Julie is Coming Back!

So, I forgot to tell you some big news.  Imagine that.


If you've been around awhile, you might recall that on August 1, 2009 our foreign exchange student from Norway arrived:  Julie.

The same month she arrived, we managed to conceive Lucy.  Not exactly the timing I was going for.  A teenage daughter was new territory for me...and so was a baby one.


I spent much of that year bewildered at God's timing.  I knew I couldn't see the big picture...yet that didn't stop me from complaining about how weird His timing was.  Incessant bewildered complaining about weirdness is not flattering. Trust me.


I still don't have the big picture.  I'm not meant to.  But I have more pieces of the puzzle, and when I look back on events from then until now I can smile at His way of weaving life together.  

Julie and I that November...I'm holding her stomach because her is flat and mine was not :)

Looking back, I can see Julie and I at the college visit we went to at a near by university.  We wandered around that campus that November day, joking about how she could come back here and go to college and of course meet and eventually marry the man of her dreams...her American dreams. ;)   We sat through the financial aid meeting, the question and answer time...ate in the dining hall (which made me want to enroll there and live in the dorms because the food was AMAZING...of course I was preggo so food itself was amazing.)


But I left that university that day knowing Julie would not be back here.  The idea was ludicrous.  College in Norway is practically totally paid for by their government.  And why would she come back to Iowa?  I mean really, have you seen Norway?!?  And if she was to come back to America for college, she'd certainly go somewhere new and exciting.


Looking back I see myself...overwhelmed.  One husband, three boys, one teenage daughter, one on the way, a dog, a ministry, and three bedrooms and one bathroom.  I went into survival mode, but survival mode doesn't often let you enjoy life fully...the way God intends.  


In early June of 2010, I remember standing in the airport with three boys and a 5 week old baby...saying goodbye to Julie.  She had to go through security and then sit on the other side of a window-wall.  We both sobbed.  And sobbed.  And sobbed some more.  I had such a feeling of wanting a do-over.  You know that feeling?  That feeling of knowing if you just could do it again, you'd be so much better at it.  


Late this winter, I got an email from Julie, sharing about how she was seeking out where God was leading her after she graduated from school in Norway.  She'd looked into all sorts of exciting adventures, but nothing felt quite right.  Meanwhile, God was lining up everything to fall into place for her return to Iowa.  


God does such weird things in such a great way, doesn't He?


Now...today...I am fully adjusted to the four-kid thing.  My 3 bedroom, one bath house will soon be turning into a 5 bedroom 2 1/2 bath house...and my teenage daughter is returning.  And this time, I get to be her friend...well a mom-friend anyway.  She's in charge of herself this time.  No curfews, no telling her who she can't date (although I'm sure to have an opinion ;) it's different this time...and I'm excited about that.  That year of craziness had a purpose...a purpose far bigger than me.



One month from today we will pick her up from the airport.  What an adventure.  I'm thankful for God's version of do-overs.








*and if you're new, and would like to read more about the time when Julie was here, you can click on the link titled "hosting" under "Stuff I write about"*

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I Get Excited...

I get excited about stuff.  


I do.  It's who I am.  How I'm wired.

Unless you're new to me, this doesn't come as a surprise to you.  


There's an ebb and flow to life, and there's an ebb and flow to what I'm currently excited (and by excited I mean obsessed) about.  Kinda like seasons, I guess.


I give you my top 7 as of late:


7.  My Menu Board

6.  The Packers.  I love them, and though I've only been a fan for a few short years, I've invested myself fully :)  and my Noah couldn't have been happier on Sunday.

5.  Sewing.  This one sort of came out of nowhere.  But I'm having fun with it.

4.  Cityville.  It's a dumb facebook application that really should not be all that fun, but lately I find it completely entertaining.  I blame it on February in Iowa.


3.  New Tupperware.  Sounds ridiculous, but when did Tupperware get so cute?!?  A friend had a party and I got this stuff and I can't quit looking at it and smiling.

2.  Reading.  I've rekindled my love of reading.  I don't really get into fiction all that much, but anything else will pretty much do.  My husband (the pastor) also shares the same love so there are piles of books every.where.  One of the last books I finished, I actually read the last page and immediately started at the beginning again.  I love a book that grabs me by the shoulders and gives me a good *shake* to wake me up, make me think.  Crazy Love did that.  And it's ringing in my ears and heart daily that status quo is not good enough...it's garbage, actually.




1.  Spending time with my God.


I recently watched a friend walk through a really tough life situation.  Suddenly everyone who vaguely knew her wanted to be her friend in order to help...in reality, if they had really known her, they would have realized that some of the very things they were doing to "help" were actually causing her more grief.  Their intentions were good, but it irritated me no less.  And it got me thinking...


Do I do that with God?  Do I say I know Him, yet fail to spend time with Him daily, hourly...regularly.  


Relationships never grow without communication.  Ever.  And the closest of the relationships in my life are with the people I rub shoulders with on a daily or regular basis.  Sure, there's some long lost friends that I can go without seeing and then pick up where we left off...but it's picking up where we left off...not from a place of deep understanding of one another in the current.


And there is a difference.  


I realized I was doing this with God.  And I grieved.  


I want to know Him daily.  Because that is really the only way that He is able to transform me.  


Which leads me to this little book:

I notoriously dislike devotional books.  I'll spare you  my list of reasons, but mostly...they annoy me.  


It never fails that God works greatly in  my life through things I find annoying.


Over Christmas, I picked up a flyer that had the above book, Jesus Calling pictured in it.  And, because I judge books by their covers, and thought this would look super cute on my pile of books, I grabbed my cell and asked my mom to pick me up a copy at the store by her house.  It was very random...so I thought.


As soon as I picked the book up, I was hooked.  I read through the whole thing like a novel.  It's written as if Jesus is speaking right at you.  The "I," "Me," "My," etc always mean Jesus, while the "you" and "your" mean me, the reader.  


I fell in love with it.  The kicker:  It's a devotional FOR KIDS.  Crack me up.  


Oh it gets better.


About the same time I was searching for out next Ladies Bible Study material. We were wrapping up Forgotten God (amazing, by the way) and everything I thought was gonna be a great idea, just never quite felt right.


And then He hit me with it.  I wasn't the only one who needed to be spending time with Him on a daily basis.  I sat on the idea of it for awhile, hoping I hadn't quite understood Him right.  After all, the lovely ladies in our Bible study more than graciously put up with my craziness, however presenting them with the idea that our "study" is actually going to be a devotional book for kids was not really what I wanted to share with them.  Because who comes up with that?!?  


God does.


Without a doubt.


And because it's His deal, and not mine, they were totally game for it.


Tonight, we meet together for the first time after starting this "study" and I'm so excited to see what God's doing.  


I'll leave you with this little nugget from the book, that I've been chewing on since January 30th:

... whatever you think about the most becomes your god, your idol, the thing you worship.  From Jesus Calling for Kids

I can't get past it.  How many things do I think about more than Him?  He's changing me though.  Through this time with Him, daily, hourly...He's rising to the top.

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I've Been Hiding...

I've been hiding from the blog.  But one can only hide for so long.  I've been avoiding the blog because I've gone quiet.  That's what I do when I'm grieving, or coming up against something hard in my life.  Some people are able to muster their thoughts into deep, moving posts which help them work through whatever is facing them.  But for me, words fail me.  Writing about it doesn't  make me feel better.  I wish it did, but it doesn't.    


I go quiet in real life too.  I need time to think.  To feel.  To process...without everyones thoughts and input and words.  I can't hear God when everyone else is talking to me...and so, for a time, I just sit at His feet...because He's the only one that understands me.  


My last post was December 31st.  At the time I wrote it, I didn't know that I would be spending New Years Eve with good friends...at a Hospice Home.  Laughing, and crying, not knowing what to say, or what to do.   Much has changed since December 31st.  


God called Tate home to Heaven on January 3rd.   My tears and hurt are not for Tate, because I know where he is, running around in that perfect new body that, here on earth, didn't cooperate with him.  


I hurt for my son, who lost one of his best buddies.   I hurt for my friend, who buried her son.  I hurt for their family...because going on with life without Tate seems nearly impossible.  My heart aches for them.


A new perspective has formed.  Tragedy does that.  It's a crash course in perspective.  What I once would have seen as problems, both in my own life, and in others, now seem...well, sort of ridiculous.  


Absolutely ridiculous.


I no longer am going to live my daily life wallowing in meaningless problems either my own or those around me.  What a waste.  Maybe that's not the best thing for a pastors wife to say...after all, we're supposed to sympathize with everyone, right?  Or not.  Maybe all the sympathizing is the wrong thing.  Maybe sometimes, they need a good dose of reality as well.  Maybe, like me, they need to be reminded to Get Over Themselves.  That life is not about me.  It's about what God wants to do through me...which is far greater that meaningless annoyances. 


Let's grieve with those who truly need to grieve.  Let's hurt with those who hurt.  But let's also tell each other when we're being ridiculous.  


My filter is gone, eh? ;)

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In the Moment...

A year ago today, Ben and I were at a giant hospital (the hospital Tate is now in) to have a level II ultrasound because of a tiny cyst they had found on Lucy's brain.  I was 5 months pregnant.  You can go back and read the story here and here.  

It's one of those days that will stick in my head forever.  I remember how I felt, how the hospital smelled, the shoes I wore, the nervousness, the relief, sweet relief that the cyst was gone, that the baby was perfect, and she was indeed still a girl ;)  

Some days from this past year are like that.  Completely memorable.  Others, are just ordinary and blur together. I'm so thankful for both.  It's why I blog, it's life, and it's all worth documenting...the good, the bad, the ugly.

I never know what each day is going to bring.  Oh, I think I know, I plan, I anticipate...sometimes I dread, but really not one of us knows what the next moment will hold.  Only my Heavenly Father knows, and only He gives me the grace to bear whatever is in store.  Joy or pain...I need His grace either way.

My friend Steph, Tate's mom, had this quote as a favorite:  

Yesterday is history
Tomorrow is a mystery
Today is a gift

That's how I want to live 2011.

Happy New Year Blog World!

 

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Goodbye Odie, We Miss You...

Let's chat.  I need to fill you in on life.


Last Thursday, we had to put our dog Odie to sleep.  *Sigh*

If you've read for long, you may recall that last summer we found out Odie had a tumor.  Being that he was 10 years old, which is a "ripe old age" for a wiener dog, we decided to just enjoy the 6 months to a year, that the vet said he had left.


Odie made it a full year from his diagnosis, and he did indeed live it up this year.  Several months ago he decided he no longer wanted to eat dog food.  He was livin' the dream livin' on table scraps.


And his favorite thing...

We knew it was time, for various reasons, but man, it was tough.  Our whole family had been preparing ourselves this past year to say goodbye.  But it really doesn't make it any easier.  Odie had only been in our home for 3 years, but he really had become one of the parsonage family.  I went back through my old blog posts, so I could smile at some of his antics that I'd previously written about.  (I ended up using the google thing on the left side of my blog because apparently I'm really bad at labeling my posts well...note to self.)


Watching the boys grieve has been the hardest.  We buried him at Ben's parents farm, and we'll  be able to visit whenever we want.  But our home...it felt empty without Odie.  


There were many a day that I thought I might rip out my hair from his annoying barking. :)  But, now...it's just endearing.  We loved him.  And he loved us...just like it's supposed to be when you have a dog.  


Nothing can replace Odie.  But, like a good friend said, we still have room to love another.  


And so we did.  You'll get to meet him tomorrow.

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Just Thinking...

This week I had to share some bad news with my brother.  It just so happened that earlier in the same day, he'd gotten some really great news.  He texted me back, saying "that's the story of my life, whenever something good happens then something bad happens."  


My response:  That's the story of everyones life.


That's life.  I tend to try to keep a check and balance thing going, finding some contentment if the "good things" side of the scale outweighs the "bad."  But that's not how life works.  And it's certainly not how my God intends me to view it.  Life is always good stuff and hard stuff going on simultaneously.  


My perception of the bad is often what He intends for good.  


I can't shake the words of Paul, in the book of Philippians where he says, 

for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.  I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty.  I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.  I can do all things through Him who strengthens me. (4:11-13)

Contentment is not easily attained.  Especially in today's society, even among believers.


We sing a song at church...Count Your Blessings.  Count your blessings, name them one by one...count your many blessings see what God has done.  Even in the hard stuff of life, there is blessing from Him to be found.  Sometimes we just need to look at it through His perspective.

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Julie is Gone.

Julie flew back home to Norway last Thursday.  


April (with Lucy's arrival) and May had been so crazy around here that we all sort of lived in denial about her leaving.  Me especially...I'm pretty good at denial.


It has been a whirlwind of a year here in the parsonage.  As we walked into the airport to send her back to her own country, I couldn't help but feel like we'd just been there to get her.

And at the same time, it was sort of surreal thinking of all that had gone on while she was here.  The last time I walked into that airport as the mother of boys, and this time I walked into the airport with a teenage daughter and baby girl...a baby girl that wasn't on my "plan" list for the year.  I can't help but look at myself in this picture and laugh a little...because that Sarah didn't have a clue what she was in for. :)


I still don't.


Before Julie arrived, you probably noticed *cough* that every other post involved her.  And then August came, and Julie arrived and then she pretty much dropped off the radar from my blog.  Before she came, I remember thinking how much fun it would be to blog about life with a teenager.  And then she came, and I realized, I can't blog about that, not now at least.  Because at the time, no matter how funny, or frustrating, it was just too soon.


It's amazing how some time can give us a different perspective on any given situation.  Over the next year, I hope to look back on the time Julie was here and reflect and learn from those experiences.  


Julie became a part of us.  And saying good bye at the airport that day was much harder than I had anticipated.  Or maybe it was just the fact that I had to come to terms with it...there's no denying she's leaving when you watch her board the plane and lift off.


I learned a lot about myself, having Julie here.  I learned I have waaaay more to learn about having teenagers.  ;)


It was for a time.  I keep reminding myself of that.  So much of life is just for a time.  So much of me  wants to hold on to everything just the way it is.  I look at the boys and I think STOP GROWING SO FAST.  And Lucy...already filling out and growing by the minute, and I find myself sad that it's going so quickly.  Yet...it's supposed to.  They're supposed to grow.  Julie was supposed to go home to her family.  And if I'm sad for too long, I'll miss out on the joys ahead.  


So here's to learning to let go, embracing change...even enjoying it. 

Love you, Julie!  

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Everything in One Post = Overkill

This once a week blog post thing is really quite boring. I apologize.

Some random updates for you:

• Monday night I went into the hospital because I'd been having regular contractions. By the time they hooked me up to the machine thingy, they had stopped. We'll just call it a trial run. The bonus was that Ben and I got to watch the end of Amagedon while at the hospital. And, we were both reminded of how absolutely wonderful the nurses there are. Five more days and we get to go see them again...for the real deal this time. :)
• Tuesday and Wednesday I came down with some weird viral thing. Nausea, fever/chills, sorta comes and goes. Ben was here to take care of me during the worst of it. He reminded me of what true love really is...sometimes it involves making 100 trips up and down the stairs filling the bathtub with pots of boiling water because your wife has used up all the water in the water heater and is still cold in the tub. I love that man.
• Today I'm feeling much better. Even having some coffee. Totally looking forward to some more nesting in the next few days.

In other news:

Ben came up with the idea of planting a garden (at his grandparents home in the country) this year. At first I was a little skeptical...and by that I mean lazy. Gardens seem like an awful lot of work. Last Summer I was annoyed with the two tomato plants we'd planted because I didn't know what to do with all the tomatoes. Can you imagine me with a garden of produce?

After chatting about it for awhile, I realized the garden wasn't really about the produce anyways. It's about the process.

As parents, we've been lamenting a bit about how our boys sometimes don't want to work for things. We live in a culture that wants to take the easiest way possible in order to attain something. I'm entirely guilty of this. I'm perfectly fine with store bought canned green beans if it means I don't have to pull weeds and get dirty. Makes sense to me.

When we presented the boys with the idea, there were mixed reactions. Which reinforced the fact that they need a little hard-labor under their belts. ;) God gives us so many practical and spiritual lessons from the land He's created. Sowing and reaping. Hard work in the planting, the labor it takes to keep the weeds from over-running everything, and the joy of the harvest. It's not just a lesson for my boys...it's for me to. It's a family ordeal.

There's bound to be whining and complaining along the way, but we're praying God uses this time to teach our boys (and us) that things in life require hard work. I want them to learn that just because something is hard, and takes awhile, doesn't mean we avoid it...it means we work hard and see it through. I want boys who grow up to be men who aren't afraid to do hard things.

Saturday, April 10th we started the process. I'm hoping to document it all the way through. Eventually, I'll even be able to bend over again and help...with a baby strapped to my back. :) In the mean time, here's my 38 week preggo shadow.

There, I think you're all caught up now. Oh wait...I can't stop listening to this song: If you can be in love with a song, then I am in deep.

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Grieving is an Odd Thing...

I'm a little weird in a lot of ways. There's no denying it.

I'm especially strange when it comes to death and grieving. Funerals seem weird to me. Visitations/viewings even weirder. The luncheons afterwards make no sense to me at all.

I never know what to say...or where to stand. I never get in line to view the body in the casket, because for those funerals that I have actually gotten in line, that's the first vision that pops into my head whenever the persons name is mentioned.

I've heard people say, how "good" the person looks, as in kudos to the funeral home. I always think to myself, really?!? We make dead people try to look "good" so that we can view them and say goodbye? I don't get it. Needless to say, there will not be an open viewing at my funeral someday...I've put it in legal writing ;) Although, I told my mom she could peek, because she's on the side that finds comfort in the funeral process.

And, as you can see from the above statement, I don't find it hard to think about my own death, or to even joke about it. Several years ago when we sat down with our lawyer to make out a will, I remember him saying how he knew it was uncomfortable to think about such things...and I thought to myself how I didn't find it uncomfortable at all. Weird-o.

I know, to the vast majority of people, all the things I find strange...they in fact, find very, very comforting. I'm not trying to dismiss the importance, or be insensitive...I'm just sharing my weirdness.

Up until yesterday, I'd really never experienced any close family members dying. I've watched people I love, lose loved ones...but never anyone in close relation to me. I've reasoned over the years that maybe that was why I didn't get it. That maybe someday, when I was on the other side, I would understand the process better.

I received a call from my dad yesterday afternoon letting me know that my grandma had passed away. I had no emotional reaction. No visible one anyway. Her death hit my dad and other normal people as unexpected. Yet, in my head, death is always expected for older people. There was no shock, just logic.

Ben called later on to see how I was doing. I said fine, and then asked him how his day was going, just like I do every time I talk to him. Afterwards, I said to him, "I'm weird, aren't I." And he lovingly said, "Yes, yes you are..."

I spent the rest of the evening pondering my lack of reaction, and I learned something about myself. Four years ago, my grandma suffered a major stroke. When my dad called with that phone call, I think it sent me to my knees. That I found unexpected. There were times during that hospital stay, that I was certain she would not survive. It was gut wrenching. I prepared myself to let go.

My grandma and I had always had a good relationship. She was smart and witty, and I always enjoyed chatting with her about current events and politics. I knew she was proud of who I was. She miraculously survived that massive stroke, physically. I remember everyone being so thankful that she had survived. And I was too...yet the woman that remained was now different. Stuck in a body that would not cooperate with speech. And I grieved because I missed who she was.

I grieved more then, than I do today. I guess in a way, I'd already let go. And really, isn't that what grief really is, the process of dealing with letting go. I know everyone grieves differently...yet I see flaws in the way I dealt with my grief since the stroke...I let go too soon...because it hurt less that way.

I'm a work in progress...until the day God has destined for me to meet Him, I just have to continue seeking after Him. And today, my grieving takes the form of a smile, as I think of my grandma in Heaven, with a perfect body and mind...no more frustrations, no more pain...and most certainly drinking a warm Coke (which I always pretended to like, for her sake, but in Heaven...my Coke is gonna be ice cold ;)

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I Am That Dude...

A blogger friend, Mama Belle posted this video the other day. I'll admit, I almost never watch a video on blogs because, well, that would take time. But she mentioned this one was only 1 minute, so I took the plunge.

I watched it. And I had an epiphany...of sorts..

I am that cartoon dude. His logic makes complete sense to me. You don't have to watch the video...but if you do, THAT is what I look like during the day.

I thought I was only a "rare-only-on-certain-occasions" procrastinator. Not true.

I viewed procrastinators as not getting anything done or completely done until the last minute. And I get all kinds of stuff done. All kinds of stuff that I don't really need to do in order to avoid that which I do need to do. It can even be something that I ENJOY doing, I'll still likely put it off with other busyness.

For example, I really need to paint the trim-thingy in the bathroom TODAY. Yet I think it will be easier to paint the trim if I first clean up the kitchen and throw a load of laundry in. But I should finish making the scotcharoo bars because then I can do the dishes all at once. And then I'm distracted by the bars...which go great with coffee...which go great with writing a blog post. And here I sit. No laundry going. Pans in the sink. No paint in sight.

I did, however, consume the coffee and chocolatey/peanutbuttery bar of goodness.

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It's the Little Things...

It happens occasionally...I awaken from a deep sleep with an overwhelming sense of fear and hoplessness. It usually involves those life circumstances that I struggle to hand over, to relinquish to my Savior...to believe He can do anything in.

It's a spiritual battle. I know it is. The Bible tells me it is.

Last night it happened again. And I found myself praying fervently, in the darkness. Replacing fears with truth. Truth that nothing, nothing is too big for God to handle. No circumstance, relationship, financial situation, etc is beyond His reach. And in the darkness, as I claimed those truths (for the millionth time) His peace replaced the chest crushing hopelessness...and sleep came quickly.

But the battle doesn't end. I awoke early to...

• My husband letting me know the furnace had stopped working sometime in the middle of the night, he'd talked to a good friend and something must be wrong with the gas line. Ben heads off to work.
• I wake up and find that school has a 2 hour delay because of fog (also learn that it's the 6th day in a row without sunshine)
• Call the gas company and they send someone out.
• Teenager comes down stairs ready for school, not knowing that it's a late start. Not happy.
• Two day care kiddos arrive.
• Gas guy comes...gas is not the problem.
• Call friend who can fix the furnace.
• A dear friend calls, a tragic situation has happened in her family that lives far away. My heart hurts for her...
• Load 5 kids up in order to take 2 to school. Buckle everyone in. Gripe under my breath about the cold.
• On the way to school, someone drives right through the yield sign without ever looking...it wasn't super close, but close enough to make my heart pound.
• Get back home unload 2 preschoolers and a 7 month old. Walk into the house to have teenager tell me their ride to school over slept. Load preschoolers and baby back in the van, pick up teenagers friend, and take to highschool.
• Someone calls and needs a babysitter, I say no...which makes me feel bad for not helping.
• Friend comes and takes 5 minutes and furnace is fixed.
• Feed kids lunch, delay nap of 7 month old because...
• in 30 minutes I would need to load 3 kids up again to take one to preschool.
• My head hurts, my back hurts, my pregnant self is tired, my patience is tested...

But in reality, this is an average ordinary day. Sure, some stuff's been a little extra annoying...but nothing too far from the average day. It's life.

And then the realization hits me. It's not the big life-altering situations that bring me to my breaking point.

It's the tiny little ones. The every-day-ordinary ones. The freezing weather, the dishwasher not getting loaded/unloaded, whining, piles, my cell phone that never stops ringing, on and on and on. Nothing significant...until you put it all together.

I know what I should do. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, Knowing is generally not the problem for me...it's the doing.

Looking at the daily craziness of life as a blessing, rather than a huge pain. Some days it's easier to do that...but I want to get to the point where I choose quickly to see the "inconveniences" of life as opportunities instead.

I'm a long way from that point. God has some work to do...I have some yielding to do.

How about you? What brings you to your breaking point?

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Just Between Us...

Just between you and me, I have get something off my chest....

The other day I heard some one say (about someone else's character) What's in the past, is in the past. It's a familiar saying, one which most of us like to believe is true...but the more life experience I gain, the more I realize that most of the time, what's in the past is most definitely not actually in the past, but very much in the present.

I've often heard Dr. Phil say something to the effect that the best indicator of future behavior is past behavior. I think he's right. Time alone does not fix our personality/character flaws. Time alone does not change us. Without genuine repentance and effort to be different, we are exactly who we were in the past. I don't think we do ourselves or anyone else any favors by leading them to believe otherwise.

I've often felt that changing myself was impossible. I've even more often thought that other people changing is impossible. And in ministry, you soon realize that many who say they've changed, have in fact not. And those who say they want to change are often telling the truth...however the hidden truth is that they don't want to do the work needed to change. Sounds depressing, no? Sometimes...it is. But there are those, those people who you see the change. They don't have to convince me, or anyone else because it radiates from them. It's visible. It's undeniable. They can say, I once was this and now I'm this. And no one disputes it.

That's when the past is truly in the past.

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Let's Get Personal Part 2

If you haven't read yesterday's post, you should go there and do it, because otherwise this is just gonna seem weird.

I enjoyed reading your comments yesterday. I had no idea so many others were going through similar situations. I should warn you this is my longest post ever. Get some coffee and sugary nourishment before you settle in. It's a journey I'm glad to share, and one I need to record for my own sake as well...I'm likely to find myself back here some day.

I think the details are important because, as I've said before...God is in the details. He doesn't show me the details up-front. Just a small, teeny-tiny glimpse of the very next step. He knows I spook easily, and to keep me on course I can't know very much about His plans. My mind is just too small to be able to wrap around them. But once those plans are played out, He turns me around and throws the doors wide open for me to see...and each time, I just stand there in awe, uttering now I get it...sorta.

Early on in our marriage Ben and I both agreed that four sounded like a good number. The pregnancy with our first born, Noah, came as a bit of a surprise. A little sooner than we'd planned, but not shocking. When Noah was 7 months old I discovered I was pregnant with Eli. That was a shocker. I cried for a good week or two just from the sheer shock of it. But God proved faithful, and the girl who never wanted kids really close together got them anyway. And I wouldn't change it for anything.

By the time Eli turned two years old I was ready to try for another. Along came Jake, three months before Eli turned 3. Because my first two were only 16 months apart, I thought that the gap of almost 3 years between Eli and Jake was HUGE and would certainly make it easier.

I am and idiot.

Three rocked my world. I had a 4 year old, 3 year old and baby. Jake was a couple months old when the opportunity arose for Ben to pastor in tiny town. At the time, it didn't seem like difficult transition at all, but as I look back I see things I was oblivious to at the time. Over the course of Jake's first year of life I became more and more convinced that three was good. Three was plenty! Three was all I could handle by myself in the church pew every Sunday morning and Sunday night while my husband preached.

And to further convince myself I convinced everyone around me as well. Whenever the topic of more kids came up I gave a hearty no way and a lengthy list of reasons as to why this pastor's wife was busy enough.

And then the boys got older...and physically less exhausting for me. And that feeling that I talked about yesterday...or wondering, settled in. And I began to question what the desires of my heart really were, and it brought me to my knees before the One who knows what those desires are.

I mentioned yesterday that in my head I had sorted out all of the possible options. Ben and I talked at length about each one, but it always boiled down to the same thing...

1. Doing something permanent, at this point in our lives, just didn't settle well with us. I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that I might later regret it. That someday I might think...did God want us to have one more and we missed out on that life because I wanted a decision made right. now?
2. The idea of purposely trying didn't settle well either because I was very content with our three wonderful little guys. Our family didn't feel like it was lacking, in fact, it felt quite full. I didn't know if I wanted to be pregnant again...and all that entailed, losing all the weight afterwards in particular. Maybe three boys was exactly what God had planned for our family.

Ben suggested we just do nothing. I may have had a panic attack...at first. But the more I thought and prayed about it, the more I felt like maybe that might work. If God wanted to move during that time, He would. And if He didn't, then we would know that three was exactly the number planned. We made this decision last October.

So for October, November and December I was completely paranoid. I bought pregnancy tests from The Dollar Tree (oh you know the store, where EVERYTHING is a dollar...my paranoia made me buy in bulk ;) I freaked the few days before my period was due...because I really, REALLY wasn't ready to get pregnant. Ben, and my running partner Billie deserve a lot of credit...they were the only ones privy to my paranoia. :)

By January I began to calm down some. It's also when we needed to decide if we were going to go through with having a foreign exchange student for the following school year. I knew that either an exchange student or a baby would be ok...but not both. Again, we weighed the options. What if I got pregnant before she arrived? Would we have to back out? Should we not go ahead with it because of the possibility of getting pregnant? We didn't have a lot of time to dwell on it...we needed to pick a student soon in order to get first dibs. We had such a peace about Julie, that we knew we were to go ahead with it...certainly God wouldn't give me both. Certainly.

Then, in February or March He planted the idea of the 1/2 marathon. Billie used to tease me that I might get pregnant and be able to quit...to which I replied that I was quite certain I wouldn't get pregnant now, after all God had inspired this race for me...I knew He was behind it, and He'd definitely make me finish it. He certainly wouldn't call me to it and THEN have me get pregnant. So, it became a non-issue for awhile and I focused on my family and the running.

And that's when I felt a huge weight lifted from me. For so long I had been carrying the burden of what to do about the whole family planning issue. When I finally handed it over, and stopped freaking out, I found the freedom that He desired for me. I learned to be content in the uncertainty. I gradually learned not to freak out every month because I didn't know what was in store. I just lived life. Plus, with the boys we had gotten pregnant pretty quickly. The fact that we hadn't yet made me quite certain that it was God's way of telling me our family was complete.

Along comes August. Julie is here and We're three weeks out from the race. It's a Wednesday and we're due to have a 9 miler that Saturday. And for some reason it suddenly dawns on me that my period should have probably started already. I make a quick phone call to Billie (because your running partner keeps track of these sorta things) in hopes that she can convince me that I'm totally off on my days. She convinces me...but not that I'm off ;)

Two test later, I was certain. And amazed. And completely and utterly confused about the timing. After talking with the Dr. she gave the go-ahead to finish the half marathon as long as I could stay hydrated, and I thought wow...God's doing both.

The 9 miles that Saturday went great. The 10 miles the next Saturday went slower, but I felt good about it. I knew I'd be able to finish the half.

Thursday before the race the barfing began. No stopping in sight. By Friday night I had Billie pick up my registration packet, but I knew I would not be able to run it. Saturday morning I went and cheered Billie on...fighting back tears. We'd trained together, we were supposed to run together. I couldn't figure out why God would call me to train and then not let me run.

Later I realized that I'd only assumed the race was part of the deal...what He had called me to was the training, the discipline and the obedience. His timing wasn't off...it was perfect. Without those lessons, learned literally through sweat and tears, I wouldn't be ready for this baby. I wouldn't have been ready for 16 weeks of nausea and barfing. I wouldn't have been ready for both a baby and an exchange student. What seemed like terrible timing was actually His perfect timing. But I am not exaggerating when I say His way of doing things is never how I think it's going to be.

The story is never finished. I have no idea what tomorrow holds...or the next minute for that matter. For now, I know that in April, Lord willing, we will bring home baby #4. And boy or girl...God has planned it. And most likely, over time, we will find ourselves back to the familiar question....are we done yet? Because really, like my mother in law says...what's one more?!? :)

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Let's Get Personal Part 1

Yesterday I received a question from a non-real life bloggy friend. She wondered if it was weird for her to ask a serious question to a person you've never actually met but feel like you know via bloggy world. And my answer, without a doubt is nope. Not weird at all. I love blog questions. Makes me feel like someone is actually listening to what I'm saying...which is a good portion of the reason I blog. Because in my real life, it can often feel like no one is paying attention. :)

Before I get to the question, I'm gonna put a disclaimer on this post. I hate disclaimers, they somehow seem like an apology for whatever is being said in order to not offend anyone in the slightest. But sometimes they are necessary...as with every other single thing ever written on this blog, this is just my personal story. I without a doubt, believe that God's plan for everyone's family size is completely different. And the journey He takes them on, and what He asks of them is each unique. There's no simple 3-step formula for everyone.

Finally...question - Did you know that you knew that you knew that you wanted another baby?

In Short: No.

The truth is, the closer I grow to Christ, the less confident I am in what I want. This drives me crazy, but it is actually a very, very good thing. There have been many things that I was certain I wanted at one time, only to completely change my mind later. And on the flip side, there were certain things I never wanted, that have turned out to have been the desire of my heart after all.

That sounds neat and tidy, doesn't it? I wish it were that simple. But the road to that conclusion was not easy...is not easy.

About a year and a half ago Ben and I began to struggle with what it meant, for us, to give control over to God regarding the size of our family. For quite awhile we'd had a peace about how we were going about things...and then...the feeling of unrest settled in. We weighed the options.

The problem, for me especially...because I have control-freak tendency, was that all the options made me feel like I was the one in control, when I really just wanted God to make the decision.

In my head, these were the options:

• Decide if we are done having kids or not. If we are done, then someone should get fixed. When? Who? (Some finger pointing went on here ;)
• Do we just go about our current method which was trying to prevent, while yet still leaving an option open for God to do what He wants?
• Do we do nothing to prevent? There was a joke going around when Ben was in seminary, because everyone was having babies. What do you call a husband and wife who do not use birth control? Answer: Parents. And by my experience, that was TRUE. So, for me, not using anything meant trying...which meant I still felt like I was taking the decision into my own hands.

I begged God to JUST PICK AN OPTION and then let me know which one He'd like. I asked friends about their journey. Each story was unique and it helped to know that others were in the same struggle...whether they already had 1,2, or 10 kids.

Have I mentioned I don't like uncertainty? I want things decided. It wasn't until I surrendered to the fact that it wasn't going to be decided that the peace started to come. I had thought the lesson for me was to find out what option was best, when in reality the lesson was for Ben and I to surrender to uncertainty.

This was a hard lesson for me. And really, I'd like to leave the rest of the story and details out. Sharing parts of my life, and keeping it real come pretty easily for me. But, you may notice that often I talk in more general terms...leaving details out protects me and those around me. I can keep it real and still keep a sense of privacy. It works well for me. But I know on this topic, God has brought me on this journey for a reason, and I'm gonna share the rest of it with you...

Tomorrow. Because I've reached my self imposed blog length limit for the day.

Details. Because in this case, God is glorified in the details.

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For the Life of Me I Can't...

Something has happened to me.

For some odd reason I am unable to make simple decisions. It is driving me crazy. CRAZY. I'm normally the gal who knows what she likes. But lately...not so much.

I hem and haw (wow, I say that all the time but it looks really weird when I write it...) over the most trivial things. It annoys me to death when people can't make simple decisions...and now I'm one of them.

And because I can't get away from myself, it's taken annoying to a whole new level. It takes me twice as long to grocery shop, pick something for supper, make plans, and even get dressed in the morning. And when I do finally make a decision, I end up doubting it.

You know what one does when they can't decide...nothing. I just wait and wait and wait thinking I'll soon be able to choose...and I don't. I just put it off a little longer.

I'm sure there's a spiritual lesson in it somewhere. I'm just still stuck in the "what the heck happened to me, bring back the Sarah who can make decisions" stage. Once I get passed it (and it may take awhile) I'll be sure to fill you in.

In the mean time...should I hit Publish Post or not? Did I mention it's annoying?

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Pictures...

Just for the heck of it, I took some pictures yesterday and today. Something I haven't done in quite awhile...

I thought I'd document my increasing belly/decreasing lap. At 15 1/2 weeks the lap still wins.

And the baby bump...

And the purple shoes that I've rekindled that loving feeling for recently...

And a new hair cut that was loooong over due thanks to nausea and barfing...

It's good to feel somewhat normal again. Well, maybe normal is a bad choice of word...it's good to feel like me again.

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