In the Present

               When I was pregnant with her I couldn't wait to have her in my arms.  When she was  a newborn I couldn't wait until she could sleep for longer stretches at a time.  When she was 3 months I couldn't wait for her to be 6 months so she could sit up. When she was 6 months I couldn't wait for her to start crawling. When she was 11 months I couldn't wait for her to start walking. So much developed those first 18 months and when I look back I see that when she hit those big milestones I was anxious to see what was next instead of savoring the moment that we were in.


             She is 2 years old now and she is her own person. She talks all the time and she laughs at things she finds funny and turns up her nose at things that don't please her. She likes to do everything by herself. I now find myself wishing for time to stand still. She is more refreshing than a cold glass of water on a hot summer day and I want to drink all of this in. I want to savor it all and make the most of every precious moment that I am blessed with. 


          When I hug her and say "I love you" she says "no, mommy I love you more" and while I don't believe it's possible for her to love me more I feel my entire being melt like wax at her precious words. We have 50 something days left until our baby boy, Wells, arrives and while pregnancy at this point is very uncomfortable and very hard with a 2 year old I am trying with all that I am to not wish for tomorrow but instead to savor today. 


       My prayer is to be present in the moment and to make the most of every moment. I know that time flies with one child and it will certainly zoom when we have two.  I pray for us to continue to have a home that keeps Christ at the forefront and that we never lose focus of our purpose here on this earth.

The Valley of Infertility

           There she sits on the edge of her bed, tears streaming down her face, she has sat here before, 15 other times but who is counting. It is all the same, the pain, disappointment, emptiness, anger, yep it's all the same. She looks at the plastic test in her hand, gosh, if it only had two lines things would be so different. One line, she knows she needs to tell her husband but she is so disgusted with herself, with the process, with her husband, she is disgusted and doesn't want to have to tell him that once again she failed the test. What is so different about her body? Why is she the only person on the entire planet that can't carry a child to term?


         She goes to church, to the grocery, to target, literally everywhere she goes she is bombarded by women with protruding baby bumps and if they don't have the bump it is because they are cradling their tiny bundles of joy that have just been born. It seems like every time she logs onto Facebook there is another pregnancy announcement. She is surrounded and constantly reminded that once again it is not her that is expecting.  The variety of emotions that swell up inside her when she sees a pregnant woman are overwhelming. There is sadness, jealousy, anger, hopefulness, anxiety,  joy at the thought of the miracle, the emotions are many and they consume her entirely.


        Her heart aches for a baby, her heart aches for the babies that she miscarried. She tosses and turns at night wondering when/if she will ever be blessed with her own bundle. She knows that no matter the valley that she is asked to walk through, that God is faithful and that He will make a way. She has walked through other dark valleys in life and God has always shined a light and provided a way. She opens her bible and begins to read, God speaks to her and she is comforted by His voice. She feels the multitude of friends that are praying for her and at times of desperation she closes her eyes and pictures all of her friends going before God on her behalf. A peace blankets her.


       We all know this girl, maybe her circumstances aren't exactly the same, but we all know someone who struggles with infertility. May we all go before God and pray for her as she struggles through questions that go unanswered, heartache, and disappointment.  If you are this girl, may you know that you are not alone and you are not walking through this valley alone. May you feel the multitude of prayers that are being lifted on your behalf. May you never forget that God is faithful.


        She sits on the edge of her bed, tears streaming down her face and this time she isn't holding a test. She is holding letters written to her by friends who are committing to pray for her and be there for her as she struggles through this awful time.

Hands Held High

                He was a lonely boy in the service and she started writing letters to him to encourage him and to help mend his loneliness.  He was from the South and she from California. They had never met but a lady at church told her about him and told her that he could really use some letters. They corresponded via mail for several months.  She was something special and he knew it. He began calling her and they talked on the phone and they both started realizing this relationship that began with a pen and paper was growing into love, true love. They both expressed their desire to spend the rest of their lives together. Neither had seen the other but they both new for certain that their love was the real deal. He borrowed a car to go and retrieve his bride. He met her and her beauty only added to the love that he already had for her.

         

  This past November they shared their love story to my Sunday school class and Forest choked up as he told about the extreme faith that Liz's father, Mr. Ellis, must have had to let his daughter wed and move to the south with a boy that they had never met. Decades later and still their eyes lit up as they spoke of their love for each other. They shared funny and sweet newlywed stories. They shared of times when they had no money and they shared of times when the Lord blessed them richly. They shared how they cared for their 3 children and later how they cared for their aging, dying parents. At some points I had goose bumps listening to their words and other times I was wiping away tears. A precious couple full to the brim with love for one another but even more love for Jesus.


          On January 22nd Forrest was taken from this earth. It was a sudden and surprising death and it shook everyone that knew him to the core. He and Liz made servant hood a priority and the amount of people that they have served is truly unbelievable. He lived a life up until his dying breath that glorified God. The hole that he leaves in our church and in our community is a big one but I am certain it is small in comparison to the hole that is in Liz's heart. I had the privilege to attend Forrest's funeral and it was truly a celebration of Forrest's life and also a celebration of Forrest's new home. As we sang songs of praise I could see Liz, hands held high, eyes closed and she was looking to the heavens. The sight reminded me of the faith that she has in Jesus, in knowing that as painful and heartbreaking as losing her soul mate and best friend is that he is done. He lived a life that still continues to touch others and glorify God and now he is home resting in his Saviors arms. I also pictured Mr. Ellis, Liz's dad.  The day that Forrest took Liz to be his wife was a heartbreaking day for Mr. Ellis his baby girl was leaving home and going far away to live with a boy that he barely knew. I picture Mr. Ellis looking much like Liz did on the day she buried Forrest; hands held high, clinging to God's promises and looking to the heavens for comfort.

    May we all hold our hands up high, close our eyes and look to the heavens during good times and bad.  May we always remember that God is a faithful God. May we always know that this world is temporary and our permanent home awaits us. May we never stop living lives that are full of service and glorify God. May we all trust in God's words just as Liz is doing and as Mr. Ellis did.