mercy, mercy!

we're waiting!

Baby Boy was due last week.  and there have been plenty of signs that he's on his way.  but when? we ask.  everyone asks.  though the number of weeks to wait has been the same as any other pregnancy, having spent one third of this one on bed rest has made the waiting seem much longer.  after reaching full term, i felt i had reached the goal. time for the prize, right?

instead, Baby is still cozy where he is.  and i get acting like i'm playing the game of mercy.  you know it, it's that kids game. grabbing your opponent's hand, you interlock fingers and push back as he is pushing on yours to try to inflict discomfort, even pain, on one another.  you both push until one of you gives up, crying, "mercy!"

i'm not playing a game with God, who does ultimately decide when this baby will arrive.  he isn't keeping me hanging on to see how much i can handle, trying to torture me and win.  and pleading with him for my way (or whining and pouting to others or even trying all the natural inducers i can) will not push him to answer, "okay, okay, i give in! you'll deliver today."

instead, here's the hand of mercy that has held me.  Mercy has...


preserved this pregnancy
sustained my health and our baby's
allowed a season of beautiful rest 
forgiven my ugly moments and days
provided strength when we were weak
brought help from those around us
produced fruit from our faithfulness
bestowed an excellent family summer
given kenn & the kids lots of quality time
grown kenn as a dad and husband
grown me as a mom and wife
poured rain on the earth and relief from heat
encouraged through the cheers of facebook friends
supplied our need with surprise donations
granted me another day

i've been answered with this kind of mercy over and again.  so i am striving to believe - and striving does involve struggle - that Mercy will carry me through the next hours (or days!) of waiting for our Boy...

in the meantime

i'm sure i'm not the first person to think of it. how befitting is the phrase, in the meantime. i laugh.
i also tremble.

in the meantime? it's what we do when we are waiting. hoping. looking forward to something else. something more. sometimes it is something longed for, for such a long time. or other times, it is an answer we may not want to come, an event that we fear. this stretch, this span, these moments for us become mean when we feel them as cruel, miserly, unmerited. mean time.

we are a stubborn, persistent, demanding humanity who forgets this world is not ours. not forever. we forget Whom it is Who made time and lives wholly (holy) outside of time. we are a people who forget the promise:

"I know what I'm doing. I have it all planned out—plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for." (Jeremiah 29:11)

in actuality, it is only our capacity to wait that is mean - poor, limited, low - while Scripture teaches unapologetically that all of this life is a waiting. Read all of Romans 8!  Here's just a portion.

"All around us we observe a pregnant creation. The difficult times of pain throughout the world are simply birth pangs. But it's not only around us; it's within us. The Spirit of God is arousing us within. We're also feeling the birth pangs. These sterile and barren bodies of ours are yearning for full deliverance. That is why waiting does not diminish us, any more than waiting diminishes a pregnant mother. We are enlarged in the waiting. We, of course, don't see what is enlarging us. But the longer we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful our expectancy. Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting, God's Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don't know how or what to pray, it doesn't matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. He knows us far better than we know ourselves, knows our pregnant condition, and keeps us present before God. That's why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good." 

will we allow the waiting to make us mean?
and by that i mean humble enough to receive our future.

[not] just another picnic

last monday's holiday meant time for my uncle's cookout with extended family.  shade and bloom and vegetable gardens make an oasis of a yard.  fish ponds, a tree-hung hammock, and a big tire to twirl upon.  familiar faces of every age reunite and dip into the eats upon eats stretched out on tables.  how about a game of horseshoes or a swim? 

it can be tempting to half-heartedly join the ritual, though.  to think it's just another year, another family picnic, believing nothing has changed.  to sit with one another neglecting the new is to deny that life is always birthing.  maybe it takes some effort of forethought (or self-denial) to willingly engage others but it is no easier to play absent.

it takes work to choose stuck.  the labor of grumbling is grueling.  i choose participation instead.

one thing to herald this year is new kin within!  there's the little one nearly bursting from me and there's my sister and cousin carrying their first children.  we savor these precious beginnings.  four of us, sister-cousins, sit on pool's edge.  we dangle feet as we consider the wonders and absurdities of parenthood.  we watch our relatives at play.  we welcome whatever else conversation may bring.  i even learn things i did not know i didn't know about these beloveds.

it is thankfulness to recall how far and deep our family ties do stretch, to know that time cannot break them.  yet being sure to keep on sharing the steps and stumbles of today invites these dear ones into one's now.  that's how the bond lengthens.  strengthens.

and more of the timeless is born on a Fourth of July.

* * * * * * *

linking this post to:

what IS in a name?

a name nerd. that's what i've been called.

studying names, making lists of them, respelling them, and writing them across a page was a favorite pastime.  i was little more than a babe myself when i conceived my first list.  and when my child-bearing years were literally upon me, the lists had grown to be dozens-long.  i chose names unpopular, ones that seemed to carry more distinctiveness.  the sound or appearance or movement all had meaning.  and its story - the actual meaning - could never be dismissed.

name nerd!  why such an obsession? why did i long to name even when i had no baby coming? was it fantasy?  maybe just a part of my great affection for words?  or perhaps, it was a sign of something much deeper.  i am a creature made to create.  you and i both: we experience the joy of our purpose when creating, bearing the image of the master Artist.  mysteriously, i can participate in Adam's first Garden gift when i name my children - or when i simply dream of it.  alexander schmemann writes,

      "in the Bible a name is infinitely more than a means to distinguish one thing from another.  it reveals the very essence of a thing, or rather its essence as God's gift.  to name a thing is to manifest the meaning and value God gave it, to know it as coming from God and to know its place and function within the cosmos created by God . . . to bless God for it and in it."

the way i name has changed.  our third child was named with two that popped up at seemingly random times, not from my collection.  when i investigated their meanings, finding they matched the promises and truths God was giving in that season, i knew they'd been chosen for her.  my supply has also dwindled over the years - names being used by others we know or just losing their pizazz for me.  as baby four came on the scene, i had only five or six to choose from.  and even those felt bound to be rejected.  makes sense.  i have changed, too.

this baby is coming soon and a name has been given.  i found it when going through a name book that i've had for years.  yet i don't remember ever seeing this particular name.  every time it comes to mind, i am astonished.  how precisely it captures the place where God has led Kenn and me, what he has been teaching us and giving of himself in this season.

name nerd or not, in my finite way i am celebrating the essence of the blessing in this new life.  i'm so excited to introduce him to the world, to speak his name like the people of old.  baby and i have reached 33 weeks!  won't be long 'til we're announcing more of the goodness of our loving Father, the matchless Creator.

unwonted rest

our family has lived as missionaries for 8 years, and last year kenn and i were about to break.  we've had too few vacations or regular respites from a work that is weighty and really doesn't end.  kenn is only employed part-time (with a salary that we are fully responsible for raising), but the actual hours and energy he gives far exceed that part-time status to equal a full-time job. and then some.

meager finances were the reason (or excuse) for often skipping vacations and neglecting to take longer personal retreats.  we're quite aware of how essential it is to live well in order to serve others well.  so despite facing the greatest financial strain we'd yet known, we pledged to add substantial rest into our yearly calendar.  God knows every need and we'd trust each one would be met.  after making that decision, we were overwhelmed with gifts!  suddenly we had an abundance of food, all our bills were paid without compromising other areas of our budget, and we actually had the chance to get away over the holidays! 

then we declared january a mini-sabbatical.  the Spirit quickly sealed in me the need to enter a season of rest, a deeper rest than i'd ever sought.  not knowing what was in store, i sensed it would continue even after our sabbatical ended.  (though i certainly didn't anticipate being ordered on bed rest a couple of months later!)  this journey for me has come to represent a metamorphosis that began years ago and, by God's sweet mercy, will carry on my whole life long.

another commitment that kenn and i made was to take a family vacation before baby number four arrives in august.  it was scheduled for this month after school gets out.  arranged by a dear friend, we'd be enjoying a week at a lake house in the mountains - for FREE.  we've had to cancel since my activity remains restricted, and i have been holding in my disappointment with a bit of angst flashing in and out of my mind.  don't we need this get-away? what can we do instead? will the kids feel gypped? i do. 

still, my thoughts are more occupied with realities like all the help we've been receiving.  we're brought a couple meals a week that usually amount to double that.  friends and acquaintances are visiting who typically don't, and others phone or email to check in.  though shut in most days, i don't feel isolated or lonely.  though exhausted most days, kenn perseveres with a heart that's content.  we (mostly kenn) have extra space for neighbors.  a few have stopped by more regularly and we've had opportunity to meet unexpected needs and to pass on what's been given to us.  a couple of kids from our block have shared in our family times of prayer and Bible reading.  our four-year-old gets to have daddy go on field trips and our youngest has a growing list of regular play dates at others' homes.  kenn takes the kids on excursions without feeling pulled in other directions or overwhelmed with work that's piling up. . .

are you getting the picture?  i just saw it this afternoon.  since kenn's position is part-time and the summer brings a lull in campus activity, he was permitted and encouraged by his supervisor to cut out whatever is needed to take care of us at home.  so he has done so.  this glitch in our plans - my limitations and kenn's total switch in roles - has literally created a break for us.  with more time to have fun together and to breathe in all of these gifts, we're already experiencing a sort of recess before summer's even begun!

momentarily, i had forgotten that all of this life of following Jesus is unconventional, right on down to vacations.

today i recognized God providing yet another alternate way.  he always does, when we are ready to see and to receive!

perspectives

after completing the required two weeks on bed rest, my symptoms returned.  as i have told people repeatedly, such trouble comes any time i pick up the pace, even slightly.  i remain on moderate bed rest and kenn and i are preparing for me to spend the remainder of the pregnancy this way.  i am very happy to be at 28 weeks already, but it still leaves a lot of time left in these challenging circumstances.  so much of the "usual" has to be adjusted.  we need new kinds of strength for these days.  and there's a lot that we have to give up.

it is helpful to not only know that others have gone through this but to hear their own stories.  i found a couple of books online where i have only read a few pages, and i have read a bit of online journals telling individuals' experiences with bed rest in pregnancy, and all of these have brought comfort.  what has also been valuable is taking inventory of all that i can celebrate now.  thanksgiving.

today i cried when i read from one blogger's notes how happy she was that her major complications in pregnancy happened during her third and not her first pregnancy.  if circumstances were reversed, she believes she may not have braved having more children.  it was a perspective that i hadn't considered for myself.  i had certainly considered how much harder it is this time around, being eleven years older with a body "altered" by two other pregnancies and having three children to care for.  what would my stance on four babies have been if my first pregnancy wasn't so completely serene? ah, perspective!  i cannot know the full measure of purpose for this season we're in nor the perfection of the timing of it all, but gratitude enables me to imagine.

here are a few things i've been thankful for today:

another baby who's life is already a blessing
water
a husband who listens well and selflessly serves
a husband who deeply engages his children
the ability to write
a laptop
surprise rainshowers
revelation
healthy sugar levels
a new neighbor
a mom who is lightening the housework load
clean clothes
grace
a comfortable chair and a cozy bed
the power of story
three pregnancies without bed rest
three phenomenal children
God's plans to use me to bless others
green leaves that fill the view from my window
the care of friends
an assuring conversation
a prayer answered
the Psalms
good food in the cabinets and fridge

day five

 

piety's strain

trying

to sift out

disappointments

You waited till i found

letdown wasn't put out

and put down striving
till i found You waiting

this day was one peppered with frustration over my bed rest orders, despite the fact that i had the privilege of being so "confined" in a beach town at a lovely b&b. with the frustration came guilt, then the foolishness of trying to right myself for the (hidden) fear that God was shaking his head at me and my whining. he is not so, mortal with ploys. the truth about him looks more like this (Isaiah 30:18):

     the LORD longs to be gracious to you;
          he rises to show you compassion.
     for the LORD is a God of justice.
          blessed are all who wait for him!

* * *

poem written by c. l. atkinson

day one

At 24 weeks pregnant with my fourth child, I've been put on bed rest.  Yesterday was Easter and the first day on such orders.  I enjoyed a quiet day at home while Kenn and the kids spent the holiday at the grandparents'.  Kenn did make a trip back to deliver to me a portion of the turkey dinner they'd all shared.

As I sat alone eating that meal, sadness began to creep in - mostly in the shape of self-pity.  Barely noticeable at first, I caught it and then looked it in its face. What are you pouting over? This is a loss imagined, not a fit place for grief.  I was holding man's traditions, a holiday, against the meaning of life preserved. And the life beginning inside of me.  This baby missed, now that would be a loss!

Gratitude returned just as fast as those woes had appeared and the food was consumed, reminding me that Resurrection is not a one-day hoopla and Rest is a longed-for gift.

(Written for On, In and Around Mondays.)