Wednesday, April 16, 2014


Once upon a time the theology of glory had crept its way into my definition of faith. The theology of glory likes to do that, especially in America. I once thought that having faith meant staying positive. I thought it meant hoping for the best, that God would give us OUR best. I thought it meant not being pessimistic and expecting blessing.

That is NOT faith. 

Faith is knowing, come what may, that Jesus is still Jesus. 

"Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen." Hebrews 11:1

But what are those "things hoped for"? Are they money, riches, a baby, a huge house, success, fame?

Further down in the passage we read:

"Women received back their dead by resurrection. Some were tortured, refusing to accept release, so that they might rise again to a better life. Others suffered mocking and flogging, and even chains and imprisonment. They were stoned, they were sawn in two, they were killed with the sword. They went about in skins of sheep and goats, destitute, afflicted, mistreated—of whom the world was not worthy—wandering about in deserts and mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth. And all these, though commended through their faith, did not receive what was promised, since God had provided something better for us, that apart from us they should not be made perfect." (Hebrews 11:35-40 ESV)

Are you in a time of plenty? God is good. Are you in a time of need? God is good. Are you facing illness, persecution, or death? God is good.

Saturday night I experienced the last of my morning sickness. It came to an abrupt end. I was 9 weeks and 1 day pregnant. I knew this was too early for the sickness to end. Sunday came and went, Monday came and went, and by Tuesday morning I knew I needed to call in for an ultrasound. I knew this baby was gone. I didn't feel like doing devotions with the kids but I forced myself remembering that the fiery darts of the devil are so easily extinguished with the Word and hymns. So the kids and I read our readings for the day and then sang "God's Own Child I Gladly Say it", "O Little Flock, Fear Not the Foe", and "Lord of our Life". With each hymn I felt my voice singing a little louder and with a little more peace, hope, and reassurance. I did not have faith or hope or reassurance that my baby would live, instead, I had faith and hope and reassurance that come what may, the Lord is with me. Behind me, beside me, within me. And if He leads me to grief, there is nothing I am experiencing that He has not already faced, but without sin.

We got our ultrasound time and I admit I was so sad and downcast. But faith is not defined by countenance but by assurance. And of this I was assured: that Christ always keeps me. Finally we sat face to face with that screen. I held my breath as the wand came to my skin, grimaced, pleaded for mercy regardless, and then beheld God's creation, complete with a flickering heart and wiggling hands and feet. One thing is for certain, this little one is feisty!

For today God has chosen this particular blessing in this particular way because He is God and He has called this good. I am overwhelmed with thankfulness. I do not know what tomorrow holds but I am so thankful that I know my faith is not defined by my definition of blessings, but by God's. Come famine, come pestilence, come persecution, come death, come hardship, come repetitive loss, Jesus is Good and His ways are always, always, for our good, to bring us to our heavenly home.

Thursday, April 10, 2014

It's happening

This past week we honored our Abel as we remembered him on his expected due date- 4-8-14. A dear friend and her husband, who we had asked to be the God parents for this child before he died, had a package show up at my door the day before. I waited to open it with my husband that night on the eve of his due date. It was a beautiful gold crucifix. Now we have a crucifix in every room on the first floor. I love it. And now I will always have that crucifix to look at to remind me not only of Christ's sacrifice that atoned for the sins of the entire world, but for my Abel's as well.

After I wrote my last post I spent a long time that evening in prayer confessing all of my fears to God. I didn't try to...piefy (piefy: v. to make pious-OK, yes, I made that up) my prayers but instead just confessed and, with few words, simply asked God to please help me.

I don't know why it surprises me sometimes when He gives me exactly what I ask for in the simplest of ways. I woke up Monday morning and things were different. My fear was gone. poof. I realized it right away, mid-morning, and thanked God for His tender mercy and then got distracted in the first couple days of my week. Tuesday night I realized again how worry free I was and told a couple friends about the wonderful blessing. Then I had a nightmare Tuesday night that I was miscarrying. I woke up and thought it was real, thought I was covered in blood, and then the worry came crashing back. I immediately got onto my knees and confessed it all again, once again asking God to have mercy on me and help me in my meager faith. By mid morning I was once again fear-free.

It's not that I don't know I could still lose this baby. I'm not naive nor does being worry free mean bad things won't happen. It's just that I have met death face to face 6 times in my own body. The Lord saw fit to allow us a long year of very intimate and isolating grief. This cross the Lord mercifully allowed in our lives may or may not be over, but it doesn't matter ... the Lord Jesus Christ who has redeemed me and atoned for my sins, atoned for the sins of this child as well. This baby is bathed in God's Word each and every day and, come what may, Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again. Lord, I am yours, save me.

Tomorrow I turn 9 weeks pregnant. Happy 9 weeks Genesis Hope. xo- we love you sweet baby.

Sunday, April 6, 2014

Stuck where I don't want to be

This morning in church just a couple words into the Old Testament reading for the day I had tears streaming down my face. It was the beloved passage in Ezekiel of the valley of the dry bones. When I was pregnant with Anastasia's dead body I read that passage out loud every day in faith that if the Lord wanted to He could raise my baby back to life.

The New Testament reading was the raising of Lazarus. Enter more tears.

It's strange being in the season of Lent at a different time of the year because I will always associate Lent now with finding out our baby was dead right before Ash Wednesday and then going through the first week of Lent plus a little of the next waiting to birth her, and then giving birth and waiting the rest of Lent to be able to bury her body because the ground was frozen. Now I'm in the season again but of course past all the dates of those events. Instead of being so close to Easter and finally being able to put flowers on my baby's grave, I'm waiting for the week after Easter when we are hoping to hear a heart beat on doppler. It was that 12 week appointment with our Anastasia where the doppler gave us nothing but stark silence.

It's an agonizing wait. I'll be brutally honest and say that even though I know I will be OK either way, by the grace of God, this wait, this not knowing, is torture. Every day I look for blood. Every time I'm not nauseous I worry. Every time I'm too nauseous I worry. I can't think about November or birth or feeling baby kick or newborn diapers or bringing up the maternity clothes or asking my neighbor for my arm's reach cosleeper back, because I don't believe any of it will be necessary/will happen.

If it weren't for Anastasia's death, I might not feel this way, but when a pregnancy is going textbook and one day, at 12 weeks for no apparent reason your baby dies...well, life doesn't feel like black and white anymore. Life in the womb seems like this grey area that can just slip away at any given moment. I suppose this is plenty true of life on earth too, but at least on earth we can usually point to a cause.

Back when I had my ultrasound with Anastasia we thought we had evidence of something drastically wrong with her. If you look back at my post around Feb 6 of 2013 where I show the ultrasound picture there was what looked like a "bubble" coming off of her head. The ultrasound tech assumed it was a head malformation that had caused her death. But when she was born, there was no sign of it and her head and face were perfect. We think whatever we saw was probably remaining yolk sac instead of a malformation.

I don't know how long Genesis will be with us. I don't know if her earthly life will only exist in the womb. I know no matter what I love and adore this child and am blessed beyond words to be this child's mother and protector for now. But this waiting time in pregnancy reminds me of what it's like to be stuck in grief.

I don't want to be here, but sometimes in life we have no choice. We don't choose grief and loss and death, it is simply the reality of existence in a fallen world. We cannot lift ourselves out of grief. We cannot choose for it to end. Only God, only our Lord Jesus Christ can lift us up in due time. In His time. And that is good. So very good. These inner workings in my body are not mine to know for now. They are Christ's.

So here I am. I'm in this strange existence between joy and grief. On the one hand I still miss my babies in heaven dreadfully and cry for the children that have all been housed in my body the past year. On the other, I think about this child that might still be alive in my womb right now, maybe even starting to move those tiny hand and feet plates that should be forming, and I smile a private small smile and pray so fervently for this child. I read God's Word out loud and sing God's hymns and read the Catechism out loud and receive God's body and blood, but then I must wait. Even if I had an ultrasound every week that doesn't mean that a day later my baby wouldn't die. So, I must just wait. And wait. And pray the day will come that I can actually feel this baby kicking and squirming inside of me. But then there's always still waiting and praying. And even if this child is granted an earthly life, there is still waiting and praying as the child grows and changes and lives.

Whether or not I parent this child here, the reality is, these children belong to the Lord. This is the walk we are called to as parents, as humans. We are not our own, we are the Lord's, as are our children, and so we wait. We wait and pray and keep our eyes on the horizon. He IS coming back. So in the mean time we muddle through as best we can. Our lives may be full of weeping and mourning, laughter and play, feasting and fasting, rest and sleeplessness, illness and health, isolation and company. We, by the grace of God, take it as it comes, do our best to strengthen our weak knees for this walk, but know all along that Christ goes before us, behind us, and within us.

O Little Flock, fear not the foe,
Who madly seeks your overthrow,
Dread not his rage and power,
and though your courage sometimes faints,
his seeming triumph o'er God's saints,
lasts but a little hour.

As true as God's own Word is true,
Not earth nor hell's satanic crew,
against us shall prevail,
their might? A joke, a mere facade!
God is with us, and we with God,
our victory cannot fail. (LSB vs 1,3 #666)

Christ keep us.

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

The Big Picture

Yesterday morning I woke up in one of those confused stupors where I couldn't remember what day it was or what I needed to be doing and in those moments I forgot that I am pregnant. I sorted out things I knew until I was back in the present and then, once I remembered that I am pregnant, I also realized how 100% pregnancy absorbed I have been over the past few weeks. Obviously, this is understandable for someone that has been pregnant 6 times in a little over a year. And yet, waking up momentarily "not pregnant", also gave me a little glimpse at all the other things going on in my life right now that need my focus while this baby really does not as much. One of my sons is about to turn 6 this month and, of course, we also have Holy Week and Easter just a few short weeks away. My in laws are visiting later this month and then next month we have a Pastor's conference to attend and I have a church event to hostess. As the calendar moves on, we have more things filling it than open space and it has brought me back to more of a focus on what I have at this moment, not what I hope will be.

Right now little Genesis is tucked inside me hopefully all safe and sound. We pray daily, multiple times a day, as a family, for our sweet baby. And yet, there's also the reality that though this baby has been given into my body, he or she has not yet been given into my arms. So, I do what I can for this child: rest, try to eat through the all day nausea, and get moderate exercise, but, with warm weather approaching and a garden needing planting, well, I suppose there's only so much looking down one can do before you have to look up at the bigger picture.

Friday, March 28, 2014

lil Genesis grows

Today I got to see a living baby on ultrasound. I had a couple little scares this week that warranted a nurse to schedule a same day ultrasound this morning and by 1pm my husband and I were driving over. My heart was pounding and I was terrified. I tried to think what to pray and what to think but found myself humming "Why Should Cross and Trial Grieve Me?" over and over softly. I comforted myself with a sweet sister's words today that so often we are tempted to hold God to our own parameters for how we want to be blessed and in what time frame rather than realizing the ways God has chosen to bless us. I reminded myself that God has chosen to bless us in the past in one way but that does not mean He will choose that for us now.

My husband and I made our way to the waiting room and cracked little jokes. Then we hugged and my husband prayed. He didn't say "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit." as he normally does, instead he started his prayer as if he was in the middle of a prayer. I think he was. And is. He's a great guy, my husband.

We went back to joking little sweet jokes and then my husband told me, "I think this baby is OK." He smiled gently and then we were called back.

I liked the technician right away. She was young but tall, pretty, and extremely open as far as what we were doing. She was talkative but not overly. We started with the abdominal ultrasound and I told her how far along I was. She positioned the wand with the new warming gel that is so awesome and I held my breath. I hate those moments where you see womb but not the black hole of the sac and baby. But suddenly there was the sac...was it empty? For a moment I thought it was. She zoomed in and suddenly there was something...zoomed in more and then a flicker. A fast flicker. :) My baby had a beating heart. I cried. And laughed. And I shook the ultrasound. Finally we switched to internal in order to get the heart rate and date the pregnancy. We got a closer look and could just make out arm and leg buds and I thought I saw the slightest wiggle in them. The heart thundered at 132 bpm and the yolk sac was nice and big. Though my LMP dates the pregnancy at 6 wks 4 days, the ultrasound and my own foreknowledge of when the baby was conceived dated the baby at 7 wks. Right on date.

Today felt like stepping out into the sun on the beach. My happy place. Today God chose this particular blessing in this particular way for whatever reason and we are overjoyed. We don't know what the future holds, what form God's blessings will or will not take, but always, always, Jesus is still Jesus and we always have Him where He promises to be: Baptism, His Supper, His Holy Word, and Confession and Absolution.

Thank you Jesus for our sweet Genesis and for all 11 of our children. To God be the glory forever and ever.

Tuesday, March 25, 2014


"You cast your sins from yourself and onto Christ when you firmly believe that His wounds and sufferings are your sins, to be borne and paid for by Him, as we read in Isaiah 53:6, "The Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all." St. Peter says, "in His body has He borne our sins on the wood of the cross" [1Pet. 2:24]. St. Paul says, "God has made Him a sinner for us, so that through Him we would be made just" [ 11 Cor. 5:21]. You must stake everything on these and similar verses. The more your conscience torments you, the more tenaciously must you cling to them. If you do not do that, but presume to still your conscience with your contrition and penance, you will never obtain peace of mind, but will have to despair in the end. If we allow sin to remain in our conscience and try to deal with it there, or if we look at sin in our heart, it will be much too strong for us and will live on forever. But if we behold it resting on Christ and [see it] overcome by His resurrection, and then boldly believe this, even it is dead and nullified. Sin cannot remain on Christ, since it is swallowed up by His resurrection." -Martin Luther

I read this writing with my children in yesterday's Treasury of Daily Prayer church father writing. I had to read it again and again. Never have I heard the true purpose of contrition and repentance explained so beautifully, so perfect. I've always struggled with confession and contrition. I've always wanted to rake myself over the coals as much as possible but then always come up knowing no good has been done. At times I've thought God cruel to leave us in such a state where we can not only not overcome sin but have to be face to face with its wretchedness every. single. day.

Read this part again:

"If we allow sin to remain in our conscience and try to deal with it there, or if we look at sin in our heart, it will be much too strong for us and will live on forever. But if we behold it resting on Christ and [see it] overcome by His resurrection, and then boldly believe this, even it is dead and nullified. Sin cannot remain on Christ, since it is swallowed up by His resurrection."

Now contrition is sweet, is it not? Now it is beautiful. Now it is purposeful. Oh what a precious gift! We must continue to repent, to be immersed in contrition, over and over but only so that we can look from the depravity of our sins, the utter helplessness they leave us in and then look to the cross where we can see sin swallowed up forever. The moment we cease to drown ourselves in contrition and repentance is the moment we cease to see our need for Christ. So we repent and then we look to the cross where:

"Behold, He is making all things new!" Revelations 21:5

Wednesday, March 19, 2014


This morning I was coaching gymnastics to a slew of little kids in our home school group. I was teaching the children how to do cartwheels and was on my knees helping children one by one. I had been doing it for quite some time and was starting to work up a sweat helping lift the children's legs off the ground when, out of nowhere I felt a familiar hot rush of what I was sure was blood. In one moment the entire past year came rushing back. I couldn't breathe and felt like the floor had just vanished from under me. I held my breath and then took a few deep breaths while finishing up with the children. Then I excused myself and rushed to a private place to assess the damage. There was nothing. Not a drop. And ya'll? I felt it as real as real can be. And yet it wasn't real. Unbelievable.

It took the rest of the day to get my head screwed on straight again. When I got home I spent some time sitting on the couch with a heating pad on my tummy (don't worry, not too much heat) because that strange cold feeling in my womb had crept back in and then a dear Pastor friend who also happened to grow up in the same church as me and sing in the youth choir with me, messaged me randomly to tell me how much he is praying for me and this baby of ours and how overjoyed he is for me. I told him my fears and how hard it is right now and he comforted me by telling me to look up a few hymns. One of the hymns was side by side with a hymn that we sang while we were faced with losing Amadeus last year so it was sweet to see that hymn again.

The main hymn this pastor offered was this:

"Lord, it Belongs Not to My Care" LSB: 757

Lord, it belongs not to my care whether I die or live; To love and serve Thee is my share, And this Thy grace must give.

If life be long, I will be glad that I may long obey; if short, yet why should I be sad to soar to endless day?

Christ leads me through no darker rooms than He went through before; He that unto God's kingdom comes must enter by this door.

Come, Lord, when grace has made me meet Thy blessed face to see; For if thy work on earth be sweet, What will Thy glory be!

Then shall I end my sad complaints and weary, sinful days and join with the triumphant saints who sing my Savior's praise.

My knowledge of that life is small, the eye of faith is dim; but 'tis enough that Christ knows all, and I shall be with Him.

After messaging with this Pastor I ate a small lunch, put my kids down for a rest, and then spent some time in prayer followed by a nap. Then we got up and headed to church for the Lent service and soup supper. I don't know how many days this baby has been granted to have earthly life or if those days will be very few remaining, but all I can do is lean on the faith Christ has granted me and keep walking this road, however dark it is. For one sweet day, the darkness will forever be banished, come what may.