It's all an illusion.

Pain and loss, disease and war, none of these are laughing matters. None of these things are creations of our Lord, none of them exist in creation as He intended.

So, today, as I see the headlines of America going crazy on "black Friday", my heart may be sad for the brokenness, but it is not afraid. To fear something means there is uncertainty in our outcome. But these are but birth pains, and all things are under the power of our Lord Jesus Christ. The mess is not a creation of our Lord Jesus, but all of creation is subject to Him, thanks be to God. So, there is no fear, because we are His.

Therefore, sometimes it helps to just turn off the news, put down the phones, and go build legos with the boys, or put your hands to something beautiful. He is coming soon. Amen, come Lord Jesus.

Get that ball rolling

         In late spring the kids and I tagged along with Daddy to his pastor's conference. We love going along because it's a small free vacation, albeit without Daddy because he's in conference all day. The kids and I enjoy relaxing in the hotel and sometimes exploring local museums or kid centers. This hotel happened to have an indoor pool with floor to ceiling windows all along one wall that looked into the hallway directly outside the room where the pastors were all having the presentations. They often left the doors open into the hallway so that as I sat watching the kids (and holding my five month old), I could also peek into the conference room. And, when Daddy had breaks, he could wave into the pool and come in to see how we were.

It was during one of these breaks that he told me he was sitting next to one of his classmates from his DMin program at the seminary. This classmate happened to be deliberating a call, two actually (three if you count his then current call). One of them was to overseas missions. My husband was completely engrossed in this conversation and in hearing every detail of this classmate's application process and then contemplation. His classmate happened to be really struggling with his overseas call because he had gone through the months-long application process and, after all of that, how does one then turn down the call even if it is not right? But, as Adam talked about his friend's struggle, my husband was strangely excitable. I was too busy tending to 5 kids in a hotel to pay much attention so I listened to him go on about missions the entire conference, it was a fun break from normal kid conversation, to talk about adventures unknown while out of town.

We went home and life returned to normal, or so I thought, but that week is what I look back on as starting the ball rolling on this crazy adventure we've been on since that week in early spring. (Though, if I'm being honest, a lot longer than that because of all the people that had approached my husband about this over the past three to four years.)

Fast forward 7 months and my husband is currently deliberating a call to Africa. I won't give specifics here because this is a public blog, but this is an adventure I never in a million years would have ever, and I mean EVER, pegged for myself.

This call is the hardest thing we have ever had to decide. It is downright heart wrenching to think of leaving our church, and the members have reciprocated the same feelings during this time of contemplation. And yet, we cannot ignore the ways God has worked during these months of talks with regional missions directors and the work God is doing in foreign lands. I see the gifts and talents my husband has, and I look at his two calls, and I find myself thinking I wish we could do two things at once!

We have been deliberating his two calls (the one we currently serve and the one overseas) for a little over a month already. Missions is being very patient with us and we have another two and a half weeks before we have to give our decision. We are hoping to have an answer before that because this deliberating stuff is like waiting to go into labor while 40 weeks...or..maybe it's like being STUCK in labor!! It needs to end. Will we continue to live our lives here in a beautiful city in America where life makes sense and we have more blessings than we could ever thank God enough for, or will we embark on the journey of a lifetime to perils unknown...with our 5 boys in tow? Lord have mercy and guide us!

In a Pinterest world

A couple weeks ago I officially joined Pinterest. At least I think I did. As soon as I was done putting in my information and received an email that said something about "congratulations" on joining, well, duty called. My newborn woke up as he blasted breastmilk poop up his back and began squalling the most pathetic cry. I can tell he's the baby of the family right now because he has the "feel sorry for me" cry mastered.

I have not been on Pinterest since. I am sure it is amazing and I am sure it is super helpful and I am even sure it would revolutionize my world. Pinterest would probably solve all my mommy problems, make me the envy of my friends, and make me sparkle and shine.

But the thing is, I am too tired for that. Nor do I have any desire to sparkle. And honestly, this little glowing journal is about the only place I desire to be online these days. It is my little haven in the darkness.

At 3:30 this morning the tiny person who shares our bed decided it was a good time to spray me with breastmilk. It ran down my chest, into my v-neck shirt, and into my sleeping bra where it puddled in all it's warm sliminess. I cringed and reached for the cold wipes to clean myself up while I picked up the baby with the other hand to comfort him and clean him up. I put him on my shoulder to burp him  and the hand that was supporting his bottom felt a wet warmth. I slowly took my hand away, almost afraid to look, and there was a smear of yellow on my hand. I bit my lip, which lately has become raw from all the chewing, and grabbed a diaper and a change of baby clothes. Two diaper changes, 45 minutes of nursing, and three outfit changes later (one for him, two for me), we finally slipped back to sleep.

The greatest part was, I didn't cry from exhaustion and was somehow even able to smile and talk sweetly to my little man as I took care of his needs. I am needed. And he is super cute.

One day my 8 year old son asked me, "Mama? What is the meaning of life? I mean, if we can't stop sinning and be perfect, why does God leave us here instead of just taking us home where we can be perfect and live with Him?"

First I laughed inwardly that my little child could not realize the question he asked probably has more books written on the topic than any other subject and is debated more heavily than perhaps even politics, then I responded simply, "The meaning of life is love. God wants to make us rich in service, rich in our vocation, because when we are rich in service we know love and we know Him because He is love."

"Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God. Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love. In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God abides in us and his love is perfected in us."
(1 John 4:7-12 ESV)

I have 4 little boys that I am homeschooling and their newborn brother, 1 little baby girl that I watch full time for her working Mama, and 1 giant dog that is nearly as tall as my husband. He really is more of a horse. And he is an indoor dog. And lately I am a lot more careful about going out in public. I suppose I am something of a spectacle. I understand this and I understand the frequent comment, "Do you know what causes that?".  Kids are an insult to our sparkly, dignified, and intense need for a perfectly fake persona. Why do we try so hard to fool ourselves? I suppose it goes back to my 8 year old's question. "What is the meaning of life?"

Look, I don't have kids because it makes me sparkly or because it's fun or because then I can impress you with my Pinterest mothering skills. I understand that we will make you uncomfortable as I walk through the store and perhaps have not showered and my kids are wearing their unmatched outfits they picked out themselves because I was too busy cleaning up the kitchen and running loads of laundry. I am sure it will be a huge inconvenience to your shopping experience if one of the babies starts screaming and I have to scold the toddler or chastise the school age children. I do not have it all together, my kids are real kids with real emotions, I am a real person with real emotions, and I know you are probably thinking that if I just knew what caused this I might stop it already so that I can put myself together more and stop embarrassing myself.

In 9 years I have been pregnant 11 times. Six of those 11 times I have hidden away in my bathroom to shed my blood as my babies went home to the Lord (which also insulted plenty of people). The other five for now are mine. But I cannot stop it. I cannot stop procreation because it is not I who put them there. The Lord has called me to marriage and therefore to a one flesh union in marriage and as a result I receive the fruits of that marriage as He desires to give or not give them. A + B = C. It is God Who calls and God Who gives.

Every day I am rich. I am rich in opportunity to serve and to love. I am rich in my vocation. I go to bed exhausted from head to toe, I have more jobs than I can accomplish in a day...or a week, and I am needed. And in my kids' need for me I am reminded of my need for Christ. When I am frustrated, overwhelmed, alone, and haven't even had opportunity to think of myself in hours or even days, I think on Christ who came to earth without my asking or even knowing that I needed Him in order that He might die, for me, and for all.

My kids need me because they are weak, helpless, often dumb or at least ignorant, and rebellious to anything that is good for them. They choose the worst possible moments to misbehave, act foolish, get sick, and make me face sin in front of everyone I wish I could impress. But, instead, I am left facing my own complete lack of control over not only their sin, but mine. I am left completely broken. But there's a certain freedom in being broken. When you have no one left to impress (and know you never can anyways), all that is left is to live to die to my own desires, to my own selfish ambitions, and to my own desire to be applauded and, by the power of the Holy Spirit, be raised up to serve in His love, mercy, and grace while we wait for His return. Come Soon, Lord Jesus.

Conclusion: The Birth and Why I Jumped Ship on Home Birth

I have to admit, I've been avoiding this place the past couple days. The story was easy to tell. There's something about a story that makes it easy to separate yourself from and feel like a reporter instead. I love simply restating the events in order to remember how it all went down later.

But in the quiet moments that have happened since arriving home: when the baby is asleep, the kids are all down, and my husband is snoring next to me, then I have sat staring at my baby's perfect tiny face and my thoughts have surfaced. I cheated.

I can hear the collective moan across cyber space and I can imagine the comments now. No one wants to hear they cheated. Imagine telling a woman with hyperemesis that she "cheated" to take medication to control her vomiting. Imagine telling a woman who has her baby at home that it's cheating to give birth in the water. Imagine telling a man plowing the field that it's cheating to use modern farm equipment or that it's cheating to ride to work in a vehicle. Cheating the curse.

I cheated the curse.

But....what curse?

"For all who rely on works of the law are under a curse; for it is written, “Cursed be everyone who does not abide by all things written in the Book of the Law, and do them.” Now it is evident that no one is justified before God by the law, for “The righteous shall live by faith.” But the law is not of faith, rather “The one who does them shall live by them.” Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us—for it is written, “Cursed is everyone who is hanged on a tree”—so that in Christ Jesus the blessing of Abraham might come to the Gentiles, so that we might receive the promised Spirit through faith." (Galatians 3:10-14 ESV)

Cursed be anyone who relies on the works of the law! Shall I bear my own curse? Shall I convince myself that if I birth alone in pain at home that my birth is somehow more pious and more worthy than a woman who has every pain medication the world can provide? Lord have mercy on those of us who are so trapped in the works of the law in our own mind. 

"Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us."!!! Christ has come, Christ has risen! Christ will come again!

I have to admit, I have walked around the past two weeks so free from post birth emotional trauma that I have actually FORGOTTEN that I gave birth and caught myself still mentally coaching myself on my upcoming birth! Several times in the past two weeks I have gone to take a hot bath to relieve some of the post birth aches and while relaxing deeply in the tub have begun to think on my upcoming birth! I have to laugh each time, out loud, that I could actually forget I have given birth. But I have been trying so very hard to prepare for the birth knowing I was going to have to get through a natural childbirth at home again that it's hard to just turn that off. My birth supplies are still here, untouched. It's weird! So, we finally packed them up and put them in the basement to await the future. 

So, will I ever go back?

I am so glad I do not have to answer that today. With my fourth child I was determined from about the half way point of pregnancy to rock childbirth. I needed it. I craved it. I was like a running addict looking at my next marathon. And one that was not only determined to run, but to win. Maybe that will happen again and I'll be crazy enough to have another home birth. (smile and wink) And I have to admit, the one regret I have is that my children were not with me. The only two home births I have had (my other two were born out of hospital but in other locations than my home) were my first and my third which ended with a near death experience for me and a hospital stay. So, nostalgically, I ached for a "beautiful" home birth in which my kids could gather around me to see their sibling born and we could all revel in the peace and warmth of our home afterwards. 

I shared this with my eldest son when I returned home from the hospital. He is the one we label as being gifted in the area of "human care and compassion". Extremely gifted. So I shared this with him and he gave me a half smile that was also mixed with a measure of little boy grossed-outedness, and he said, "Um, that's OK mom, I didn't really want to hear you yell anyways." I had to laugh out loud. And he's right. For all that mama tries to romanticize it, birth is loud, it's messy, and mama doesn't really want her other kids around her once the baby is out anyways. At least not for more than 5 minutes. 

I don't know what the future holds. I don't know if the Lord will bless us with anymore children or if He does, if they will be children that are given to live here or not. I am thankful that this birth resulted in an amazing relationship with my family practice Dr., who aided me in delivering my son, and that she is here to guide me and help me as we navigate what happened at the end of this pregnancy and how that could affect me and any pregnancy in the future. We don't know if the platelet thing is something I have always had, since I never had those drawn in any previous pregnancies, and if it might explain my bleeding troubles. We also don't know if it's something that will get worse with each pregnancy and if it's something that my levels will get lower faster each time. These are things we will know in time and they will help us make wise decisions. 

I do know that I have never felt so at peace post birth, that I have never felt quite this calm and happy. I have jokingly called the epidural I received my "Gospel epidural". 

And I think that's what it all boils down to...why are you making the choice you are making? Is it because it's really what works for you, what you like, and what is best for you or is it because it is earning you righteousness in your own made up laws? When it becomes a matter of pride, something you feel you HAVE to do, are we not joining the ranks of the pharisees? 

I had a hospital birth. I got an epidural. I had a catheter, IV antibiotics, continuous fetal monitoring, tons and tons of IV fluids, and I don't think I have ever laughed so much during labor ever. And that reminds me of one of the most beautiful quotes I have heard in a long time: 

“Whenever the devil harasses you, seek the company of men or drink more, or joke and talk nonsense, or do some other merry thing. Sometimes we must drink more, sport, recreate ourselves, and even sin a little to spite the devil, so that we leave him no place for troubling our consciences with trifles. We are conquered if we try too conscientiously not to sin at all. So when the devil says to you: do not drink, answer him: I will drink, and right freely, just because you tell me not to.”
― Martin Luther

We must cling to law where law really exists, "Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength and love your neighbor as yourself." Though the Christian knows that this law really turns back around to Christ who is the One responsible for granting us the faith with which to accomplish this! And so when we feel burdened, harassed, and weighed down beyond our strength and ability, well, it's time for an epidural. God be praised. 

The whole world's going crazy...

...but not in here.  Soli Deo Gloria

Your Sorrow Will Turn into Joy

[16] “A little while, and you will see me no longer; and again a little while, and you will see me.” [17] So some of his disciples said to one another, “What is this that he says to us, ‘A little while, and you will not see me, and again a little while, and you will see me’; and, ‘because I am going to the Father’?” [18] So they were saying, “What does he mean by ‘a little while’? We do not know what he is talking about.” [19] Jesus knew that they wanted to ask him, so he said to them, “Is this what you are asking yourselves, what I meant by saying, ‘A little while and you will not see me, and again a little while and you will see me’? [20] Truly, truly, I say to you, you will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice. You will be sorrowful, but your sorrow will turn into joy. [21] When a woman is giving birth, she has sorrow because her hour has come, but when she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world. [22] So also you have sorrow now, but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you. (John 16:16-22 ESV)

The Darkness Deepens: And why that's OK.

In the past few months I've come under a lot of ridicule for the title of my blog. I was confronted rather harshly by a couple of loved ones and it sometimes still confounds me.

Today was a bad day. I woke up to two of my children rowdily getting out of bed (which they are not allowed to do) and thus awakening their baby brother who was in his big boy bed for his very first night. They woke him-and me- up an hour before we are accustomed to getting up. But because baby boy was awake I had to hop out of bed and get up there because he also just potty trained and I needed to get his night time diaper off so he could use the potty. Within the span of an hour I dealt with about 5 meltdowns from over-tired children, a dog that was insisting on trying to dig holes in the yard and eat his own poop, a few huge spills (two of which were the dog and included him grabbing a full cup of smoothie and tossing it up into the air where it hit the wall and splattered all over himself, the wall, and the floor and the other of which was a half drank bottle of kefir, which he enjoyed immensely). By the time my husband got up I wanted to sob and was so tired I didn't know what to do with myself.

This evening my husband left for church and I sent the children upstairs to play. I read an article that I had seen linked to and had been wanting to check out because I'm always up for a good lashing that will remind me how selfish I am so I can try to repent more, be better, and therefore attain piety.....um, what? Yea, don't deny it, you know you are too:

http://nogreaterjoy.org/articles/the-me-monster/

Thankfully I'm getting better at spotting these types of articles for what they are and turning to what Scripture actually says.

About the only thing I found truly helpful about the above link was the very last recommendation to counter one's own thoughts with God's Word. But my passages would look far different from hers. See how she beats herself down with more law? Law for law. She shares in depth a very deep and very hard personal struggle to the Law and how she was about nearly crushed from her need to find perceived perfection in the Amish faith and then how does she say she came out of it? Here was her before:

"What about me? I am tired! Furthermore, I want to raise my kids Amish; my husband won’t allow me to do this; what about my dreams? What about how I feel? They are my kids too! I have been through so much. I, I, I, and what about me, me, me” (notice the “ME” monster). That was my sin. Depression is selfish. When you are depressed, you are only thinking about yourself—about poor and unfortunate ME. I was seeking my own. "

And here is her solution to this problem:

"Once I got my focus off myself and onto what my purpose was, and onto Christ, it really made me get better. I had to start realizing that things could be worse. I had to start seeing things differently. I was really bad.....I want to be patient, to endure the hard times, and understand God’s perfect will and timing in the lives of others."

Hmmm....Do you see the problem here? I don't see any loss of the "me monster" she claims to have found to solve her problem.

My dear sisters, you cannot rid yourself of the "me monster". You simply cannot. You cannot stop hurting, you cannot stop muddling through the diapers and the laundry and the filth and the hardships...they (the hurting, the selfishness, the desire to be free from our burdens and sins) just aren't going to go away. They just aren't. The low pressure weather systems with the storms building up behind them kind of days that depress us (or at least me) are still going to come, the news is still going to show the insanity going on around the world that leads us to stare in horror and go, "What the hell?", and we are still going to yell sometimes, be as selfish as the naughtiest 2 year old sometimes, and just not have the energy to do more than throw sugar laden junk at our kids to get them to SIT DOWN AND BE QUIET sometimes. 

So what does God's Word say to us? Sisters, the secret when going through God's Word is not to apply law to law. Oh yes, those passages the author of the article shared are God's Inspired Word but did you see their context? Those passages are not written in the context of applying to the hurting, the broken, the law-sick person. Read through the entire Bible and you see that God never changes: He applies law to the unrepentant haters of God and GOSPEL to the hurting, despairing, but faith filled believers in Christ..So read these:

"Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time He may exalt you, 7 casting all your anxieties on Him, because He cares for you. 8 Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.9 Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world. 10 And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you. 11 To him be the dominion forever and ever. Amen." 1 Peter 5:6-11 (emphasis mine)

"[13] Did that which is good, then, bring death to me? By no means! It was sin, producing death in me through what is good, in order that sin might be shown to be sin, and through the commandment might become sinful beyond measure. [14] For we know that the law is spiritual, but I am of the flesh, sold under sin. [15] For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. [16] Now if I do what I do not want, I agree with the law, that it is good. [17] So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. [18] For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. [19] For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. [20] Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. [21] So I find it to be a law that when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand. [22] For I delight in the law of God, in my inner being, [23] but I see in my members another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. [24] Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? [25] Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself serve the law of God with my mind, but with my flesh I serve the law of sin. "(Romans 7:13-25 ESV)

"Some went down to the sea in ships,

doing business on the great waters;

24 they saw the deeds of the Lord,

his wondrous works in the deep.

25 For he commanded and raised the stormy wind,

which lifted up the waves of the sea.

26 They mounted up to heaven; they went down to the depths;

their courage melted away in their evil plight;

27 they reeled and staggered like drunken men

and were at their wits' end.

28 Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble,

and he delivered them from their distress.

29 He made the storm be still,

and the waves of the sea were hushed.

30 Then they were glad that the waters were quiet,

and he brought them to their desired haven." Psalm 107:23-30

Christ has died, Christ is Risen, Christ will come again. And HE will lift you up in due time. And in the mean time we keep on asking our children to forgive us, we forgive as we have been forgiven, and we drag our weary souls where He promises to be: His Word and His Body and Blood, and in the remembrance of our Baptisms. There we find strength for our souls and the courage to keep moving. He IS coming indeed! If there is one thing I hope my children learn from me it is that life is like the above Psalm. We will stagger and fall and be at our wits' end...but Jesus comes, He always comes. I hope my children always know we cannot save ourselves and we can never be good enough, Mommy certainly is not, but we are LOVED, we are FORGIVEN, and Christ gives us His Very Self and does not leave us as orphans. We are His, bought with His Blood, and it's OK to be sad, it's OK to have bad days, we forgive and keep on moving in Christ's help and Christ's joy. 

Peace be with you and Christ keep you.

It's official...

I am a northerner. I have been away from my childhood home in Florida for 12 years now and I have decided I am officially a northerner. The first clue came when we traveled to the seminary a few weeks ago so my husband could complete an intensives class and it reached 95 degrees. It was SO UNBELIEVABLY HOT that I thought I was going to die. When we drove home and I stepped out of the car to temps in the 60s I breathed a huge sigh of relief.

Our summer has been soooo mild this year, I think the hottest day has been 85 or so (in which we all stayed inside because it was "too hot"), and I have been just loving it. And...for the first time in 12 years, other than one random day in early summer, I have not had this crazy urge for the beach that makes me whine to my husband for weeks on end. In fact, I am finding more and more love for the hills, the lakes, and the cool breezes.

I think our weather is gorgeous. I love the four seasons, I even love most of winter as we enjoy all the nice hot food, drinks, and indoor cuddling. I will admit I grew very very grouchy this winter as it was the worst winter this place had seen in over 30 years. But even so, I wouldn't change it. I love this place.

Unschooling

Nomenclature is a powerful thing. One word can conjure up all sorts of images, positive or negative, in someone's mind. People will avoid or cringe at the use of certain words based on their experience, impression, or the reputation associated with using them.

For a long time the word "unschooling" made me cringe. I saw strange loner kids running comic book shops in my mind when I heard the word. Now, however, in the last several months I have learned to love the word. But, not for my children. I love the word for MYSELF. To explain I'll share this article:

http://thelibertarianhomeschooler.com/a/  Go read it. I'll wait.


Seriously, read it people. It's short, I promise. And, really worth it.


Done?

That article was me. In my class of over 600 students I graduated 7th. I rocked the school thing. I was a "GOOD STUDENT". But was I really? Was I really a dedicated learner? To be fair there were a fair number of subjects that really interested me that I could probably still tell you quite a bit of information concerning the things I learned. But, my grades do not reflect the classes in which this was true. Because, if they did, I would be able to tell you about every subject with great accuracy.

It makes me sad that the only thing I really learned to do well is please people by following the rules, being likable and submissive, and doing what was expected of me.

I did not learn to love learning. I did not learn to think independently. I did not learn to ask questions, to question, to be critical, to refuse, and to truly understand my rights and lack thereof.

I looked up the definition of the prefix "un" and this is what I found:

un- 1 pref. 1. Not: unhappy. 2. Opposite of; contrary to: unrest. un- 2 pref. 1. To reverse or undo the result of a specified action: unbind. 2. a. To deprive of or remove a specified thing: unfrock. b. To release, free, or remove from: unyoke. 3. Used as an intensive: unloose. Using the second definition, number 1, it has taken 9 years to unschool myself. I am still in that process and it is painful. They say it really takes 9 months for a woman who has given birth to recover. "9 months to grow a baby, 9 months to recover from birthing that baby." I hope it does not take me 18 years to unschool my mind.

My children fit under the first definition, 1 and 2.

My children are living. They are serving. They are growing, but we are not schooling them. We are raising them. We are training them. And they, with all their God-given curiosities and passions, are devouring knowledge as quickly as they can. It's amazing to watch.  We learn in all sorts of ways, at all times, in all places. We read, we study, we write, we listen, we ask questions, we debate, but we are not robots drilling information that someone else decided my children had to know in order to be a functioning person. There's a reason the show "Are you smarter than a 5th grader?" was so popular. It was hysterical to watch adults flounder at information that if a 9 year old child does not regurgitate, he or she will fail! And yet, all of these adults were functioning, working, successful adults.

Government schools are a blessing to many people. They provide opportunities for not only jobs but also for children who cannot be at home for one reason or another. I had many amazing teachers who made a huge impact in my life and tons of fun experiences in those government schools. But I am so thankful, SO thankful to live in a country where that can be a last resort for my children. May that right never be taken away.

Whom do you serve?

"Mama, were they the good guys or the bad guys?"

"What?" I asked. (more to give myself a chance to think than because I didn't hear him)

"Were they the good guys or the bad guys?"

The question came from my 8 year old son as we discussed two military groups who were at war with one another. One of the military groups happened to be that of the United States of America.

I paused as I felt the inner turmoil of the answer I knew I had heard numerous times and the answer I knew was correct because of my faith. I went with the latter.

"Son? Are you a sinner?"

"Yes."

"Are all men sinners?"

"Yes."

"Are all men wicked...bad?"

He paused thoughtfully..."yes".

"So which side is the 'good guys'?"

"Neither?"

"That's right, son. War is wicked. God alone has the right to wage justice on the wicked. He has given authority to government leaders to rule earthly kingdoms but that does not mean that war is ever good. All killing and all war is evidence of the effects of sin and of our fallen status before God. It should grieve us. But even further, the only just war is the war fought in immediate self defense."

This conversation took place the week leading up to Memorial Day. It really got me thinking and meditating on all the things I have learned since leaving my upbringing in the institutionalized schools of our country and learning to really ask questions and scrutinize our country and its claims. There are so many things to be thankful for in this country, so many things to be proud of and happy about...but there are also so many things to be worried about, grieved over, and angry about.

So as Memorial day drew close, I began to see the articles and the facebook pictures and statuses praising our fallen heros. Again I felt that tug between the phrases that had been implanted in me as a child in government schools and what I knew to be true according to God's Word. You know the phrases, "These men fought so we could be free." "Freedom isn't free." "He gave his life so you could enjoy yours." And on and on and on.

I would never question the amazing sacrifice a man or woman makes to leave their family to join the military.

I would never question the terror of a man or woman losing their life or their limbs/health in combat.

I would never question the bravery of a man or woman leaving home for another country, entering territories unknown to carry out missions too scary for my wildest dreams.

I do not question the heart and desire of a man or woman to defend their beloved country home and the thankfulness in their heart with which they do this. 

But my question is...did not Hitler's men do the same things? Hear me out. My son was once given a book about the WWII German battleship, The Bismark. He was so excited to read through it with my husband. The story went in depth to the men who gave their lives when the battleship was sunk and those who survived. The most riveting thing about the book was how...kind...how....honoroable...how...human...those men were. As I read it I felt sick. These men had families, they had lives they left behind, they fought with the same desire to protect the country they loved from the threats they were told existed. These men also did not know Hitler personally, nor did they have any idea about the concentration camps.

But fast forward to today and if you met a Nazi soldier would you not turn your face in horror? Does not the very word make you cringe?

All men are evil.

And this brings me to my concern. My son is hearing about war, sees our soldiers dressed in uniform and the praise given them and my question is...who do these men fight for? WHAT are they fighting for? Oh sure, we know what happened on Sept. 11, 2001, but everything since then has been a strange blur of information, misinformation, confusion, blame casting, lies...and it makes me wonder...how many of our wars are truly just?

"They are fighting for our freedom."

Which freedom?

Who is their leader? Is he honorable? Are his motives honorable? Who is he really? Who are we really? What are our leaders goals?

And, if he is not honorable, if his motives are not honorable, if his ambitions are not honorable...then what does that say about the lives of these men and women who are fighting for him, for his administration? Most of these men and women, even if we had a full blown Hitler situation going on, would not know it. They are given orders and they fulfill them to the best of their ability. They do it because it's their job, because they love their country, because they desire to keep us safe....

But what are we to believe as Christians? Whom do we serve? What is the meaning and purpose of our earthly life? To whom belongs glory and honor? Is it to the man who leaves behind his wife and children to care for themselves while he carries out the orders of a non Christian man in combat when he doesn't fully understand the true motives?

I don't know. I do not pretend to have the answers. But I am not afraid to ask the hard questions. And I am tired of being a robot that repeats things that everyone else repeats simply because it was drilled into me as a child. We have to think for ourselves with Holy Scripture and our Pastors as our guide. Because, my brothers and sisters in Christ, the darkness truly is deepening. Whom do we serve? To whom belongs the glory?

Grace in parenting

This is a post that has probably been working itself out in my heart since...well, since my second son was born. I've come close to being able to put it into words before but have always failed. I'm not sure I'll be able to do it here tonight but I'm going to try, selfishly, more for my own benefit as I try to hash this out.

I want to spare details of why this came about mainly because it would take several posts in and of itself and it's too private but our second child had IMMENSE health struggles and challenges from the very beginning of his life. In fact, he had a rare cord abnormality that should have killed both of us during his pregnancy. The entire first 4 1/2 years of his life were a very hard blur. My third son came when my second was only 20 months old and in the middle of his terrible struggles which greatly impacted my ability to nurture him.

So fast forward to my second son being 6 and my third being 4 and everyone is healthy now. The health problems have been overcome...but the emotional scars of those awful and helpless years are still there...for me and the kids.

It causes me to worry, to stress, to overcompensate, to fear for my kids' salvation, for their happiness, and for our ability to be a strong and bonded family.

But...

photo credit

And there we have it. Grace. Peace. Healing. Forgiveness. Redemption. It is finished. Death is swallowed up by death. And Christ is Risen!

It is not just for us, it is for our children. And if we believe what we say about Baptism, namely, that in it the Holy Spirit indwells our children, grants them faith and the forgiveness of sins, then shall we let the devil taunt and mock us with sin, sickness, brokenness? 

No, we say, "yes devil, what of it? We are sick, broken, see death, but Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again!" 

So we, as parents, in the tiring and awfulness of a broken world, hold our children close and rejoice in complete forgiveness, grace, mercy, and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, who loves our children and ourselves far more than we do. Will not He who died for us and in fact redeemed you through all your sins and falterings, will He not indeed keep your children and defend them against the devil, the world, and their sinful flesh and thus work out His good and gracious will in your children? 

Lord grant me faith in your love, perseverance in the good fight, wisdom in all I do as wife and mother, and grace for each and every moment. 

Come soon, Lord Jesus!

Faith

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.

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.

Here I Stand, I Can Do No Other.

Note: There is an image of our 12 week little one further down in this post if you are sensitive to such imagery. 

Thursday I had my apt with my OB. If you know me well you know how hard that day was for me. This appointment signaled a last resort. The last leaf left unturned. I don't easily put my care into the hands of another. I am VERY possessive of me. But we are desperate to do everything humanly possible to "help and support our neighbor in every physical need". At first all of these tests were extreme and a burden too great to bear but now it was time. 

photo credit: Me. :)

Before I go any further I would like to share THIS and THIS. 

Friends, family, and strangers. I know sin is always present. And where there is sin, there is death. Period. But 55 MILLION lives viciously murdered from their mother's wombs is a WHOLE. NEW. LOW. 

I am angry. I AM FURIOUS. And this anger has me planted stubbornly in place. 

Feb. 6, 2013:

The jelly felt warm on my tummy. This surprised me. It’s normally so cold. I was about to tell the ultrasound tech this but she was beginning to spread the jelly with the wand and I held my breath. With a simple move she was turned and the screen was coming to life. I was so thankful that she did not turn the screen away from me to start like they normally do. I was already grieving and she knew it...there was nothing that needed to be kept from me. My breath caught in my throat as the most delicate sweet little hand caught my eye. It was reaching up to heaven. In my mind I reached down and held her sweet hand. My thumb rubbed the inside of her palm. I heard the ultrasound tech begin by exclaiming how perfect my baby was, after all her size was right on, and I waited still admiring my baby’s beautiful hand for her to realize what I already knew. No 12 week baby has a hand floating in the water above her head. The u.t. stopped mid sentence. She zoomed in on my baby’s chest. Our eyes met. I smiled weakly at her. “There’s no heartbeat is there?” I turned my eyes back to my baby as her eyes filled with tears. “I don’t understand, this baby is so big, I thought...” I saw my baby’s face for the first time. That sweet nose, turned up just the slightest bit. “Sweet baby. My sweet baby. You’re so beautiful.” I reached for the screen and gently touched her. Her little hand was still reaching up to me. “My precious baby.”

I looked at the u.t. “I’m sorry, I’m OK.” She looked at me. “Sweetheart, this baby just died...maybe two days ago. It just doesn’t make sense.” We both looked back to the baby. Time stood still. It was just me and my baby. I don’t remember the screen going dark. I asked her if I could call my husband and she left. My husband’s voice filled my phone, “Hey” I said. “Our baby is gone. Our baby is dead.” I was sobbing. His voice was broken. He was making his way into the hospital. We went back and forth, he tried to offer words of comfort while we both shattered to pieces. I instructed him how to find me and we hung up.

 I began by sending out a text to all my family and friends. “We just found out that our baby has gone home to be with Jesus. The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.” Within seconds my phone was beeping responses and ringing. I spoke to my sister. As I hung up the door opened and the u.t. moved aside for my husband to enter. She left us. I was on my feet and his arms took me in. My weeping made no sound but turned my soul inside out. His arms were strong but weak. It was as if our one flesh was melting together into a pool of wax. Finally he asked if he could pray. I don’t remember the words he prayed. We prayed tears. We prayed brokenness. We cried for sin and its effects. Our one flesh had met face to face the wages of sin, but it’s toll was on our dear child. The u.t came back in the room. She looked at us hugging, cleared her throat and said, “I, um, need to take more pictures.” I thought, “No you don’t , you took 500!” Then her eyes met mine and I silently thanked her. She was trying to give us a gift, a chance to see our baby together and my husband’s first chance. I climbed back on the table and my husband took my hand. I could feel his prayer in his increasing grip on my hand even though his lips weren’t moving. Raise our baby Lord. I let him pray but blocked it from my hearing. Our baby was gone. I looked on the screen to where I would see her floating hand and it met my eyes. “Sweet baby.” I held her hand. We were three silent observers to the tiniest miracle of God. Time stood still as we all sat in awe. 

For the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. 19 For it is written,

“I will destroy the wisdom of the wise,

and the discernment of the discerning I will thwart.”

20 Where is the one who is wise? Where is the scribe? Where is the debater of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world?21 For since, in the wisdom of God, the world did not know God through wisdom, it pleased God through the folly of what we preach to save those who believe. 22 For Jews demand signs and Greeks seek wisdom, 23 but we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles, 24 but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. 25 For the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men.

26 For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. 27 But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; 28 God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, 29 so that no human being might boast in the presence of God. 30 And because of him you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption, 31 so that, as it is written, “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.”

Everything about what my husband and I are going through appears as absolute foolishness. Why subject yourself to loss, death, and affliction of your own health over and over? But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God. You look at me and you don't understand the fuss. And fine, crazy lady, if you want to keep bringing this on yourself, at least keep it quiet or at least figure out how to not grieve over it.

But as long as the Lord gives, I will receive. As long as my babies fall to their death so young due to sin, I will weep. I will fast. I will pray. I will be broken. Because in my brokenness I make confession of faith, of life, and of truth. God is truth. And He creates, He speaks, and darkness gets broke and there is life where there was none. And every day it will make me angrier towards sin and murder and idolatry. Read the articles above and you will understand my fury.

My babies, these children who do not know that I already have 4 earthly children, are just as fearfully and wonderfully made in the image of God as our earthly children and are just as important as if they were my first. And while people rave and weep happy tears over families murdering innocent lives, they can't believe it when a woman will willingly endure month after month of miscarriage seemingly to her own detriment.

Crosses are not chosen. They are given. I have prayed, I have fasted, I have wept until I've thrown up. I have soaked my bed with tears and clung to the Word of God with the only breath I had left. After all, crosses often have the effect of making your idols crash down and shatter all around you, which is always painful to the point of near despair. And still He has not taken this cup from me. And just when I start to feel burdened to the point of surrender to my flesh where I can choose to put an end to increasing my grief and choose instead to just rest, I see another article like the two first posted and my resolve comes back ten fold.

God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong. And thanks be to God alone, so have my husband and I. 

Right now we are wading through the choices of tests that have been ordered for two weeks from now, assuming pregnancy does not occur. In the mean time we are going to be using a high dose of progesterone from ovulation on to support my body and any potential lives. If pregnancy does not occur I will discontinue the progesterone until I ovulate again. The doctor wants us to do all sorts of tests on me but also on my husband's and my genetics. We are praying and talking to decide which of these, if any, we will be able to do. But in the mean time, there is plenty of joy around here too. Plenty of joy, plenty of laughter, and plenty of carefree moments of pure bliss. 

Christ has died. Christ is Risen. Christ will come again.