The other night I was killing time, waiting until I could leave to pick my son up from Christmas Carol practice. All I wanted to do was go to bed. I'd worked on a project for 12 hours that day, which is more hours than I usually devote to money-paying work in one day, and I was going to have to do the same thing the following two days to get the job done. But there were 30 minutes until I could leave for pick-up duty, so I was sitting on the couch watching an episode of Planet Earth with my oldest. It was the episode about caves, which I'd never seen because I'm terrified of bats and caves seem kind of repulsive to me.
They were talking about a cave in New Mexico, the Lechiguilla Cave, which is full of the most astounding crystals. I'd never seen anything like it. The interesting thing they said (if I heard them right in my sleepy stupor) is that the cave was carved out by sulphuric acid....and that's what makes the crystals so stunning and unusual.
It got me thinking. Sometimes, or most of the time, I am truly amazed by God. The beauty that he hides away in the dark places. The incredible creatures that lurk in the ocean depths. The crystals hidden in that cave, unseen for centuries. He does such beautiful things in the places that seem dark and frightening -- the places most people wouldn't want to or think to visit.
The Lechiguilla got me thinking about the darkest places in our hearts and lives, and the fact that sometimes the things that happen to us or the things we do to others are like acid eating away at us. The acid running like a river through us may be unseen by others, but we know it's there. We feel it wearing us away; for some of us, it flows year after year. We see no reason for the haunting pain; we want no part of it. Or perhaps we want to see some quantifiable and redemptive reason for it long before one can ever be seen.
But seeing those crystals made me feel at peace (at least temporarily) with the idea that we may never see quantifiable reasons for our pain... but that God can use its acid to carve astounding beauty within us. We are the temple of the Holy Spirit, and if he wants to make use of the acid in our lives to make a temple of jagged and lovely crystals so that he can dwell in beauty -- a beauty that only he can truly see -- then who are we to argue?
Friday, December 4, 2009
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
A Book Recommendation
I just finished a great book -- Song Yet Sung by James McBride. Since I was whining about books a few months ago, I thought it would be nice if I actually passed a recommendation along. I won't tell you anything about it -- mainly because I should be working, not blogging -- but I will tell you that about thirty or forty pages into it, I nearly gave up on it. It seemed a little...weird. Some strange characters speaking in a strange code (in the story, the code is used by slaves to communicate vital information). But it was worth hanging in there. Check it out if you're looking for something great to read. The fact that the story is set on Maryland's Eastern Shore made it all the more interesting.
Next up for me: The Heretic's Daughter, a story told from the perspective of a ten-year-old girl whose mother is tried as a witch in the Salem witch trials. If it's great, I'll let you know.
Next up for me: The Heretic's Daughter, a story told from the perspective of a ten-year-old girl whose mother is tried as a witch in the Salem witch trials. If it's great, I'll let you know.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Why?
Yesterday I talked to my forever best friend and she told me some terrible news. A good friend of hers, age 44 and pregnant as a result of their third (and final) round of IVF (they're out of money), had recently learned that their baby had trisomy 18 and aborted it. Her. A baby girl.
This is just heartbreaking to me. For years this woman has wanted nothing more than to get married and have a child. She got married just a few years ago, and they have been trying ever since for a baby. This woman has had a difficult life. Both of her parents have been dead for years. Her siblings are morons and she has no emotional connection with them. She had a close relationship with her mom before she died and desperately wants to be a mom herself... Her career has been in a tailspin for years because the industry she works in has undergone much change and she doesn't bring home the salary she used to. Her husband has some difficult health issues... And now their dream of building a family is dashed, ended in loss and grief.
Last week my husband and I sat in the office with the genetic counselor and listened to all her doom and gloom. I don't recommend getting pregnant at my age. The statistics are nothing short of alarming -- 1 in 35 pregnancies will have chromosomal abnormalities. We were told that the ultrasound we were about to get would identify 99 out of 100 cases of trisomy 13 and 18. Those babies rarely live more than a year. And it would identify about 70 out of 100 cases of down's syndrome. We watched the ultrasound intently. Counted limbs, fingers, and toes. Held our breath as we watched the four chambers of the heart contract and expand -- a mesmerizing sight.
Despite the terrible odds, the doctor came in after the ultrasound and said our baby looked so good that the likelihood of problems had dropped dramatically -- to about a 1 percent chance. As I said in a previous post, God doesn't need the odds. He likes to battle tens of thousands with an army of 300.
And so this baby we have not asked for or looked for appears to be the most beautiful and healthy baby boy...and I am humbled. Why me? Who are we to receive this gift? We already have the three most wonderful boys on this earth (no offense intended to my readers' sons), and now we are being given what so many people so desperately long for and pray for.
There are many ways to be reminded that we are not God. This is one way that God has reminded me of that essential truth. I don't create life, and I don't get to set myself up as God's judge and insist that someone else really needed a baby more than we do. I confess I did just that a few months ago when i found out I was pregnant. Honestly, I am sometimes astounded by the things God can forgive.
This is just heartbreaking to me. For years this woman has wanted nothing more than to get married and have a child. She got married just a few years ago, and they have been trying ever since for a baby. This woman has had a difficult life. Both of her parents have been dead for years. Her siblings are morons and she has no emotional connection with them. She had a close relationship with her mom before she died and desperately wants to be a mom herself... Her career has been in a tailspin for years because the industry she works in has undergone much change and she doesn't bring home the salary she used to. Her husband has some difficult health issues... And now their dream of building a family is dashed, ended in loss and grief.
Last week my husband and I sat in the office with the genetic counselor and listened to all her doom and gloom. I don't recommend getting pregnant at my age. The statistics are nothing short of alarming -- 1 in 35 pregnancies will have chromosomal abnormalities. We were told that the ultrasound we were about to get would identify 99 out of 100 cases of trisomy 13 and 18. Those babies rarely live more than a year. And it would identify about 70 out of 100 cases of down's syndrome. We watched the ultrasound intently. Counted limbs, fingers, and toes. Held our breath as we watched the four chambers of the heart contract and expand -- a mesmerizing sight.
Despite the terrible odds, the doctor came in after the ultrasound and said our baby looked so good that the likelihood of problems had dropped dramatically -- to about a 1 percent chance. As I said in a previous post, God doesn't need the odds. He likes to battle tens of thousands with an army of 300.
And so this baby we have not asked for or looked for appears to be the most beautiful and healthy baby boy...and I am humbled. Why me? Who are we to receive this gift? We already have the three most wonderful boys on this earth (no offense intended to my readers' sons), and now we are being given what so many people so desperately long for and pray for.
There are many ways to be reminded that we are not God. This is one way that God has reminded me of that essential truth. I don't create life, and I don't get to set myself up as God's judge and insist that someone else really needed a baby more than we do. I confess I did just that a few months ago when i found out I was pregnant. Honestly, I am sometimes astounded by the things God can forgive.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
A boy
I guess two months is kind of a long break to take from blogging. Oh well. Sometimes words just don't come.
This week we found out we're expecting a baby boy. We've never found out by ultrasound what we're expecting. Always waited for the surprise. But this time we already had the surprise, so we decided we needed to know.
Most people were sure this baby was a girl. I wasn't sure, but I seriously thought it might be...and, quite honestly, that is what I was hope, hope, hoping for. But it's a little dude, and now that I know, I am so thrilled. A boy is just right...the perfect fit for our family of boys...and I now feel the most excitement that I've felt so far about this pregnancy. Who is this little fellow?
And let's be honest, little boys always adore their mothers...and even during adolescence things are more smooth between mothers and sons than they generally are between mothers and daughters.
Best of all, he appears to be perfectly healthy. I am just so grateful.
And as my husband said, well, now that we know...we can start fighting over names! Good times.
This week we found out we're expecting a baby boy. We've never found out by ultrasound what we're expecting. Always waited for the surprise. But this time we already had the surprise, so we decided we needed to know.
Most people were sure this baby was a girl. I wasn't sure, but I seriously thought it might be...and, quite honestly, that is what I was hope, hope, hoping for. But it's a little dude, and now that I know, I am so thrilled. A boy is just right...the perfect fit for our family of boys...and I now feel the most excitement that I've felt so far about this pregnancy. Who is this little fellow?
And let's be honest, little boys always adore their mothers...and even during adolescence things are more smooth between mothers and sons than they generally are between mothers and daughters.
Best of all, he appears to be perfectly healthy. I am just so grateful.
And as my husband said, well, now that we know...we can start fighting over names! Good times.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Books, Books, Books
This is a cry for help. I need a book to read. A good book. Better yet, I need a list of good books to read. After devouring The Help, I read another good one — Year of Wonders: A Novel of the Plague. But since then I've been stuck. I take books out of the library, start them, and toss them aside. As a result, I am watching obscene amounts of TV. Well, not just because of that. I don't usually watch much TV (when would that happen?), but I have been feeling so sick and so exhausted that I've been going to bed crazy early most nights, and I've even gotten into bed many times during the day. Honestly, I don't recognize myself anymore. I'm just waiting to feel better so I can hopefully return to my normal self.
In the meantime, I need help... because I'm going to shoot myself if I watch another episode of anything on Bravo! — and I like Bravo! But not in the doses I've been getting of it.
So please, please...give me some book titles (fiction please) so I can lose myself in a good book.
***
Last night, I dreamed — again — that we are having a boy. I don't put much stock in it because my dreams have been completely crazy for the past month, nothing like my usual dreams. Nevertheless, I feel better about the idea of a boy this morning. Up to this point, I've only been able to think of this baby as a girl. We talk about the baby as if it's a girl, and my husband calls the baby Pebbles (from the flintstones). He actually has a cut-out of Pebbles (from a box of Fruity Pebbles of course!) taped to his computer — though he's been planning on giving that to a friend who has a baby who looks like Pebbles. Still, we're pretty committed to the girl idea. But I am relieved that my thinking is different this morning — that I can entertain the idea of a boy and feel okay about it. I think it helped to learn last night that my favorite three-year-old boy has been praying "for Nina to have a baby that is healfy and not sick." I love that kid.
In the meantime, I need help... because I'm going to shoot myself if I watch another episode of anything on Bravo! — and I like Bravo! But not in the doses I've been getting of it.
So please, please...give me some book titles (fiction please) so I can lose myself in a good book.
***
Last night, I dreamed — again — that we are having a boy. I don't put much stock in it because my dreams have been completely crazy for the past month, nothing like my usual dreams. Nevertheless, I feel better about the idea of a boy this morning. Up to this point, I've only been able to think of this baby as a girl. We talk about the baby as if it's a girl, and my husband calls the baby Pebbles (from the flintstones). He actually has a cut-out of Pebbles (from a box of Fruity Pebbles of course!) taped to his computer — though he's been planning on giving that to a friend who has a baby who looks like Pebbles. Still, we're pretty committed to the girl idea. But I am relieved that my thinking is different this morning — that I can entertain the idea of a boy and feel okay about it. I think it helped to learn last night that my favorite three-year-old boy has been praying "for Nina to have a baby that is healfy and not sick." I love that kid.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
The Lecture
Unfortunately for my kids, my husband and I are both good at the lecture. I'm not certain that this is the best parenting technique... I'm pretty sure they may zone out after a while. But sometimes, you just need to set some people (your kids, or at least one of them) straight. That's what happened here this morning.
The conversation started innocently enough, as they so often do. I was explaining to the two younger boys that I was hoping we could build an office for their dad out in our garage, which is a huge detached garage and fitting for such a thing. Of course, there's the small (or not so small) matter of money... but a girl can dream and pray, right? I mean, otherwise, there is just nowhere for this kid to go. But Son2, who has been making a habit of complaining lately, was highly annoyed to realize that this meant his little brother or sister would immediately have their own room. Son2 has never had his own room, and he wants one, and he lets us know it from time to time. "It's unfair!" he proclaimed.
And so the lecture began. (In my defense, let me say that I probably wouldn't have launched into a lecture if there hadn't been a number of complaints already this week, displaying a profound lack of gratitude on his part.) It was a lecture about financial reality and about poverty, and the truth of how most of the world lives. Whole families share rooms. I explained that he rarely sees this reality, that what he sees is the people who have more than we do, who go to Disneyworld every year, or at least go once. I even explained that many fortunate people don't actually have to pay thousands and thousands of dollars each year for health insurance and doctor visits and medicine. But we do, and at least we can go to the doctor and get medicine, even if it doesn't always stop those migraines from coming. At least we can keep working on it. Some kids can't even go to the doctor, can't afford their medicine. I couldn't stop. Well...that's not true. I could, and I did, eventually. But before I did, I told him that maybe this fall, as part of homeschooling, we would do a study about poverty (that was my husband's idea). We'd learn about how many of the people in our country have to live, how people in this world suffer. And then we'll just see what's fair.
The conversation started innocently enough, as they so often do. I was explaining to the two younger boys that I was hoping we could build an office for their dad out in our garage, which is a huge detached garage and fitting for such a thing. Of course, there's the small (or not so small) matter of money... but a girl can dream and pray, right? I mean, otherwise, there is just nowhere for this kid to go. But Son2, who has been making a habit of complaining lately, was highly annoyed to realize that this meant his little brother or sister would immediately have their own room. Son2 has never had his own room, and he wants one, and he lets us know it from time to time. "It's unfair!" he proclaimed.
And so the lecture began. (In my defense, let me say that I probably wouldn't have launched into a lecture if there hadn't been a number of complaints already this week, displaying a profound lack of gratitude on his part.) It was a lecture about financial reality and about poverty, and the truth of how most of the world lives. Whole families share rooms. I explained that he rarely sees this reality, that what he sees is the people who have more than we do, who go to Disneyworld every year, or at least go once. I even explained that many fortunate people don't actually have to pay thousands and thousands of dollars each year for health insurance and doctor visits and medicine. But we do, and at least we can go to the doctor and get medicine, even if it doesn't always stop those migraines from coming. At least we can keep working on it. Some kids can't even go to the doctor, can't afford their medicine. I couldn't stop. Well...that's not true. I could, and I did, eventually. But before I did, I told him that maybe this fall, as part of homeschooling, we would do a study about poverty (that was my husband's idea). We'd learn about how many of the people in our country have to live, how people in this world suffer. And then we'll just see what's fair.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Making Room
Perhaps not surprisingly, one of the first scriptures that I felt like God told me after I found out I was pregnant is this one from Isaiah 54:
2 "Enlarge the place of your tent,
stretch your tent curtains wide,
do not hold back;
lengthen your cords,
strengthen your stakes.
3 For you will spread out to the right and to the left;
your descendants will dispossess nations
and settle in their desolate cities."
I knew God was telling me that I'd have to make room for this baby, make room for his plan. I heard him, but nothing in me was ready to grasp that yet. But I read Isaiah 54 again last week, and it got me thinking.
I think that "making room" is one of the biggest things we must learn and do if we're trying to follow Jesus. God has always made room in his heart for us, and now Jesus is in heaven, making room for us. God tells us to care for the widow, the orphan, and the alien...but that does not come naturally to many of us. We have to ask God to help us make room in our hearts for them, so we can be moved to action. Many years ago, we knew a teenage girl who needed a home. My husband said we had to make room for her, but I didn't want to. Such things come naturally to him, but not me. But we did make room, and she is like a daughter to us still, though she only lived with us for a year. Our sons consider her to be a sister, though two of them were not yet even born when she lived with us. By the grace of God, and despite my unwilling heart, amazing things can happen when you make room.
The Jewish people, in the time after Jesus' death, had to make room for the gentile converts. The gentiles would be grafted in to Israel, but not all of them wanted to make room. In fact, you could say that many Jews could not make room for the Messiah... Why? Because he was not who they were expecting.
We were not expecting this baby. In my mind, I can now grasp this idea of making room. I can see God being good to us and blessing us with a gift we were not looking for. My heart is still trying to catch up, though. It will. We will. We will make room and who knows who this person will turn out to be.
I was a surprise baby. My brothers are ten and twelve years older than me, and my mother knew the heartache that I will now know. Her mother knew my brothers, but she died years before I was born. I knew that always made her sad, but I didn't really understand that when I was a kid. My mom died eight years ago today, and I cannot imagine having a baby she will not know.
2 "Enlarge the place of your tent,
stretch your tent curtains wide,
do not hold back;
lengthen your cords,
strengthen your stakes.
3 For you will spread out to the right and to the left;
your descendants will dispossess nations
and settle in their desolate cities."
I knew God was telling me that I'd have to make room for this baby, make room for his plan. I heard him, but nothing in me was ready to grasp that yet. But I read Isaiah 54 again last week, and it got me thinking.
I think that "making room" is one of the biggest things we must learn and do if we're trying to follow Jesus. God has always made room in his heart for us, and now Jesus is in heaven, making room for us. God tells us to care for the widow, the orphan, and the alien...but that does not come naturally to many of us. We have to ask God to help us make room in our hearts for them, so we can be moved to action. Many years ago, we knew a teenage girl who needed a home. My husband said we had to make room for her, but I didn't want to. Such things come naturally to him, but not me. But we did make room, and she is like a daughter to us still, though she only lived with us for a year. Our sons consider her to be a sister, though two of them were not yet even born when she lived with us. By the grace of God, and despite my unwilling heart, amazing things can happen when you make room.
The Jewish people, in the time after Jesus' death, had to make room for the gentile converts. The gentiles would be grafted in to Israel, but not all of them wanted to make room. In fact, you could say that many Jews could not make room for the Messiah... Why? Because he was not who they were expecting.
We were not expecting this baby. In my mind, I can now grasp this idea of making room. I can see God being good to us and blessing us with a gift we were not looking for. My heart is still trying to catch up, though. It will. We will. We will make room and who knows who this person will turn out to be.
I was a surprise baby. My brothers are ten and twelve years older than me, and my mother knew the heartache that I will now know. Her mother knew my brothers, but she died years before I was born. I knew that always made her sad, but I didn't really understand that when I was a kid. My mom died eight years ago today, and I cannot imagine having a baby she will not know.
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