Prayer request

In the midst of the waiting for our Abigail (no news currently on that front ~ just more time to learn to trust in God and His provision and plan), God has been at work in another direction.  There are a disproportionate number of women at our church who have experienced the loss of at least one child at some stage of pregnancy, infancy, or beyond.  Recently, God has been moving the hearts of several of us in the same direction to begin a new ministry reaching out to others in our community who have walked this painful road, sharing the hope and comfort that we have found in Christ.  As this new ministry is in its formative stages, I'd like to ask for your prayers for the ministry itself, for the women God will be bringing to be a part of it, and for me personally, what my role in it is supposed to be. 

And if this hits close to home for you personally in some way . . . .. I am so sorry that you have had to walk through this valley.  Please know that you're not alone, and consider joining us on October 15 for our first meeting.

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.      2 Corinthians 1:3-4

Joyfully Submit

Sometimes I have to remind myself that it isn't just me on this journey, but our whole family.

This week it was my husband's turn.  He wrote:

At church on Sunday, I felt the words "Joyfully Submit" calling out to me. (This phrase was not used during service, btw.) Today we're dealing with an extended family emergency. While driving home I was struck again by the words "Joyfully Submit." OK, I say pulling up to the stoplight, I need to turn the worry about this over to God. ...Five seconds later, a semi passes with a cross lit up on the front and the words "God's Way" on its door. -Consider that "Message Received!"

Thank you, Lord Jesus, for the little reminders that this is Your plan.

The new "It's Everywhere!" verse

He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you?
To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.
Micah 6:8

This is the new verse that is showing up everywhere lately.  In books I'm reading, blog posts, letters in the mail.  So now comes the challenge:  What am I supposed to do different?  Which part of this verse is God asking me to dwell on and use to make changes in my life?

The Card: Where God Stretched Out His Hand, Part 3

(Read Part 1, Part 2)

Three miscarriages.  Feeling utterly broken.  Uncertain if we'd ever have children.

A fortune cookie that week held the saying, "You'll find hope from an unexpected source."  Part of my tossed it aside cynically, while another part clung to the possibility that it could be true.  Anything to get through the pain that I was feeling as I put on the mask each day that everything was alright.

That long week before Christmas break was finally ending, and our class had begun the Christmas party.  Just a few more hours to get through, then I could go home and collapse in my misery.  One of my students came up and handed me a Christmas card.  I thanked her, and set it aside to open later.  After the students were busy eating their treats, I picked up the envelope.

What I found when I pulled the card out nearly knocked me to the floor.   Instead of the generic holiday card that I was expecting, it was a Christian sympathy card that read, "To Comfort You in Your Sorrow" and quoted Psalm 34:18 on the front.

The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart.
Psalm 34:18

Inside, the words "May you find courage to face the days ahead as you lean on God's everlasting arms" were printed.  In the sprawling print of a 4th grader, it was signed with a Merry Christmas and her name.

I hadn't told any of the teachers at school or my students that I was expecting.  My mask had been carefully held in place that week so as not to worry my students.  No one there knew!

As I stood there holding the card with shaking hands, I realized that there was only one explanation ~ somehow God himself had steered that little girl's hand to select this card that looked nothing like a holiday greeting.

That meant that not only did HE know me, but that HE knew what I was going through.  The creator of the universe knew my pain and my hurt at that moment.

For the first time in my life, I knew without a doubt that not only was God real, but that He loved me.  Despite everything that I had done, all the wrong paths and time spent neglecting Him, all the years spent searching for fulfillment from the world ~ God loved me!

And while the pain and the heartbreak for our baby was still fresh and sharp, on that afternoon something new began to grow inside my  heart.  Joy!  Hope!  Gratitude!  I carried the card around for the rest of the afternoon like gold, showing it to any adult in sight, explaining just what God had done for me.

That day was the beginning of a new life, though I didn't realize that at the time.  Over that Christmas break, my relationship with God became real, and I committed my life to Jesus Christ.  I found a church home again after more than a decade, and was baptized as a sign of this new found realization of just how much I needed Him as my savior and Lord.

All because of the obedience of a young girl, who let God steer her hand to work a small miracle in the life of her teacher.

The Card: Where God Stretched Out His Hand, part 2

(Read Part 1)

After two miscarriages, we were finally pregnant again.  With a holiday approaching, we were cautious .  .  . holidays had not been good for the other pregnancies.  My journal from that time reads, "We're pregnant again - at least for the moment."  But Thanksgiving came and went, and we optimistically celebrated with some close friends.  We began planning how we would surprise our families with the news at Christmas.

At first things seemed to be going well.  Then we hit a roller coaster fortnight filled with testing of blood levels and awaiting an ultrasound.  Numbers kept rising slowly and would bring optimism, but spotting continued too, and would fill me with fear.  My emotions bounced back and forth where one moment I would be convinced our baby was already gone, and the next would be filled with desperate hope.  In that desperation, I sent out frantic pleas to God one minute and tried Oprah-style "bathe yourself in positive thinking" the next.

Then the day came in mid-December that we received the final verdict.  The ultrasound showed that this baby didn't make it either.

I felt as if my world had fallen apart.  Three?  Three babies gone?  I was completely broken.  Was it my fault somehow?  Was I that bad a person to deserve this?  Was I being punished?   Didn't God care?  Why did it seem that every unwed teenager I saw had a rounded belly full of life, while mine was a tomb?  Would we ever have children? My days at school were lived on auto-pilot with a carefully pasted on mask that everything was fine.  Since no one had known our short-lived joy, how could they understand our pain?  My evenings were either spent curled up sobbing for my babies and our future, or trying desperately to convince myself and my husband that I was ok.

And then, God stretched out His hand . . .

(to be continued)

The Card : Where God Stretched Out His Hand pt. 1

Eight years ago I was living in Arizona, married to another teacher.  At first, the kids in our classrooms were enough, but after a few years we felt drawn to starting our own family.  In typical planner form,  I drafted out a careful schedule for the venture that would match maternity leave to the school year calendar for the most time off over summer break.  Years of preventing pregnancy had instilled the mindset that all we would need to do to have a baby is stop preventing it, and when the schedule said it was time,  our journey to parenthood would begin.

Or so we thought.  The time on that schedule came and went with no signs of a baby on the way. I checked out every pregnancy book available at the local library and spent every non-work moment preparing.   A few months later, we had a positive pregnancy test and were elated.  I drove across town to a baby shower after seeing that little line with an awareness that I was, for the first time, responsible for another life.  A little girl, I thought.    A week later, on Veteran's Day, that pregnancy ended.   We were sad, and filled with questions:  Were we parents?  Was it really a baby?  Did it have a soul? We rationalized that we could try again and that the next time would be successful.

At this point, God was not a conscious part of our lives.  While I had been raised in church, my time in college and as a young adult had been lived apart from God, and while I would have still identified myself as Christian (because I wasn't actively anything else), there was no outward evidence of this.  My husband was not Christian, and had almost no exposure to any religion outside of what appeared in the media and common culture.  I sent up a few frantic prayers during this first miscarriage, but then ignored God again when it was done.

Several more months passed, and again, another positive test.  This time it was a darker line, and we were optimistic that this would be the one.  By this point I was occasionally reading my Bible again, and my journal contains some awkward prayers Yet once again, the pregnancy ended, on St. Patrick's Day.  Why?  And twice?  We knew almost no one who had experienced a miscarriage, much less more than one.  Was God punishing me? Surely the third time would be the charm. 

Many long months passed.  Impatience had become a constant companion.   By that point, the carefully constructed schedule had been thrown out the window. We would be happy with a baby at ANY time.   We became good friends with a couple who had never been able to have children and were content with life, and began to wonder if that would be us in a few years.

Just when we'd begun to give up hope, I became pregnant again, right before Thanksgiving.


(to be continued)

A work in progress

We spent much of late July painting out schoolroom/playroom.  This wouldn't have been a long task or a hard task . . . except for the wallpaper that was covering several of the walls.  Scraping it off gave me lots of time to think.

The wallpaper and border in this room was put up by the previous owners, and while it had served its purpose in beautifying the room then, it was now dated.  Do you ever realize that there is something in your life that you originally thought was good, but that over time you've moved beyond it and are ready for the better?  As I scraped at the clinging bits of wall paper, I couldn't help but think about all those things that seemed like such good ideas at the time, but that later ended up having more control over me than was beneficial.  And when God calls them to your attention, you have to begin the long and messy task of letting Him scrape them away.

How often do I expect the changes in my life to be instant?  To go straight from the spiritual before to after pictures?   But big change usually doesn't work that way.  God starts to peel off our layers, exposing the glue of the false beliefs or the lies.  He soaks us in His truth, which loosens the guck that has been clinging to us.  And then little by little it is scraped off.  Sometimes a huge section will peel off at once, other times a tiny section seems to defy ever coming loose.  And in the process it gets messy.  Little by little though, the change takes place.

And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.  Philippians 1:6