Telling Mikayla About the Ultrasound

We have our first ultrasound scheduled for Monday, and I got the reminder call this morning at breakfast. As I hung up, Mikayla naturally asked who I was talking to.

So I told her, "On Monday, we are all going to the doctor's office, and he will take a picture-"

And here I suddenly became quite choked with sentiment, as I found myself talking to my firstborn about my nextborn.

"-of our new baby!"

She has no idea what this means yet. No sense of how special it will be to see that little black and white blob on the screen, this tiny life inside Mommy's belly. Or even that it is a life. I don't know if she'll ever remember getting this first glimpse of her little sibling. I know Isaac won't. But it sure was emotional for me to speak of it to my children.

As I squeezed the words out past the lump of emotion in my throat, Mikayla stared at me and promptly choked on her apple. I'm sure it was because she, too, felt overwhelmed at the unexpected swell of excitement and tenderness in her heart. (Don't worry, she was fine.)

Isaac, for his part, didn't miss a beat mashing his banana into his mouth. He'll figure it out eventually, in a few months when there's no room for him on my lap.

Mama was Hangry

This evening, I stopped for dinner on my way home for dinner. You read that correctly. I justified the decision because the minivan desperately needed gasoline, and my sister in law was texting me about pie recipes for Thanksgiving. Obviously, the Sheetz MTO practically ordered itself.

And yes, I still ate dinner when I got home.

But this isn't about my gluttony (entirely). It's about the random thoughts I found going through my head, and my inexplicable desire to share them with a wider audience. Because if I thought my thoughts were hilarious, surely you will...right?

#1, on my way out the door at Sheetz, already starting to unwrap my MTO: "Don't judge me, I'm pregnant. My pants aren't even buttoned right now."

No idea what the state of my buttons had to do with anything, but there you go.

#2, putzing along in the slow right lane on the highway: "Wow, this whole right lane must be people eating their Sheetz MTO's on their way home."

Nothing like a little projection to assuage the guilt of impulse food. Yes, everybody else must be as self-indulgent and uncontrolled as me.

#3, approaching my exit: "I bet I'll have this finished in time to stop at the next Sheetz for something else."

Yes, yes I did have it finished in plenty of time. And it was a long ninety seconds at that red light as I willed myself not to make the left toward the Sheetz.

#4, not a one-time thought but characteristic of my entire eleven minutes from Sheetz to home: "That was the best $3.61 I have ever spent."

Imagine my delight when I got home to Joel already heating leftovers. Chicken and stuffing, and glazed carrots were the perfect follow-up to my six-inch on Italian herb, with every topping except the jalapenos, added American cheese (did you know they charge $0.40 to add cheese to an Italian sub? They know where to get you. It's like charging for grocery bags...you're obviously not NOT going to use them so of course you'd have to pay, unless you brought your own, and it just seems awkward to bring my own cheese into Sheetz. But I digress...), and their delicious fire-roasted tomato sauce.

Hopefully that'll hold me over until the 8:30 second-dinner hunger pangs strike. I must be carrying a girl, seriously.

(The hangry reference in the title comes from here....HT to Christina, this describes me perfectly, like, every day!)

Oh, the Deep, Deep Love of Jesus

I'm feeling very pregnant today, and discouraged about how pregnant I feel. That fine line between nausea and hunger, dizzy when I stand up, and so tired I could nod off mid-sent...zzzzzzz....

Sorry.

Bible study is tonight at our house, and it's a wreck at the moment. I worked yesterday and had a meeting this morning so nothing's been very well looked-after. While it's heartening to know that neither dadda nor the nanny can replace me in running our home, it's also slightly overwhelming to see what's left to do. Halloween costumes lie unfinished, waiting to be sewn together. Pots and pans line my kitchen counter, which is unfit for making dinner in a few hours, let alone hosting company and baking the pumpkin roll that I had hoped to offer them. Shoot, even my chocolate pudding is next to me unfinished. My stomach can't even follow through on that one small thing.

Honestly, I could cry. I blame a combination of hormones and circumstances. My feeling, my inner monologue is something like this: There is so much to do, so much I am failing at today, and I am not enough for it all. Wow, putting that into words actually bid tears into my eyes.

Can you relate? Are you a momma, or any hardworking person whose shortcomings sometimes (regularly?) leap up before your eyes, taunting you into giving up on your day, your dreams, yourself?

I am not enough. That is the awful, sweet, blessed truth. That same knowledge both undoes and saves me. "Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, and grace my fears relieved." The same grace that shows my failings also lights the way to my salvation.

There is this great lie that we tell each other: "God will never give you more than you can handle." I'm sorry, but God has regularly and often given me more than I can handle. Nowhere and at no time has He promised to only give us what our humanity can bear. The promise is far bigger than that! God is faithful to overwhelm me, to crack and chafe my weakness into actual brokenness before His throne.

"For the Lord disciplines the one he loves, and chastises every son whom he receives"
"God is treating you as sons. For what son is there whom his father does not discipline?"
"For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it." [Hebrews 12: 6, 7, and 11]

And the very next verse?
"Therefore lift your drooping hands and strengthen your weak knees, and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be put out of joint but rather be healed." [12:12]

And in Ephesians:
"For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named, that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith - that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God. Now to him who is able to do abundantly more than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen." [3:14-21]

Did you hear that, precious brothers and sisters? Though my head droops low, though my feelings and my very body tell me that I am defeated, empty, not enough, Christ dwells in my heart. I, rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend the vast dimensions of that love. Not empowered to clean my kitchen or tidy the living room, necessarily. And perhaps not even strengthened to rise from the couch in the next hour. But the strength in my inner being to simply be turned toward Christ, and to be filled with all the fullness of God. I can rest my spirit and my body in that saving knowledge.

The Lord blesses us with weakness so that His grace might be magnified, as Paul writes, "But he [the Lord] said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me." [2 Cor. 12:9]

And in John 3:30, "He must increase, and I must decrease."

God is most glorified in my weakness when I cast my eyes and heart upon Him, not when I wallow there and mourn my failure. I am a failure, but one who has been promised a crown of glory. I am not destined to remain exhausted and discouraged forever, but predestined to be adopted as a daughter of Jehovah Jireh, our provider, El Shaddai, the all sufficient. Before the foundation of the world, God promised me to Jesus Christ as part of His people, His inheritance of nations, and Christ in His work on the cross closed his fist around me. I am given and bought from all eternity. Far from a "pull yourself up by your bootstraps" or "God helps those who help themselvese" message, this is a glorious "you can do nothing, but I have done all things"promise!

So in my weakness, in my suffering, let me be reminded of my fragile state and great need. But let me also be moved on to great rejoicing and exultant song. The very longing of my heart after help from the Lord is proof that He's breathed life into these bones. His presence is life to me, hallelujah! The truth shepherds my emotions now, and instead of feeling empty I suddenly feel myself topped off to the brim and overflowing with spiritual riches.

"For a day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere." [Psalm 84:10]
and
"Enter his courts with thanksgiving, and his courts with praise! Give thanks to him, bless his name!" [Psalm 100]

Not only that, but what a metaphor is pregnancy - feeling so empty and depleted, but in truth, so full of blessing and life!

SDG!

Enchiladas and Hannibal Lecter

This morning I woke with an intense craving for Mexican food. As Joel kissed me goodbye at 6:45 a.m., I mentioned this to him. He appeared confused and, in a well-intentioned effort to be helpful, suggested that we have nachos and salsa in the house. Nachos, smachos. I was dying - DYING - for chicken and beef enchiladas in ranchero sauce, runny black beans and rice. I wanted it so badly I could taste it, and yes, this would have made the perfect breakfast.

This is only the latest in a regular string of pregnancy-induced dreams and cravings. In fact, this was both. Before waking, I had been dreaming of a delicious enchilada dinner at some random Mexican restaurant. Pregnant dreams are vivid, powerful, and linger long after you've awakened. Which at times can be awkward because pregnant dreams are also WEIRD.

Case in point, I dozed off again after the Mexican food discussion and promptly dreamed of Anthony Hopkins as a smooth, suave figure in a spy-movie-type plot that I can't quite remember but will probably make me feel uncomfortable any time I watch one of his movies. WHO KNOWS.

And this all interspersed with thrice nightly bathroom trips already. I'm only five and a half weeks in. It's going to be a looooooong (and probably entertaining) nine months.