Fast-Forward, Slow-Motion, and In-Between

Much of last summer and fall felt like a scene from a movie in which the pivotal moments ensued in slow-motion. I remember the first few minutes after KiSA told me he'd been laid off, and driving away from our house for the final time. I think of saying goodbye to friends, or the hours of passing through thick woods hugging both sides of the interstate, holding onto the steering wheel and my faith. I remember hearing my heart beat.

Other times, time flew by with a tornado-like ferocity that seemed it could steal my breath. I watched as my children sprang up taller than seemed possible, the light of understanding brightening their eyes more each day. I listened as words tumble out of their mouth, and wondered that they could learn to speak overnight. I watched my belly swell like a blossom under a time-lapse camera, keeping time with weekly updates coming in to my email.

And the rest of life happened with an unwavering, unstoppable steadiness. Whether a new hardship or victory came our way each day, the number of hours stayed the same. While some mothers resent what they call the monotony of domestic life, I've been thankful for it. For even when circumstances related to a house, or a car, or a medical bill careened out of my control, bath time still happened at 7:00 p.m. Snack was at 3:00. And so forth. The dishes and laundry and toilet training and feeding all gave me something predictable, something routine, something that didn't change when seemingly everything else did.

We're entering into a season of hopes being fulfilled now. Whereas faith is believing in the unseen, we are now watching promises take shape before our eyes. Through each moment, fast or slow, routine or life-changing, I've been thankful for one thing. God doesn't change. He doesn't move. He is everywhere, even with me. Time means nothing to Him. I am so, so thankful for His steadying Hand each step along the way.

Thirty-Seven

It's a praise six years in the making.

SuperKid was born 6 years ago this past December. He was 6 weeks early. Thank God, he is plenty strong and healthy today, but it was a tough way to start out.

WonderBoy was born at 37 weeks, and I've given much of the credit for that to a medication of which I received injections for 20 weeks.

This wee one, this MysteryBaby, is 37 weeks gestational age today. The credit for that goes entirely to God. He brought healing to my body in May, so that this little life began within 5-6 days of praying for it. Unheard of, for someone with my medical history. He's given me a completely healthy pregnancy. I did not have access to that medication this time around. And yet today, we arrive at the calendar destination that says statistically, it is safe to be born. It's what we've all prayed for these many months.

I'm so, so very grateful. To God be the glory!

Don't Try This at Home

Wonderboy came to me with a small, plastic spear that had accompanied a toy set. It was about 3 inches long.

"Dis is a weal buwet," he said earnestly. "Don't twy dis at home."

Do you think he's seen Mythbusters?

Happy Anniversary

I like anniversaries. I like the nostalgia, ambiguity and general mushiness of revisiting our shared memories. Celebrating and mourning together adds another support beam under our relationship that seems to grant us more strength and a deeper commitment. Plus, I like all the extra hugs and kisses.

Tomorrow will be 11 years since KiSA and I said our marriage vows. Each year, I struggle a bit more with coming up with words to adequately encapsulate this experience. Because each year adds unexpected new experiences, and I learn something new about my fellow sojourner. I'm deeply, deeply thankful for my husband. I'm humbled that God saw fit to make me the one who gets to be the witness to his life.

I'm being a bit of an early bird, here, but God brought two songs across our paths yesterday that touched the central nerve of where we seem to be right now. It's an attempt to honor the great man who is my other half, and the unfathomably good God who gave him to me.

Andrew Peterson, "Dancing in the Minefields"

Sean McConnell, "Our Love and Our Souls"

Along the Way

It started with a stick. As often happens, my agenda is waylaid by an interesting stick that demands to be examined. Then, a rock. Next, a puddle. It was a nice day today, and I was determined we were going to take a walk. Stop interrupting, kids, we're going to accomplish our mission!

It took a few stops for me to realize they were doing exactly what I hope they will always do--exploring their world with wonder. Finally, I realized I should forget the destination, we were out to see what we could see.

We visited with a neighbor working in her yard and realized we go to the same church, and she let them pet her very sweet Sheltie and play with the pool table in her garage. They climbed crepe myrtles and jumped in puddles. We saw a bird's nest and a ladybug crawled up on Wonderboy's shirt. We visited with another neighbor. (Let us trick-or-treat at your house once and they'll think you're friends for life!) They raced, and then took turns trying to walk ever so carefully on the curb, Wonderboy's soft little hands grabbing mine for balance.

All told, we went 4 blocks. Maybe. It took us about an hour. In the end, would I have won a prize for completing our original mission in record time? Wasn't the point to enjoy nice weather and spend time together?

The idea behind all this was the inspiration for the title of this blog in the first place. These children are miracles, even though children are born every day. The wonder and innocence and discovery with which they approach ordinary, everyday life is miraculous. They are surprised, entertained, scared, excited and curious about things which I take for granted. To have someone (or two, or three!) walk beside you on life's path, pointing out all the joy and mystery that would otherwise be missed, is a transformational and precious gift.

So, enjoy your walk. We did.

Answered Prayer

Our house here in Texas will be rented out at the beginning of January. This is a wonderful answer to prayer. We are so excited!

Mystery Baby

"So," I'm asked. "How's the baby?"

Answer: great. Both the baby and I are doing great. We're at 31 1/2 weeks, and everything that can be checked, measured, scanned or in any way quantified is exactly as it should be. I am getting tired and sore more easily now, and take frequent breaks. This has been my healthiest and easiest pregnancy, and so I can't complain that I'm finally having to slow down.

This child is extraordinarily active. He or she started moving earlier and more vigorously than either of the boys. The sonographer confirmed this in my most recent scan, noting that they normally record fetal movement as "good," but this time she was going to have to write, "great."

We really must find names. I'm hoping to come up with two names for each gender. I'd love to say more, but we just don't have any to share as of yet.

We've pulled the essential baby items out of storage and are trying to find places for it all. It won't be long now!

Speaking of time, I'm asking for prayers that we reach 37 weeks, which is full-term. I have full confidence this will be the case, but I'm asking for agreement anyway!