Saturday, December 25, 2010


"Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy"  1 Peter 1:8

Little Noah has been nothing but joy over the past two weeks.  He almost always has a smile on his face, or one that's easy to get out of him.  I have laughed so much at him: I didn't think that a little baby could be so much fun!

What an awesome precursor to the joy of Christmas!   While I can only imagine the joy of the angels or the shepherds or Mary and Joseph, I am thankful for the joy that God has graciously given to my heart this Christmas season.  Even though I have not seen the baby Christ with my own eyes, I have the joy of knowing that he chose to come into the world to save sinners like me.  

Merry Christmas!

Thursday, December 2, 2010


Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;
his love endures forever.
Psalm 106:1

It seems as though a whole season has passed since I last had a moment to reflect.  Amid the baking, cooking, eating, dish washing, game playing, and madhouse shopping of last week, I was able to squeeze in a few moments with my husband in which we listed off the many things we have to be thankful for.

The obvious things showed up on the list, of course.  And a lot of people I talked to over the course of the week said things like, "Oh, you have a house to be thankful for!"  or  "Your first Thanksgiving in your new home--it will be so special."  But the things that I'm really thankful for have nothing to do with the new house or with the food that was on the table or anything like that.  

I realized that I'm thankful for the intangible, the stuff I can't put my hands on.  Even as I write these words, I can't properly describe the depth of thankfulness I have for the man I love and the little boy we can call our own.  Each night, I thank the God who made the heavens that he has granted me one more day to spend with Dave and Noah.  And the thing that I can't seem to wrap my mind around is this: that the love of the Father, his grace and mercy, is so much more special than even these.

Friday, October 29, 2010


For He is the living God,
and he endures forever; 
 his kingdom will not be destroyed,
his dominion will never end.
He rescues and he saves;
he performs signs and wonders 
in the heavens and on the earth.
Daniel 6:26-27

Tonight is the last night that we will be sleeping in the run-of-the-mill one bedroom apartment that has served as our home for the last 16 months.  We are quite cramped in our 460 square feet, our bedroom doubling as a nursery and the living room doubling as storage space, so in one sense, I can't wait to move to a larger house.  However, there is a large part of me, unexpectedly, that is grieving the loss of this place.  This is our home: the first place where Dave and I have been "all grown up" (out of school); the first place where we've ever had a pet; the only place Noah has known.  We are comfortable here: we are used to overhearing our neighbors fight, we know the walking trails, we can easily get from here to there (wherever there might be).

I think about all the unknowns of our new home.  I wonder if we'll be happy we moved there or if we'll end up disappointed.  Part of me wants to stay in the apartment, because it's safe.  Perhaps I'm hesitant to move because it's just one more change to add to the tally list this year, and right now I'm yearning for stability.

As I was reading through the book of Daniel this week, I was struck with the power of the Everlasting Lord.  He never changes, and has been in control of history since the very first day.  He was alive to keep Daniel safe from the lions' mouths.  He was alive on the Sunday after his death to bring comfort and peace to his friends.  He is living today, giving me the strength and courage I need to make another change.  I pray that his peace would never leave its home in me.

Sunday, October 10, 2010

Receiving Help

I like to think of myself as a pretty capable person, and, like a lot of people, I like to prove that I can do things on my own.  Perhaps that comes from being the only sister among a handful of brothers.  Perhaps it's part of the culture we live in.

Earlier this week, I was walking from the parking lot to my apartment with Noah in a carrier and at least 10 bags of groceries loaded on my arms.  A neighborhood boy saw me walking past and said, "Do you need any help?" to which I kindly replied, "No, I'm ok. Thank you."  to which he quickly retorted, "Oh, 'cause it kind of looks like you're struggling there."  Apparently he could see my need better than I could!

As I type this out, I am wondering about all the times that God sees our needs better than we do.  How often does he hold out his hand to offer the assistance we need, only to be told, "No, thanks. I'm ok"?

My husband and I definitely have our hands fully these days.  We are currently trying to pack up our little apartment in the hopes of moving into our first home.   The process of "closing" on the house has been more of a headache than either of us had anticipated, which has left us in a generally disgruntled mood.  We were hoping to move two weeks ago.  Now we're beginning to think that we'll be lucky if it happens at all. This will be the fourth time that we've moved, but the first time that we've attempted to do it with a five-month-old around.

It's at this point when I think that God sees our need better than we do.  We think we're doing pretty good: half of the house is packed, we reassure ourselves that all the paperwork will come together in good time, we don't mind too much that we're eating off of a folding table or that we haven't been able to find things we need.  

Today I marvel at the fact that God has seen our needs and has offered his help.  How can I be confident of that?  On Sunday, a friend of ours stopped by with some homemade minestrone for us and treated Dave to conversation over a beer.  This week, my schedule at work was considerably lighter (which I consider a blessing).  Wednesday, my generous friend came over for a few hours to watch Noah while I packed.  What a difference these small instances made in my attitude over the past week.

Thank you, God, for putting people in our lives to help us when we need it, especially when we don't think we do.  Help me live with my hands open, willingly giving (and receiving) help.

Thursday, September 30, 2010

On Becoming Daddy

Perhaps one of the greatest joys of having a son is getting to watch my husband become a dad.  Granted he was "father" to the child biologically in an instant.  His part as dad is constantly developing (and entertaining, quite honestly).

From the moment Noah was born, Dave has said the things that a dad should say: teaching him about life, about girls, about Jesus; telling him how much he's loved.  He has always blown raspberries on his belly and exposed him to the fun of mischief.  However, I was always the default caregiver, the one who read the books, the one who knew the answers (most of the time).

Two weeks ago, I returned back to work to a job that requires me to be gone from home in the evenings.  Now, Dave is in charge of putting Noah to bed more often than I am.  The first few nights, I wondered how things were going to pan out.  I kept checking my phone, expecting to get an urgent call: "What should I do to make him stop crying?" or "Where is the pacifier?" or "Which pajamas should he wear?"  That first night, I did get quite a few text messages.  The second night, perhaps one.  The third night, I didn't get a baby update until I got home. 

On a recent night off, I got to be a witness to the routine that the two of them have established, only to be (I'm ashamed to say) surprised at how good Dave was at taking care of Noah.  He gave him a bath, washing in all the cracks--my chunk of a son has quite a few, dried him off, cuddled with him, read him a story from his Bible book, walked with him, put him in his cradle and watched patiently while Noah drifted off to sleep, realigning the pacifier when necessary.

I can't put in to words how my heart swelled at the joy of watching my husband be a great dad.  It is a transformation that I anticipated and expected, but one that I could not have known would be so wonderful to see.

Dave now knows Noah's needs now more intuitively, he's able to make him laugh in countless ways, and he really enjoys hanging out with his little son.  The light in his eyes is illumined by the joy in his heart.  He LOVES being a dad, and I am blessed to be witness to it.

As much as I dislike having to go back to work, as much as I wish I were home when there, as much as I grumble and whine about the situation, I am so thankful for the opportunity that my going back to work has opened in Dave's relationship with Noah and in building the character of "dad" in Dave.  I see God at work in this, too, and I marvel at His provision.

Saturday, September 11, 2010


May your unfailing love be my comfort, according to your promise to your servant.  Psalm 119:76

For the past few days, it seems that the only place where my son can find comfort is in my arms.  This afternoon, he was in his cradle, wailing as loud as his little lungs would allow, trying desperately to get comfortable so he could fall asleep.  I walked into the bedroom, scooped him up in my arms, and he instantaneously relaxed, stopped crying and got comfortable enough to fall asleep.  (I'm sure the parenting books would have scolded me for it.)  

The comfort that he finds in my arms reminds me of that which I should find in my Father's arms.  So often, I get frustrated with this world. I'm tempted to wail as loud as my lungs will allow, angry and upset about the things that aren't right.   Left to my own self, I'm sure I would continue to wail until I either grew hoarse or exhausted.  Sometimes I refuse the arms that would comfort me, reasoning that they must not know what they're doing or that they aren't the right fit for me.  Praise God that He continually offers to come in to where I am, pick me up and hold me close, enabling me to calm down and find comfort in His embrace. 

As our nation stands upon a day in which we remember awful tragedies and look back and forward along our road of recovery, I pray that we would not reject the One who loves us and is reaching out to us to comfort us and draw us close to Him.

Friday, August 27, 2010


"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.
Matthew 11:28

One of my greatest fears of becoming a new mom was the lack of sleep that I would inevitably endure.  I absolutely LOVE sleep.  When most people do well to get 7-8 hours of rest, I thrive on 9-10.  I think I make my husband jealous occasionally of my love affair with my bed and pillow.  

As I got closer to my baby's due date, I heard wonderful words of advice from all the seasoned veterans out there: 

"Sleep as much as you can now [while you're pregnant], because you won't be sleeping when the baby comes."  

"Moms don't really sleep" 

(and my favorite) "I haven't slept well in years."

In the middle of the night last night, I mistook my son for the cat.  (Don't ask me how or why.)  My husband came to the obvious conclusion that I'm not getting enough sleep.

While I can't help but laugh at the goofy things I do when I'm tired, I am reminded of God's awesome words of promise: "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest."  Time and time again, I am amazed by how He makes this truth a reality in my life.  I am revived by Scriptures, encouraged by Christian brothers and sisters, and helped by the power of none other than His Spirit.  

And, as little Noah sleeps in this morning, I am thankful for a few moments of quiet rest.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010


So you are no longer a slave, but a son; and since you are a son, God has made you also an heir.  Galatians 4:7

This is my journey of raising a son of mine to be a son of God's.