The "nesting instinct"

After 6 months of not having the use of our bedrooms (the entire upstairs), I have finally come to the end of my tolerance. My eye started twitching last week, a sure sign that the stress is getting to me. I think under normal circumstances, I could probably handle it a little better at this point, but considering I am six months pregnant and flat out not able to prepare a "nest" for this little one is really starting to drive my crazy! My house is in an almost-constant state of chaos. I keep organizing and putting things away in my mind, but of course can't even start until after the construction is complete. Hopefully it will go quickly, since I've had so much time to mentally construct everything first. :-) For as annoyed as I became with Tinka, our canary hen, for plucking her feathers and even her babies' feathers when she couldn't find suitable nesting materials for her next round, I think I can kind of relate. There really is something programed into our very nature - all God's creatures and humans alike - about preparation for bringing life into this world, and any interruption to that process produces a disproportionate amount of stress.

A Wedding Tale

Since we live in town, and in rather close proximity to some of our neighbors, Adam and I have experienced the frustration of having some of the neighbor kids invade our yard on a seemingly constant basis when we are out working or playing with the girls. This isn't always a bad thing; we like our children to have friends to play with, but it does get difficult during some times of the year, because it feels like a constant invasion of our family life when we are trying to work, play, or just spend time together as a family. Well, Adam found a unique solution today.......the girls are outside play-pretending about weddings, flowers and all. When one little neighbor boy wandered over, as usual, and asked what they were up to, the girls told him they were playing "wedding." Adam, of course, had to add his two cents' worth, by telling J---, "yeah, and they are looking for a boy to marry!" Apparently, the neighbor boy didn't waste a moment staying in our yard after this announcement....

An Observation on Life

As I rested on the couch, marveling - again - at the sensation of some little one kicking around inside me, I was struck - again - by the glaring inconsistencies of what we modern, sophisticated, educated people - even Christians - call birth control.

Many people try - and some succeed - in their attempt to write volumes of theoretical reasons supporting either the pros or cons of birth control, either natural or artificial. I won't deny that God has allowed us the ability, both through artificial means and natural means to "plan" our child-bearing privileges and responsibilities. It is, indeed, both a privilege and a responsibility, neither of which should be taken lightly, whether or not you believe in "planning" each pregnancy or not, per say.

But to that end, I must say this. There is a sometimes sad, sometimes humorous, but blatantly real irony to the whole concept of birth "control." I suppose it could be said that of our five pregnancies, Adam and I "planned" three of the five. And the simple reality is, that we were blessed to be given the two we did not plan, but so far, only one of the three that we did "plan." I ask you; who controls life and death?

This is not a treatise or essay to persuade people to either adopt or abandon a certain method or ideology of birth "control"; it is simply an observation on a blatant reality of life that might, I hope, encourage some people to pause and withhold judgment on those who might take a different view, but especially some of us who might judge those who take the view that man has no right to "control" birth at all (the Duggar family comes to mind). Neither Adam or I go that far; we believe in the principles of responsible stewardship, and we suspect we know our limits, given our own family situation - and it must be pointed out, that every family is different, and few, if any, are qualified to judge another's situation.

But the truth is, that sometimes God honors both the wishes and methods of one couple who either desire or don't desire children, and yet He has a different plan for some others. Are Adam and I less Godly or spiritual in that we somehow "missed" hearing God when we "planned" two babies that God took home early? Think what you must, but even I have not been able to judge myself that harshly. God tells married couples to see children as a good thing; to be fruitful and multiply; and we did. "The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD." (Job 1:21b)

So I ask again; who holds the keys to life and death? My answer is simple. God holds the keys; not man. Job understood this; Job was able to declare this, even during his life's darkest hour and most staggering loss (see Job 1). Perhaps this is a mystery, or a rooting of faith that only those acquainted with grief can understand. Until you have longed for a child you cannot have, or have a lost a child you were, for however short a season, blessed to have, the idea that man can control his destiny and the introduction of life into this world, seems plausible, reasonable, even good. And, if God chooses to give you all the children you desire, or "plan," and prevents you from having any child you do not want, this is a fallacy you just might be allowed to keep throughout your life. But if you ask any man or woman who has wrestled with the grief of not being to have a child at all, whether first, or second, or third, etc., or a parent who has been forced to let go seemingly too soon, they will tell you....the power of life and death is in God's hands, not man's. And they would be telling you the simple Truth.

Babies, Books, and Bedtimes

It is October. I have stopped commenting on how fast time flies. It has become the most redundant, oft-repeated line of the century. Time always flies, and it flies faster each year. Yes, it is amazing to be seeing all the autumn colors again; however, it is far more amazing to feel our baby's movement as it grows inside me (even Adam got to feel a twitch the other day); it is deeply satisfying to hear my girls reading story books to each other (self-correction - Rachel reads, while Kaelin makes up the stories based on pictures and memory); and bedtime is still one of crowning achievements of my days. There is absolutely nothing more beautiful in the world than the sight of a sleeping child, especially if it is yours.

"fired"

Rachel to her daddy after mommy told her "no":

"I don't like Mommy now. She's fired."

the weariness of nothing

Yesterday, we returned home from my brother's wedding. I spent almost a week at my mom's, helping with whatever, and then was the "wedding day coordinator" for my brother and sister-in-law's wedding. It was a beautiful wedding, and a wonderful and exciting time. However, I honestly can't remember the last time I was so exhausted as I was after the wedding - I certainly wasn't that tired after my own! After the wedding, so many people kept telling me what a good job I did, and how lovely the wedding was, as though I somehow had something to do with it. Maybe I did do something, and I have tried to be gracious in just saying "thank you" to the compliments, but to be honest, I can't remember really doing anything! It is mostly just a blur in my mind. I remember the wedding ceremony, and I remember everyone else working hard and doing all the real jobs of planning, decorating, music, food, etc., but for the life of me, I can't remember doing anything of significance. I just know that I ran around a LOT! - and helped answer questions if I could. And it seems so silly to be so tired from simply that! Oh, well. It may always remain a mystery to my mind, but I'm glad it went well and that people had a good time. I'm so proud of my brother, and so happy that Kami is now my sister.

the friendliest flower

I almost didn't plant any flower planters this year. After all, I already have an abundance of beautiful perennial beds, thanks to the generosity of my mother-in-law, but I had a craving for pansies. They are, in my opinion, truly the friendliest flower I know, and the sight of them in their rainbow of colors never fails to warm my heart. Some of the warmth they instill in me must have something to do with memories of them being pressed in my mom's Bible, and falling out when I would flip through her pages.

So, after wrestling with my 20 gallon barrel planters, I finally succeeded in refilling one with good potting soil, and then filling it with pansies, in every color variation I could find. They are blooming vigorously now, at the end of our sidewalk, and I am almost certain they actually say "hello" whenever I walk by. It has become a daily ritual to go outside in the morning to see all the new blossoms that have opened their smiling faces. Even Kaelin has caught onto this little ritual. She loves to come with and select one or two new ones to pick, which we use to freshen up the cheery pansy bouquet in the kitchen.

I think I may have just started a new tradition. Given the abundance and variation of flowers in other parts of my yard, I think I will give myself permission to skip the yearly crusade to create beautiful combinations of annuals in planters. Insead, I think maybe I will stick to twenty gallons of dirt crowned by bobbing and smiling pansies. I can't think of a friendlier way to say "welcome."