Kiss Your Miracle

I’ve been writing this blog for a little over a year now and it’s been a great experience, mainly because of you, my reader-friends. It was a bit scary when I first started, but your comments were always supportive and understanding. I had no idea all the things I’d be writing about this past year. I just knew I wanted to talk about my experience with infertility and my start as a mother. Then I was suddenly pregnant again, and I got to share all about that and the birth of Micah Nathan this past February. I also wrote about my dad’s cancer and death. This past year has been one of major changes; writing the blog has forced me to spend time thinking it all through. And if the blog has been therapeutic, you all have been the counselors. It’s been wonderful to dump out my feelings and have you read them and remind me I’m not alone. Your encouraging words will stay with me for a long time.

I’ve decided to wrap up this blog for now and maybe start something new in the fall. I’ve written a lot about motherhood through the lens of infertility, which is a perspective I never want to forget. My history makes me grateful for the miracles I’ve been given and it helps me empathize with anyone still waiting to be a parent. At the same time, I’m ready to move forward and let the infertility chapter of my life be closed. I don’t want to dwell on the pain God has removed.

The Bible talks a lot about seasons and how there’s a proper time for everything. Ecclesiastes, one of my favorite books, says there is a time to be silent and a time to speak (3:7). I think I’ve said what I wanted, so maybe now is a time to be quiet. Ecclesiastes also says, “The more the words, the less the meaning, and how does that profit anyone?” (6:11). A talker like me should take wisdom like that to heart.

Thanks again for reading. Your comments have lifted my spirits more than you probably know. I also have to give a great big thank you to my sweet Adam, who set up my blog, maintained it (along with blogs for several other people), talked through lots of ideas with me, read every single post, and touched up all the photos. It’s pretty cool to be married to your favorite person on the planet.

I hope over this past year I’ve said something you’ve found encouraging. But more than that, I hope I’ve given glory to God. His opinion matters most of all.

PS – I couldn’t do my last post without tossing in a couple family photos. I just love these people so much!

Micah is turning into a little thumb-sucker. This is both a good and bad thing. Self-soothing is a wonderful skill for a baby to develop, both for his sake and his parents’. And Micah looks cute sucking his thumb. But sometimes I wonder if he’ll get so hooked on it that he’ll still be doing it in grade school, wanting to give it up, but unable to resist the temptation.

Habits are hard to break for both kids and adults. Most of us here in America have access to all kinds of comfort. It’s a blessing until we go from simply enjoying something to becoming dependent on it. But where is that line? How do we know if we should try for moderation or just cut something out entirely?

The Bible tells us to sacrifice for the sake of holiness (Romans 12:1) and to keep ourselves unstained by the world (James 1:27). But it also tells us to enjoy life. The author of Ecclesiastes writes, “I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live. That each of them may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all their toil—this is the gift of God” (3:12-13).

I believe in absolute truth, and in some places Scripture is very clear. Jesus says He is the only way to eternal life. You can’t get around that and still claim to believe the Bible. But Scripture is also full of ambiguity. It’s fascinating to me that God chose to leave His word in our hands to interpret and apply.

And sometimes it’s frustrating. I have categories where I want God to spell out the details for me. How much wine is too much? How much media is too much? I guess if there was one sweeping standard, it’d be laid out in the Bible. It seems my question about the line – what God wants His believers to enjoy and what He wants them to sacrifice – will be drawn in different places for each individual.

Figuring all this out isn’t easy. But the more I talk with God and search His word for answers, the more I know Him. God does everything on purpose, and it seems He wants me to spend this time with Him as He helps me draw lines where they need to be. Not for others, but for myself. And not for the past or the future, but for now. I like the little comforts God has put in my life, but I want to save my love for God Himself, and writing my personal definition of moderation is part of that.

I’m not sure what all this has to do with Micah and his thumb-sucking. But it’s interesting how thought-provoking a baby can be.

I was a little nervous yesterday morning as I drove to our last MOPS meeting of the year. Along with three other women, I was scheduled to give a short testimony about how God has worked in my life. I’d decided to focus on the infertility and our miracle babies, which is a story I love to tell. But writing about it or sharing it in a conversation is not the same as talking about it over a microphone in front of a large group. It also didn’t help that I had to go first. The room was very quiet as I walked toward the podium.

As soon as I got through my opening paragraph though, I felt myself relax. I stopped worrying about how I was coming across and started thinking about the words, the story, and what God had done. When I got to the end of my testimony, I shared two scriptures God keeps putting in my head (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18, which just might be the theme scripture for the rest of my life, and Isaiah 43:1-2, which is one of the most comforting promises I’ve ever read). After I thanked everyone for listening and headed for my seat in the back of the room, I felt this sudden rush of happiness. I guess part of it was relief that I was done with the up-front sharing part. But mostly it was joy at the memory how God answered the biggest prayer I’ve ever prayed.

It’s funny sometimes how God works. I wanted to encourage one or two of my MOPS friends with my little speech, and I hope that happened. But I was also talking to myself, reminding my forgetful brain of just how good I have it and how powerful my God really is.

I can’t wait to pass our story on to Sky and Micah. I hope when they look back on their childhood they forget the times I got irritated and complained about nothing. I want them to remember how their mom was always talking about God’s goodness and His blessing on our family.

“Great is the Lord and most worthy of praise; His greatness no one can fathom. One generation commends your works to another; they tell of your mighty acts. They speak of the glorious splendor of your majesty – and I will meditate on your wonderful works.” – Psalm 145:3-5

When Adam and I were dealing with infertility, Mother’s Day was difficult. I loved celebrating my wonderful mom, but it was hard to get around my own personal sadness.

Then I got pregnant and everything changed. Last year I celebrated Mother’s Day with our baby girl in my arms. When they handed out carnations at church, they gave one to me. I remember handing my little pink flower to nine-month-old Skylar, who immediately scrunched it up in her tiny hands, and as I watched her I let myself cry a bit. The whole day felt like a sigh of relief. God had given me what I’d asked of Him, what I’d always wanted, and it was good to take a day and dwell on it.

A year has gone by and in that time God has given us another baby – our sweet Micah Nathan. But hard things have happened this year too, and sometimes they get all my attention. Lately my thoughts have been weighed down by grief.

But today is Mother’s Day and once again I brought home a little pink carnation from church. It’s sitting in front of me now, reminding me of my answered prayers and filling me up with joy and gratitude. Sometimes there’s nothing better than to sit and think about the things God has done.

“I will consider all your works and meditate on all your mighty deeds.” – Psalm 77:12

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about death. My dad’s death, Jill’s death, and even my own. I listened to a podcast last week by Francis Chan and can’t get it out of my head. His topic was Revelation 4, which describes the throne of God in heaven. Chan’s main point was that most of what we obsess over on earth will mean nothing to us on that day. All any of us will want in that moment is to hear Jesus speak the words “well done” over our lives.

I wonder about my dad and Jill, and what it was like for them when they opened their eyes and found themselves staring at the actual throne of God across the crystal sea. Were they thrilled? Relieved? Terrified? I have no idea and that makes me want to cry. I believe heaven will be wonderful, but none of it is familiar, so in that sense it’s intimidating. I don’t like that I can’t picture exactly what my dad is doing right now.

Life has a heaviness to it these days. Once the kids are asleep, my thoughts immediately go to my dad, my family, Jill, and her family. I’ve never felt grief like this and I wonder how long it will take for things to feel normal again or if they ever will. But the Bible says that the Lord is close to the brokenhearted (Psalm 34:18), and I know God is with me in the sadness.

He keeps blessing me, too. This past weekend was nice in so many small ways. The sunset on Friday was amazing. Adam and I had no plans at all and spent loads of time playing with the kids on the living room floor, watching Cubs games and the Kentucky Derby. On Saturday we got a new baby pool for Sky and she liked it so much we couldn’t get her out of it. Best of all, Micah laughed for the first time this weekend.

Little physical blessings don’t erase grief. But each one reminds me that God is good and loving and He has filled my life with wonderful things I didn’t earn and don’t deserve.

“Our days on earth are like grass; like wildflowers, we bloom and die. The wind blows, and we are gone – as though we had never been here. But the love of the Lord remains forever with those who fear Him.” – Psalm 103:15-17a