"For in Him we live, and move, and have our being..." Acts 17:28
Thursday, July 14, 2011
I wanted to go ahead and put these on here, seeing as how they are basically blog posts anyway.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
My Dad and I have always been very close. This being Father's Day, I tried to think back to my favorite memory with my Dad, there's so many to choose from. I could talk about Ludwig and Russnic... the infamous left and right hand puppets he created to help me understand my science homework when I was in first grade that immediately became our favorite past time for years. I could talk about him rocking me and singing to me for hours one night when my stomach hurt really bad and I couldn't sleep. I could talk about our reading chair... that old gray recliner that I would hop into with a book any time I wanted him to read to me... which was every day. I could talk about walking to The Country Kitchen when I was 4, that little mom and pop restaurant that used to be in New Albany, and how we would step on "turtles" and "alligators" on the way (the circle and rectangle shaped sewer tops in the sidewalk). I could talk about how he used to lay on his back, hold me up in the air, and make me "fly" around to McDonald's, or Walmart (gah), or anywhere else I wanted to "go". There are the times I would love to just sit and watch him do this really neat doodling with lines that I've only seen him do. And then there are the countless memories of his singing, preaching, and ministry. But by far... one memory stands out among all the others. I love snow. I always have. Dad was working the late night shift one winter, and it started snowing on his way home. When he got home, he woke me up and told me to put my shoes and coat on... didn't tell me why or where we were going. Then he walked with me outside while it snowed, all the way down Bankhead street on the sidewalk. We chit chatted the entire way with the snow quietly falling around us. It's a moment I will never, ever forget, and it only barely describes the wonderful man I am privileged to call Daddy.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
About this time a year ago, I held Eliana Nicole in my arms for the very first time. What an easy birth compared to Rachel (12 hours), or even Jordan (6 hours). Ellie let me know she was contemplating making her grand appearance a few days ahead of time, but like now, she didn't get in too big of a hurry. We timed Braxton Hick's contractions about every 30 min. to an hour for a good two days before being induced in the hospital. But June 14 would have still been her birthday, with or without Pitocin. We were already at 5cm when they first checked me that morning. She may have been an easy delivery, with her being born exactly 11 minutes after they told be I was at 10 cm (I pushed for 2 hours with Rachel...ugh). But the pregnancy was another story. My body was older, more used, the heaviest it's ever been, and very, very tired during those 9 months. Enduring two glucose tolerance tests (with that gaggy thick syrup and blood draws for 4 hours), I was diagnosed with Gestational Diabetes during my third trimester, and thus began a diet change and many finger sticks. In the end, through all the aches, pains, and woes of pregnancy, I count myself beyond blessed to have been able to bring life into this world for the third time. I see it as a privilege, not a right. It is my body, no doubt. But at the moment of conception, a woman's body is taken over by a being that quite literally draws the very life out of her to feed itself. My body is not my own for 9 months, it's shared. And for the only time in my body's existence, it does not fight a foreign being or sees it as an intruder... it instead fully embraces it, protects it, and will draw vitamins and minerals from it's very bones to give to the little one growing inside if not provided through other means. Pregnancy is the only time a human body will give up the survival instinct of self preservation to give of itself to another beating heart. What an amazing, wonderful time. It may sound cliché', but it's worth it all. From the time my ears hear that first doppler heart beat, to the time my eyes first see the tiny beating heart on the screen, to the time my belly feels that first kick, to the time my arms feel the soft, newborn skin... it's worth it all. And every time I see that belly button, whether during a diaper change or bath time... I'm reminded of where we were connected together for a short time, and that even though we're now separated from that physical bond, we'll forever be inseparable through the bonds of love.