View from the Prairie Box

I am thrilled to have this woman back in Lincoln, Nebraska… and I took the opportunity to sneak up on her a bit at Grace Chapel this morning. Brook. Life is better with her in it.

What a sweet night at Redeemer. We welcomed the Moyers into membership at church and their kiddos were baptized.

December Photo Project, day 20.

December Photo Project, day 19.

My girl.

I wrote a poem in 3rd or 4th grade that went like this:

It is quiet, it is peaceful
When no one’s around
I am alone for once
I don’t want to be found

Truly dramatic if you consider that I’ve always been an extrovert. However I did have two brothers and I loved to read by myself so maybe that was my mindset? At any rate, I look at this shot of Maralee working in my quiet basement and those lines—as well as these lyrics—come to mind. ;)

I
Love
Renae
So
Much.

She’s letting me post this shot even after I surprised her with my camera. Doesn’t matter one bit that technically the shot is no good. It makes me deliciously happy.

The end.

December Photo Project, day 17.

My fall calendar is winding down just in time for the Christmas season. After our foster baby reunified with his mama last April, I’ve been seeking a new rhythm for my days. Summer doesn’t count as Livia came home from school and all schedules were out of whack for three sometimes delightful, sometimes insane months of vacation. Autumn brought cooler temps and a semblance of normality with a new pace that settled into some good places in my life. The new schedule involves lots of coffees and lunches—both intentional and spontaneous—with many friends. Tina is one such friend, heavy on spontaneity with little desire to plan too far in advance. She was the perfect companion for a quick trip to the mall today and and you know what? Now she and I don’t feel any need to go back there anytime soon. Ha!

This guy.
Developer of webs.
Speaker of truth.
Father of Livia.
Sci-fi/fantasy fan.
Kind-spirited.
Generous giver.
Follower of Christ.

He is mine and I love him.

December Photo Project, day 15.

I’m going to dedicate this post to Renae Morehead and Maralee Bradley, both of whom have been scared by my husband many many times. Jeremy gets a special thrill out of surprising others and, lucky for him, Livia loves to get scared—especially when she’s getting scared by her dad. Tonight there was an excessive amount of romping around the house in anticipation of making (who are we kidding? it’s the eating that’s most exciting) fudge with mom. This moment was mostly staged as I realized it would be a hilarious DPP shot, but even then the whole experience still set Liv’s nerves on end much to our great pleasure.

I don’t think I’ve ever missed a DPP posting until yesterday. I mean, really. I had Jeremy post once for me during an outpatient surgery [cue eyeroll] but couldn’t manage one yesterday between forgetting my camera during my one outing and feeling kinda cruddy during the evening hours. I’m not losing sleep over any of this, but it was really hard to force myself to take the shots today. I’m glad I did, however, because I got a few gems that really captured our lives at this point. Maybe I’ll post the other pics next month. DPP rejects will live on!

Last night a pastor from a church in Fremont preached at Redeemer. In these four weeks of Advent our pastor Michael Gordon has been preaching a series on the “mothers” of Jesus, the women listed in Matthew’s genealogy. The series has been excellent (you can find the sermons here). Last night’s preaching on Ruth brought up a point that I had never noticed before—that Ruth in her first marriage never had children. In Ruth’s marriage to Naomi’s son, which the bible tells us lasted about 10 years, she was barren.

If you go on and read the entire book of Ruth you’ll learn that Boaz eventually marries Ruth and together they give birth to Obed, who is the grandfather of King David. Jesus is born in this same line, many generations later.

This weird thing happens anytime someone mentions the word “barren” in a sermon. I get hot. I feel like everyone must immediately be thinking of me with sorrow in their hearts. Yes, that is a very self-centered way to think, but it is also true that my dear, wonderful, beloved friends think of me when they hear a hard story of infertility. It’s the story that—for me—continues and does not end with biological offspring as many other stories do. If you’ve studied the bible or been listening to sermons through the years, then you’ve heard of Sarah, Abraham’s wife, as well as of Hannah and Ruth. Infertile women, all of them. God opened their wombs, all of them. And furthermore, God did great things through the children he promised them.

I itch and sweat in the pew as these women’s stories are told. I get uncomfortable. I want to hide. Because my story is not like theirs; my infertility has found no resolution.

So hear me loud and clear as I get something off my chest:
God has not healed me AND he is still good.

Do you believe that? Can you believe that? Can you see something and want something so badly, can you pray for something for years and years and years, can you see your friends receive the gifts that you are not getting and can you still believe that God is good?

YES. Yes, you can. And you should.

I believe in the promises of God listed in the bible.

I believe he is good and withholds nothing that I truly need.

I believe he adores me the way that no human being can ever adore me.

I believe he catches all my tears in a bottle, that he holds me in the palm of his hand, that he shelters me under the shadow of his wings.

I believe I can be barren, infertile, not have the tidy ending of a biological child and that at the end of the day I am the recipient of God’s goodness.

THAT is what I believe. My story is the perfect one written for Rebecca Tredway. It is not Hannah’s, nor Sarah’s, nor Ruth’s. It is mine. The ending is not told, but the hope of the ending is not found in fertility. It is not found in adoption either (as profoundly grateful as I am that adoption made me a mother!). The hope I have is found in Jesus who gave everything to make me his. It’s that kind of love that gives me peace, that lets me rest, that forces me to take a deep breath in the middle of a sermon that deals with a barren womb. All is not lost. I am healed in all the right places.

The Redeemer Christmas party!!