Adjusting. And ReAdjusting.

I should be resting right now. I know this.

But what do you do when your 18 month-old isn't utilizing her amazing opportunity to nap? but has instead chosen her allotted rest time to try out the full range of her vocal abilities. (for those not acquainted with 18 month-olds, you can read that as "she's screaming").

So here I sit. piddling.

Honestly, this transition to four hasn't been hard. In fact, I'm truly loving it. But it has required a lot of my doing Nothing. ...something that I don't feel "good at" or emotionally comfortable with.

For I'm the type of person who likes to be up and running around. getting things accomplished. projects finished. items checked off my illustrious Things To Do List.

But I'm finding that my mental to-do list has had to drastically change. Because there can no longer be 'big ticket' items like "Paint Upstairs Hallway" or "Clean Bathroom".

Nope. It's all about the small things now:

Brush teeth. Nurse baby. Change diapers when you notice a lingering smell. Make sure girls get out of pajamas before 5 pm. Sing ABCs to create pseudo-atmosphere of home schooling.

I'm finding that in order to preserve my sanity, I must change the way I approach my lists. And not because of the girls. Honestly, they're almost as easy as they come.

But rather, due to my own expectation of what will and can get done during the day.

Because I'm finding it's all about perspective right now. And depending on where my perspective lies...that determines how my entire day will play out.

If I go into a day feeling that TUVWXYZ must happen in order for me to be a good mom, then I'm pretty much setting myself up for frustration. And then Mean Mommy comes out of hiding.

Which is never pretty.

So these days, I'm trying to adopt the mindset that if something gets "done," it's a bonus. If nothing gets done, but I'm a joyful mommy then...*Hallelujah. Let's Rejoice!*

The atmosphere I create in my home over the next month or so will be what my girls remember. Not the clean floors. Or the pristine execution of school work. I figure right now, they're learning about life with babies. And yes, even Math and English happen, too.

You know, like when they take notice of the fact that there are 1-2-3-FOUR dirty diapers sitting in a pile on the floor. And they form an intelligent complete sentence to inform me of such. ;)

The Miracle No One Expected.

A couple of weeks before delivery, I felt something was wrong.

After calling the OB office, they agreed to see me. monitoring the baby, they watched my contractions and her heart reaction to them. And because they saw a dip in her heart rate when I contracted, they did an ultrasound. finding that my amniotic fluid was low (7).

I was sent to the hospital. And then released when everything checked out fine. I was told to drink water like crazy, which I did to the extent that I felt sick from it all. They checked me again a few days later and said that the amniotic fluid still wasn't good, but was better (11).

Yet.

I still felt something wasn't right. I couldn't explain it. And didn't even try. It just wasn't something that I wanted to put to words. to vocalize. or acknowledge. ...not even to Jet.

So I just prayed, silently. giving my unsure feelings over to the Lord. The only one who could see my little one. The only one who, if need be, make a difference and change what was wrong.

That feeling never really left me. So those prayers of protection were, the last few weeks, always near my heart.

After my precious Alana was born. Everything was going as it should. The cord was cut. She was placed on my chest. She was vigorously cleaned off. I hugged her, in awe that a blond child just came from my womb. in awe of the birth story that God had just unfolded for me.

All was sweet in my world.

And then the midwife spoke: "This little girl has angels on her shoulders. watching out for her."

I remember smiling, thinking that was a random, sweet thing to say. I figured it had to do with the birth experience and Barbara's thoughts on it. But as I looked up at her, I could see that she was talking about something completely different.

For in her hand, she held the umbilical cord, showing us exactly what she meant. A knot in the cord.

But not only one. There were TWO.

Something, she said, you never see. Something you never want to see. Because had the knot(s) becomes tightened, the baby's oxygen supply would have been cut off. completely.

resulting in miscarriage or stillbirth.

It was one of those moments when I didn't have time to think. to process the weight of what she just said. Immediately and spontaneously, I started to pray out loud in my prayer language (some call it "speaking in tongues").

Neither my brain nor my emotions had words for what I knew I was witnessing. So out of my spirit, came groanings too deep for me to express. worship to Jesus too intense for mere words.

I just prayed. I couldn't stop. I didn't care what the nurses or midwife thought of me. whether they thought I had lost my mind. or assumed I was one of those "crazy, out-there Christians". The moment was too intense for me to give them a second thought.

And then when I felt I could pray no more, all I could do was say "Jesus Jesus" over and over again. For I know He alone saved the life of my little Alana...

Sometime after Barbara delivered the umbilical cord, she called Jet over to see it. She couldn't stop talking about how HUGE the placenta was.

She turned it inside out. poked it with her finger. squeezed it with both of her hands. held it up for all to see. She then turned to the umbilical cord, showing all who were interested just how thick the cord was. My mom said it looked like two cords were sewn together.

Barbara went on to explain that it was the thickness and elasticity (health) of the placenta and the cord that kept the knots from being able to pull tight...

and do fatal damage.

Honestly, I still am yet to fathom the full impact of what that all means. There are times when I sit back and try to imagine what life would be like had the cord been pulled tight. It makes me cry to even type it.

For I know my life would mirror a deep sorrow that words can't even express. BUT...and I rejoice in ways I can't express...that that is NOT how the story of her birth ended.

God not only gave me a supernatural, painfree birth. But to my daughter, He gave Life.

And I am forever forever forever grateful as I look into the face of my precious Lani. I am forever reminded of the fact that God intimately watches over my daughters.

The Birth Story- Part 1

Dear Little Alana,

I don't know why but for some reason, this has been a hard thing to write. I feel the responsibility to not miss one iota of what God did during your labor and delivery season.

to process it fully. to dig into the depths of it with a commitment that time just doesn't allow. to document it with all the passion and humor the Lord delved out during those last hours.

But being that He was POURING and POURING out on me while you were being birthed, I'm not sure I could ever do it all justice.

Not to mention the fact that He continues to pour out over my life. So I know I need to write this and move on. Because He sure is... already moving on to the next Faith Challenge in my life. A much larger one, in my opinion.

So for now, here are the bare minimum details. Nothing too deep. Just the facts that skim the surface. I'm thinking the deeper things, the spiritual parallels and revelations, will have to come later. a piece at a time.

I love you and I love your birthing story, my little Lani...

Mommy

........
Tuesday, September 16th I woke up around 1AM. Knowing full well that real labor was going to start sometime in the next couple of hours. I wasn't contracting regularly by any means. Maybe one every 15 minutes. Who knows. but whenever I was contracting, they were hard.

Because I knew the Lord said it was going to be fast and that it'd go from nothing to everything all at once AND that there would be no outward signs (other than contractions)....that we had better get up and get moving.

So we leisurely started to get ready. I say leisurely because I knew I wasn't having the "big" contractions or real labor yet. So why rush? Well, other than the fact that Jet could be forced to deliver at home or in the car. But aside from that small formality. I just wasn't in the mood to run around all crazy like. *grin*

From early on, I had put on my MP3 player and started jamming to worship. (In fact, I didn't take that player off until they delivered Alana and put her on top of me to clean her off.) I knew I needed to be focused and at peace. and for me, worship is the avenue where I can totally focus on the Lord and not myself.

And as we pulled onto the highway that takes us to the hospital, the Lord began to speak. Telling me encouraging things, much like a husband would. And always ending it with speaking my name. Like "You're doing great, Christin. We're almost there." etc.

I can't remember another time when a heavenly conversation has been exactly like that. Ever. Everything he said to me during the drive to the hospital was like that. very gentle. very encouraging. very personal.

You know how the bible says he speaks in a still, small voice? Well, it was like the decibel level had been turned up twenty notches. There was no question when he was speaking. no guessing of what he was saying. no doubt that I was hearing him correctly. Honestly, it's almost like everything else had been silenced by Heaven for this very sacred time between Jesus and me.

I'll never forget it.

Walking into the ER, there was another pregnant woman waiting to be taken up to Labor/Delivery. Jet told the people behind the counter that I was 5 centimeters yesterday, hinting that we were not up for a long, drawn out process of getting my information together. His insistence seemed to speed up their checking me in. Go, hon! So up we went... two pregnant women, together.

As I was wheeled down the hallway, I closed my eyes and envisioned myself going deeper and deeper into his presence. deeper into his authority. I couldn't help but to smile as God gently reminded me of a prophetic word spoken over our church the week prior. "No one will be safe from your favor."

I immediately started praying for the other woman's delivery. knowing that I was carrying the favor of God over my own...and felt God has given me the freedom and authority to speak that over her as well. That whole thing gave me a deep, inner joy. and an excitement for what was to come.

By 3:45AM, I was given a bed. And a nurse that, for some odd reason, decided NOT to give me the standard IV!! Can I get a *Hallelujah*!?

AND the exact midwife that had promised to be on-call for me was, oddly enough, at the hospital. Even though she wasn't scheduled to be there (at least according to what I was told the day before!!) Can I just say God is so into details!?!

She checked me...I was 8 centimeters dilated. almost completely effaced. and just waiting for my water to break. The plan was to break my water...but she had another woman in labor and said, "Since your so calm and at peace, would you mind if I check on my other laboring mom?" :)

While she was gone, I lay there worshipping. And I'm serious when I say it was intense, true worship. I had a hard time not belting out in song and going all charismatic on the labor/delivery floor. *wink*

At one point, the Lord flashed through my mind every single vision, promise, scripture, and word of encouragement that he had given us over the last few months. It was rapid fire. like I was watching a presentation of sorts.

And the last vision, the one that remained on the screen of my mind, was one of a massive warrior with a huge, Barbarian-like sword swinging over his head.

God had given it to me during our two-hour "Labor Session" on Labor Day. He said it represented me, warring in the spirit for victory over my daughters lives. and I believe over the lives of other pregnant women. I couldn't help but to smile. Jet later said he saw me smile and wondered what I was thinking.

After one hard contractions, I knew my cervix had dilated more and told the people in the room that Barbara should probably hurry. Thankfully she was walking down the hall to my room at that time. broke my water. and announced the baby's head was "right there". and that I was 9 1/2 centimeters.

And a half?! Who knew. That was 4:15 AM.

And there that little baby head remained for 45 minutes. As all contractions stopped. I had no urge to push. everything came to a calm and peaceful stand still.

It got to the point that it was funny. There I was, waiting for the urge to push. everyone watching me wait for the urge to push. my daughters in the background quietly working on paper dolls that my mom had brought for them. and little Lani was perfectly content to just hang out in the birth canal.

I remember thinking how she must have a completely different personality than Raegan. Because when I was delivering Raegan, the midwife actually told me NOT to push because the baby was coming on her own. Apparently I wasn't getting the job done fast enough (it was only about 10 minutes) And yes, that is still her personality to this day. She's a go-getter.

Yet. Alana wasn't in a rush. she was perfectly still. completely at peace with where she was.

But the atmosphere was so *joyful*. The nurse and I joked back and forth. The midwife joined in. Everyone in the room was laughing. It was like a fun little party.

Well, except there was no food. and I wasn't really dressed for company. *wry grin* but, you know, other than those small oversights... a party.

At one point, I mentioned to Barbara about pulling out the ol' vacuum. And while I was joking, I don't think I would've argued had she agreed. I was honestly not looking forward to pushing her out. It was like I had to get over a fear that played on the outskirts of my mind. But the Lord gently spoke to me, so clearly that it was like he was whispering in my ear:

"I told you what it would feel like. But you HAVE TO push through this, hon. Just trust me."

I have to mention that the way he addressed me changed once we were in the hospital. it went from him saying "Christin" to him using terms of endearment like "hon" and "sweetheart". I didn't tell Jet about it until hours later. At which point we were both so overwhelmed with the preciousness of it that tears came to our eyes. The Lord was so intimately present.

Finally, a little after 5 AM, I had the urge to push. I pushed just a bit. enough for them to see the tip of her little head. And then Barbara spoke up, "This is where you'll start to feel your body stretching."

I knew in that instance, I had a choice. A choice to receive what she had said over my body or draw a line in the sand. Before I had time to even process, I said, very casually, "I never feel that." Not taking her eyes away from mine, she had this incredulous look and said, "Well, that's a blessing! a huge blessing!" ... smiling, all I could say was "yeah. it really is."

Finally I got tired of not having her head out. I gave one push that caused her to crown. though I had to ask for someone to let me know that she was really out since I didn't feel anything. (yay, Jesus!)

They assured me she was. So I lay there for a minute. Gave a couple of pulsating pushes like the nurse was instructing. Then decided: Enough is enough. I'm done with this. Lord, I'm trusting you. I'm pushing through. I'm not backing down. If I tear, I tear. (I didn't by the way) But you said it'd be fine. So here goes.

And I gave one big push.

All I remember is Barbara saying, "Good job, Christin! Okay, There's her...Wait! Wait!! Hold on! Woah! Woah Woah Woah" And she literally flew out. All At Once.

Born 5:16 AM.

But because Jet wanted to technically deliver her (pull her out), Barbara sort of held in whatever part of Alana she could for him. And Jet, who was still in shock that we literally went from nothing to everything in a matter of seconds, just stood there. staring.

Until I yelled, "JEEETT. Pull. Her. Out." A little later I joked him, "I've done my part. Do yours!" ;)

Yes, it was painfree. It was like my stomach had been supernaturally numbed; I felt nothing there. I felt nothing pushing her out. I didn't tear. The only thing I felt were the back contractions: my back muscles would tighten up. I could feel them working hard. but it wasn't painful. just intense.

I would just have Jet put counterpressure on my lower back and all was well. So basically he wasn't able to take his hand away from my back. I gave his finger muscles a workout. seriously. So I suppose he did his part too, eh? :)

............

I know I haven't done justice to what all happened. I think I have to come to terms with the fact that I won't be able to at this point. There's just too much. But for now, here it is. A quick summary of the first part of our Supernatural Delivery.

Next up. The Huge Miracle no one saw coming....

Journey of Faith-

Putting It All Out There

This has been a fairly stretching process for me. To not only advertise, via the web, what miracle we were fully expecting from the Lord, but to also journal the large majority of my thoughts, doubts, victories, and questions throughout the process.

All there in black and white. for the world to read. and to judge.

When the Lord first asked me to blog the fact that His Cross canceled out all sorrow and sickness...especially the ones associated with birth...and to share my personal story in it, I wasn't sold on the idea.

Are you sure, Lord? Cause really...I got loads of other testimonies I could share. Remember? I especially like the one about the lame woman. I could totally tell that one. Dontcha think? ...No?

Though I'm a fairly "out there" person, I knew from personal experience that birth stories, in and of themselves, are a very personal, intimate matter. I knew that I could be perceived as being judgemental if someone had less than a painfree birth. I knew that I may very well step on toes and hurt feelings. I knew that my story could quite possibly cause others to question God in their own lives.

None of the things I'm real hip on doing, you know?

But the fact remained, the Lord's truth is the Lord's truth. not speculation. theory. or wishful thinking. He wasn't asking me to offend people. He was asking me to share His Truth made evident in my life. manifest in my labor and deliveries. How could I say No and still live with myself?

So, I wrote the first blog. sharing my heart, in all its vulnerability. my testimony, in all its power.

Whew. Okay, Lord, that wasn't so bad. Alrighty. Passed that test. Time to relax. Would ya hand me a pina colada, please?

But He had other plans... He then asked me, months later, to be very public with what I was praying and believing for during this last pregnancy. as I was praying. in the midst of warring for it.

For real? Lord, don't I get a rest period or something? Can't I wait until after the delivery to share? That'd be soooo much nicer. Kind of hit them with the end *Ba-da-bing* result instead of ...uh, boring them with the process. Right?! ...No?

So I began to write. to press in. to put my faith in the very place that it needs to be on a daily basis in order to be strengthened: Up Against A Challenge.

In this case, the challenge of a daily, public viewing.

And THEN my oldest girls go and decide that they want to be a part of the delivery. Okay. I like the sounds of that. Quality family time. Woo-Hoo! I'm all over it. Until I found out that in order for them to be in the room, they each had to have an adult present with them during the entire birth.

Oh yippee. A live audience as well as an internet one. Lord!?

My friend, Jolanthe, joked me once...referring to my birthing room like it was a restaurant table. "Party of Eight. Right this way!" :)

And though it made me really laugh...that was what it felt like. Like I'd be on display. As well as my faith. Can I get a collective "Ew"?!

Hm. A little quality time with my family...plus some. Lord? Are you working on a theme here? Cause really, I'm thinking I like being the more private person when it comes to my faith. You know...You. Me. The Holy Spirit. and God. We're fun group of people; it'll be quite the party. Can't we just be exclusive for a short season?Say...nine months? Then I promise to come out shouting your praise. telling of your good works.

What's that you say? that's not true faith? I need to proclaim the things I'm yet to see as though they were? You do know you're killing me here, God. Oh, that's the point? Nice.

The Lord spoke to my heart about the people who pray for miraculous healings, completely expecting to see them. He pointed out how they, first, have to make the decision to put it out there in public, vocalized prayer. Calling forth healing. And then trusting that God is who He said He is. that He would do what He promises to do.

He told me that because those people step out, He has the room to step up. HE would be the one on display. Not me.

"What I tell you in the dark, utter in the light." Matthew 10:27

And so I began to blog on a somewhat regular basis. Choosing (as I wrote in my journal) to be:

"...sick of aligning my life with fear of tomorrow. There's no fruit in that. And I refuse to be saturated by that faithless thinking.

So I want to bring my faith to a deeper depth. if need be, to a public realm where others can be encouraged. ...as they walk with me on this Faith Journey..."

So the last few months have been...um, shall we say "fun"? sharing with you this process of digging deeper into the Well of Faith. I pray that you've been encouraged to embrace that which God is challenging you to believe Him for. He IS a God who remains true to His Word. All of it.

Next post, I'll finally get to share the labor and delivery details.... You know, the *Ba-Da-Bing* reveal that I've been waiting for. :)

Happy Birthday to Me

...Because on my 32nd birthday, God decided to give me a present: Alana Joy.


Born September 16th. 5:16 AM. Weighing in at 6lbs. 10.8 oz.

The birth story definitely is one of the sweetest thus far. Full of amazing times of worship between just the Lord and me...some surprises that made me laugh...some that made me cry...

But that story will have to wait until I find the brain power to function on a level where complete sentences come easily. At this particular moment in time, I am sleep-deprived. hormonally challenged. and prone to cry.

...My friend, Sarah, came to drop off some amazing dinner. When I came downstairs to say hey, she asked me a question. nothing sensitive. nothing personal. But I cried. Right there. On the spot.

Lovely little hormonal moment shared with an unsuspecting friend who was just trying to be sweet. *groan*

So for now, I'll just leave you with a picture of my newest love. My BLOND daughter!?!

Little Lani...

Update

Yes, the picture stinks. but it was all I could get. Notice the MP3 player attached to my shirt. I was jamming hardcore to worship, as we got stuff ready to go to the hospital...most likely tomorrow. Picture taken 38 weeks 1 day... 157lbs.

I'm back from the OB office, where the midwife checked me.

As of 11:00am, I was 5 centimeters, 70% effaced, and -2 station. She said that she could feel the baby's head and the only reason Lani wasn't lower was because my water was yet to break. Basically the bag of water was keeping her in. :)

No, I'm not at the hospital writing this. I'm home, as I'm yet to go into labor. We're just waiting, watching, and worshipping. Reveling in the fact that God has answered so many prayers and stayed true to everything He's told us thus far.

God has been downloading lots of stuff into my heart. but for now...this is all I have the desire and mental energy to write.

A Light at the End of the Tunnel

Yes. I'm completely demented. But, what can I say? It so cracked me up. :)



I'm at Week 38. And having fairly hard contractions...fairly regularly. Though I've never been one to have consistent anything until right before the baby comes out. And I tend to dilate without knowing it...

So at this point, it's all about Wait and See. But at least I know I'm closer than I was yesterday. And my body is gearing up for...sometime in the near future. :)

I just continue to prepare and wait.

Parenthood Thoughts 101

A few friends of mine have recently emailed me asking what advice I'd give them regarding motherhood. Some are expecting their first babies. Others their second child.


First off let me say that I'm quite assured that simply having children doesn't qualify anyone to dole out parental advice like we've "arrived" at Omnipotent Knowledge! If anything, the more children I have, the more I realize the depths of my cluelessness outside of God's grace.

But because you asked, I'll try to write up a few of the things that have helped me.

**WARNING: This is a personal opinion. If some readers don't agree, no sweat. I'll just promise not to parent your children. Agreed? :)




1. Though it is very tempting to start digesting everything written on babies and their tendencies, I'd try not to. For this simple reason alone. It may very well give you indigestion.

Every baby is different. Thus, there's no set formula. Just as you cannot compare your pregnancy to some rigid rules of what definitely will or will not happen, the same goes with your growing child. There cannot be a stringent "normal". Every child has their own inner clock when it comes to each mile marker: when they roll over, walk, talk, etc. and how well they preform each task.

That said, my oldest child couldn't say the "L" sound until she was 5 years old. My youngest? She's been saying it since she was 12 months old. Who knows why. It's just one of the many ways they are different. BUT...

Had Charis been my third child (following behind two sisters who said the "L" sound beautifully from early on), I may've been tempted to think she had some sort of speech problem (and consequently cause her to think she had a problem). But bottom line, she didn't. Either her mouth/palate needed to develop further or her brain was too preoccupied with other learning pursuits. All I know is that in the end everything's panned out.

So just try not to obsess over the developmental details. especially just because your child doesn't do what your best friend's child does.


2. On that note, do NOT compare your mothering style to another's. This is a Pit that houses the world of emotions known as self-pity, self-hatred, pride, judgement, jealousy, anxiety, depression,... You get the point.

Take it from me, it's a bad place. A no-man's land. For in this pit, there is just enough space for one. Isolating and imprisoning you, no matter where you feel you rank on the scale of things.

Every mother has her own "way." And what parenting style (disciple comes to mind) may work for one child may very well fall flat for another child. It's called the need to rely on Heavenly Wisdom.

And know what I've found? I have to constantly reevaluate my parenting for each child with each new phase that individual child goes through. Because it's not only a matter of saying that what I did for Charis's baby stage does not work for Raegan's baby stage. It's also the fact that what I did with Charis last year, no longer works for Charis this year.

Parenthood. The God-ordained ever-evolving adventure that drives you to your knees. So pray. Lots.




3. My children (and me!) tend to like schedules/boundaries. My Littles feel better knowing what's coming so they can emotionally prepare.

One way I would help my younger children ward off emotional outbursts was giving them plenty of warning when a "change" was coming. Like when preparing to leave a playdate. or going to bed. basically anything that would call for them to stop what they're doing in order to switch to something else. (which can be very unsettling to little ones)

Like: "Okay, Charis...you're going to go to bed in about 20 minutes. Alright? So just a little more time to play." And then I'd warn her again and again and again until it's finally time to say "Alright, CareBear. It's bedtime now."

By then she was emotionally ready and thus, usually willing to comply. And then we'd go through her bedtime routine to help her body and mind winddown.

For bedtime, we've used a noise maker of some kind while they sleep. Either a CD of instrumental music playing softly...or a white noise maker (can be bought at WalMart...or turn a fan on high) that drowns out the other sounds in the house. What has made this especially successful for us is that it's portable. So we can take it wherever we go, bringing with us a familiar sleeping atmosphere.



4. But as far as schedules go, I never knocked myself out trying to get my newborns on a stringent one. I realize that some parents need to based on working outside of the home and keeping their sanity in place. Or people who have twins and need to juggle two infants' demands at once! (Hey, Suz! *wink*) But because I have always been at home with my infant, I had the freedom to let them show me what their preferred schedule was. as it evolved. You know, like when they were hungry. When they were tired...

Then after writing down what the baby did for a week or so, I'd start to see a pattern emerge that I could reinforce. Like putting them down at the same time everyday or at least at the same time intervals every day (ie. an hour after eating lunch, etc). This has worked amazingly well for all three of our littles ones so far.



5. Don't be afraid to let your child cry it out at bedtime. Eventually they do stop. And ideally, they learn to self-comfort and self-entertain.

I remember my first child would cry for well over an hour at times. But once she "got it' that I wasn't coming back, she would put herself to sleep. And eventually she'd ask to go to bed and wouldn't cry at all. (that said, hang in there! it is worth it in the end).

The timeframe that I start doing this whole cry-it-out theme honestly depends on my sanity level at the time and the child's personality. Though I know that I had to work myself up to the place where I could just let them cry for long spurts of time. Meaning, I'd let them cry for 5 minutes. Then 10 minutes the next time. Etc. Some say this is to help the baby...for me, it's to build MY "immunity" towards their pitiful cry.

My plan with Raegan once Alana is born? To continue putting her down for TWO naps even if, by that time, she thinks she's ready to give up one. My logic? She still needs some downtime away from her sisters. As well as me needing some away time from her. A little give and take goes a long ways in the happiness of momma! :)

Plus, it doesn't hurt her. If anything it's teaching her to be content without constant entertainment (two older sisters and an ever-present mommy).

Even as I type this, I can hear her in her crib talking and playing by herself before going to sleep. (when she's old enough to start interacting with toys, I have a hardback book and a couple of toys in her bed to help in the whole entertaining theme).


6. Speaking of cribs... I wouldn't recommend putting your young child in his/her bed for TimeOut.

Some people do this because it ensures the child cannot leave their naughty spot. But I never have and most likely never will. (unless my parenting has to drastically change based on the personality of a child I'm yet to meet???).

In my mind, a bed is a place of rest. a place where you are supposed to feel safe, protected, and peaceful so that sleep can come. I'm thinking that if the child spends excessive amounts of time in their bed screaming because they've been bad and are emotionally keyed up and angry...the brain may very well program itself to have a hard time relaxing when it IS time to sleep in the crib.




Uh...I'm thinking that's all I got right now. But rest assured, I truly believe that the Lord gives Moms (and dads) a Heavenly Download when Baby is born. And though lots of counsel is wonderful and amazing and helpful, God designed you and your spouse to be the parent and therefore will equip you to THE best parent that little one.

Our Saturday

Yes. Still pregnant. :)

This is officially the longest I've ever been pregnant (by a couple of days). Tomorrow (or the next day or so?) I turn 38 weeks.

Last I was checked, I was only 3 centimeters and 30% effaced (WHO knew you could actually thicken back up?!!!!!) I literally had to will myself not to cry right there in the OB room when my midwife told me that. AND that she'd be out of town and couldn't be on-call for me. AND that the medical person that I was so wanting to avoid would be on call the entire weekend.

But by the time I was half-way home, God had infused my heart with peace. Truly. Deeply. I knew if I happened to go into labor, I really didn't care who was on call. because my peace would not be effected by their attitude or interaction with me.

And that revelation was so sweet. so personal. I mean, a huge inner healing had to take place in my heart. because months ago, just my thinking about her delivering another baby would literally cause a physical stress-reaction. (Yeah, it was that bad.)

Anyway

This morning, as I bantered back and forth with God about whether or not I'd have the baby this morning or go to yardsales, He said some "snide" comment about me wanting it all that literally made me laugh outloud. He's a funny one, let me tell you. ;)

Yet. I knew from his "picking" that today was going to be one of blessing for us. via yardsales.

Not that I think my blogging audience is waiting with baited breath about my yardsale finds. But I AM! ;) And it only screams of the absolute favor and blessing of God on our finances.

Because we NEEDED to buy Charis winter clothes. and I'm thinking this weekend may be it for yardsales this season. Which would mean we'd have to...*gasp*... buy new if it came down to it.

So for my own enjoyment ...because yes, I'm ALL About getting excited over yardsale deals!!!...here are my Bargain Finds. Most of the things were for Charis... being the girl that has no one passing stuff down to her. *grin* And ALL of it is LIKE NEW and brand name, as I'm very picky about what we buy, even at garage sales.

******
2 coats (Columbia and Outbrook)
3 like new dresses (Gymboree and boutique shops)
9 shorts (all name brand and like new)
4 pairs of shoes (again, all like new. Mary Kate and Ashely. Sketchers)
3 skirts
1 pair tights
double-sided closet organizer....


*****
22 shirts (all name brand and like NEW. AH!)
Christmas stocking
2 newborn sleeper outfits...

******
6 sweaters
4 PJ sets for fall/winter
pair PJ pants
maternity shirt
6 pairs of long pants...

Honestly, I didn't even have the heart to try and figure up how much we saved. Just looking on the Old Navy and Gymboree (etc etc) websites made my head spin. How do people afford to clothe their children without doing yardsales and Goodwill?! Seriously?


But I can say that after looking on the sites, I know it was hundredS AND hundredS of dollars worth of stuff. All that we got for $70. With my parents (who met up with us at one point) paying for $30 of that! Can't beat that! Thanks Mom and Dad!



Jesus, your blessings on our life... I will not take them for granted. THANK YOU. And I totally acknowledge that had we gone into labor (or already had Alana), we would have never ventured out to yardsales. AND therefore, would still be in need of winter clothes for Charis. You truly are into the details. Even the ones that I would have never thought to think of!

In and Out of Season

*Mentally, I'm drained. Emotionally, I got nothing. Physically, I'm pretty much great. unless I go and do something daring like...oh say, climb the stairs. :) Spiritually, I feel like I can dig no more. kind of like when you've studied and studied for a test and to look at the text book one. more. time. will only confuse you. The whole scenerio of either you know it or you don't kind of thing.

So since I got nothing of intelligence in this moment...for memory sake...here's a part of a letter I wrote to a friend last week. It's pretty much describing where I'm at in this whole Season of Waiting (regarding the pending delivery)

"...preach the word, be urgent in and out of season, convince, rebuke, and exhort, be unfailing in patience and in teaching." 2 Timothy 4:2 (some translations replace "urgent" with either earnest or instant or ready).

Dear XXXX
You know that scripture "be ready in and out of season"? I've been thinking on it recently. Because really...how tiring is that?!

I figure that's pretty much the season I'm living in right now...the being ready and on alert every day. YET not sure when I'm actually NEEDING to be ready, but having to be ready all the same.

Can you say draining?!

Packing my (and the girls') hospital suitcases everyday. Loading and unloading them into the car (since it's stuff we need on a daily basis too). Making sure that we can all leave the house at a moment's notice, which is next to impossible with three little ones. Making sure that my spirit and mind are built up and ready to receive from the Lord. etc etc....

So my question is HOW do we get to the place where being constantly on alert and ready doesn't completely deplete us of any and all strength? Because I'm thinking...what's the point of being ready "in and out of season" if you're just going to be comatose when "the time" comes, you know?

God can't expect or want us to be a bunch of weak soldiers.

"Uh, sorry, God. I'm reporting for duty. You know, since it's Time and all. But FYI, I'm REALLY tired because I've had to be ready in and out of season for...well, a looonnng time now. So in body, here I am. But that's all I got to offer. Hope you're cool with that."

That can't be right. Can it?

Seriously, I don't get it. This whole being ready...in an urgent, instantaneous-response-required kind of way. And yet. still having the mental sanity and spiritual strength to be of any good. I'm hoping he downloads Wisdom regarding all of this into me soon.

But for now, all I can do is trust. and continue to blindly walk forward, pressing into His Presence. making sure that I am ready (as He continually tells me to "go get ready"!!). believing that when the time comes.... when His Outpouring pours forth with a "Ready or not, here I come!" shout... I can say "I am ready. Bring it."

and then, I will be infused with a Heavenly strength.

Yearn

This song, by Shane and Shane, has recently become one of my favorites. For it ignites my heart, as it speaks what I feel so deeply.


"Holy Design, This place in time. That I might seek and find my God..."

Though my body and my emotions yearn for the end of this pregnancy and for holding my precious daughter, my spirit wants to yearn like that for My God. Daily.

forever expecting *Something* to be birthed from the Spirit. in my life.

always in the position of watching and waiting to see what LIFE God will bring forth in this day. in this hour.

Above all, Lord...I want to yearn for You.

Assumptions

One of the first things that the Lord has challenged me in...with this whole giving up of control...has been something rather unexpected: MY ASSUMPTIONS

For real, Lord? I was sort of expecting it to be more along the lines of ...oh, I don't know.... something a little more tangible, maybe? Like how I spend my time or some obvious attitude adjustment that needs to take place. But no. You go and bring up "assumptions"?

So my initial thought? Alright, Lord. So you're talking about judgements or prejudices here, right? I get it. We both know that those, on any level, are never healthy. Racial, social or religious ones, it doesn't matter. Making assumptions about someone based on exterior information isn't fair.

You know. Like:

They look different from me, so....

They homeschool their children, so the kids must be socially stunted and a bit on the slow side...

They're on welfare, so they must be lazy...

She prettier than the other girl, therefore she must be more fun...

He has tattoos and body piercings. Quick, lock your door... On and on our assumptions freely fly.

Okay, Lord. I didn't think I held those views in my heart, but I understand. Help me to ...

Except, He finally interrupts me and my lightning speed I-got-it-all-figured-out mindset. Only to further explain his thoughts regarding assumptions. at least the ones that I am to give up:

Assumptions of what I think others think about me.

Say what?

Uh-huh. That's right, Smart Girl. Far too often you let what you assume others think or feel about you to be your grid. regarding how you approach them...or refrain from approaching them. And it's got to stop.

*crickets chirp in the distance*

I sit there. sort of soaking it all in. It's so not what I expected. Assumptions. Who knew? And then just when I think I have that figured out, he goes and throws me another curve ball. Assumptions...but not about other's lives, but about other's assumptions about my life?!

The whole thing sounds migraine-inducing, doesn't it?

Yet. Even now, I know that it's true. I can see where I assume someone feels a certain way about me...whether good or bad...and respond to them accordingly. where I allow myself to create some sort of judgement based on an inward insinuation regarding how they perceive me...and then I either embrace them. or cut them off at the proverbial knees.

Relationally speaking and all. I speak of only machetes-of-the-mind. ;)



So now what? ...Yeah. Not sure. but that's the exciting part of being in relationship with the Lord, isn't it? He leads us step by step. He's good like that.

Even when I assume that he's not.

And yes, I'm sure I have some major assumptions about his outlook on me and my life as well. Things that will get exposed in the not-to-distant future. In fact, I'm counting on it.

Update

"There are no victories at discount prices." General Dwight Eisenhower

Jet and I continue to press in for that which the Lord has promised us. It's been the hardest and longest battle we've fought thus far. and the deepest.

I don't know how else to explain it. Maybe after the birth, it'll be more clear?

But for now, all I know is that we are pressing in for Victory. And that takes a willingness to battle. even WHEN we have the Lord's promise.

Take Joshua leading the Israelites to the Promised Land, for instance. That victory was no cake walk either...

And so we roll up our sleeves and continue to fight. Even though, admittedly, I am beyond weary.

The Hospital Detour. of sorts.

THE TRIP:

This morning, as I sat worshipping in my room...out of no where, an unnerving thought hit my heart.

"Something isn't right. The baby hasn't moved."

Now, Little Lani Girl is a Mover and a Shaker. I rarely have to sit still to do a "fetal count"...because she's always moving. But this morning, she hadn't. At all.

Sitting back on my bed and trying to remain at peace, I started to talk to her...move her as hard as I could...anything to get her to respond. Nothing.

Immediately, I called Jet. He prayed and as soon as he came against the spirit of fear, she moved. But just a bit.

I got off the phone relieved that I saw some movement, but still not at peace. "Do I call the midwives? don't I? I have an appointment tomorrow. So I can wait until then. She's probably okay."

On and on my mind raced. But then it rested on what a midwife had said months ago. "If you feel anything out of the ordinary...I don't care what it is....call us."

So I picked up the phone and dialed the OB office. Just to run it by them. Especially since I've recently noticed that I've lost weight, taking me back to where I was a few weeks ago.

They told me to come in. And eventually sent me to the hospital because her heart rate was dipping. and her amniotic fluid was low. They assured me that the whole hospital trip was cautionary. but I was having to fight to remain at peace.

For the next two hours, I was hooked up to monitors so the L/D nurses could keep tabs on Lani's heartbeat. As I was trying to keep tabs on the Heartbeat of the Father. pressing myself as close to His Chest as I could.

Everything looks fine. In fact, she's got a great heart beat!? I was sent home with strict instructions to rest. and drink like a fish.



THE REVELATION:

One thing that I sensed as we entered the hospital was the anxiety. fear. and hopeless. It was like I could literally feel it when we walked into the building. I can only explain it by comparing it to a fog.

Ever been driving down the road and look over to the side, seeing a patch of low-lying fog? It just sits there. resting over a certain spot. so thick that you are unable to see that which it covers.

Well, it felt like that. Like we had walked into a thick haze.

But the Lord kept bringing to mind the time spent with Him yesterday. the work that I know He did for me. the spiritual equipping that took place (I saw it in a pretty stinkin' cool vision). ;)

And I knew I didn't have to succumb to the haze. I could be the like the gale-force wind that forcibly drives it back.

And right then and there, I decided that I really want to be a person who changes the atmosphere when I enter a room. Like Paul. His presence was so saturated in the manifest presence of God, that his shadow healed people.

Meaning, if you were to see into the spiritual realm, Paul's very shadow drove back the forces of evil. causing an immediate "undoing" of their destruction (in this case sickness and disease) to take place.

I want that.

I want to be so saturated in the Presence of God that the next time I walk into that hospital, I will not only remain at rest, but there will be an outpouring of peace that extends to those near me. For His Glory.



THE PROGRESS:

While I was there, Barbara checked me to see how far along things were progressing. Currently, I'm at 2 cm. -2 station. 50% effaced and "very very soft".

Which, as she said, could mean I could deliver tonight. or sometime this month. ;) Ah yes, those vague specifics. So comforting.

But at least I know something is happening. Because after today, I am very ready to be done with this whole last leg of pregnancy.

A Laboring of the Spirit

Though I was hoping that maybe today would be a true "labor day", it was not. Rather, the Lord invited me, mid-afternoon, to labor with him in the spirit instead...

I was almost done cleaning up the kitchen when I suddenly got this urge to spend time with the Lord. It just seemed too perfect of an opportunity to miss: Jet was off today... working on school work. the older girls were playing. Raegan was napping. and I was basically doing nothing.

And as soon as I moved in the direction to Get Away with the Lord, He spoke:

"Use this time to labor with me in prayer. Let's do the work part of it. Together. Now."

Excitement and anticipation immediately hit my spirit. So for the next two hours, that's exactly what He and I did. We labored together over the pending birth. It was peaceful. radical. awesome.

Maybe one day I'll be able to use mere words to describe all that happened? or maybe not. Either way. Large things happened. Deep things. Things that cannot be described, only experienced.

About an hour into it, as I sat on my bed in prayer and praise, my eyes fell to a scripture where my Bible had been randomly lying open. It read:

"No eye has seen a God besides you, who WORKS for those who wait on him." Isaiah 64:4

It literally took my breath away. For it was like reading something that had been written thousands of years ago...for me. In this moment!

I was pressing into him. He was doing the work for me. It was that easy.

Hours after the fact, Jet even mentioned how there was a Spirit of Peace on me like never before. *sigh of contentment*

And suddenly, the whole Labor Day theme took on a whole new meaning for me.