I took the test.  Two pink lines appeared.  One was faint, but the instructions made it clear that even a faint line was a line and the test was positive.  I took a picture to commemorate the moment, and later looked back at the picture to really make sure both lines were there.  That was Tuesday.

At 3:00 this morning, I was up nursing Ava and I felt the bleeding start.  I laid Ava down, hoping I was wrong.  But I wasn’t wrong.

It was less than four days of knowing for sure.  But it was long enough for my heart to become attached.  It was long enough for a mindset shift and for endless thoughts of what the next eight months would bring.  It was long enough to add in another little one to my prayer times.  It was long enough to think about what life would be like with six.  It was long enough for my heart to break when I realized it wouldn’t be, after all.

Somehow, though, I wasn’t entirely surprised.  Maybe it’s just because it has happened twice before and I have a hard time expecting the best when I know there’s a very real possibility of the worst.  Maybe it’s because of how much this past week reminded me of how I felt the last time when it was going to end in the worst…how it seemed like my body was desperately trying to fix something that was going horribly wrong.  Or, maybe, God was gently preparing me so that I wouldn’t be completely blindsided.  I don’t know that half-expecting it makes it any easier, though.

…

When I woke up this morning, Caedmon was all ready for the day, and had gotten Elijah bathed and dressed, too.  They both hugged me, which was kind of unusual.  They had no idea; we hadn’t told them – or anyone – about the baby that was on the way.  It reminded me that God can make grace abound in the hardest moments.

…

Trust in the Lord with all your heart, And lean not on your own understanding;  In all your ways acknowledge Him, And He shall direct your paths. — Proverbs 3:5-6

Tomorrow, Ava will be 11 months old.  11 months.  It went so fast.  Yet, it is clear that she is well past her newborn days.  She’s walking.  She tries talking – mamamama, dadadada, gogogogo (when cheering for Daddy at softball), hi, gone, and lots of very animated babbling.  She loves food.  Her Daddy is her favorite playmate.  She puts everything in her mouth (much like her older sister did before her) but I think her foot finds its way there more than anything else.  She crawls up stairs and loves bathtime.  She wakes up many times a night (ironically, very unlike her newborn days) and naps little.  It is easy tell when she is tired because she [almost literally] starts bouncing off the walls.  She is mischievous and charming and loud and stubborn and beautiful.

I love her.

I’ve sort of refrained from writing about my garden this year, fearing I could end up sounding like a broken record from years past.  Nevertheless, it does consume a fair amount of my thought and attention these days, so here are some random snippets about my garden.

:: Japanese beetles.  Ick.  They did a small amount of damage last year, but didn’t actually ruin anything, so I left them alone when I first saw them a couple months ago.  That was a mistake.  My cabbage plants have been decimated, and the beetles are attacking my summer squash and zucchini with swarms of their larva.  Gross.  I hate bugs.  They’re gonna have to go.

:: Septoria leaf spot (I think) on my tomatoes.  Probably due to a combination of the rain, and my procrastination that has led to only one plant being staked up so far.  So I’ve had to prune every few days to get rid of the affected branches.  I’m not actually sure that it is entirely pointful, but it helps my peace of mind to not see wilting leaves on my tomato plants.

:: Weeds.  They’re everywhere.  Always.  Whenever I am pulling weeds, my thoughts inevitably turn to the many parallels between sin and weeds and necessity of being vigilant with bringing both into submission, lest they prevent good fruit from growing.  I could go into much greater depth of comparison, but I will spare you my analysis.  It’s nothing novel, I’m sure.

:: Eating vegetables.  I am not a vegetable lover by nature, which, oddly, I’m only just now fully realizing.  There are a few that I love…tomatoes, bell peppers, broccoli, corn, beets (weird, right?) and [my new favorite] sugar snap peas…but pretty much everything else falls into the ‘I should eat this because it’s good for me’ category.  Cabbage, carrots, lettuce, spinach, kale (okay, any leafy green), all squash, cauliflower, turnips, beans – they’re all acquired tastes, at best, and using up all that we have (which seems like a lot, between our garden and the CSA) can be difficult when, sometimes, I just want a cheeseburger.

:: Harvesting strawberries.  Well, not any more…but we did.  About a gallon, total.  We had some pest eat a bunch of them, and we left the runners on, which supposedly sacrifices fruit volume, but will hopefully result in more plants next year.  This was really exciting for me, and the berries were so good.  Some things in my garden just make me feel spoiled.  Strawberries are one of those things.

:: Time alone.  One of the unexpected joys of my garden this year is the opportunity it occasionally affords me of being able to head outside while little ones nap and big ones read to just be by myself – pulling weeds, harvesting veggies, or pruning tomato plants.  I can sing, or pray, or just think, for sometimes an hour or more, without interruption.  I can’t describe how much this has blessed me on days when my attitude has needed adjusting, or my heart has been heavy, or I’ve just been tired and in need of a break.  I’m thankful for the way God can take a not-so-pleasant-task, and pour out grace to me in the midst of it.

I am not a lover of dirt or bugs or sweat, and even less a lover of those things in combination.  But I love my garden in spite of all of that.  I love to see God’s provision and creative power.  I love to see fruit borne in the midst of imperfection.  I love knowing that, at the end of the day, no matter how much I weed, water and prune, it isn’t my effort that makes something grow, it’s His.  Even if I never got to benefit from my garden’s bounty, that reminder alone would be enough of a reason to love it.

After dinner tonight, I loaded all five kids into the van and set off to pick blueberries while Tim was busy soldering copper pipe.  I’d never done berry picking of any kind before, and the thought of doing something new, on my own, with little ones in tow was, honestly, a bit intimidating.  But, I wanted berries and picking our own was going to be a much better deal, so I was determined that, somehow, it would happen.  I was prepared for a sweaty, buggy, arguing-and-complaining-children-the-whole-time couple of hours.

What I got was simply God’s lavish grace.

The weather was perfect…70 degrees, no bugs, a cool breeze.  My children were unbelievably well behaved.  One even exclaimed, “this is the most fun I have ever had in my entire life!”.  They were having fun…and not in a wild, disobedient, loud kind of way, but in a productive, conscientious, calm kind of way.  I never once wanted to scream or pull my hair out.  In fact, when we had finished our first eight quarts, we were all game for getting another four quarts picked before closing time.  Everyone worked hard…even Ava sat [mostly] contentedly in her stroller for 2 hours (!).  I had a few moments of wondering when my luck was going to run out, but more than a few moments of being overwhelmed with thankfulness.

I need reminders sometimes, you know?  Reminders that things can go even better than expected.  Reminders that my kids really are blessings.  Reminders that God cares enough to bless me at times when I don’t deserve it, but need it most.  I miss the good in a lot of things.  It is rare for me to come away from any situation without seeing something that could have gone better.  But driving home tonight, all I could see was the goodness of God poured out to me.  Words can’t express my amazement at even this finite glimpse I get of all that He is.  He is glorious and gracious and loving and so much more and better than I could ever hope to describe.

And I get to spend eternity with Him.

The sermon in church yesterday was about being a pro-life people.  It was a welcome reminder about God’s design and love for each life.  And it made me think about not just those lost to abortion, but to those mothers (and fathers) who made such a devastating choice for their child.  While I know that there are those who, sadly, have never felt remorse or regret for their decision, my guess (and what others have said to be so) is that many are left with tremendous guilt.

I was thinking about this in light of the gospel.  I thought about how, as good as the news of God’s grace and forgiveness is, it can be so hard to receive and really walk in on a daily basis.  I wondered how someone gets past the grief of having participated in the death of an innocent child, to find the freedom that is promised in Christ.

As I prayed and thought about it, I was reminded of King David – his adultery with Bathsheba, her pregnancy, the murder of Uriah, and the judgment God brought on them in the death of their son.  While not exactly the same scenario, it is a story of sin and consequence.  David did things that were abhorrent in the eyes of the Lord.  Two innocent people died.  David and Bathsheba suffered a very real and deeply painful repercussion in the loss of their son.

But, there was repentance and forgiveness.

The relationship between David and the Lord was not lost.  And the biggest thing I saw as I thought about this story is that God used it for good…for Israel, and for all of humanity.  This adultery, this pregnancy, this murder of Uriah, led to David taking Bathsheba as his wife.  She later bore him Solomon, whom the Bible says was wiser than any who came before or after him, who built the temple for the Lord, who was a blessing to the nation of Israel.  And generations later, from the lineage of Solomon, Jesus was born.  The sin-soaked story was turned to one of purpose and redemption and hope.

The child, lost to his parents, was, nevertheless, used by God.

It is an amazing picture of God’s love and faithfulness to David, even in the face of David’s failings.  It is God proving Himself and His purposes greater than our sin.  It is a glimpse at God’s heart to restore and redeem and bring something beautiful from the ugliest of circumstances.  I pray that this grace -that goes beyond even the freedom from sin’s consequence, that establishes destiny in the midst of failure – would sink deep into the hearts of those who have felt the tormenting sting and condemnation that comes with the choice to end a life.  In this grace – in this God – is abundant life, peace that passes knowledge and joy unspeakable.  His goodness is beyond comprehension.

It is really easy for me to get discouraged by the lack of progress I sometimes see in our house (literal house).  We have been here almost 3 years, and everywhere I look are projects needing to be done…overwhelming in the time, thought and expense that will be necessary to accomplish them.  I have a hard time remembering what we have managed to do.  So, a list:

– This house was set up as a 2-family when we moved in.  We have taken out doors, walls, bookshelves and a bathroom to make it usable as a single family home again.

– The driveway used to be higher than our basement windows (and right next to our basement windows), causing water to literally pour into the basement.  Tim moved and re-graded the driveway to help remedy this.

– The front steps needed to be rebuilt to conform to insurance requirements.

– We have done lots of gardening.  There is currently a large-ish (I would guess about 15×35?) garden, another smaller (15×5?) garden, an herb/lettuce garden, an asparagus patch, a strawberry patch, blueberry bushes, black raspberry bushes, 3 apple trees and a cherry tree…all that we have added.  And there has been other non-vegetable/fruit gardening besides.

– The attic has been insulated.

– Tim had to make a spot for our washer and dryer in a heated and insulated part of the house, which required running new plumbing and electric.

– New footers and posts have been added to the basement to help level our slanted floors.  This was particularly challenging given the very wet nature of our basement.

– Tim dug a trench around the interior basement wall to help with the water issue.

– New support posts were added on the first floor to provide a more proper weight-bearing structure.  This also required removing a wall and putting in a large header.

– The upstairs portion of the back of the house has been mostly gutted.  Water damage from years of a leaking roof and windows basically destroyed the walls and floors.  The second story porch roof, and the dormer and part of the roof on one side were torn off, and [hopefully only temporarily] covered with OSB to stop the leaking until a plan can be formulated and executed for fixing the back portion of the house.

– Ugly, gross carpeting was ripped up in one of the kitchens.

– Random wiring has been replaced.

– The current bathroom project has required electric, plumbing, tiling, floor levelling, venting (which required chiseling through our foot thick brick wall), and wall building…with more hopefully to be done in the next few weeks.

That’s all I can think of at the moment.  In all of this, though, it has been our aim to not let the house projects be our priority.  Obviously, there are times when things have to be done.  We can’t leave the house in its current state – it would literally start falling down.  But our children, our family, and any opportunities to serve have always been put first.  It’s true that there have been times when motivation has waned and progress has been slow for no other reason than our own soul-weariness.  And there have been times when actually figuring out what the “next thing” should be is challenging…especially when there are so many whole-house issues that need addressing, and the decision maker likes to thoroughly analyze everything first to make sure every project is done with excellence.  Plus, really, most projects just take a long time when there’s pretty much only one person working on them.

But, in my tendency to become histrionic and in my very real fear that the house is falling apart faster than we can fix it, I occasionally need to take a moment to ground myself – to realize that some things have gotten done, to note that progress – however slow – has been ongoing, to recognize that life hasn’t been hindered beyond mere inconvenience by any of the items on the to-do list, to acknowledge that this house – even with its many deficiencies – is enough for us right now.  It’s hard for me to be okay with less-than-perfect.  And it’s hard for me to not dwell on all the things that have come up with this house that make me feel like nothing will ever go right.

But, right now?  I will try to just look at this moment and rest in the knowledge that God’s provision has never failed to cover our needs.

When hope lies broken

and tears water desert ground,

are You here?

When hurt envelopes

and love’s nowhere to be found

are You here?

When questions overwhelm

and doubt assails soft faith

are You here?

When loneliness abides

and words leave wounds, not grace

are You here?

When all is judged wrong

and truth is restrained by pride

are You here?

When trust has fled far

and honesty must hide

are You here?

Are You here?

Lord, lift my eyes to see Your face,

let Your voice be all I hear.

Fill every dark and empty space

with Your life that casts out fear.

Help me know peace beyond all reason.

Help me love just as You love.

May I forgive each failing, freely

And learn that grace is more than enough.

You are my joy, my strength, my fortress,

the lamp that lights my blackest night.

Your goodness, still, has never wavered –

You won’t grow weary in this fight.

Be glorified, be lifted high.

May Your glory be my only aim.

King of kings, Lord of lords,

my hope rests only in Your Name.

I haven’t really ever thought much about ashes.  I sort of obliviously float past the word as I read it in the Bible.  But the line from a worship chorus “out of the ashes, we rise” struck me yesterday.  I’ve sung it a lot, but thought about it very little, until yesterday.

What I thought was, “Really, God?  There’s gonna be ashes?”  I was thinking about sin.  I was thinking about the freedom that God offers us.  I was thinking about how, sometimes, I expect God to just come in and quietly remove those things that have taken root in my heart and life and actions.  I expect that I will, in an instant, go from sin-bound to set free with no effort, no sting, no consequence.

But this idea of rising from the ashes impressed a different picture on my heart, a picture of God burning up all that is not of Him, down to the tip of the longest root, leaving what might seem like destruction, barrenness, and brokenness.  The reality is that sin has consequences, and freedom from sin often requires what might seem like drastic measures.  God doesn’t want anything standing between us and Him, and if it means that we end up in a pile of ashes, then He’s willing to put us there.  He has little regard for our outward appearance when our hearts are not right with Him, and reputation, comfort, relationships, and desires all matter less than gaining freedom from whatever has us bound.

If your right eye causes you to sin, pluck it out and cast it from you; for it is more profitable for you that one of your members perish, than for your whole body to be cast into hell.—Matthew 5:29

When the Bible talks about ashes, it is often in reference to repentance or seeking God.  When faced with their sin, or when acknowledging a need for God’s help, a person would put on sackcloth and ashes.  Maybe a humbling of themselves?  Maybe a denial of self?  Maybe a statement to God (and the world) that nothing in life was worth more than His presence? I don’t know exactly.  But there is a vulnerability in it, there is a willingness to lay aside everything else for the sake of right relationship with the Lord.

That need for repentance hasn’t changed.  That experience of being brought low, of being exposed and broken is still sometimes a necessary one.  Purging sin from our lives might leave us in an ash heap.  In and of itself, that isn’t a hopeful thought.

But the good news – the hope we have in Christ – is that after repentance comes restoration.

God doesn’t leave us in the ashes.

It’s necessary, breath is.  Always.  Completely.  Necessary.

Not like food, or water, or shelter, or anything else.

A couple seconds without breath and your body lets you know…breathing is not optional, nor even able to be put off until a more convenient time.  No breath means no life.

And it doesn’t matter how strong the body is.  It doesn’t matter how sharp the mind.  It doesn’t matter how skilled the hands.  Without breath, they are all useless.

God breathed into dust and made life.

I need His breath in me.  Every moment, I need to remember where life is found.  Nothing else is as necessary.

I have always had a problem with grace and mercy.  I haven’t always recognized the problem for what it is, though.  I remember, as a child, one of my mom’s coworkers would often sign us up to receive a food basket at Thanksgiving or Christmas from his church.  There were many times when we counted on that food, not just to have a nice holiday meal, but to simply have enough to eat otherwise.  Despite that, though, I can remember feeling guilty about the fact that we were the recipients of such generosity.  I worried that someone would figure out that we didn’t actually deserve it; that the reality of why there was no food in our cupboards would be found out and they would regret showing our family such kindness.

It never really crossed my mind that it might not matter why.  I never thought that someone might just want to meet our need, without concern for how we came to have that need in the first place.  I had no concept of receiving anything other than exactly what was deserved.  And I still don’t.  I don’t know how to receive anything else and, likely far worse, I don’t know how to give anything else.

I think maybe the reason I have been so slow to realize this is that I can, at times, go to great lengths to find a reason why someone is deserving of something.  I try to rationalize bad behavior and search for explanations for wrong choices.  I try to convince myself of how good things have been earned.  Really, I try to justify sin and turn free gifts into simply what is owed to a person.

But when I can’t…when I can’t see sin as anything other than the ugliness that it always is, when I can’t persuade myself that a blessing is merited…I resort to being judgmental, envious, stingy, angry, frustrated or hurt.  This is how I respond to others.  This is how I respond to myself.  I know it speaks volumes about my understanding – or lack thereof – of God’s justice and the sufficiency of Christ’s sacrifice.  It’s not that I can’t explain it, but somewhere between my head and my heart, the truth gets lost.  I have moments when I recognize my failings in this area and force myself to respond in a manner that I know is right, but it is so hard.

I am acutely aware of the difference between my heart in this and God’s.  Every time I think about the cross and about how undeserving I am of all He’s done for me, I am overwhelmed by His goodness and I am so, so thankful.  But, it doesn’t make the slightest bit of sense to me.  Knowing that He sees the worst parts of me, and loves and forgives me anyway?  It’s baffling.  It’s amazing.  Still, it’s how I want to be.  I want to be like Jesus.  I want to have God’s heart.  It can seem absolutely impossible, knowing the heart I have now.

But He can change my heart.