The Dirt Road

“And they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength...they shall run and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.” -Isaiah 40:31 

I went running this week.  Twice.  I ran a mile each time, and although this may not seem like a monumental occurrence, it kind of is.  I had my fourth baby ten weeks ago on Thursday, and I've never started working out after giving birth until about a year, or in some cases much longer.  It's hard because I'm not one of those people who can work out when I'm pregnant.  I wish I was, because I know it's much healthier, but I'm just not.  

I was in good shape before I got pregnant, but during my pregnancy I only went running once.  It was about a week after I found out, and I was super proud of myself.  I accurately informed my sister as we were running together that I had already worked out more in this pregnancy than in my other three combined.  0+0+0<1.  Unfortunately, the trend couldn't last and I didn't seriously workout again. 

This is my first blog post since February, and I think my running may have something to do with that.  As Julia Cameron says in The Artist's Way, many people's creativity is strongly influenced and released by exercise. Sometimes even just a brisk walk can get the creative juices flowing.  
That seems to be true for me.

I love running.  (Actually, as out of shape as I am right now I am still at the point where I HATE running, but you know what I mean.) I love running because it forces me to focus on something outside of myself and rely on strength from without instead of falling back on my own strength within.  On Monday that strength was my husband, graciously running along beside me, letting me set the pace as well as the distance when he easily could have tripled both. Thursday I was alone, and running in the heat of the day on a dirt road that suddenly became an international highway.  Car after car zoomed past me going at least 30 mph instead of the legally required 20, kicking dust up off the road and straight into my lungs.  I thought about quitting as I greedily gulped in as much oxygen as Gunnison (with its 7,700 feet elevation) was willing to share with me, and I listed all the reasons it would make sense to walk instead.  Then I started to pray.

I can be overly self-sufficient. Sometimes it's easy to stay in my little comfort zone where I am in control. But as I prayed, I remembered that there is a God who made me, who is bigger than I am and a source of strength outside of my own weakness.  In the big things and small things, He is there to offer strength and encouragement.  I am not on my own. And I finished the mile. 

Midnight Musings

It is late.  A. is sleeping next to me and I’m pressing the keys on my keyboard down as lightly as I can in the hope that I won’t disturb him.  It doesn’t seem to make my typing any quieter.  Our door is open and I can hear the sound of the noisemakers from the girls’ and Logan’s room coming from their open doorways.  I like being awake at night when all the doors are open and I know my kids are asleep.  I feel close to them even though I can’t see them.  Someday (soon) they’ll be teenagers and sleep with their doors closed.  I won’t have to wonder if Reagan will wake me up at 11:00 p.m. or 4:00 a.m. or anywhere in between, because she won’t be six anymore, and will no longer climb into bed with us.  I’ll hold onto their being little while I can.

The baby is moving in my belly as I write this.  I wonder if this little person is a girl or a boy?  I almost can’t believe we didn’t find out.  I think part of me really wondered if we’d cave and go ahead and ask the technician what we’re having.  I’m glad we didn’t.  I think I would have been really disappointed, even though it is going to be soooo hard to wait another twenty weeks to find out.

It was such a relief to me when the doctor at the imaging department told me that everything looked okay.  There are so, so, so many things that can go wrong.  I actually felt a little sick with relief as we were leaving the ultrasound.  And then I cried because so many of my friends have lost sweet babies.  It breaks my heart.  All my happiest moments seem to be tinged with sadness.

Our sermon at church today was about suffering and why it is something that we have to deal with, dating back to Adam and Eve and their choice to eat from the tree of knowledge of good and evil, allowing sin and sickness to enter the world.  I was reminded of the time when Avery was four-and-a-half and I had briefly explained that concept to her.  A few days later we were talking about something else and she said, “Mom, why did God start with just two people?”  Before I could answer she said, “Adam and Eve were kind of naughty.  They ate that bad tree.  And that makes me angry with Adam and Eve.  And kind of sad.  And a little bit scared.”  Me too, kiddo.

A thought I took with me from today’s sermon was that sometimes, we want to look at God and say that if He is all loving and all powerful and bad things still happen, then He must not exist.  But taking God away doesn’t remove our problems or our suffering, it just removes any possible solution to them.  Knowing that God has an ultimate plan for us that is bigger than our troubles on earth helps give meaning to our lives.  The pastor reminded us that we are not alone in our sorrows, and that God enters into our suffering with us.  Jesus suffered for us.  He quoted the writer John Stott as saying, “I could never myself believe in God, if it were not for the cross….  In the real world of pain, how could one worship a God who was immune to it?”

I’ve been reading Bonhoeffer for part of a reading challenge I am doing with my sister.  (Next week I’ll tell you all the details of the challenge and how you can participate if you want.)  The book hasn’t even begun to scratch the surface of the atrocities perpetrated by the Nazis yet, but Bonhoeffer’s mother just lost one of her sons in the First World War and was almost undone by her grief, in spite of her deep faith.  I thought again of my friends, and of my mom who lost my brother five years ago.

We are not guaranteed comfort and safety in this life.  We are living in uncertain times, in a lot of ways, and even if there were nothing to fear from terrorism or mass shootings, there would still be cancer, car accidents, and stillbirths.  I am thankful that everything looked good on the ultrasound, but I know that there is still so much that could go wrong.  It’s comforting to me to listen to the quiet of my family sleeping, to feel my baby moving in my belly, and know that right now, we are okay.  I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, but I do know that God is with us in our joy and in our suffering, and He is not immune to pain.

Giving Thanks

This week I am thankful for tea.  And the sounds of three-year-old giggles, eight-year-old piano players, and six-year-olds practicing reading aloud.  Life is good.

I’m nineteen weeks and six days pregnant, and I get to go and see the baby on an ultrasound tomorrow.  I’m really excited.  The plan is to try not to find out what we’re having until the baby is born, so wish us luck.  It’s not entirely outside the realm of possibility that one or both of us will cave and decide we have to know.  Or find out by accident.  We’ve seen quite a few ultrasounds at this point and might know what we’re looking at.

I’m finally starting to feel quite a bit better.  This pregnancy has been my roughest yet (hence the weeks of radio silence on the blog) and I didn’t magically emerge into week sixteen and feel 100% better like I did with my last three pregnancies, which was disappointing.  But I am feeling much better than I was, which I am thankful for.  I’ve also used the time of low energy and sickness to catch up on a lot of reading.  I mean, a lot of reading.  I’ve read more books in the last month than I have in the last several years put together.  And though I’m still having bouts of severe nausea every night, at least I can alleviate it substantially by drinking chamomile tea.

I LOVE tea, although chamomile is not usually my favorite.  But Teamotions Enjoy Rest (Apple Cinnamon Chamomile) and Give Thanks (Maple Ginger Rooibos with Chamomile) have been lifesavers these last few weeks.  Give Thanks, along with our other amazing holiday teas, will only be available until January 15^th so I’m going to stock up.  You should, too.  J