Levi {One Week}

One week.  Seven Days.  168 Hours.  10080 Minutes.  604800 Seconds.  Just enough time to be totally in love with you.

the funny thing about love

You try and remember the details of the big events in your life.  The things that matter.  The things that change you.  Big days, big moments, big trials, big struggles -- you think they stay fresh in your mind.  But as time passes and moments pass, you realize the finer things -- the intimate things -- you sometimes forget as the mundane parts take over your memories.

I want to remember the intimate things.

As I parted from my love and walked alone to the operating room, I became aware of how much I depend on him to calm me.  I could feel the anxiety of the next minutes without him overwhelm me; the needle, the numbing, the slowed breathing.  I desperately wanted to hold his hand through it, rather than the stranger, the masked nurse who tried to comfort me.

You forget those things, you know, in the hustle and bustle of your day.  When almost nine years have passed you by as sippy cups and homework assignments and temper tantrums rule your conversations.  You forget that there's no one else's hand you would rather hold, whether you were scared or happy or just high on love.

I don't want to forget it again.


I could hear my slow breaths in my ears.  The sounds of machines and alarms, checking my vitals.  Voices with unfamiliar faces -- then they called him into the room.  Fears and worries melted and I smiled when I saw his gentle eyes peering over his mask.  How could one man change how I feel so quickly?  He quietly whispered, "Are you ready to meet our little boy?"  I remember answering in my head, not sure if I said it outloud.  "Yes."

When you have one child, you can't possibly imagine loving another as much as the first.  When you have two children, you can't possibly imagine stuffing more love in that heart of yours to make room for a third.  But when I heard his cry, when he was released from my body into a sterile room with bright, white lights -- I was filled with him again.  Not in the empty cavity he came from but with a swell in my chest.  I hadn't even seen him, hadn't even smelled him, and he was mine.  I had enough love, more than enough, for him.  And his big brother.  And his big sister.  And his daddy. 
Because you see the funny thing about love is, when another person is added to that totem pole you keep -- the one with the names of all of those you share this life with -- love actually spills out on them too.  My love for my newest Little increased my love for all the others I had loved before him.  My capacity wasn't filled like I had thought.  There was even more left to be given. 
And when I held my First and my Second and my Third in my arms, I couldn't help but know the Father's love for me in a deeper and more intimate way.  Not just in the blessing of bringing new life, new love, to this Earth but in how His love for me increases because of the love He has for all of His other children too. 
 
 
 
I watched the events of the day unfold in slow motion.  Not trying to remember his size or the hour and minute he arrived but trying to remember the way He, my Father, was in each intimate moment.   Holding onto the things I knew I would want to recall, things I didn't want the mundane to steal.  I want to remember how my capacity for love doesn't end with the children I grew in my own body, but that my chest can and will swell with each opportunity to love another that God places in my path.


*Levi Frank was born at 8:01am on April 4th, 2014.  He was 8 pounds and 20.5 inches long.  Happy, healthy and strong.

I Choose Love

"But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord.  Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have.  But do this with gentleness and respect, keeping a clear conscience, so that those who speak maliciously against your good behavior in Christ may be ashamed of their slander." -1 Peter 3:15-16

I am not political, nor am I a public debater.  Although I hold my own personal set of beliefs and opinions, I rarely voice them loudly, or in the case of many others -- passively aggressive.  But I am continually disappointed, and really just outright disturbed, by the apparent condition that many of my fellow Christians are in today.  Scripture says in Matthew 15:18, "But the things that come out of a person's mouth come from the heart, and these defile them."  And if I believed that Scripture is true, and I do, then there are a lot of Christians today who are deceived by the condition of their own hearts.

I have come to the conclusion that our Christian culture must be coming up with their own version of Scripture that fits to their own desires of how they want to act.  The reality is you can't pull verses out of context.  You can't pick which parts of Scripture you choose to act on and which ones you choose to ignore.  There is a reason God placed each truth-breathed verse in His "manual."  

I am no theologian, so I could be wrong, but it seems to me that God didn't write the Bible for non-Believers, that is until they become Believers.  The things in His Book are guidelines for people who believe in Christ as their Lord and Savior and are charged to live accordingly.  Unfortunately, as Believers, we continually try and hold others, that are not Believers, to this standard of living.  And then judge them harshly when they don't.  Have we forgotten that we aren't the Ultimate Judge?  Have we forgotten the only instructions that God gave to us, our only responsibility, is to love others unconditionally as Christ loves us?

We all know what topics are red-hot this day and age.  We know the debates all over Facebook.  We see the riots and pickets and protests on the News.  We hear the stories, we aren't oblivious or living in an isolated cave.  But what really disturbs me is seeing people, who are supposedly representing the God I love, I follow and have dedicated my life to, acting completely contrary to what He says in His Word.

Just because I am a missionary in a third world country doesn't mean I am exempt from these conversations.  In fact, it hits closer to home than you may realize.  I have friends who are gay.  I have friends who are atheists.  I have friends who are addicts and alcoholics.  I have friends who have had abortions.  I have friends who are Democrats (gasp!).  I even have friends who were literally Satan-worshippers but have since found the love of Christ.  And having relationships with all of these "types" of people has never once lessoned my effectiveness as a Christian, at least not in God's eyes.  In fact, my relationships with these people have actually enriched my life, made me want to live a more zealous life of love.  I have seen kindness, generosity and selflessness through these people in ways that have heavily impacted me.  And you know what is the most amazing thing?  They bring meals to a sick member of their community, take in abandoned and unloved children and care for the homeless too.  Not because a pastor or elder or church member asked for it but because it was just in their hearts to do.

I am not for a second saying that we give up on winning people for Christ.  Quite the opposite, actually.  In fact, I spent the first 20 years of my life as an unbelieving "pagan" myself.  I have been a Believer for less time than I had been a non-Believer and I am quite thankful I had people in my life who never gave up on me.  But if you look through the New Testament and follow the life of Jesus, he didn't win people over with harsh words of condemnation, rants over equality and value of life or having the best argument for a particular debate.  No.  He won them over with "gentleness and respect."  He won them over with unconventional mercy and forgiveness.  He won them over by dining with them, talking about life with them and genuinely praying for their circumstances.  And ultimately, he loved them, unconditionally, despite the seemingly huge differences between them.

It's time Christians are known across the globe for following the practices of our fearless, humble, kind and gentle leader instead of being the intolerant, judgmental, boisterous people we have been.  

Which is why as I reflected on today, the first day of Lent, I remember that on the cross Christ chose me, therefore I choose love.

Lord, my faithful God

"Into your hands I commit my spirit; deliver me, LORD, my faithful God." -Psalm 31:5

I wasn't really dreading the doctor's visit but I did feel apprehensive.  I brought Emi with me to relieve some of the tension of waiting for results and hearing the news again.  She proved to be a great companion.

I looked around the waiting room at all of the other women with their bulging bellies, some of them most definitely further along than I, but others with just a hint that life was growing in them.  There is something so comforting about being in this waiting room, knowing that all of the women know, or will know what you are going through.  No one stares at you with pity because of how life will be radically different.  No one uninvitingly touches your belly or says things like, "You're huge, are you having twins?"  No, we all glance in each other's direction, half-smiles, because we all share the same secret love for a child that we have all been hoping for.

When they called my name after waiting an eternity, I drudgingly stepped on the scale.  Up another two pounds.  I'll never get used to that.  Emi charmed the nurses sitting at their desks and going about their daily tasks.  Three Dora stickers, just for being cute.

We walked the long corridor and turned into a dark room with the awkward OB table and it's scary looking stirrups.  I stared at the blank screen, wondering what news it would reveal today.  As I clumsily got up on the bed, I whispered a quiet prayer and held a strong face so Emi wouldn't worry.  Today we would come up with a plan for our little guy.  We would do our best to decide his safest entry into our world.

Sitting there, I wondered how many women received devastating news on this bed, watching dreams shattered on a black and white screen.  I'm wired to minimize the situations in my life, compare them to the heartache others suffer that are greater than mine.  But as I lay there, without my husband -- my rock -- I couldn't help but turn my attention to the fact that I felt so alone, so scared.

As the ultrasound tech swished that blasted, warm goo around and the scanner touched my child's temporary home, I took a deep breath.  She was silent, with no expression.  She didn't smile or make eye contact with me.  She just kept moving it around on my stomach, clicking on the keys and taking measurements.  Does she even know why I'm here?  Does she know that this Mama is dying inside, waiting for more bad news?  Couldn't she just spit it out, tell me the truth quickly?  Knowing is better than wondering, right?

As soon as these words were jotted in my head she began to point to the screen, there was my little boy's profile.  My heart swelled.  What a handsome little thing.  As handsome as white lines and gray nothingness can be.  There is his heart, pumping well.  Emi ran to the machine as she heard her brother's heartbeat in surround sound.  "This is the cord..." she said, "...let me just...hmmm."  Is it wrapped two times now?  Three?  Is he not getting the oxygen he needs?  "I'm not sure how," this twenty-something bearer of news, says, "but the cord is no longer wrapped around his neck."

Silence.

Are you sure? I asked in my head.  And almost as if she had heard my thoughts, she responded with, "You have a healthy, baby boy in there.  And a cord that is completely out of harm's way."

I've learned to guard my emotions, somewhat, living on the mission field for eight years.  But tears streamed quietly down my face.  Only Emi noticed them and she rushed over to ask if I was alright.  That little thing has a sixth-sense, I swear, she knows when someone can use a comforting touch.

The tech printed off a plethora of photos and Emi squealed with glee as she glanced through them all.  "That's my bruhver," she would say.

Yes, it is, my sweet girl...our miracle baby.  And our God has been faithful once again.

Waiting Patiently...

I am not a patient person.  Although becoming a mother thrust me into "patience training" whether I liked it or not.  I am happy to report that I am a much more patient person than I used to be but my natural default is still to take things into my own hands, handle it myself and take control of the situation.

But there are some things in life we can't control.

Around week 27 of my pregnancy, Mike and I went in for a scheduled appointment with our OB in the Dominican after a routine ultrasound just to make sure all was well.  Come to find out, it wasn't.  As Dr. Santillan began spouting off some explanations in Spanish I struggled to understand a phrase I wasn't familiar with.  I kept nervously looking at Mike hoping that he would cut her off and calm my panicked look with a simple explanation because surely I had misunderstood her when I thought she said the cord was wrapped around our baby's neck.  But as she finished her explanation my fears were confirmed and she moved right along with when we would schedule our next monthly appointment.

I left the doctor's office with nothing more than the instructions to keep track of our little guy's movements and if anything changed to get to the hospital right away.  I held it together until I was in the comfort of our van and then the floodgates opened.  Did my "perfect pregnancy" really just change that quickly?

Over the next couple of days, Mike and I had some decisions to make.  Many phone calls and texts were made to my sisters in the States, who are both in the medical field.  Trying to get the best information I could get my hands on.  I avoided the internet and researching this "condition" as I knew I would find way more tragic stories than good ones.  The last thing I needed to do was add gasoline to a fire that was already brewing.

The day after we received the news, a scripture that I had read so many times before spoke quietly to my heart:

"We who have this spiritual treasure are like common clay pots, in order to show that the supreme power belongs to God, not to us.  We are often troubled, but not crushed; sometimes in doubt, but never in despair; there are many enemies, but we are never without a friend; and though badly hurt at times, we are not destroyed." - 2 Corinthians 4:7-9

It would be easy, and maybe even expected or "normal" to doubt God's plan for a situation like this.  Too often, Christians have been brainwashed into thinking that because of our adoption into God's kingdom we are somehow exempt from heartache, pain and disappointment.  If we love God enough, obey His commands and live a good life, all will be well.  But I have learned over my lifetime, and especially over the last four years which have been exceptionally difficult, that we are not exempt.  In fact, we will more than likely experience extra doses of difficult circumstances.

As I meditated on the scripture I felt an overwhelming sense of God's peace rush over me.  Not the kind of peace that said, "My child, everything is alright.  Everything will turn out fine.  Your baby will be born, alive and healthy."  In fact, the comfort was just the opposite.  I felt at peace with whatever the outcome was.  I have walked the path of worry, disappointment and loss, with my Savior before -- experiencing His rejuvenating peace, love and comfort even in the midst of trials.  The peace I felt, and still feel, comes from knowing and trusting a God that has had my heart in His hands before and has my heart in His hands now.

So I wait patiently.  Waiting for God's story to unfold.  Waiting for a baby to be born.  Waiting for the ways that God will glorify Himself through this situation.  A lesson in patience that I would have never asked for myself, but will surely someday look back and be blown away by the ways God carried me through these times.

28 weeks

Welcome to the third trimester!  It isn't long now!  And obviously my belly has transformed from me looking a little "pudgy" around the middle to full blown roundness!  It has been so fun to watch all of these changes.  I know that this is my last pregnancy so I have been trying to enjoy it, remember it, savor it and just all around love every second.  It has made this feel so special.  You almost forget how much of a miracle this process is because of how "common" it is.  But today, I just can't help but be utterly grateful.

I've had a few days of returned sickness after nearly a month without a single symptom.  But I will praise Him even in that!  My back has started to ache from the very obvious growth happening on the front side.  And the lovely shortness of breath that I remember all two well from my first two pregnancies has joined the party as well.  It seems LB's (yes, we have a name, but it shall remain a secret!) favorite place to hang out is under my ribs and up in my lungs.  Fun times!

Landon continues to be totally excited about the pending birth of his brother and Emi continues to be completely disappointed that it is not a girl.  I have a feeling roles will switch though at some point after his birth, when Landon is sick of sharing his room and Emi is still excited to be playing "mom" with her baby brother.

Here's to our final trimester and a healthy little one coming soon!  See you next month!

Have you ever seen anything so cute?

24 weeks

Four weeks have come and gone and suddenly I am working towards the third trimester.  The biggest change this month was the introduction of the rest of our family being able to feel our little guy moving in my belly.  Landon, by far, is the most excited about this new development.  I have never seen a little boy so excited about an unborn brother!  It makes me smile.

The other amazing thing is that I went two whole weeks without vomiting.  This is big, people.  I have some renewed energy (with the help of a daily afternoon nap), I can pretty much each anything without having any food aversions and overall I just feel a ton better.  What a relief.

I took two weeks of vacation off of work and have been home with the kids while they are on Christmas break.  We have done a lot of crafting and playing and especially building with Legos.

The weather has been amazing (not too many people in the States are setting the sprinkler out for their kids in December) and I am really soaking in this time as a family.  It won't be long before our family takes on a whole new dynamic of adding a third child and all the craziness that comes with it.

I am getting anxious to meet our little guy.  I am also moving into crazy, nesting mode and have begun to plan out how we are going to fit him in Landon's room.  It still hasn't totally sunk in that I am going to have two sons, three kids.  Feeling completely, totally and overwhelmingly blessed.

See you next month!

20 Weeks...

 

20 weeks have flown by!  I can hardly believe it.  We are halfway to meeting our little man!

I am feeling much better and even went a WHOLE week without getting sick.  Of course I've been sick every day this week but I'm going to count my blessings when I can.  Baby B3 is moving a bit more now, nothing too crazy, but he is doing a lot of flipping around in there.  Still nothing strong enough for anyone but me to feel, but I think those days are numbered.

I've started to walk everyday which has helped with my energy level and I am pretty much eating normally now.  A LOT less Ramen noodles and Saltine crackers!  Woo hoo!

We have an appointment coming up this week and I am anxious to see our boy on the sonogram screen again.  Can't wait to have him in my arms! 

See ya in four weeks!

she turned four

We blinked and she wasn't a baby anymore.  I'm not sure how it happened but suddenly her day was here.  She woke up with an instant smile on her face as we sang to her through her streamer-ed door.  Her smile so big, cheeks so chubby, her little slivers of eyes, gleaming.  She knew it was special.

  Our girly-girl who dazzles herself with jewelry, make-up and nail polish but prefers to watch Transformers, Ben 10 and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles with her brother.

There is no shortage of sass in this little three-foot-something frame.  Attitude also comes along for the ride.  She challenges everything, has an opinion about everything, submisses to virtually no authority unless its convenient for her.



But she cuddles better than anyone I've ever known.  She nestles her head into the crook of your neck, throws her arms around you and always makes a sighing noise of complete satisfaction as if with you is the only place she wants to be.

She loves fiercely, is disgusted regularly, is passionately loud and uncharacteristically gentle.

We should have given her the middle name of "mischief" or "sneaky."  She is always finding herself in a bind, with a crayon in hand and a blank canvas, also known as her bedroom wall, just begging to be colored on.  We think we have misplaced important things only to find them tucked away in her "secret hiding place" also known as her play kitchen.  It's a good thing we know her secret or there would be a lot more panic as we look for car keys, jumpdrives and wedding rings.

  

She's dramatic and resourceful.

 

And always finds herself shakin' her "tail feathers" to whatever tune is playing in the background.

  

She hassles her brother and gives him way more kisses than he could ever want; but we know its because she loves him so fiercely.

 

She was a healing baby for our family four years ago and she continues to do so four years later. 

  

A dreamer, a peacemaker, a debater.

 

She wants to be doctor so she can help people in this world.

 

We couldn't imagine our world without her.

Happy Birthday, little girl.  We love you more than you could ever know.