The first trimester…

…is not officially over until Friday, but that’s close enough.

…has been filled with days upon days of nausea, but still not bad enough to claim to have had it “bad.”

…has resulted in a respectable three pound weight gain.

…has been (to use a worn-out phrase) an emotional roller coaster.

…has completely sapped any ounce of energy that remained in my body after my other three children.

…has given me my first ever phone call from an OB to tell me that something might be wrong. **Had some bleeding in the placenta that appears to be healed now, and a possibility of a cyst on the umbilical cord that we will check more closely with another ultrasound next month. He said not to be concerned, so I have put that out of my mind for now.

…has found me, the ever-wanting-your-approval girl, feeling the need to apologize for having another kid right now to just about everyone. Well, I’m not doing that anymore. I will rejoice in this pregnancy and be thankful for it and excited about it–when I’m not scared of it. (That sounds kind of so-there-ish, didn’t mean for it to, just preaching to myself.)

…finds my maternity clothes still safely in the attic, but getting very close to coming down and getting pulled out of the box.

…finds me wondering what in the world I’m going to wear come summer. My only summer baby was close to the beginning of the summer and I only had a few summer things to last the rest of that pregnancy, but this one will go all the way to September, and I don’t know if two pairs of shorts and one skirt is really going to be quite adequate.

…has made me realize that I may be one of the only ladies from the class of 98 who is not stressing out about getting skinny before our ten year reunion this summer (although I have been thinking I would try to work with my weights and tone my arms up some).

…has made me absolutely thrilled, even when the doubts and fears come, to be again a part of that exclusive camaraderie of pregnant women.

…has made me realize that right now, more than any other time in my life, I must live on faith in my God, and eager to see how He is going to work in the next few months.

Three months down, little baby. Six to go. You be nice to me, and I’ll be nice to you. I love you already and I can’t wait to see what dimension you’re going to add to our already colorful family.

Published in:  on February 27, 2008 at 11:05 am Comments (3)
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A human tragedy

I recently read the book Schindler’s List.  I had seen the movie long ago, but my husband, knowing of my (morbid?) interest in the Holocaust, has gotten me several books on the subject and I finally sat down to read this one.  It took quite some time for me to read, mainly because it was difficult emotionally to get through, to realize the wickedness that humanity can achieve.  It includes many, many examples of the atrocious acts against Jews by the Nazi leaders.  However, the main theme of the story, of course, is that of Oskar Schindler, who devised a way to protect nearly 1200 Jews from Poland through the factory he owned.  He was able to somehow deceive the Nazi regime, claiming that his workers were essential to the war effort and producing much needed ammunition, while at the same time managing to avoid actually producing any usable ammunition, an incredible feat.  I knew the basics of the story, but what struck me the most, at first, was the sad end to his tale. When he escaped at the end of the war (having to prove to the Allies that although he was German, he was a “good” German), he lost all his material possessions.  Throughout the war, he was incredibly rich, and accomplished much of his heroic acts through buying off certain SS officers.  After the war, he had nothing.  He and his wife emigrated to Argentina, where he failed at the first of several business ventures, all of which would end in failure.  He was basically destitute for the rest of his life, even living at times off of the generosity of the Jews he had rescued. This struck me as tragic as I finished the book.  However, for some reason, early this morning when I couldn’t sleep I was thinking about the book again, and an even deeper tragedy struck me.  We have absolutely no evidence, at least not presented in this book or movie, that Oskar Schindler ever even crossed paths with the Gospel.  Granted, I have done absolutely no research on his life, so I cannot say this with certainty, but as far as it appears through this book, Oskar Schindler died a lost man without Christ.  For all the believers reading this, you know that means that upon his death he was separated eternally from Christ.  How utterly tragic that someone who was such a hero, such a savior, if you will, on Earth, is most likely spending eternity in Hell.  Does that upset you, to read that, or that I would dare say such a thing?  Remember the Scripture:  “For by grace you have been saved through faith.  And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works so that no one may boast.” (Eph. 2:8-9)  Scripture is clear that no matter what righteous works we do on earth, our works are not our salvation.  Schindler’s works could not be his salvation.  How many people throughout history have done many wonderful things for humanity, and failed to do the one thing that would save their eternity.  Schindler “saved” 1200 Jews, but he failed to acknowledge the one Jew that was there to save him.  If you were upset that I would insinuate that Schindler was in Hell, would it upset you even more if I pointed out the irony that he is most likely sharing his eternal home with Hitler, the person that he dedicated several years of his life to fight against?  How tragically ironic.  To make this train of thought even more miserable, many of the Jews that he fought so hard to save are probably there with him.  Just as works don’t save a person, neither does heritage.  No matter what bloodline or family or race, no matter how many righteous deeds, no matter what we do or are in this life, our only salvation is through faith in Jesus Christ.  We are not born into faith and we cannot achieve it by any works.  It comes by grace alone, through faith alone.

I know this is kind of a depressing post.  It was just so sobering to me as this occurred to me this morning, I needed to write it down to order my thoughts.  What are the take-aways from this?  I’m not exactly sure.  Maybe some reading this are doing some righteous works themselves, doing great good for humanity.  Maybe you need to be told that while that counts for a lot to us humans and here on this Earth, but as far as entering into God’s kingdom, your good deeds are as filthy rags in God’s eyes.  There is absolutely no good thing that anyone could do that could even begin to bridge the gulf between that person and God, the gulf that is carved by their sin.  If you are counting on any good thing in yourself to earn favor with God, you are being deceived.  Scripture says, “There is none righteous, no not one.”  When you acknowledge this truth as being true indeed of yourself, and admit that there is no way for you to earn favor with God apart from Himself and His grace, then your heart will be ripe for true righteousness.  Do not be deceived.  Do not spend your life doing wonderful things and miss out on the one thing that matters eternally.  Do not let your life end in a tragedy, as I assume Oskar Schindler’s did.

The things they say…

Today at school, Abigail was reading some words that begin with H, the letter we’re learning this week.  First she just had some syllables to read, like ha…, he…, hi…, ho…, hu…(all of these are with the short vowel sound, important for the rest of this story.)  When she got to hi…, she read it and then said, “Hi…, just like I used to say ‘hin’ but now I say ‘hen,’ really enunciating the short e sound in “hen.”  (Also important for this story is the fact that I am from Kentucky, and if you could hear me talk you would figure that out really quickly.)  I chuckled and told her that Mommy still says “hin.”  She looked at me wide-eyed and silent for a moment, then burst out laughing and said, “You do!?!”, then continued to laugh uproariously until I had to redirect her attention.  So my daughter has now surpassed her mother in pronunciation.   (Sorry if this story really didn’t make much sense.   It’s much clearer if you can hear it instead of read it.)

Then, when we got home from church tonight and I was trying to get Catherine ready for bed, I asked her what her story was about in her class.  She said it was about Paul, so I asked her what Paul did.  She said matter-of-factly, “He stuck a feather in his hat and called it macaroni.”   Hmmmm.

Published in:  on February 20, 2008 at 10:05 pm Comments (2)

Goody two shoes, much?

We went to Chick Fil-A on Valentine’s night to take advantage of their Valentine’s 2 eat for the price of 1 special.  While we were there, we were (as usual) constantly having to remind Abigail to eat, please.  At one point, Catherine randomly said, “Hey, Mom, aren’t you glad that your daughter is picking up her chicken, dipping it in her ketchup, putting it in her mouth, and putting it back in her box?”  Trying not to laugh, and trying to remember that this child is only 2 years old and really shouldn’t be talking like this, I said, “Well, yes.  I am glad.”  She then smugly pointed out, “Abigail is not doing that.”  When I told her that we would worry about Abigail’s eating habits and she should focus on her own, she (trying her best to make me see that she was indeed being the good child) said, “Well, aren’t you glad that your daughter is drinking her milk?”  Again, I said yes, and again I heard a smug little voice say, “Well, Abigail isn’t.”

Okay, so the lesson didn’t exactly take at that point.  Hopefully she will continue to watch and learn from her sister’s mistakes (Abigail certainly gives her ample opportunity), and maybe the next couple of years with Catherine will be smoother than the previous ones with Abigail.  We will continue working on the self-righteous attitude, though.

Published in:  on at 5:07 pm Comments (2)

An extremely busy week

You may have noticed that my blog has been somewhat neglected recently.  I did manage to get Abigail’s birthday note up on time, but I’ve hardly been on the computer since then.  Last week was one of the busiest we’ve had in a long time, but it was such a good week.  Our church hosts a biblical counseling training conference every February.  This year around 1650 people came from all over the country, and several foreign countries, to attend.  While my husband and I were (slightly) jealous that we couldn’t actually go to the conference, we did the next best thing by volunteering to serve.  We hosted two college girls in our home, letting them sleep on our ultra-luxurious guest bed (the living room sofa bed), and just getting to know them a little each night before we all crashed.  I also got to work in the bookstore, something I haven’t done since spring of 2002 and at that point, thought that I would never want to do again.  But I absolutely loved it.  I had the best time.  I didn’t even get to work the cash register, just bagging and helping people find what they needed.  But it felt so natural, and I’m now trying to figure out a way to volunteer in there on a more regular basis.  The only way I was able to do it last week was because more wonderful volunteers took time out of their week to watch my kids (along with others) so that us mommies could have the freedom to serve the church.  If Ms. Kathy hadn’t been there every day caring for my three (who absolutely loved going to “the different room at church” every day), I would have been home every day as usual, and missing out on the opportunity to serve.  At one point one of our pastors thanked me for sacrificing to serve, and I said, “Are you kidding?  This is no sacrifice!  Ms. Kathy is making the sacrifice, I’m having a great time.  This is a treat for me!”  I love my girls, and as I wrote a few posts ago, I have no considerations of going to work any time in the near future.  But it was awfully nice to get a little treat like this for a week.  Clay just about wore himself out with working all day every day, coming home for a quick supper, then heading to the church to do janitorial work until 10:30.  He had the worst of it, at least at our house, but he too would say it was a good week.  With our schedules and situations, there just aren’t a whole lot of opportunities for us to really serve well at church, and not serving is something new to us.  So I think we both finally felt this week like we were making a contribution, and that’s a good feeling.

So that explains my absence.  Hopefully I can unravel the thoughts going around inside my head and get some “in writing” on here sometime this week.  But for now, we’re off to a playdate.

Have a great week.

Published in:  on February 18, 2008 at 10:30 am Comments (1)