Stopped in My Tracks

We have been waiting for so long and now, the waiting seems to be coming to an end...not without a little more waiting, though!

We have been waiting for the call on a job that Jeff would really like to get hired for.  He went to interview down in Florida early this week and as he left, they said they'd be in touch late in the week or early next week at the latest.

For the past two days, I have been on the edge of my seat....waiting....hoping....praying for the call, wondering just when it would happen!  I actually got myself all worked up about it.  I am not an anxious person by nature but I feel like I'm livin' on the edge of my seat here!  In fact, one of my Facebook status' this week read:  "I feel like I'm waiting for labor to start.  It could happen at any time!  Impatiently excited."

That statement pretty much sums up how I've been feeling all week.  If you're a mom, you know what I'm talking about.  You wait and wait until that 9th month, you wait for the due date, and then....it passes by.  And you think, "Gosh, I could go at any time!"  But you don't know when.  You just have to wait.  No control over it, no certainty for plans, and somehow, you end up with every expectation and no expectations all at the same time.  (I really hope you can agree with me here and that I'm not the only one who has felt like this!)

As we (I) continued to wait, I felt doubt sneaking in.  Jeff has been so positive, so certain that he will get this job.  He truly feels that this is where the Lord wants him and he's going with it!  His certainty is contagious, and yes, I would love to have my husband working for this type of company so I do want to believe he'll get chosen.  But those nagging doubts started to fill my head over the past few days, telling me that this might be a cruel joke of some sort.

Can I tell you how thankful I am for a personal God who shook me in my flip-flops tonight and whispered right to my heart?  He said,

"Kelly, I want the very best for you and Jeff.  There is goodness in the waiting.  I already know what the outcome is, and I'm already there.  I've made a path for Jeff and it's a good one, no matter which job he will be in.  I am there.  Remember?"

And I stood there--in disbelief--that I would ever even begin to doubt, ever even remotely wonder that God's plan might not be the best for us!  How could I so easily be shaken by those minuscule doubts when I stand on the ROCK, when I am a child of the I AM?

My heart whispered back.

"Oh.  Yes.  I do remember.  You are God who loves me, who wants my family to prosper and not to be harmed.  You plan good things for us, You have brought us down this road not for torture or to be teased but to be pruned, to be sharpened.  You are with me and You go before me.  You are my Hope.  I remember now.  Thank You."

So thankful, so very thankful tonight for a gentle, kindhearted Father who speaks to me even when I don't think He's listening.

Renewed

The thing I like most about knowing God is knowing that He is not far from me.  On any given day, in any given condition that I find myself in, He is there.  Nothing is a surprise to Him!  And though it may look like there isn't anything going on, the reality is that something is always going on.  There is so much more going on than meets the eye.


Take Spring, for example.  We all love it when the weather warms up, the birds start to sing, the trees start to bud.  But, a few weeks or months before these events take place, the earth is a dark, cold, seemingly barren land.  Frigid white snow covers the ground, drowning out any life below that might be brave enough to emerge too soon.  The trees are naked, stripped down to the branch, not a sign of life on them.  Usually, the sound of ice crunching under foot is the only sound of nature that can be heard.


At first glance, one would think that all is gone.  It's over! Nothing is happening whatsoever.


But wait.  
The snow melts, revealing tiny blades of grass that get greener by the day.  Trees start to welcome birds who've flown home from milder climates.  They sing happily and delight us with their springtime melodies while tiny buds appear and will soon turn into fragrant, colorful blooms, and then wonderfully shading leaves.  Flowers start to push up through the ground, looking for warmth, for light from the sun, which stays around a little longer each day.  


Life!  


This beauty was there all along, even when we couldn't see it.  When it was hidden with the cold, when the darkness threatened to dim the last flicker of light remaining, new life sprung forth.


I liken this analogy to our current situation.  Nothing has changed since my last post.  Jeff still does not have a job; we continue to wait and trust.  And hope.  


On the days where I felt that nothing was happening, things weren't ever going to change, and life as I knew it was being snuffed out of me, there was still that last flicker of hope.


Hope of what may come--What may be just around the corner.  
Hope that I am not alone.  
Hope that there is something going on, even if I can't see it.
Hope that beauty will come with our Spring.

Twenty Ten

Hello!

I am so excited to be writing again! It would seem that my best intentions fall to the wayside when it comes to my little corner of the Internet world. It's not that I don't want to write, on the contrary I do very much want to write!

But I haven't made the time.

Until now.

I know, I know. I've said it before. However, I am really going to try to be intentional about this blog of mine. I love it so. And I love my readers (if you're still reading). I love your comments, I love your own blogs, I love love love the blog world and I want to be a part of it!

Writing is so very good for my soul and along with doing more of it this year, I'm praying about how God would use this gift he's given me for His purposes. I'm excited about the things I feel He may be placing on my heart!

I'm also excited about some other things that I'm tackling this year. Here's a very concise list:

1) Weight. Finally.

2) A consistent morning Quiet Time. Finally.

3) Regular prayer journaling.

4) Encouraging my husband more with my words.

6) Being more of a 'floor mom' with my kids.

7) Making time to write.

8) Doing things as they come, instead of letting them pile up. (An example might putting pictures in my frames...)

9) Meal Planning. Finally.

I'm sure I am forgetting a few things, but as you can see, many of my goals for 2010 (and the rest of my life) deal with self-control. Unfortunately, I lack much of it!

When I tell my son that he needs self-control, I realize that he isn't the only one. When he is quick to point the finger at someone else or when he can't reign in his emotions, I see myself.

When I look to food to fill me up, I see my need for it. When I look in the mirror, I see what lack of self-control has done. When I try to fill my self with things (literally or figuratively) to make me happy, I fail, and again I am faced with my desperate need for this important character quality.

I notice my lack of it when my words are quick with my husband. Before the last word hits my lips, I wince; it's too late. The pain sears my heart as I understand how much words can build or break a person and if only I had controlled my self and my tongue....

At the end of the day, it's not my lack of self-control that I notice most. I think we can all agree that we have to work on this, it's not a given. But what I do notice most as my head hits the pillow and I think over the days' ups and downs is my dire need of a Savior. I'm thankful that I can rely on Him to help me with these changes. They are big ones, ones that I want to make for a lifetime, ones that I want to instill in my children.

Well, there's my list with a little dose of honesty on the side. Here's to 2010! May it be one that teaches us all a bit more about our "selfs". :)

Good Grief, Silent Night

-originally published on December 9, 2005

Last night was gorgeous. The snow started falling at about 9 and as the minutes went on, the flakes got bigger and it started to fall faster. We finished watching the Apprentice and Jeff went up to bed; I was a few mintues behind him, just tidying up the house so that it's done in the morning when I wake up. (I love getting up to a clean house!) I saw the spotlight on outside and when I went to turn it off, I noticed the snow. The light illuminated the snow in this picture-perfect Christmas-y way and I just had stop and enjoy it, to take it all in.

I turned off all of the lights in the house except the Christmas tree, and then I put on Mannheim Steamroller's Christmas CD, #11, Silent Night. What a song. Every year I play this song both on Christmas Eve and Christmas night to help me reflect about the year that's passed. It's the most beautiful Silent Night song I've ever heard and when I hear it, it slows my mind enough to sit and be. It's completely instrumental and at the very end, there is the sound of a wind swirling through the air, kind of signaling the change: the end of another year, the start of a new one and the wonder, fear and excitement of which that new year brings.

As I looked out my living room window, I noticed that the reflection in the window was that of our tree, glistening with white lights and ornaments. Outside the snow was falling and the air cold, but inside, there was peace and warmth. Then I saw myself in the reflection, with the tree to my left and the illuminated snow in front. Such beauty all round. It was sacred to me, all of it. As I stood there and thought about the time I've had at this address, in this house, I started to smile, and then to cry.

My first thought was to give praise to God for blessing me (and later Jeff) with this house. I can't even begin to count all of the blessings we've had here. Then my thoughts drifted to the memories that have been made here. So many wonderful memories, so many things to think about, including the awful moments I'm too ashamed to mention. "There's been so much here God, so much that You've ordained. Do I really have to go?"

I thought of how when I first found this house on my way to work, I had to sneak in to get a glimpse of it, it just seemed so perfect. The door was unlocked and the house was empty, and I ran through so fast with my heart beating in fear of someone finding me. I thought about it for two whole days, and so wished that it could be mine, that I could afford it and that they'd let me have my cat here. Once I finally got it, I came in (no longer sneaking in!) to pray in each and every room. It just seemed to normal to do that, since it was God who allowed me to have this dream. The main thing that I kept praying for was that this house would be a home, both for me and for those I love. I prayed that they'd feel welcome, comfortable as if it were their own home, and that the Lord's peace would forever flow here. God has answered that prayer. Every single person that's stepped foot in my home has felt at home. Every single one. God's presence rests here and I am so thankful that people can sense that and be comforted when they are here.

Then I thought about the various gatherings and get togethers I've hosted here. I thought about one of my best friends, Kim and how we were here the day before her wedding celebrating her and blessing her. I thought of my family celebrating Mother's Day here the day after that, and then I thought of the summer bible study we held here with young adult women from our church. We were bursting at the seams and I thought of the truth that was spoken during those 4 weeks into hearts that so desperately needed to hear it, perhaps mine needing to hear it the most. I thought of making dinners, chasing Jeff and being chased, painting rooms, sitting and watching election '04 coverage, babies who crawled on the floor, Justin the cat meowing and shedding everywhere. I thought of the fires we had in the pit and the friends who came to hang out. I thought of fights Jeff and I had and how I wished that I wasn't so stubborn. I thought of the way this house looked when I walked in last March and Jeff proposed. Candles were everywhere and he was beaming...I relieved every moment of that memory. Then my mind went to when I prepared for my own wedding, my closest friends coming here and blessing me with their advice, prayers and joy. I thought of mine and Jeff's first night here together as husband and wife, and how it was so not how I thought it would be! I laughed and grimaced and cried as my mind raced, thinking of things I thought I'd forgotten.

I looked outside and wondered, "What have you for me in Maryland, Lord? I know You're in the midst of this but what have you there for me? Will there be a home that's cozy and peaceful and warm? Will people know how You've impacted our lives and see us living for You? Will my friends know me like my friends here know me? The real me?" I thought of Jen and Katie and Louise and Kim. Kim's been gone now for 6 months, Katie's been gone a whole lot longer than that, but what about Jen and Louise? I'm leaving and can't bring them with me. I can't just stop by on my way to my sister's house to see Jen, or sit on the couch for hours upon hours talking with Louise. I won't see their faces every Sunday in church and our 3 weeks left together isn't nearly enough to accomplish all we wanted to do together! "Why God? Jen and I were going to be pregnant together, remember? And Louise is the mentor-friend I've always wanted, honest and wise and silly too. Can't they come too, Lord?" No Kelly, this is for you, I heard. I continued, "Why should I leave my Mom now when she's just about to retire and we'd have lots more time together, and what about when I have children? I want her to be there with me. And my Dad, God, he doesn't know You yet, I have more work to do! Can't we wait?"

The song kept playing, the snow kept falling, and I finally let myself grieve the losses that are about to come. It felt so good to cry hard about these things. My heart was open to feeling the pain and hearing what God was whispering to me in our silence, but I just couldn't decipher it all. It was too much and all I could do was sob with the precious memories floating in my head, all mixed up with gratitude and loss.

"Silent night, holy night. All is calm, all is bright. Round yon Virgin Mother and Child, Holy Infant so tender and mild. Sleep in heavenly peace, Sleep in heavenly peace..."

I wrote this post a few years ago. Jeff and I were very newly married, preparing to pack up and move to Maryland 2 days after Christmas.

As I re-read it tonight, I am comforted that although there was much unknown then, as there is now, we serve a God who knows all things, and works for our good and His glory.

No matter how dark the nights may seem, joy comes in the morning.

You Are My Dream Come True

To My Precious Children, 

There was never a time in my entire life that I did not want to be a Mother.  As a little girl, I would daydream with my dolls, or even my first nieces, about being their Mommy, dressing them up and snuggling them close to me.  As a teen, people would ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up, and my answer was without fail, a Mom.  Knowing that I needed a fallback, I went off to college to become a teacher, until of course, I became a Mother.  As a young woman, my heart wondered when my dream of marriage and babies would come true.  Many other people would scoff at the notion that I wanted to be a Mom.  Surely there was more to life than being just a Mom.  Didn't I care about my degree, wealth, a big house, vacations, nights on the town, livin' it up?

Nope.  

Nothing mattered more to me than getting married and having children, because I always believed that God made me for that purpose.  I never once doubted my desires.  And still, at 31 years of age, I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that I was right.  My life has meaning and purpose beyond my titles as Wife and Mother, but this calling, to be your Mother, tops them all.

The day I found out about each of you was a day filled with unquenchable joy.  That God would choose me to be your Mother was entirely humbling.  That He would trust me with your life, both in and outside of the womb, was a bit scary, but again humbling and joyful nonetheless.  

I couldn't (and didn't!) wait to tell everyone about your upcoming arrival.  I couldn't wait until I could hear your heartbeat, feel your fluttery movements, and touch a round belly, knowing you were just on the other side, being formed and growing strong and healthy.

The moment I first laid eyes on you, after the long, hard work of labor was completed, I knew love like I had never known before.  As I held each one of you and caressed your tiny body, as I hushed your crying and brought you to my breast, in me arose such a fierce love...that if ever, ever your life was in jeopardy, for any reason, I would fight to the death to defend you, even if it meant the death of me.  And I would do it without thinking twice.

Because I am your Mother.

Day in and day out, we go about playing, eating, sleeping, laughing, crying, and learning together about how this Mother-Child relationship works.  Some days we nail it!  But, there are other days, days that are long and draining and I wish them to end so that I can rest my weary soul. Even then, on those difficult days, my love for you never fails.  I push forward, I press on, even when it feels like there is nothing left to give.

Because I am your Mother.

As I have the privilege of watching you grow, I want you to know that I can hardly look at you while you're doing what you do, without my eyes getting wet.  I wish that I could stop time in it's tracks, and stay in these moments forever.  

Jak, I watch how you look at the world and wonder what you're thinking about.  You are so intense and full of passion, yet are so sweet that my heart melts on a daily basis when you tell me that you "lub" me.  I stare at you while you stare out the window, taking everything in, not missing a beat.  I watch you while you play, with your long, slender fingers gently putting puzzle pieces together, or while you run your laps with such wonder around the garage, as if every lap is a new one, worthy of the hearty giggle you give when we lock eyes as you round the corner.  As I tuck you in at night and find the "cags" on each of your teddies, I marvel at how much like your Daddy you are.  Everything has to be done like it's always been done, no matter what.  No finding the "cags" before you're "cucked in", I have to wait until all the covers are on before teddies and prayers, otherwise we have to start all over again from the beginning.  And this, I'm now learning, is how you are wired.  And I'm also learning to appreciate it.

John, I think that I underestimated your sweetness when you arrived.  Every day with you brings out more sweetness than I thought possible, and at the same time you are clearly showing me you are all boy with each new discovery you master!  Your round cheeks and toothy grin send me reeling, and I love to run my fingers through your baby-fine, floppy hair.  I can't get enough of your snuggles and your giggles whenever I do something silly.  You truly are the easiest baby around.  I feel as if I didn't savor the precious time with you early on, but instead just tried to survive the days as best I could.  I'm sorry for that.  I wish that I could go back to those days, but I know I can't.  So,  I savor today.  I savor your soft skin and your baby breath and the fact that you still want me more than anything else, except maybe your bottle or Daddy if he's around.  All too soon, you will be taking those first few steps, steps of independence, steps away from me.

It's only been two and a half years since I became a Mother, so I'm still pretty new at this.  Some day, I'll be much older and you'll be adults too, and the majority of my Mothering will be behind me.  You will no longer come to me and ask "Why?", no longer need a kiss on a boo-boo, not need a bottle or to simply ask me for some fishies. There will be no tiny arms squeezing my neck or tired boys sitting on my lap at the end of a day to read books.  I cry even now, writing this, but I know this is the plan.  It's always been the plan.  You are not mine.  You are only on loan.  I have to keep reminding myself this.  

But I, I am your Mother.  And will always be.

Thank You for making me what I've always wanted to be:  

Your Mother.

"Where did I come from?" the baby asked its mother. She answered, half-crying, half-laughing, and clasping the baby to her breast, "You were hidden in my heart as its desire, my darling. You were in the dolls of my childhood games. In all my hopes and my loves, in my life, in the life of my mother, and in her mother before her, you have lived. In the lap of the eternal spirit you have been nursed and nurtured for ages."
-Indian philosopher and poet, Rabindrandth Tagore

"Hoewee Moewee!"

Yes, that is how we pronounce "Holy Moly!" around here.

It has been far too long since I've written, and really, I have missed it.  I'm not sure if I had blogger's block, or was busy trying to be a really good Mom, or tired, (maybe all 3?) but I'm back and I'm excited about it!

I have a tendency to get real excited about something and then gear up for it in all sorts of ways, and then I become too preoccupied with the excitement itself that the great plan I had just flops.  Perhaps that's what happened here.  I have so many great ideas about my blog, and thoughts or stories to post, and then it fizzles.  Or, maybe I fizzle.

So, I can't promise that I won't be busy or tired or stumped about what to write about again, but I can say that I'll try to not go so long without posting if the above, does in fact, happen again.  :)

..........................Onto more exciting things..............................

Spring is here in WNY, and it is B-U-TEE-FUL!  I remember disliking Spring when I was younger, because it was always so rainy and muddy.  It seemed very dreary.  I wanted to skip past the season, because it really didn't matter much to have this yuck and muck for weeks on end.  Summer needed to come, fast!  

But oh, now I'm older.  And wiser.  I'm 31 now, you know.  And let me tell you, I really enjoy Spring!

It started while I lived in Maryland.  The warm weather, the fresh rains that washed away all of the winter grime, the crisp air that blew the winter stink off of you and out of your house, the cherry blossoms, the buds as they turned into beautiful springtime flowers, full of hope and promise.  Yes, this is when I learned to love Spring.  

Now that I'm back in upstate NY, I don't feel quite as lovingly towards Spring as I did for the past 3 years, since the weather can't make up its' mind and the season starts much later than in the South, but I'll still take it!  I don't love it, but I do like it.  

There is a sense of hope, of promise, in this new season, don't you think?  

We are emerging from the winter season.  A time of rest.  Everything turns inward during winter, to rest for the season.  Days are shorter and nights are longer, the trees are barren, flowers die and recede back into the ground to protect themselves from the cold, animals hibernate, people cuddle up with sweaters and blankets and comfort food, and life seems to march a bit more slowly.

A few long months later, the thaw comes, and we can see the tiniest speck of new life surfacing. Those first few days of warmer air is like a heat wave, and winter coats are shed and windows crack open, just to get a fresh air scent in the house.  For me, when the birds start to sing, is when my excitement comes.  I love waking to their songs, and love seeing robins pecking the ground for worms.  (When my Grandfather died, we found a notebook that he used to jot quick, daily thoughts on.  One of the last things he noted was seeing a large, red-breasted robin in the yard, and he wrote that Spring was 'round the corner.  I can't help but remember my wonderful Grandpa every single time I see a robin.)

Each year, I look around at all of the trees as I drive by, and there is always one specific day where they seem to POP!  A fresh, lime green seems to have colored the tree scape and it is then that I know Spring is officially here.  The old has gone, the new has come!

The sense of newness in Spring doesn't stop with nature.  I sense a newness in me, every season, and I'm pretty sure God intended it to be that way.  Ecclesiastes 3 states:

3:1 To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
3:2 A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
3:3 A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
3:4 A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
3:5 A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
3:6 A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
3:7 A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
3:8 A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.

There is a time for everything!  I'm thankful that with every season, God refreshes and renews me.  I need it.  Don't we all...

All of this new life is so exciting, but the most exciting thing about Spring for me is that I get to worship the risen Christ on Easter Sunday!  You can't get any more renewed than that!  Talk about newness, about beauty, about hope.  There is no hope greater than Him.  And every year, I get to praise Him not only for who He is and what He did, but for what He has done in and through me.  What a privilege.  

As this Spring season rounds out and makes way for Summer, I am excited about so many things.  

It feels like I have been in winter for far too long, figuratively speaking.  There is only so much transition that one can take before it begins to take its' toll on a person.  I am that person. Having felt like I lost my self on so many levels the past few years, I am finally feeling like I am found again, and found as an entirely new person, at that!  Scary, exciting and wonderful all at the same time.  Yay for the promise of a new season, for the promise of new beginnings!

More to come...

What's It Gonna Take? The 'Me vs. We' War

I thought I'd share a BreakPoint Commentary that I heard today, from Chuck Colson. I like to listen to him because many of his commentaries encourage me to think beyond the surface of current issues and look deeper at the impact that these issues have on people all over the world.

"On Monday, the House of Representatives surprised its leaders, the administration, and, most of all, the financial community by rejecting the agreed-upon financial rescue plan. The bill will be debated again tomorrow.

Two-thirds of all Republicans and two-fifths of all Democrats voted against the plan, with predictable results. The markets tanked around the world. We saw a record 777-point drop in the Dow Jones and the worst one-day loss in the S&P 500 since the 1930s. The market recovered somewhat yesterday, but the credit crisis remains.

The explanation of why 228 representatives risked a meltdown in financial markets could be expressed in another set of numbers: Phone calls and emails from their constituents opposed the measure by a 100-to-1 margin.

Now to be sure, some, like my friend Congressman Mike Pence of Indiana, opposed the rescue measure on principle. But many who voted against the bill merely reflected the will of their constituents, who wondered why their money should be used to take other people off the hook.

A very telling poll revealed that 25 percent of those polled favored the measure, 25 percent had no opinion, and the rest opposed it, largely on the grounds that it didn’t affect them or wasn’t their fault. And given what we saw on the television news, for once I believe the polls. The typical man-on-the-street interview went something like this: “The bailout won’t help me! You bet I’m against it.”

Frankly, I was appalled. I can’t help but think that these results illustrate how far we’ve gone down the path of viewing all politics and all of life as “what’s in it for me.”

As many have tried to explain, what is happening on Wall Street affects what happens on Main Street. As I record this, millions of Americans, living far from Manhattan, are measurably poorer as a result of what has been happening in financial markets.

So instead of asking “how is the common good best served?” we look to our own interest, even at the risk of a “decade of little or no economic growth” and a meltdown of the global financial system.

It isn’t only our lack of concern of the common good that disturbs me. It’s also our lack of accountability. I spoke with a very intelligent young banker recently who told me that he encounters it all the time. During his time in risk management, he never heard anybody in foreclosure say, “I made a mistake taking that mortgage. It was too big.”

Instead of acknowledging their accountability—their responsibility to pay the debt—they just shrugged it off, merely mailing the key back to the mortgage holder. Contrast that with a biblical sense of responsibility, of paying your debts.

But this isn’t just about finances. No great civilization has ever been built, or maintained, on the basis “what’s in it for me?” That idea cannot demand, much less inspire, the necessary sacrifices to keep a civilization great, or even healthy—there’s nothing to aspire to apart from fleeting self-satisfaction.

As I said, I respect the principled opposition to the rescue plan by some members. But the fate of the economy is hanging in the balance. If the American people can’t look beyond the “me” and see the “we” with this much at stake, then much more than our retirement funds and our bank accounts are at risk."

"Trust Me."

7ish in the morning, I wake with a sense of purpose for the day. I have a dentist appointment and some other errands to run, so I'm up and at 'em early so that I can get on the road on time.

Jeff lay sprawled out on our bed, breathing deeply and soundly. Jak is in his room, and I tiptoe around the bedroom into the hallway so as not to wake him.

My heart beats fast because I don't know what the next few minutes will bring.

I am nervous. Excited. Impatient.

My cycles were normal up to this point. Now I'm late. I have to take this test, this test that I've put out of my mind for over a week because I couldn't believe that we could be at this point already. I scramble around for it in the drawer, again trying not to wake my boys. I do not want Jeff to know until I know. I can't believe I've even kept it from him thus far.

I pee. I sit. I wait. I watch.

Two lines.

TWO LINES.

Oh my gosh, what are we going to do?! I smile at the wall, now knowing that there is another life inside of me, knowing that my inkling has become a reality, knowing that God has blessed us again without us even asking. Then, the tears come.

Am I really doing this? I am crying because I'm pregnant? What is wrong with me? I have dreamed all my life for these moments, moments in the stillness knowing that I am going to be a Mother. I can't believe I am crying!

These are not tears of joy. They are tears of fear.

What are we going to do? We aren't even sure where we are going to live, what Jeff is going to do with his job, what our goals are for next year! I haven't lost weight yet, I still want to get healthier before another baby.

And yet, I am excited in the midst of the fear tears.

I hear Jak stirring in the next room. Still in shock, I glance at the test and hide it away before Jeff sees it. I have to figure out how I'm going to tell him.

Jak is up, talking away, ready for me to greet him.

I leave the shade closed, the light off. I pick him up, my sweet, smiling boy. Mmm, you smell so good. Ok, I can do this again. He smiles at me. I whisper to him that he is going to be a big brother. The first to know after me. He smiles again. I hold him tight. My sweet baby boy.

We begin our routine: down the stairs and into the kitchen for milk, then into his seat for breakfast. I wander around aimlessly. It is over half an hour before I actually get him something to eat. I'm pregnant. I'm pregnant. I'm pregnant. This thought consumes me.

7:36 am I call my friend. I tell her through the fear tears, and she reassures me that God has ordained this moment, and He is in control. All I need to know is that there is a baby being created in my womb. He'll work out the details of all of my questions.

Jeff comes downstairs, greets us and sits for breakfast. I am quiet. Too quiet, I think, but he doesn't notice. Maybe he just thinks that I'm tired.

Still uncertain of how I will tell him, I decide that I will wait until Sunday to tell him, once he is back from his trip. That will give me a few days to let it sink in, and come up with a thoughtful way to share the news. I can do this. I can wait. And if I wait, then I can also pray that he'll be delighted and not scared like me. I can pray for God to prepare his heart in these next few days.

10ish am I am pregnant. I am pregnant. I am pregnant. It's the only thought running through my head. I smile and nod when spoken to, and I offer Jak some toys so that I don't look completely out of it in front of Jeff. I must not tell him yet. What if he's upset? Not ready? Afraid of the uncertainty surrounding us, like I am?

He speaks of his upcoming trip and asks me a question. Silence. He asks again. "What, honey?, I say." He asks again. "I'm pregnant."

I stand and wait. He looks at me from his seat, glances at my belly, looks up at me again and smiles one of the biggest smiles I've ever seen. He jumps from his seat, takes 2 steps to where I am, and says, "Really?!" "Yes."

I wait.

He takes me quickly in his arms and gives me a tight hug. I cry. I am relieved. I am overwhelmed. I am elated. The fear tears are gone and have been replaced with tears of pure joy, because we are having another child, because my husband is exactly the man that I need, exactly the man that I want. We are blessed. I am blessed.

I ask him my questions. I tell him my fears. He assures me that everything will be fine, it will all work out. I believe him. I trust him. I am so happy that I couldn't hold it in, because his reaction was exactly what I needed, and God knew that. He had prepared Jeff's heart before I could even pray about it, but He also prepared mine, if only I'd have stopped fretting.

"Trust Me, Kelly. Trust Me.", He echoed in my soul.

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My sweet baby boy is 4 months old today. It was 1 year ago today that I found out he was coming.

"The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and I am helped. My heart leaps for joy and I will give thanks to him in song." -Psalm 28:7

My "Hometown Hero"

I had planned on posting this first thing this morning but our day was terribly chaotic. Though no longer the 19th of September over in Afghanistan, the sentiments are still the same.

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We met Steve when we moved into the house across the street from where he lived. It was a new neighborhood for us, and we were certain to make friends with the many kids our age there. Little did we know, moving onto that street was just a tiny piece of the puzzle that was to become our lives.

Stephen was the redheaded kid on the block. The middle child of a family of six, Steve was friendly, polite, and even somewhat shy when he was in my sister's presence. He was a typical boy, outside doing chores or playing whatever game of the day in the street, not to mention teasing people (me!) constantly. Yet, he'd be the first to stand up to a bully if there happened to be one around. Even though I knew that the tables could turn on me and I could soon be his object of torture, I felt safe when he was around.

I'm not sure exactly when it all happened, but he fast fell in love with my sister. He was 13.

I remember him bringing her flowers all the time, and the beautiful jewelry gifts she'd get for birthdays and holidays. Precious Moments were "in" back then and Tracy had at least 20 from him alone, all cutely displayed in her room as a testament of his love for her. While they dated, I learned a lot about the kind of man that I wanted to find by the way Stephen treated my sister: one that would fight for me, romance me, love me with total and utter abandon.

We all knew they'd get married, it was just a matter of time. It took almost 2 years to plan the wedding and in May of 1996, Tracy and Steve said their vows to love, honor and cherish one another no matter what.

12 years of marriage, 5 houses, 4 kids and 2 dogs later, they are still going strong.

This picture was taken 3 years ago at our wedding.

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Here are a few stories about Steve that I cherish.

While nannying in CT, I decided to take a trip to visit he and my sister where they were stationed in MD. After the funniest of travel stories (of which I will spare you during this post), Steve picked me up at the Baltimore train station. It was around 6am and he took a wrong turn. So, here we are, driving around in the purple minivan dubbed the "Plumvee" (Humvee, get it?) in the middle of the ghetto. And I mean the ghett-0. I could sense Steve was a bit lost--and nervous, when I spotted him out of the corner of my eye looking frantically around for some familiar route. I asked him, "Do you know where you're going?" "Kel, we're lost. We're in the ghetto. We gotta get out NOW." Did I feel safe then? Not so much. But, the the feeling returned once we arrived safely home.

Fast forward a few years. I'm living back in NY in my own home, pre-marriage days. I just cooked a scrumptious meal and had leftovers to take care of. Wait, did I say scrumptious? OK, not this story. This story's meal consisted of meat that was eaten (because, perhaps it was scrumptious),and a side dish of cabbage completely raw after hours of cooking. I'm not quite sure what I did wrong, but it doesn't matter. I put the cabbage, raw cabbage, down the toilet, because I remember my Mom sending us to the toilet with leftovers to flush down when I was young. Don't ask me why we did this, because it's not a practice that I'd recommend. Ah, I digress... So I flushed down my lousy meal's leftovers and ended up clogging the toilet. I mean, really clogging the toilet. Jeff and I both tried to fix it and it. wouldn't. budge. I called Steve, the master fixer upper of all things screwy, and he reluctantly came over after about 10 minutes of phone coaching to get the darn cabbage down! I can't quite put into words the looks that I got when he arrived--or when he left, but I can say that he and Jeff were able to help the cabbage along and the toilet was in working order again, less a few scratches from the 30 minute snaking. I am laughing just writing this.

Then there are the countless times he threw me into the swimming pool, fully clothed from my nicely styled hair down to my shoes...

But my favorite memory of my brother-in-law is this one:

After quite possibly the most crushing time in my family's life, Stephen offered me a sense of protection that still lingers to this day. I was sitting in my brother's living room, and the day was nearing an end. My Mom and siblings were present and red-eyed from crying, and Stephen walked into the room. He walked right up to me, whose head was down because I was afraid and embarrassed and stunned, and gave me the biggest bear hug ever. He cried and told me that he was sorry for what had happened, and that it would never, ever happen again. I believed him. I felt safe again. I felt as if my fears were gone because there was this man holding on to me so tightly, who loved my sister more than life and loved me just by association, and he wouldn't let anything happen to us ever again. By his simple gesture of a strong embrace, I felt so loved and cared for despite the turmoil surrounding us.

And today, I can say that I continue to feel loved and cared for by him despite the turmoil surrounding us all.

Steve is at war, in Afghanistan, right now. Today is his 35th birthday. And though I'd rather he be here in the states enjoying normalcy with his wife, boys and newborn daughter, I know that he is over there serving his country with honor and pride.

I look forward to seeing him soon, to introducing his namesake and my son, John Stephen, and to knowing that he is far from battle in the Middle East. But until then, I pray that God will keep him safe and keep him strong.

Happy Birthday, Steve. We miss you and we love you. Jeff reminds you to "Keep it between the ditches!"