Scene 2, Act 1... she reappears

I am not a first trimester blogger. Not with that kind of nausea. I wasn't a first trimester anything. Not a mother, not a house cleaner, not an anything but lay on the couch and pray I don't throw up person. I have finally emerged from the nausea city and sadly entered winter cold land. Not to be confused with winter wonderland. All my kids got sick with colds or bronchitis or ear infections and I was blessed with a hacking cough and sinus infection. Thankfully, we made it through Christmas and we are all on the mend.

Now to face what has been neglected. Everything! Where do I begin. Baby books for the kids, or something more recent, like I can't find the school room. These are the things I contemplate these days. The to do list is so long. Wallpaper peeling, Christmas toys overflowing the playroom, outgrown baby clothes in the wash, dust everywhere, and tree with decorations needing to come down. A call to prayer, I tell ya. Everything a call to prayer. Cause what I really want to do is curl up in a ball on the floor and close my eyes, hoping that when I wake up, all I have neglected is neatly in order and clean.

I have my doctor appointment Thursday. I am 14 weeks. I pray everything is ok. This is the time when I feel nervous, that the baby may not be alive anymore. I am no longer nauseous and I can't feel the baby move yet. I really hate this in between time. Looking forward to hearing that little heartbeat.

On A Mission

My last 3 weeks have been plagued with severe nausea. Morning sickness, inappropriately named, let us part ways sooner than later. This pregnancy has felt the worst so far in the nausea department, but I am certain, it is because I now raise 4 kids while being pregnant. Not an easy job. I have no motivation for anything because all I can think about is how any minute I am going to throw up. How do I give a spelling test when I can't speak? Ahhhhh!

With my other pregnancies I had drugs to make this easier. Well, those drugs are no longer available. I have found a website where you can make your own version using vitamins and over the counter meds that are safe for pregnancy. So I am on a mission to make my own! I took just the vitamin portion today and I have to say I think I see some difference. The intensity has definitely died down. I no longer fear being more than 5 feet from the bathroom and that is a big improvement.

Up until this point, my standby foods and drinks that usually work on my nausea, are NOT working. I can't tolerate anything carbonated. What is that all about? NO COKE! That was my number one anti-nausea drug! And Ginger Ale. Yuck. Again, it's a carbonated thing. Lemons, no go. Crackers, blah! I am losing hope here people. Ginger tea... nada. Chamomile tea... are you kidding me? Mint.... tastes like medicine. And don't get me started on what I can't smell.

Last night, I had one glimmer of hope. One small beacon of light, when I ordered a cinnamon crunch bagel from Panera with cream cheese and it actually tasted good and I didn't throw it up. PROGRESS! Praying for much, much more. And energy. I. AM. A. COUCH. POTATO. The end.

Pregnancy Details

The nurse part of me has to keep up with medical details during all my pregnancies. This one is no different.

First blood test: 4w2d

Progesterone 19.1

Quantitative HCG 626

A1C 5%

Second blood test: 4w4d

Progesterone 14

Quantitative HCG 1,350

Third blood test: 5w1d

Progesterone 16.7

Quantitative HCG 4050

Fourth blood test: 6w1d

Progesterone 19

Quantitative HCG 27,000

First Ultrasound: 6w4d

baby nugget with a beating heart! Yay! No corpus luteum cyst present.

Shelley was so sweet to draw my labs for me. Progesterone has always been an issue and I feel so relieved that it is starting out so good. Normally, I start out around 13. I'm continuing my Progesterone cream 45mg/daily. I am taking supplements for adrenal support, my nerve health, and a liquid vitamin. I am waiting on my iron supplement to come in, as my Hgb was good but my ferritin levels were low. My appointment with Dr. Baker is Tuesday. I will get an IV. I am continuing with my weekly B12/B complex shots.

I don't know how God is going to work with my ongoing health issues during this pregnancy, but so far, so good.

Real Life, Real Feelings

So this is the entry where I talk about more than fun facts, I talk about feelings. Real life, real feelings. In real life, positive pregnancy tests happen. It has happened to me six times now. And even though it was my 6th positive test, if you don't count the follow ups you do to convince yourself the first one was correct and yes, still 2 pink lines, I was still not used to that first line popping up pink, fast, dark. I mean, technically, my period wasn't even late. It wasn't the first morning urine. It was fluke, on a whim, had an extra test laying around, late at night, hmmm, I wonder kinda thing. And that was POSITIVE. My brain, my heart, my soul was struggling to get it's bearings. Processing on so many levels at one time. My hands were shaking, an outward expression of my insides. I rushed to Scot on the bed. Handed him the test and couldn't even speak. His eyes got big. I don't even remember now what he said. I fell back on the bed. I needed him to tell me it was all going to be ok. I know I asked how did God think I could do this right now? What is He up to? What was He thinking?! And Scot, the precious husband that he is went on to talk to me for an hour about the greatest joy in his life was me and the kids. Nothing else mattered, but kids, they matter. And this new baby was going to be such a joy, such a blessing to our family. God will handle the details. He will provide enough for each day. And he laughed a lot. Shocked and excited. And he talked about our car situation and where will the baby sleep. And he was starting to see why God gave us this house. Then he did the most precious thing. He prayed for me. Prayed the first ever prayer for the new baby. How blessed am I?

Rockin With My Girls

God just keeps on blessing us around here in LOTS and LOTS of cool ways. Some I can talk about, like our Steven Curtis Chapman concert tickets we won this past Monday. It was a very specific answer to Avery's prayer. She had asked her dad months ago if we could get tickets. They had a drawing box at Chickfila. He told her the only way she was going was if she won tickets. And she did! So exciting, she cried. It was precious. She brought my phone to me with tears in her eyes and whispered, "we won," as she squeezed her arms tight around me. I'm thinking, "what?" Sure enough, message on my phone from Spirit 106.3. That was a GREAT way to start the week and the concert was a great way to end the week. We even got tickets to a private chat with SCC before the show. Avery, Abby, and I had a blast. An awesome night of worship.

Aubrey also fell and blacked her left eye this week. Not fun. We were doing some clothes shopping and she fell and hit a rolling cart wheel with her eye. I had her eye checked out by the eye doctor today just to make sure she had no internal damage. All looked well. Around her eye... so sad. But she just keeps on going, not missing a beat. Still doing her cute, "Row, row, row," barking dog. Hilarious. Talking up a storm. Running everywhere, carrying her purse full of bracelets, baby hairbrushes, and randomness. She has opinions about clothes, shoes, and what books to read. Her favorite book, Sandra Bouyton, Snuggle Puppy. Why won't Blogger underline!? Ugh.

Benjiboy... how is he so tall? He looks so grown up to me. So big boy. And to me that is devastating. I am not ready for him to grow up at all. I feel like he was just born and now he is having big conversations, using big words and asking to do school work all the time. He is always carrying keys and his wallet or a bucket of tools. Ramona, the dog, is his best friend. He can almost dress himself, sleeps all night most nights, lost his front tooth this year to an abscess from an accident last year, and drives his plasma car or Gator from sun up to sun down. That is if he is not playing soccer in his soccer cleats. I know he's going to ride the plasma car when he comes asking for his "terrible Crocs." The Crocs he destroyed last year. The joy Benjamin brings to my life is indescribable. Having a boy is one of the biggest blessings God has ever given me. I will have a very hard time letting him grow.

Joy In The Unexpected

This post is an interesting chain of events. Not exciting poetry. Just facts with a fun ending.

After my pain med problem, I started the weekend feeling a lot better. I was tired from not sleeping for two days, but grateful the itching was gone. We had a church function Saturday night that I attended for a short time. When Sunday rolled around, I was so very tired. Still.

On Monday morning, my sister called to say they would be in town. I invited them to dinner, because I was too tired to eat out. Especially, at 7:00pm. I wanted to feed little people and put them to be early. We had a great time eating and fellowshipping. My sister's pregnant belly so cute. She asked me to check the baby's position. I felt this little back and tiny rump. The whole time I was thinking how excited I was for her and how thankful I was that my body wasn't pregnant. Not that I don't love babies or children, just pregnancy is exhausting. I am already very exhausted.

After they left, I started to get ready for bed. For about three days, I had been worrying about how bloated I looked. Thinking I possibly had another illness on my hands. Yes, I have way too much medical knowledge. Standing, looking at myself in my closet mirror, it crossed my mind that maybe I don't have a disease... maybe, I'm pregnant. Don't know how that would be possible, as we were trying not to have another baby right now. But I knew a doctor would want me to rule that out first. I dug around and found a pregnancy test. Not even a full 24 hours late yet, but in the back of my mind I guess the thought always lurks.

At 8:00pm Monday night, I got an instantly positive, bright pink pregnancy test. What? How? No Way! Not real!

How's that for fun facts?

Try Not To Scratch

So last night, I decided I was going to be better about not letting my pain get out of control. About 11pm, the pain in my back and neck was about a 6. In my efforts to stay on top of pain, instead of what I normally do, resist medications until I am dead and they are no longer needed, I sweetly asked my husband to bring me a pain pill. I felt great! For one hour. Then the itching started and my body decided I was now officially allergic to this pain pill. 14 hours later... I am at a walk-in clinic getting a steroid shot. Now, in about 4-8 hours, I should stop itching. I pray no one thinks I am contagious with all this scratching.

Medical Mysteries

I have always loved the medical mystery shows. You know, the shows that list crazy and strange symptoms, people going to tons of doctors and no one knowing what is wrong with this person. It always ends up being some kind of weird parasite. At least, the ones I have seen. As a nurse, I am intrigued by these shows and determined to solve the mystery before the doctor does. Again, I guess weird parasite....??? But the best part of the show, is the follow up. The people are well and happy to no longer be the medical mystery star.

I haven't been offered a part, but I am a candidate for the show for sure.

I am on a quest. Pray and Google. My prayer, God please help me solve my health problems while I Google symptoms.

I hope we are on to something. My next doctor appointment in less than 2 weeks!

A Call To Prayer

I am working so hard at this... in the flesh, no success... in the Spirit, blessed.

And since this is a spiritual discipline the Lord has on my daily homework, it becomes my kid's spiritual homework also. I am not speaking this to them directly and they do not know they have been given an assignment. But I ask the Holy Spirit each day to teach this to my children, that all of life is a call to prayer.

Tonight, my oldest, had a tough decision to make. Enjoy the family camp out in the backyard or work on pricing things for a yard sale she had been invited to join down the street. And this was a really, REALLY difficult decision for my entrepreneur. She has sown Barbie blankets, braided friendship bracelets and purged her belongings for days now. Oh, how she loves the idea of making money. Now the hard decision, climb in the tent with daddy and siblings or sit in the house pricing and setting alarms for 5:30am.

The Holy Spirit prompted me. And I spoke. Do you really think you should be spending your time on a yard sale and getting up early, when you could be spending time with daddy? He's really tired and has worked hard to have a camp out with you. And I saw the protest. I knew it would come quick. I mentioned it sounded like she had some thinking to do. It sounded to me like it was time to ask the Lord.

She finds me a little while later. She has tried what I said, but she's still confused. We talked about how sin separates us from God. Maybe confession was in order.

Then, a little while later.... still no answer. I ask, have you spent time in His Word today? No, she hadn't found time for that. Feed your soul, I say.

And then, she comes to me smiling. That smile, that peace. I know so well. The privilege of the Holy Lord God speaking clearly. So clearly, that your heart is bursting with joy. He answered.

Matthew 6:34

"Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble."

The Favor of God

Psalm 5:12 ¹²For you bless the righteous, O LORD; you cover him with favor as with a shield.

What a beautiful word picture. The righteous are shielded with favor! Oh, how grateful I am that I am clothed in His righteousness, that I am always shielded with favor. Because every day of my life, I need God's favor. Our Ramsgate house is still on the market after many months. It has been a great faith building event this year. And I know the delay is not a delay to Him at all. I know He has a plan and a purpose in all things. Even this thing. This very hard thing... that touches your money. Ahem, HIS money. Yes, health and money, those two seem to be some of the hardest things to deal with. To continue in faith, in trust. Health and money have been joining hands together this year for a double dose of faith building. Like having to do the elliptical and StairMaster simultaneously. Right! See what I mean? It doesn't even sound possible. But today, I'm just thinking, it must be the shield thing. God's gracious favor shielding us with extra faith, extra peace, extra rest and extra money to make this kind of workout possible. Thank you God for shielding me with your favor.

When you open your eyes....

And all is still dark, what do you do? You prayed last night, as your head found that perfect spot on the pillow, Lord let there be light. And when you wake to darkness, does it mean He does not answer prayer? That He is not listening? It feels that way sometimes. It's one of the enemy's greatest lies. "God does not love you," xo Satan. But if we could really see, which we can't according to 1 Corinthians 13, we see but as a poor reflection in a mirror. If we could really see, we would see the battle all around us. The spiritual battle. The enemy waging war with our soul, keeping us in darkness. And until... until we fight. Until we suit up for battle, Ephesians 6, we will remain in darkness. This spiritual battle is VERY real. This battle is heavy duty. It's life and and it's death. And if you think at this point I'm exaggerating, the question begs the answer, who's side are you on? The enemy doesn't have to kill his own, they are already spiritually dead. If you find that you might be spiritually dead, if the the Holy Spirit is sending off some signals right about now, there is a Savior who LOVES you SO much and while joining His side means a life and death battle..... He WINS! That's right! We may suffer, but our suffering is not in vain. We will reap a great reward in eternity with Him forever. And HE WINS! The enemy knows this and he will do whatever he can to make sure you die before you receive life. So choose LIFE! Yes, it's hard. Yes, it's messy. And yes, sometimes it's dark. But in prayer, His light pierces the darkness and like the sunrise filling the sky with light, His love fills your soul with an everlasting light that can NEVER be extinguished. What a promise!

And all is grace

I will say it again, repeat it over and over, until the words come consistent, like the next heartbeat. Steady and sure. For it is in these days, these deep dark days, that I must say it again, believe with every fiber of my being that which I have learned... "God is good and I am always loved and all is grace," Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts. For I wrestle not with flesh and blood but with powers, principalities and powers of the air (Ephesians 6). My battle felt so fiercely in the flesh and mind, and the enemy continues to keep me there. Flesh, flesh, flesh he taunts in my ear. A CALL TO PRAYER. Every moment of difficulty, a call to prayer. Every moment of desperation, a call to prayer. Every moment of confusion, a call to prayer. Every moment of uncertainty, a call to prayer.

praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication. To that end keep alert with all perseverance, making supplication for all the saints Ephesians 6:18

And I find myself on my face before the throne. And all is grace.

Filling in the gaps...

It seems I've been doing a lot of that lately. Gap filling. All these holes in my life, my heart, my head, my memory. And then the holes in this blog. What can I say about these holes? Especially, when I know what the holes represent. They represent a whole other part of me. A part I often feel reluctant to share or verbalize with anyone, but especially myself. I am not sure I want to fill those holes. And then that's what they become. Holes. I forget very important, very life changing, life altering events. They become part of someone else's life. Not my own.

9/11/01-I remember watching the first tower on fire in my living room in my house in Lowell. Avery was one. She was asleep. Scot was at work. I sat in front of the tv all day watching the tragic events unfold. What I don't remember... the hole from that event? A very big thing to forget. My husband was to be in New York city that day, on that street, right near Ground Zero. How does one block that kind of information from their memory? I have a knack for it. For it wasn't until today, that my husband recounted the events for me, did these memories float to the surface. How at the last minute, his trip was canceled by the bank in New York because they weren't quite ready for the conversion. How the night before 9/11 we were at a football game at the U of A. And the next day, shocked and stunned that he and my brother were not there in harms way. And how a week and an half later, my husband and brother were standing as close as allowed to Ground Zero, me on the cell phone, as they told me what they saw. The most disturbing scene besides the massive destruction, all the missing posters. Everywhere you looked, thousands and thousands of posters. People looking for their loved ones. In late 2001, we would become pregnant with our second child. Her due date.... 9/11.

Recovery Mode

I had a wonderful conversation with Annette Melton today, in which she reminded me of the many who have gone before me. How she has gone before me. Remembers the days she wasn't sure she could make it. How busy, how tired, how weary she was. How she remembers her oldest bearing much of the burdens and what a wonderful man he has become. And it encouraged me so much. I am deep in the valley right now. Very deep. Exhausted and depleted in every area possible. Mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually. I know it's not the bottom, but I know what the bottom looks like from here. It's just time to take it one day at a time. Recovery.... moment by moment, breath by breath. I need to focus each day on doing some simple things to begin the recovery process. Because everyday my mind is going so fast with all there is to do. And I run out of energy mid morning with a list a mile long. I need to get back to the very basics. Bible, prayer, food and water, sleep. Anything I can add to that will just be a blessing!

Scot's 39th Birthday

Wow! I feel the same way when the kids birthdays come. How is my husband 39? Weren't we just dating, like yesterday? He was 21. I was 17. Seriously? How did this happen?

I looked across the table at him, Friday night, and I was overwhelmed. Stunned by the passing of time, but grateful. Because time in a marriage, is a blessed thing. In this passing of time, from 21 to 39, I have watched my husband become a great man of God. I have been honored to watch God stretch him, test him, mold him into something grand. Those lines he has around his eyes, I know when each one formed and why. The gray, peppered through his hair... I know how much he's longed for it. How many times he has asked me if he getting anymore, with great anticipation, he desires a head full of it. While I, rush to cover mine up. Not him, he's grateful for the aging. He appreciates what the Bible has to say about gray hair. He loves that it means wisdom. It means years of pouring out your heart to the Lord, in deep struggle to stay afloat. He's earned the gray, and he knows it. He feels it. There may be wrinkles forming around those pool blue eyes, and gray through his hair, but he wears them both like a badge of courage. And I am proud. Proud of my courageous husband. He's taken some very bold steps this year. He has stepped WAY out of his comfort zone. He has allowed himself to walk through God's refining fire. I only pray, I can wear my own age with such courage and conviction. He inspires me to. Everyday. Happy birthday babe! I love you!

Out of the mouth's of babes....

After a long 4 months, I lie down weary, tired, broken. I've worked all day to get to nap time, strategically planning every move. Breakfast from Chick-fil-A for the birthday girl, piano, chores, laundry, activity to wear out the little ones, and finally, nap time arrives. But for my little Benjiboy, eyes wide, no rest is needed. Why? Why on the perfectly planned days, the days when my eyelids droop so heavy, I try so hard, does this little one not rest? I scratch his back, I sing him songs. He pokes my eyes, tries to open my mouth, sticks his little foot on my face. Sigh. A long heavy sigh. Prayer. Please Lord, please make him sleepy. I spank to no avail. He's not going to settle. I pull him close, whisper words of love. I tell him God has great plans for him. He closes his eyes, shakes his little head knowingly, forms his lips to agree. I recite Jeremiah 29:11, saying each word slowly, intentionally. His eyes open and grow large. He says, "Um, I'm not gonna do that plan. I have a different plan. I gonna do that plan on Thursday." I hold back laughter bursting from the seams. "Oh, ok," I say, "Well, God still loves you very much." But the truth runs from the mouth of babes. God offers me His plan, one of love and promise, mercy and grace, suffering and peace, eternal promise, and I turn away. I have plans. My own plans. My own schedule to follow. How often, I rush into the day, a day He has given, I rush right past HIS plans, HIS schedule, to check my own. But oh, how He loves me. How He graciously guides me back into His will, gently reminding me how good it feels, how peaceful it feels to follow His plan.

Random Thoughts

Abby's birthday pool party is tonight. 60 guests anticipated. What in the world?

We've been living here one week and 4 days. Again, who throws a huge birthday party with 60 guests after one week and 4 days? Crazy people. And yes, I am admitting, I have some serious mental health issues.

My body is breaking down completely. Surprised? Didn't think so. I need to go stay a week in a medical spa. In the past 4 days, I have had one massage, one chiropractic adjustment, 5 emergen-C packets, 4 gummy vitamins, 2 multi-vitamin packs, 5 aleve, 8 ibuprofen, 2 sleeping pills, 2 Midol, and 1 muscle relaxer. If the pain pills didn't make me so nauseous, I would have taken one. Yes, this is what I've been reduced to. Along with frequently laying on the bare floor with an ice pack to my head. Oh yes, and traveling with the ice pack to Bible study, talking to myself about how people this sick should just be in bed. But the Word of God, oh, how I needed the Word.

The in-laws are here. They showed up yesterday afternoon with my house full of people helping to support me in my insane idea of unpacking and remodeling my house in one week and 4 days. So thankful for those people. And my sweet OCD friend, who in record time helped me turn my school room into bliss. Oh how I love her. And what a true friend she is to give up her Friday to help her haggard looking friend that was alternating between helping and laying on the floor with an ice pack, praying out loud not to throw up. Yep, that's a good friend. She just kept working like this was nothing unusual. I love her.

Thankful for my other awesome friend, willing to come flat iron my hair at 9pm. She's great at sensing desperation. And talking with her always energizes me. She is such a giving and thoughtful friend.

I am blessed to be in this house. And after this weekend, after the party and the Anita Renfroe concert Sunday night, I am declaring Monday a no work day. No school, no work, no cooking, no laundry, no unpacking..... NO WORK!

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

For in my weakness, He is strong!

A new home and an old home

I've officially lived in our new home for one week and one day.

And I'm exhausted. I've taken no pictures. But my precious parents and many, many friends have helped us to move and I am so grateful. My house would not be in the wonderful condition it is without the help of so many. We have been blessed with many wonderful meals, phone calls, hands to work and hands to paint and hands to babysit. God is so good and faithful. We prayed so much for our move and he answered all our prayers and blessed us beyond belief with His great provision. Right down to a break in the heat and perfect weather for moving all our belongings.

I am now down to working on smaller areas that our big jobs. Like the school room. But oh how I love the feeling of knowing I am settled. That I have no need to move unless God moves me. Our family is loving our new house. The space, the storage, the pool, the feel of it. All of it, every inch of this home a huge blessing to our family.

The long hot baths I love so much are still wonderful and relaxing here. I have found a new sacred place to think, pray and relax.

I am tired. I am weary.

But God is strong and oh so good to me.

One Thousand Gifts

I love this author. I've read her book three times. It's all marked up and it never leaves it's special place. I loved this recent post she had. You can read her posts daily here.

Thinking about words I wrote in One Thousand Gifts: What in the world, in a world of certain loss, is grace? And the more of the blessings I name, this theological problem deepens… If I am numbering gift moments to one thousand and now beyond—what moments in my life count as blessings? If I name this moment as gift, grace, what is the next moment? Curse? How do you know how to sift through a day, a life, and rightly read the graces, rightly ascertain the curses? What is good? What counts as grace? What is the heart of God? Do I believe in a God who rouses Himself just now and then to spill a bit of benevolence on hemorrhaging humanity? A God who breaks through the carapace of this orb only now and then, surprises us with a spared hand, a reprieve from sickness, a good job and a nice house in the burbs—and then finds Himself again too impotent to deal with all I see as suffering and evil? A God of sporadic, random, splattering goodness—that now and then splatters across a gratitude journal? Somebody tell me: What are all the other moments? …. To read His message in moments, I’ll need to read His passion on the page; wear the lens of the Word, to read His writing in the world. Only the Word is the answer to rightly reading the world, because The Word has nail-scarred hands that cup our face close, wipe away the tears running down, has eyes to look deep into our brimming ache, and whisper, “I know. I know.” The passion on the page is a Person, and the lens I wear of the Word is not abstract idea but the eyes of the God-Man who came and knows the pain. … I stand in our bedroom by the window and hold a cue card to the light I’ve had for years, carried around with me. I can hardly now make out the water-splat words of Isaiah 14:24, “Surely, just as I have intended so it has happened, and just as I have planned so it will stand” (NASB). As God plans … so it stands. I read the faded ink below, and I remember what I felt the day I copied those words, “Does disaster come to a city unless the Lord has planned it?” (Amos 3:6). And I feel it again today and I breathe: A good God plans everything. Everything. So a good God can only … make plans for good? He only gives good gifts? A thing of evil cannot be created by a good God? … Without God’s Word as a lens, the world warps. … I awaken to the strange truth — that all new life comes out of the dark places, and hasn’t it always been? Out of darkness, God spoke forth the teeming life. That wheat round and ripe across all these fields, they swelled as hope embryos in womb of the black earth. Out of the dark, tender life unfurled. Out of my own inner pitch, six human beings emerged, new life, wet and fresh. All new life labors out of the very bowels of darkness. That fullest life itself dawns from nothing but Calvary darkness and tomb-cave black into the radiance of Easter morning. Out of the darkness of the cross, the world transfigures into new life. And there is no other way. Then … yes: It is dark suffering’s umbilical cord that alone can untether new life. It is suffering that has the realest possibility to bear down and deliver grace. And grace that chooses to bear the cross of suffering overcomes that suffering…. My pain, my dark—all the world’s pain, all the world’s dark—it might actually taste sweet to the tongue, be the genesis of new life? Yes. And emptiness itself can birth the fullness of grace because in the emptiness we have the opportunity to turn to God, the only begetter of grace, and there find all the fullness of joy. So God transfigures all the world… I have hacked my life up into grace moments and curse moments. The chopping that has cut myself off from the embracing love of a God who “does not enjoy hurting people or causing them sorrow” (Lamentations 3:33), but labors to birth grief into greater grace. Isn’t this the crux of the gospel? The good news that all those living in the land of shadow of death have been birthed into new life, that the transfiguration of a suffering world has already begun. That suffering nourishes grace, and pain and joy are arteries of the same heart—and mourning and dancing are but movements in His unfinished symphony of beauty. Can I believe the gospel, that God is patiently transfiguring all the notes of my life into the song of His Son? What in the world, in all this world, is grace? I can say it certain now: All is grace. I see through the woods of the world: God is always good and I am always loved. God is always good and I am always loved. … And all is grace — only because all can transfigure. Shaun will sing it this morning here — All’s grace…And we’ll be sharing a few clips of him singing here out here in the farm fields, us talking about how God has changed how we see. God’s got a message in Shaun’s music that’s grabbed hold of me and won’t let me go. And I’ll listen to the songs and I will believe again that God is transfiguring all that hurts into the hope of His glory and I will think of this powerful story, this clip here below. A video I’ve watched how many times? The powerful, heart-rendering story of a couple that can look into the face of their own deep suffering and say it too, because they know the love of their Father: This is grace. This was grace – short film from Andrew Laparra on Vimeo. (RSS readers can click here to watch this never-forget-it video within the post) :: :: :: 08.22.11