more than that...

i was laying in bed, snuggling ephraim, when suddenly the little one inside gave a firm 'thump'.
It's weird how his little movements just stretch my heart and soul to welcome him in - deeper and deeper every day it seems. And then i realized that i'm almost 22 weeks into this pregnancy and i want to write about it. i want to write about being big enough for maternity, but small enough that i can still squeeze into some half normal stuff too.

me at 20 weeks

i want to write about feeling so amazingly done with nausea - but so tired i could fall asleep on my feet... i want to write about loving being pregnant - feeling content in this mid-pregnancy stage - knowing it will get harder, and appreciating the way that motherhood grows on our very person in the most exquisite state of expectation.

More than that...

i want to write about agonizing about his name... waking up in the middle of the night - reading and re-reading meanings, possible nicknames, and different individuals reactions to having owned the name i'm contemplating for my tiny son. (i remember reading an article while pregnant with Ephraim called, "What the eph?!" - Apparently he wasn't a fan of the name his mama chose for him...) And while i struggle with the possibility that this little one will one day look at me with exasperation and ask, 'What were you thinking when you named me, mama?' - i guess in the end, we'll give him a name that resonates with us - and hope that he will end up living up to it - and that he will end up loving it because we gave it to him... and if i have to explain myself... i guess i will.

More than that....

i want to write about feeling grateful - the words taste like a werthers candy in my mouth every time i say, "Can you go put that in the baby's room?" 
The baby's room...

i wonder what i'll need - since it has been three years since we had a tiny baby - and with our fourth son, i know that some of the ratty things will have to go and i'll want to buy some fresh treasures for my fresh newborn... But at this stage - this 'in between stage' where there are still months to go - even though there are months already gone - i know it's still too soon, so i bide my time - feeling him thump and kick and grow stronger and bigger inside. i name and rename him, feeling like he's still half a stranger - but knowing that i would die for the tiny stranger making his home in my body. i think, i contemplate, i treasure these moments in my heart - knowing how fleeting these 18 weeks are between now and my due date. 

And i guess there's nothing more to say... than that.

gone

Neil travels.
What? i've mentioned that before?
oh.
Well, it's on my mind today. After a nice little break in and around Christmas time, the bulk of January has been spent on the road. And it's funny, but i was noticing the other day that wow - is there ever a HUGE variance in how i react to his absences.
Sometimes, it's great - i plug in, i get lots done, i'm absorbed in my work and the joy of this sweet little life we've carved out - and the week flies by... But other times... like this week - his leaving hits like a sucker punch and i spend the whole week winded on the floor...
Maybe it had something to do with him leaving before the birds had awakened on a Saturday morning... i hate when he's gone all weekend... i miss our coffee on the couch waiting for his parent's predictable Saturday morning phone call... i miss being with him when it seems like every other family is together - the comfort of his shoulder beside mine in church, his teasing nature with our little boys who need their daddy...
Or maybe it was just time for a sucker punch...
Regardless, i want to tell you something really neat.
We don't all have husbands that travel... But all of us who are married? We're involved in some really sanctifying work... Whether i'm plugged in, chugging along, booking his dentist appointment for the 12 hour slot that he'll be home or whether i'm reeling from his absence catching sobs in my throat as i check my email for the 40th time in the past 12 hours - hoping for an update - i'm in this beautiful thing that has the capacity to purify me if i let it.

i replay in my mind again and again those five kisses he sprinkled on me as i rubbed the sleep from my eyes and whispered, 'goodbye'... i pray for him... every morning with all those little blond heads bowed all around me - that God would grant him favour with his bosses and customers, that he would be protected in all he does, and that his heart - wherever it is - would be turned to ours as ours are turned also to his...
i had a dream last night - that i was having a conversation with Jesus... but that throughout the conversation i kept on turning away, looking towards the door, waiting for Neil to arrive...
Finally, i realized that this nail biting anxiety was doing nothing but distracting me from the beauty of my present company...
And it was just one flash of a night of bizarre dreams that wouldn't leave me alone until my eyes opened groggily to face another day... but the thought sticks with me even now...
Yeh... i love him... and maybe i even i miss him more than i should...
But maybe too, i needed the reminder to fix my eyes on my present company - and enjoy the sweetness of these moments with the ones i love - even though i'd sure give a lot to be able to be with their daddy.
Marriage is sometimes watered by faithfulness, by loving in absence, by trusting in silence, by *being* without acknowledgement. Marriage isn't always about protection (though - beautifully, it has been that too...) but it's sometimes about sharpening, preparing, making ready and growth.
And i'm grateful that all this can happen... even when he's gone.

to the teens in my life...

What a strange world we've given you to grow up in.
i remember once as a young girl, hearing a song of teen angst sung on the radio by a teen wonder.  i was transfixed - hearing the whole quivering mess of childhood pain sung by a girl who was close to my age. But i remember my mom, who was with me at the time murmuring, "That's totally unfair to put her on the air in all her vulnerability like that..."
And while i think that art and poetry and music created and performed by young people can be heart breakingly beautiful - and necessary -  (i really, really love Cai's blog...) - as a mama of teens myself now, i understand my mom's protective intuition for the girl whose pain was broadcast for our entertainment.
Now - you're facing a world that is almost unrecognizable from the one i grew up in 20 years ago. i've seen you post status updates on facebook that are full of profanity, sexual innuendo or depression. i've seen pictures on instagram from little girls who have the bodies of women... pictures of them weeping, half clothed, half broken, half searching... "See, world? This is how i feel..."
And my heart breaks for you...
Cai told me that a lot of teens weed out any adults that might be following their feeds on social media because they're looking for an audience of contemporaries that won't question them about their online jokes about homosexuality or pedophilia - new edgy words to them, not carrying the gravity that they should... and they will... when they're ancient like me.
Sloanie and i were talking the other day and she laughingly told me that when she was little, she was scared of Aladdin - but she was too shy to tell me. She glanced at me with a gleam in her eye and a wry smile on her face, "Is it fun learning everything about me that i was too quiet to tell you then?" (She was a very quiet little girl - with serious big blue eyes - just taking in the world...)
And i have to admit that it is. It's so fun being a mama to teens and hearing them begin slowly... to voice their opinions, to voice their experiences as they begin to process their childhoods in the safety of a conversation with their mama. i told Sloan that i seriously think we process our childhoods for the rest of our lives. i'm sure still processing mine... This is normal, natural - and probably a little embarrassing at times as we work out our faith, find our maturity and hopefully grow to become better people...
So, teens, i know - we've made you a little vulnerable with all these available opportunities to exploit your own selves on the internet... i'm sorry for that... But it's also given you a unique opportunity to be a beacon of hope to the other teens around you. Have the courage to abstain from jokes about things that aren't funny. People will notice - even if you think they don't. i remember Cai being shocked after working at Dairy Queen for several months, when someone pointed out that she was the only person at work that they had never heard swear... They noticed she was consistenly different. Be different. You're not being a stick in the mud - you're being a life preserver in a culture that's drowning...
Need some hints?
Premarital sex isn't funny. Drunken vomiting messes? They aren't funny either. Predators - pedophiles, stalkers, rapists and profanity... nope. Leaving a footprint on the internet that leaves you feeling shame - or hurts others who you may or may not know today who will enter your lives in the following years and will see the weedy seeds you're sowing now? That's not cool. You'll regret it.
Step back, don't press "enter", ignore, delete offensive comments from others on your wall, send private messages to your Christian friends - edifying them and encouraging them... persevering and leading the way. 'Friend' your parents, your aunties and uncles, the adults in your life who are most likely to keep you accountable and who will watch your feed because they love you. Imagine your sweet little brother, your precious niece, your cousins, your grandmother - reading your feed... be humble and respectful. You can do it.  i've seen teens doing it... defying the trend to descend to the lowest common denominator and instead choosing better, leading by example and gently, consistently  expressing what bits of truth they're learning...
You're a teen - not a little child... you're close enough to adulthood to be able act like one... even when you feel like you're swimming upstream and you'd give anything to be able to just fit in and go with the flow... trust me - even now i know what that feels like.
And i know - each of you teens that i know could point to a half dozen adults who blatantly ignore the advice i've doled out above. These 'adults' are posting half naked pictures and bashing their spouse online, they're swearing and bragging about their daily alcohol intake in an attempt to appear relevant... and you're watching and wondering if that's just how it is...
It doesn't have to be.
Choose better.

vulnerability

"Forgetting what is behind, and straining toward what is ahead. I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus."

It was as i was looking forward to Christmas that i realized that my heart felt lighter. It felt like i was finally released from the sickness of grief and sorrow. i felt happy and hopeful. Despite horrendous morning sickness, i was excited to go spend Christmas with my in-laws. New Years came - and the lightness didn't go away - or rather... my sorrow didn't return - and i felt like i had finally - after a year - gained enough distance to appreciate a little bit of perspective.

Healing can come so slow sometimes.

i was talking to a friend one day who drew the comparison of Lot's wife - who became a pillar of salt when she couldn't stop looking back at the complete destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. She said, she thought maybe we can be a little bit like that when we allow our eyes to become transfixed by the devastation in our past - sometimes we need to look ahead a little bit and press on, putting one foot in front of the other until we're out of the thick of it lest we become completely immobilized by the chaos we're leaving behind.

Maybe i've been a little salty this year...

So i was thinking about blogging forward.
And i realized that one of the things that i lost this past year was a tiny bit of my willingness to make myself vulnerable. What if someone uses my vulnerability against me? What if my weakness are wielded like a weapon? What if my struggles are lauded as failures and my intentions questioned and ridiculed. What if everyone around me changes - and i find myself alone and unloved?
Yeah? What then?
The reality is: i will fail. i'm human and vulnerable but if i ever want to be used - i'm going to have to be authentic... and that will always leave room for the scorn of others.
But the reality is also this: this blog has never - ever - been about the infallibility of Paige. It has always and only been about the Goodness of God.
And that?
That won't change.
And so i'll blog - if He asks me to... and i'll blog oftener - if i ever get my computer fixed.
And maybe i'll learn one day to understand the destruction in my past without letting it immobilize me - or define me - or limit what i can or cannot do.
Because, "our citizenship is in heaven and we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ, who by the power that enables him to bring everything under his control will transform our lowly bodies so that they will be like [His]."

And do i ever want to be like Him.

fourth son

Hi dolly.
i keep thinking about you.
It's actually fairly constant.
At nearly 20 weeks, you're big enough to make yourself known in my shape, in my agility, in my night wakings with your gentle nudges and rollings...
You're my son.
My fourth son.... my eighth child...
And it struck me tonight as i was driving down the road, turning a corner that will lead me straight to our house - your house too -  that sits on a bustling street in our little neighborhood... That you're my first.
You're my first you.
Nobody will stretch me as a mother like you will.
Nobody will bring home the friends that you will.
Nobody will smell just exactly the way that you smell - or impact our family the way that you already have.
It looked like, in the ultrasound, you had a profile somewhat like Gage's... It seemed to me, that your little feet were turned quite a bit - just like all your brothers feet have been. You, like your siblings before you, are a combination of genes from your tall impatient daddy and your short irritating mama...
But you're the only you.
Nobody elses genes will make quite the combination that yours will - to create just the person that God destined you to be...
Our fourth son.
And i find that i can't wait to lay my eyes on you.
i wonder at a loving Father who chose to send you... to us... right now...
He saw fit to send you to a loud house. One with lots of bodies, one with a daddy who travels and a mama who just came through a hard year. He decided to send you to me now - when i'm ripe with age and experience. Daddy has way more grey in his hair... i have way more creases around my eyes. He blessed this mama with you when your sister talks about her grade 12 year coming up, graduation, moving out, college and life and everything that comes after...

And i wonder sometimes, little son of my heart... if you'll know... if you'll understand... your uniqueness. There is a purpose and a plan for your life - you are the workmanship of a creative Father. You were created to do good things - which have already been planned in advance for you to do.
And as you grow - i grow - both physically and spiritually... to accommodate you in my body, in my life, in our home, in this family... You and i are probably the most aware of this growth - my body holding yours as it develops within.
And so i suppose it's no wonder that you're so constantly on my mind.
There is so much that i wonder about you...

And yet enough that i know:

Your life was breathed by God. You were created in His image. You were not brought to life by my will or your daddy's - but by the will of God.
This. This is enough.
i trust God - who sent you - who gives good gifts - and who gave us to each other.
And baby, i hope you will too.