Category Archives: Sacred Mundane

God is so good. That’s the first thing I just have to say.  My life still feels a little crazy right now (a lot crazy), but on Monday God just gave me a big huge perspective change like only He can do. I really will share the rest of my fun stories with you, but also wanted to stay current and praise God for His Work.  Saturday-Monday we made three offers on houses and all three were rejected, and by Monday morning…

darn!  Heidi just woke up crying.  Ok, this post will wait.  I WILL keep trying to blog! I WILL keep trying to blog! Please don’t give up on me world! I want to share so much but need to be a mommy too… 🙂

*Warning, this post includes accounts of explosive infant poop.

First it must be said that my hospital stay was amazingly wonderful.  With Dutch I was so anxious to get home and in my own bed, eating my own food, and not smelling that wretched hospital smell that I couldn’t leave soon enough.  So this time I was thinking that as soon as they said I could go home I would.  The first night started out rough; Heidi apparently had lots of amniotic fluid/blood in her stomach so she was fussy/spitty/upset all evening. But the blessing was that a friend of mine, from church, is a labor and deliver nurse there at the hospital.  And, amazingly (coincidence? I think not!) she was on duty from 7pm-7am both nights that we were there (which was amazing because she had many days off before and then an entire week off after).  So she was there to help, to take Heidi for us, and just somehow made everything feel wonderful to me.  And I soon discovered, why on earth would I want to go home when I have my meals brought to me, constant care, a jacuzzi bathtub in my room, and a friend with me all night long to take Heidi so I can sleep?  Pretty good deal! Plus I knew a sick two-year-old was awaiting me at home…This time in the hospital, I had no complaints!  Hospital food?  It’s fabulous when it’s brought to you and you’re starving!  I was definitely less picky the 2nd time around! 

The second night Jeff went home to take care of Dutch, who was pretty sick and sleep-deprived by this point.  So he went and had Daddy-Dutch night and Heidi and I stayed. 

Coming home was a shock.  Dutch was still sick, and Jeff needed to get back to work that day.  So we came home that morning, Dutch went into massive panic mode only wanting MOMMY.  Wanting mommy to read, Mommy to hold him, mommy to give him his banana, mommy to carry him around.  Plus he was sneezing everywhere and coughing, so I was constantly wiping down him, me, hands, surfaces, with lysol wipes, and trying to keep him from touching Heidi or her blankets.  Amazing. By Wednesday night when Jeff got home, the house looked like a hurricane hit, and I said to please call my parents and ask them to come the next day.  🙂  They did.

And then it got so much better.  Each day has been better and better. What’s funny is that all week I said, “I”ll be ok as long as the house doesn’t show.”  So what happens? Late thursday night we get a call that the house is showing Friday. :-).  So we clean, then pack up and adventure out Friday afternoon.  Then, Saturday morning, we get a call that the house will show again that very day at 11:30am.  So Megan comes over and hangs with the kids while we straighten up, then we pack up and head to the park for the afternoon with a picnic lunch.  During this time Heidi and I stayed in the car, and she had the most massive explosive poops–three of them!  When I took off her diaper for the first one, it had gone all the way up her back to her neck :-).  Soaked through all her clothes and her blanket. I took off her diaper and started wiping, and she pooped again on me!  Just as I cleaned up that one with a million wipes, she poops out another one!  By now there is poop everywhere and all I can do is laugh.  Eventually we get her clean, back in her carseat totally naked (I ran out of clothes for her!) and we have our picnic lunch in the car.  It was actually an awesome memorable adventure! Then, as soon as we get home, I get another call from a realtor–the house is showing again tomorrow! By now I am laughing out loud. Three times in our first five days at home? What are the odds? Ok Lord, I get it.  You’re in charge. 

—I had to end this post and save it as a draft, and it’s hilarious looking at it now because the second week of HEidi’s life has been so much more insane than the first week I am now laughing.  I have much more to write now but no time to do it! The house ended up showing SIX times the first week of HEidi’s life, and then SOLD the day Heidi turned one week! 🙂  Wow.  I now have TWO unbelievable poop stories, a Butt Paste story that will horrify you, and just for the record, I’ve spent the last two hours crying. 

So, more to tell.  “The First Five Days” has turned into “The First Month” because we are now moving in three weeks! Ha!  And I’m supposed to start back at my internship this week, doing 10 hours of work each week. Hmmm. ANd I have no idea where we’re moving.  Did I mention both my kids seem to have exploding poop episodes more often than normal?  ANyway, many more fun stories to tell, just no time right now because Heidi’s needing me and the dryer buzzer just went off.  I’m perfecting the one-handed laundry-fold, dish-washing, typing, you name it. 🙂  Lots of fun stories to tell…the problem is that I have to live through them.

So there you have it. More to come.  “The First Month” will be nothing but fun stories that hopefully demonstrate God’s sweet mercy in the midst of a crazy season. Enjoy.

*Some of you will not care about labor stories…if that’s you feel free to skip this one.  Some of us strange girls love them.

Well I am breaking my own rule, just this once, of sleeping when Dutch & Heidi are sleeping.  It’s been a week and I’m missing you!  I cannot believe it’s only been five days that dear Heidi has been with us.  How can you be so in love with someone you’ve only known 5 days!  I know it’s futile to try to convey to you how utterly captivated I am by my daughter.  I just sound like another gushing mom. But really, this little wee fairy of ours has stolen our hearts…even though she pooped on me three times today! 🙂

Speaking of, I had to post just an overview of the last five days.  No spiritual significance here, it just seems that after giving birth I have this strange desire to tell everyone about it.  And, life with a newborn, recovering from childbirth, a sick toddler, a busy pastor husband, and a house that’s for sale, there’s never a dull moment! 

First, labor.  Oh my goodness.  Every rule of how it’s supposed to be went out the window. Dutch’s labor was early, super fast, and super easy.  I still looked good afterwards!  And everyone and their mother (including my midwife) that this one would be even earlier, faster, and easier.  Sweet!  I was all set for her to arrive at least a week early and be quick and easy.  So, the night before my due date, I had contractions, painful but irregular, all night. By early Sunday morning they were 5 min. apart and consistent. Sweet! They say 2nd moms should go the hospital when they are 5 min. apart.  We get Dutch up and discover he’s come down with a horrible cold.  Are you kidding me? Not today.  Ok, that’s ok.  We call and tell my parents to stay posted, and wait.  And then…the contractions stop.  Stop.  What?!  Then all day Sunday they are off and on, 20 min apart, 30 min apart, 10 min apart.  No rhyme or reason. I go for two long walks (4.5 miles!), waddling my miserable self along the sidewalk, stopping to try to breathe through the contractions, probably looking like a crazy woman.  We wait.  And wait.  We eat an entire large pepperoni pizza and let Dutch watch Cars all day long.  And wait. 

Slowly they get stronger. By 9:30 that night they are way stronger than before, and regular, 5 min. apart. But who knows.  at 10:30 we call my parents and ask them to come.  By 11pm they are insanely strong and 2 minutes apart, excruciating.  They were ten times worse than any contractions I ever had with Dutch, and way closer, lasting a minute each and coming every 2 minutes. By the time my parents get there I am in a zone and can’t even think, trying to breathe through these.  I’m thinking, “Yes! This is going to be FAST! These are insane contractions!”  We get to the hospital, they check me.  1 cm.  ONE STINKING CENTIMETER!! You are kidding me? I was 1 cm. at my last doctor’s appointment! NO progress?  None?!  They say to walk around for an hour and they’ll check me again.  Walk??  Walk??  I try to stumble through the hospital halls, a few steps then moaning and breathing through these crazy things. After an hour, which felt like an eternity, they come back at 1am and check me.  By then I have chills and am shaky–I’ve got to be in transition by now!  Nightmare of all nightmares, she checks me…I’m STILL at 1 cm. NO PROGRESS whatsoever. Are you kidding me?  “I’m so sorry honey but you have to go back home.”  Ok, I respond, no big thing. They give me a small dose of morphine to help me relax and try to slow the contractions a bit so I can at least catch my breath in between.  Then I change back into my clothes, delirious, and stumble back outside to our car.  As soon as I sit down I begin bawling.  “I’m gonna die.  I can’t do this for 10 hours.”  I can laugh about it now.  I was just crying Jesus help me Jesus help me all the way home. 

Once home the morphine helps take the edge off and helps me relax enough so the contractions space to 5 min. apart.  So for three hours at least I can rest a little in between and text message a dear friend who stayed up that night praying for me.  By 5am the morphine is long gone and they are picking up speed and intensity again.  I figure what the heck they can send us home again but at least we have to get back to the hospital because they are worse than ever and I will get more morphine or strangle the nurses to death and get some myself.  We arrive at 5:30am, at 6am she comes to check me and says, “You’re staying!” and I thought she meant “You’re staying at 1cm” and I just about pass out…then she continues, “You’re staying, you’re 5 cm, do you want an epidural?”  And I begin weeping and crying out loud, “Thank you Jesus! Thank you Jesus! Thank you Jesus!” She seriously must have thought I was a religious nut. ALl I could do was cry and tell Jesus how much I loved Him. (I’m laughing right now remembering).  At 7am I got an epidural and at 8am I started pushing–so that part went fast.  But little Miss Heidi still didn’t want to come! With Dutch it was like 3 hard pushes, 9 minutes, and he jumped out.  No such deal with this girl. ALmost 1.5 HOURS of intense pushing, with the cord wrapped around this little angel’s neck, and finally she was born at 9:28am.  Broken blood vessels in my eye and the next day I felt like someone had taken me out back and beat me with baseball bat.  Goodness sakes.  Talk about not what I expected. Easier labor the 2nd time, eh?  🙂  Not me.  But oh so worth it! She came out beautiful, of course.  Our little wee fairy.

And speaking of our wee fairy, time to feed her.  More adventures to come… 🙂

A glimpse of our new daughter is over here.

Happy Valentine’s Day!  I have to admit, Jeff and I aren’t huge Valentine people.  We love eachother, of course, but I guess i”m just not into the red-heart-ballooon thing and the fact that good red roses cost $50/dozen.  But at our church a friend of mine, along with some other women, do a workshop each year on how to bless your husband for Valentine’s Day.  My friend’s mom was the one who started it, as she would do amazing and ridiculous things for her husband during the two weeks before Valentine’s Day.  FOr example, she would make huge posters saying, “Trish loves Mark!” and staple them to telephone poles along his route to work.  She’d send him packages at work, secretly drop off cookies for him and all his co-workers, or have random people like the UPS guy deliver love notes.  Basically, after probably close to 30 years of marriage she still found it hilarious to bombard him with reminders of her love…and perhaps have a little fun embarrassing him in front of his co-workers at the same time.

But the point of the workshop was all about finding ways to bless your husband.  Not just a cheesy card or a box of chocolates, and not just expecting your husband to do something for YOU, but choosing to take the first step and do something unexpectedly for him.  Something that’s tailor made for him.  I must say it was encouraging and challenging.

I wish I could say that I DID all of those things.  But, I confess, I really thought I’d be giving Jeff a daughter for Valentine’s Day and so we kind of just got wrapped up in prepping for the baby.  The day came, and…well, I gave him some Mike’s Hard Lime and a box of Cheese-its. (Hey, give me a break! Those ARE a treat for him.) 

But my husband spoke my language today.  Most everyone is familiar with the Five Love Language book. Well, I am an Acts of Service girl hands down.  Jeff knows the way to my heart is to save our money and spend a few hours scrubbing the floor instead.  Really though, what ministers to me more than anything is when Jeff is willing to lay aside his schedule, priorities, and needs to make my requests a priority.  So you want to know how he wooed me today?  Scrubbed the shower (the worst job!) top to bottom, swept and mopped all the floors, vacuumed the carpet, gave Dutch a bath, unloaded the dishwasher, cleaned out my car, and swept the garage.  Yeah! Happy Valentine’s to me!  I think I told him a dozen times today that this was the best Valentine’s Day ever. 

So thank you, Hon, for speaking my language today.  Thank you for blessing me with your time and your hard work.  Happy Valentine’s Day.

What strange emotions accompany the end of pregnancy!  It’s no secret I am sooo very anxious to have this baby and hold her in my arms.  And yes, I have been struggling with the waiting, thinking maybe-this-is-it, then no it’s not.  A rollercoaster.  But a friend who recently was nine days overdue before giving birth to her second child (and her first one was 2 weeks early!) has become such an example to me.  Another friend related that how she stayed sane was just by keeping the perspective that these were the last few days of cherishing the sweet relationship with the precious two children she already has (one is adopted).  She really did maintain joy through the long 9 days of being overdue.  So that’s what I’m doing, and in the midst of this, the emotions are going crazy!  My sweet boy, who I adore beyond words…how thankful I am for him, and how I never want to rush through these last few days of Dutch-and-Mommy time. 

What I love about you, Dutch:

1. How everything is over-the-top exciting, how you exclaim “Whoa!” over even the smallest things–making life truly a grand adventure.  No detail is too mundane to celebrate.

2. That you love love love to read.  And how intensely you listen to the stories, chiming in excitedly over the details you know, pointing out the things you can pronounce, interjecting excited noises all throughout, even though we’ve read the same book a hundred times.

3.  How you look at me and smile everytime you hear a siren outside because you know I’ll get excited with you.

4. The smell of your breath.  Last night holding you at the concert, I couldn’t get close enough to your mouth, holding your cheek against mine, inhaling your sweet breath, hoping I’d never forget. Never forget.

5. Your amazing cowlick you get from your daddy.

6. How you love to sleep under your bed.  Hilarious.

7. How you so patiently go to church events, day after day, with us, spending hours in the nursery at times.  What a stellar PK you are. 🙂

8. How proud I am that I get to be the one you call Mama.

9. How you can play all by yourself at the park, loading and dumping your dump truck full of barkdust, for hours on end, with freezing hands and bright red nose.

10. Watching you play the drums.  You’re a little percussionist at heart!

11. Your favorite words and phrases:  Papa Cruck, Dada-go-work-church, chitch (fish) Marlin (from Nemo), Chuna (which means tuna AND cheese at different times), go-go (yogurt), Nana, Dumpa-Dan (Dump truck Dan from his favorite book).  And your new word for Heidi:  “hah, hah, hah”.

12. How you bow your head and pray, then sneak bites of food. 🙂

—

Time to go wake you up from your nap. No doubt you’ll be found underneath your bed.  I love you son.  For however long we have, just you and I, you’re my little hero.  Let’s play…

“Expecting.”  That’s what they call a woman who’s pregnant–she’s expecting. It is a very appropriate term, as I am now just a few days from my due date and really really thought Heidi would have arrived by now.  Nothing profound here, just thoughts on waiting.  You’d think I wouldn’t get my hopes up, after all my lecturing and preaching on Expectation vs. Expectancy, right? YOu’d think I had this stuff down.  No, I still get my hopes up, get my heart set on things, and get disappointed.  I had contractions all day yesterday and thought for sure Heidi would arrive last night. Plus, my parents had Dutch for a slumber party, Jeff finished his last homestretch church meeting, and I thought for sure she’d make her grand arrival last night.  This morning, I woke up, and as I came to and realized that nothing had gone as planned, the irrational thoughts swept over me and I lay in bed and cried…and cried and cried and cried.  Mix hormones with fatigue with feeling like this baby is going to fall out, with the mixed emotions of celebrating a new life and yet grieving the loss of this special season where life is largely Dutch-and-Mommy.  My sweet little boy…still sweet, but about to be shaken indeed. All that tossed together erupted in a morning of tears.

But after my dear sweet husband not only put up with my crabby snapping at him, but also loved, blessed, and ministered to me, I quit sulking and got on with my day.  And later this afternoon, after the life-changing perspective that only Pizza Schmizza can bring (!), I dug into God’s Word.  Right now in the OT I’m reading Numbers (I got really behind in my Bible reading so yesterday I had to read from Exodus 26 to Numbers 13…do you have any idea how agonizing that is? To read the entire book of Leviticus in one sitting?  That is a LOT of discharge and uncleanliness.  Yeah, brutal.)  Anyway, today I read Numbers and it recounts the children of Israel’s journey in the wilderness. They followed the Lord, who would manifest His presence by a cloud which rested on the tabernacle of meeting.  When the cloud moved forward, they would pack up camp and move forward.  When it stayed, they stayed.  No warning, just watching.  Chapter 9:22-23 reads, “Whether the cloud stayed over the tabernacle for two days or a month or a year, the Israelites would remain in camp and not set out; but when it lifted, they would set out. At the LORD’s command they encamped, and at the LORD’s command they set out. They obeyed the LORD’s order, in accordance with his command through Moses.”  Did you catch that?  Two days, or a month, or a year.  Yikes!  Expecting a child is really only over a span of 1-2 weeks.  But this span could range from 2 days to a year! 

So often I’ve lamented that I can’t really settle and nest because we have no idea how long we’ll be living here, as we’re in the process of trying to sell our homes and living in a home that’s for sale.  I don’t want to decorate the kids’ rooms as we won’t be here long.  Yada yada yada.  How my heart longs to settle!  But instead, we wait.  We watch and wait because we have no idea how long we’ll be here.  And the same with Heidi.  Should I buy fresh milk and fruit and lettuce? Or should I wait?  I know, these are seriously ridiculously trivial questions, but I still have them.  Should Jeff plan to teach the Jr. High students on Sunday or not?  A state of waiting.

But I cannot imagine living in that state as the children of Israel did. But they did, and they learned the art of attentively and patiently waiting on God.  It had to be hard, never knowing how long you’d be in one spot.  And yet this utter depedence that they had must have pleased the Father, and must have worked in them that character that otherwise would never have been developed. 

So my waiting is very trivial. How cool is God’s Word, that in the middle of my pregnancy/hormone issues, I can read the ancient book of Numbers and find such wonderful comfort from the Scriptures, written centuries ago.  Truth never changes. God never changes.  And, He’s worth waiting on.  And Heidi’s worth waiting for.  🙂

It’s amazing that I can listen to the same sermon two days in a row (Saturday night service and Sunday morning service) and be totally  ministered to in separate ways, like it was a brand new sermon (and Joel does preach differently on the two days, that’s for sure).  Yesterday I wrote about setting our minds on things above, and verse 3 of Colossians 3 tells us why:  For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.”  This reality, that we are a new creation should never cease to blow our minds or change the way we live. ANd yet, as Joel sadly pointed out, innumerable surveys and studies conclude that for the most part Christians and non-Christians behave in the same way. They listen to the same music, watch the same movies, spend the money the same way, get divorced just as often, have the same conflicts…etc.  How sad is that?  How sad that for a majority of those who call themselves believers, Christ is just an escape route from hell.  That is a tragic abuse of God’s grace. 

This message, from Colossians 3:1-11 was basically, “You’re a Christian. Act like it.”  The reality is that we are new, that we are no longer slaves to sin but are now slaves to righteousness.  We are slaves to right living, which means if we submit to the power of God in our lives, we no longer have to submit to the evil desires that well up within us, because that is no longer who we are.  What if, after I went through the ceremony of marrying Jeff, said my vows, put on the ring, cut the cake, etc.  What if after we honeymooned for two weeks in Kauai, then we got home and I said, “Ok bye, I’m going back to live with my parents.  Call me sometime, ok?”  That would be ridiculous.  I’m not longer single.  I’m no longer Kari Zyp.  I am Kari Patterson, wife of Jeff.  I have a new identity which means I get to enjoy the freedoms, privileges and responsibilities which come with that. 

Because of this, God calls us to take sin seriously.  Dabbling in sin is not only grievous to God and detrimental to our attempts at growing in righteousness, it is living contrary to our nature.  It is acting in a way that is not who we are.  What did Jesus say about sin?  “If your right eye causes you to sin, gouge it out…” and no just gouge it out, I love how Joel pointed out, “Gouge it out, and throw it away!”  As if gouging one’s eye out wasn’t enough.  “And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off,” and then, in case that doesn’t stop it, “cut it off and throw it away.”  Joel said, “I’m surprised Jesus doesn’t say, ‘throw it away, beat it with a stick, douse it with gasoline and light it on fire.”  Jesus was talking seriously about sin.  The point?  No measure is too great.  No measure we take to keep ourselves from sinning is too great. 

And no sin is too small to confess.  I want to be the person that keeps a short account with God. I want to confess any little impure motive, critical thought, thoughtless word.  Just yesterday I made a joke about something with some people, and afterwards realized it was thoughtless. Even though it seemed ridiculous to go back to that person and confess my thoughtlessness, I did it.  Maybe it was unncessary, but you know what? I’d rather err on the side of honesty, confession, humility. I’d rather keep a short account with God because that is how we stay current with Him.  That is how we keep our hearts tender toward Him. That is how we keep ourselves from being deceived by sin’s warping effect. 

So tonight I’m thanking God that I’m a new creation. That the old things are gone, that all things have been made new. I’m thankful that I’m no longer a slave to sin, but am now a slave of of righteousness. 

And…on the topic of new life, I’m hoping and praying a new little life will arrive soon. Because I’m really tired of being pregnant (!) and I’m ready to hold my daughter, in my arms at last.

This will be short–I think that as Heidi’s arrival comes closer my brain continues to incrementally shut down.  At 39 weeks, It is hardly functioning now.  BUT, the house is clean, the taxes are done, and her newborn clothes are folded in the drawers!  Yes, nothing like delivering a child to ground us to the nitty gritty details of life.  I wish I could say I’ve done some in-dept Bible studies brimming with spiritual wisdom, but mostly I’ve just focused on taking a walk every day, giving Dutch special attention, and making sure the house is ready to show just in case I’m in the hospital the next time it does!  Earthly things…but necessary, I guess.

But tonight’s message, from Colossians 3:1-11 was perfect for my heart.  Today began in the most amazing manner, with the most encouraging, edifying, affirming, wonderful baby shower with my church sisters.  I left soaring.  Then our day got tossed around a bit by unexpected things, which kept Dutch from his nap and threw me for a loop, and then a little bit of discouraging news on our own trying-to-sell-houses front, and quite frankly I just felt like all the encouraging air that’d been pumped into my heart was pricked with the discouragment pin and seeped out as quickly as it came. 

(I have no idea why but I cannot make the rest of the post “un-italicize”…and I’m too tired to go ask Jeff.  Just pretend like it’s REALLY emphasized and go with it.  You can’t expect perfection when I’m this pregnant, right?)

It seems God has me on this theme … weakness.  First, the idea of working on our left–identifying our weakest areas rather than ignoring them enables us to grow and become more of a threat to the enemy.  This one seems fairly obvious, and it makes sense to me.  Work on weaknesses so that you can be stronger. Yes. I get that.

But what God’s been ministering to my heart since that last post has me surprised, yet it makes perfect sense.  My beloved husband, who is a walking library, suggested a book on leadership that has greatly impacted him.  It’s called Leading with a Limp, by Dan B. Allender, Ph.D.   I was instantly intriqued. 

The premise of the book is that most leadership books and strategies teach you to take advantage of your strengths and leverage power and minimize or diminish areas of weakness.  Instead, Allender maintains that the key to being greatly used  to glorify God is in taking full advantage of your flaws. Embracing weaknesses, authentically limping, refusing to protect one’s image makes a leader able to be used by God for great things, because self is no longer part of the equation. 

This struck me as an “aha!” moment, because it’s exactly what I see God showing me in my life.  Last semester, at the conclusion of the semester, we shared in our internship group what one verse characterized what GOd did in us that semester.  I shared 2 Corinthians 12:9, where Paul pleads with the Lord to remove a thron in his flesh, something that was apparently harassing him and making him desperate. The Lord replied, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”  Therefore Paul says, “I will therefore boast all the most gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.  For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses…for when I am weak, then I am strong.”  That’s exactly how I felt last semester–stretched to the limit. 

Perhaps it is also no secret that at this particular moment in time I feel the weakest I’ve ever felt.  All week all I could think was, “Why on earth did I agree to teach the high schoolers, AND teach a class at Multnomah, a week and a half before I”m due with my 2nd baby, while Jeff has church commitments almost every night this week, my son has a cold, I’m not sleeping, I feel like this baby is going to fall out at any moment, we’re scrambling to get our out-of-town house fixed up to sell as our tenants just moved out on Friday.  I am at the breaking point, Jesus!  How can I stand up in front of these seminary women and expect to teach them anything. I’ll probably burst into tears!  I’m certainly not at my best…” 

So today, I knew Superbowl Sunday was probably my best bet at having time to study and prepare, as we planned to spend the day at my parents house (read: Dutch would be occupied).  But one tiny little thing pushed me over the edge, and I found myself, this afternoon, in tears instead of studying.  I can’t prepare to teach when I’m feeling this weak, I thought.  And so I did the only thing I knew to do, I went for a walk with God, and poured out my heart to Him, waddling my way up and down the driveway. 

And as cheesy as it sounds–God showed me my waddle is my limp.  The fact that I’m almost 9 months pregnant and emotional and stretched to the limit is the power of God manifest in my life.  And I believe, by faith, that somehow in the midst of my weakness, GOd will be glorified in that classroom as I teach, and in my life.  The fact that I don’t have it all together right now means God’s beauty and glory can shine through this broken vessel.  At least that’s what I’m believing, by faith.  And if Paul knows what he’s talking about (and I think he does), then it’s true.  When I’m weak, then I’m strong.  So perhaps right now, feeling like I’m fraying at the edges, perhaps I am at my best.  God is at His best in me.  Perhaps that’s what He wants these seminary women to know.  Perhaps God really means what He says in His Word, that His strength is made perfect in weakness. Perhaps we should not only identify our weaknesses, but boast in them, embrace them, go with them.  Perhaps the Church would discover a power in reaching a lost world that could never exist otherwise.  Perhaps the secret is weakness. 

I’m only scratching the surface, but I’m beginning to think that waddling my way through the next week or two, feeling on the verge of tears at all times, is ok.  I pray that God will glorify Himself through my weakness, however that might look.