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Celebrating Freedom. (47)

It’s the Fourth of July and fireworks have been going off outside for the better part of two hours now. I love fireworks, and I also always think about how many veterans might be struggling tonight after serving and fighting for the freedom the rest of us are celebrating. It’s a strange and hard thing, the way freedom here cost so much at its inception and how it continues to cost more and more today.

I love seeing everyone’s patriotism on a day like today–so much red, white and blue in pictures everywhere, picnics and parties with family and friends and every possible and celebratory dessert creation you can imagine. The way we honor this holiday as a nation feels fully American and really wholesome, which is probably my favorite part about it. Somehow we do feel a bit more united on the 4th, whether or not the headlines tell a different story tomorrow or the next day or the next.

We’ve all be through such a tumultuous year and a half, and from so many different angles. Political unrest, politics in general, pandemic fears and realities, isolation, trauma for reasons not even related to a global pandemic but rather on top of it, relational challenges, racial tensions, job insecurities, remote learning and working and all the things, major needs for adaptation, completely new territory on a global scale…all of this taking its emotional, mental, physical, spiritual toll on every one of us, no matter how uniquely. To celebrate Independence Day today looks so much like it did before last year’s more subdued, more isolated version, but it feels different to me. It feels weightier. The price tag on freedom has changed, and so have we.

I don’t really want to get super philosophical here or anything wild at 11pm on a holiday, but I do just feel like sharing that this year’s 4th stirs up new things in me. I am amazed at how normal things feel (dare I say, are?) and yet how much I want to acknowledge the treacherous path we’ve all been on to get here. I think a lot of our freedoms were challenged this past year+, and I still think they’re being challenged today. My personal quest for understanding and truth have ebbed and flowed in the midst of it all–sometimes my personality has driven me to pursue information to a fault, and more often than not (and especially as time has gone on), I’ve needed to hang my hat on what my belief in Christ leads me to recognize as Truth alone. I’ve needed to block out the droning on of information and noise from every side, instead pressing in to the ONE place I can really count on to be life-giving and hopeful and truly freeing.

Freedom looks different to me this holiday because I think we’re all a little more seasoned; perhaps a little more skeptical or frustrated or curious about what’s true and what’s been true and whatever comes next. I’m still so grateful to live where we live and to belong to a nation that has pursued freedom creatively and innovatively for as long as it’s been a nation. And like many (or most?), I’m still grappling with the cost of freedom and wondering about the future of freedom, which seems to change more readily these days than any of us might like to admit. It’s good to be here, planted and hopeful for the future, and it’s also good to come to the end of this celebratory day acknowledging where our true freedom originates. I can picnic, set off fireworks and dress in red, white and blue to authentically represent my patriotism, and at the same time, I’m leaning hard on God for His guidance for the future of our nation and His protections over the freedoms we’ve come to know and enjoy simply by living here.

Here’s to true freedom–the kind that can never be take away, and to our day to day freedoms that have been hard fought and hard earned. May we never take them for granted!

MM

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This Day in Ten(ish) Sentences. (48)

  1. The boys get to sleep in their new room for the first time tonight–exciting for all!
  2. Our household has more books that we know what to do with, which is a great gift and also a little bit of a conundrum. Between us we have so many mixed interests and age groups and favorites.
  3. Weekly trips to drop off book and toy donations are a staple these days.
  4. The kids make excellent helpers and runners when they’re motivated by their own progress–beautiful!
  5. This week the plants outside need soooo much water.
  6. We all went out for Mexican food tonight for dinner and the baby has a lot to say about it.
  7. Divide and conquer trips to Meijer and Menards make for interesting after-dinner events.
  8. Thirty three weeks along, contractions spice up moments throughout the day, every day.
  9. Today would have been Gramma’s 91st birthday and I never stop thinking about her. I miss her always, but especially on days like today.
  10. Fireworks are getting set up around the lake…Happy (almost) 4th, everyone!

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Condensed Nesting. (49)

A few weeks ago, someone asked me if we were going to have a doula for this upcoming birth. As a doula myself, that surely seems like a natural conclusion to draw. We’ve had a doula twice, and the third time were planning to have a doula until circumstances shifted six weeks or so before baby was due. At that time, we were most comfortable with our doula from our previous births, and since it was relatively close to my due date, we opted not to try to replace her with someone less familiar. We certainly missed having her, but as it was our third labor and delivery, we didn’t feel the need to rush into something different. This time though, I’ve had plenty of opportunity to consider and interview other possible doulas but it never really crossed my mind. I’m sure there are a few factors playing into this, not the least of which are the hospital restrictions that have been in place over the past year plus, and my being unsure whether an extra support person would be allowed in the room. That said, I think the real reason I didn’t consider a doula all this time is because I hadn’t let my heart go that far down the road. I wanted to, sure, but everything felt so tenuous for so long…it must have been subconscious self preservation not to let my mind commit to the day we’ll welcome this baby here.

Now we’re seven weeks away from my due date, and while I still have to talk myself away from challenging thoughts and hanging my hat on, “Nothing is guaranteed,” I also recognize that it’s important to prepare for this little one to arrive. It’s even more important that I lean into that truth–this little baby is going to arrive. With that in mind, I’m suddenly in go mode even more than I’ve felt before. I want things in their place now…not later. I want to know that there’s a cozy spot for the baby to sleep, clean baby clothes in drawers, maybe some sweet and intentional art hanging on the nursery walls. We had the “nursery” painted months ago, but our boys are still sharing that same room at the moment. It’s a small detail, but it might be easier to set up a crib in there if they were in their new room instead.

I’m trying to stay lighthearted about all of this, but there’s so much to it and I know I’m also processing a lot. I have a vision for the baby’s room, but not all of the elements to make that vision a reality just yet. I feel like I’m suddenly rushing around for things I probably could have sorted out sooner had I not been quite as stifled in my belief that this was all really happening. God has had my heart, mind, body and spirit on a journey of learning to trust and surrender over and over. I’m so grateful, and I’m also still growing.

In a way, this process and the timing of it is pretty wonderful. Getting things ready for baby to arrive is a helpful and soothing way for me to prepare and tangibly feel the excitement of it all. Creating a space that will be intentional and calm and lovely, well…that’s my ambition, and hopefully, what we end up with when all is said and done, too.

I know that we could welcome baby tomorrow, and that he or she would be just fine without the crib up or a designated room to call their own. But creating the baby’s space has historically been a healthy, creative, intentional process for me, and this time it feels no different. Time will tell if I can have certain “staple” items checked off of the list in the weeks we have left, but I’m certainly going to try. Creating a place for our honeybee is an honor, and it will be far more so when we can use the space for its purposes and discover more of who this little one is going to be.

I can’t wait, but I can. It’s a good feeling, to be right here in the midst of both being true.

MM

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Livin’ on a Prayer. (50)

If I haven’t titled post #50 in a 100 day countdown, “Livin’ on a Prayer” before now, I’m really not sure why. That seems like low hanging fruit, right? It’s so accurate for where things are right now on multiple levels. I don’t know for fact that I’m halfway through the last 100 days to baby, but if I were a betting pregnant woman…

I decided this week that I’m reclaiming summer after a slow start out the gate for our crew. Today is July 1st (would be my grandparents 71st anniversary, today, FWIW), and the start of July plus 50 or so days to baby feels like the right time to be celebratory and intentional and to put a stake in the ground. Summer, commence! I want to do all of the summertime things we can possibly enjoy without driving ourselves to the brink of exhaustion or turning it into a to-do list instead of a fun pursuit.

This morning, we got up and took ourselves to the beach about a half hour away. I knew a rocky beach would add extra entertainment vs. the sandy beaches we usually frequent, and my instinct proved profitable. Between the gazillion rocks to stack, carry, build with, move, and collect, the awesome tide pools left by days of rain and water filling in from the lake, and the family of similarly-aged kiddos who built dams and channel systems with our crew, we had a solid two hours of whine-free playtime in my happiest place. It was windy, but the sun was shining and the sky was blue, I managed to read a few chapters of a fiction book due back soon to the library, and it FELT LIKE SUMMER, Amen! We all needed it. We’ll need more of it. And we’re going after it. 50 days or so to live life to the full with our three while this baby swims around tucked inside…it’ll be balm to all of our souls if we can sprinkle these kinds of memories throughout the next number of weeks. You can bet we’ll try!

If I didn’t feel so compelled to make it count, I know we could spend the entire summer this way: sleep-in mornings for the kids, stacks of books piling up in the living room–blankets and pillows and cozy straight on through lunchtime, and me wandering around the house trying to make progress on a million little things I could just go crazy over until it’s too late to tackle any of them any more. The sun would shine and the days would be the temperature we all dream about the whole rest of the year, and we’d miss it all as it went by outside the front door. I’m all about some cozy, sleep-in mornings in summertime, but the reward is pretty great for pursuing the mini-adventure, too. This week, I’m so grateful for three days so far of getting up and out and onto something a bit distanced from home. We’ve all benefitted from the change of scenery and the re-discovery that there’s a world out there waiting for us to soak it in. And while I’m experiencing some kind of second wind wave of energy this pregnancy that I didn’t really expect would come, you can bet I want to capitalize on the gift that it is to be out living life with our kiddos. Grace, really. It’s all grace. And I’m beyond thankful for it and feeling healthier because of it.

Here’s to “half way there” and all of the prayers it takes to keep moving forward. The joy of the Lord really is our strength!

MM

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Invitation. (53)

It’s rare that I’d end up outside with just one kiddo, but yesterday afternoon our eldest and I were out by the lake, just the two of us, when he asked me if I wanted to take the kayaks out together. I hesitated at first, thinking about the logistics of my very pregnant self on a kayak, but a little voice in the back of my head whispered, “Go.” I’m so glad it did.

Out in the middle of the lake with our boy, those twenty minutes or so were some of the best of the day. The sun had come out after another bit of rain and the breeze was perfect, but of course the weather wasn’t the highlight. Paddling and joking with H out on the water was unexpected and beautiful. If I’d let the details get in the way of getting out on that little boat, I would have missed it. We laughed together over my belly, talked about how it was baby’s first kayak ride and noticed the colors on the water as the sun glistened down. I hope I never forget it.

I know there will be days coming up when individual time with each of our kids will be even more limited for a while. Certainly, in this season of pregnancy, our family is feeling the changes to our daily norms already. My lap isn’t readily available, my energy changes day to day. I’ve asked more from our children in the past few months than maybe ever before and they are truly rising to the occasion with grace. While I know they all already deeply love their baby brother or sister, I can’t wait to give them the joy of this baby here in our home and lives.

Tonight we took family photos out at the beach as a storm rolled in from the south. It was a night I don’t think any of us will forget too quickly. After running to the car to get out of the downpour, we waited it out until the sky cleared completely over the water. Then we all wandered the almost empty beach together, the kids running and exploring, and J and I remembering summers past when we wandered the same stretch of beach with one, then two kiddos and my belly just as full each time as it was tonight. Invitation. Invitation to remember, to savor, to enter in. Invitation to play in the rain. Invitation to say yes to what’s right in front of me. I’m beyond grateful for all of it, and I pray for continued opportunities to hear the voice in my head that says, “Go”–not only in this chapter, but for all of the times God has something for me that He’d hate for me to miss.

MM