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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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Growth Days. (51)

There are days when I feel I’ve grown more than others, and today was one of those days. I don’t mean that my belly feels bigger, but that a number of things happened today from a spiritual/mental/emotional standpoint that feel like good strides. I always love this, and I try to fully embrace it, because it’s not an every day thing and not something I want to miss noticing. It’s more an acknowledgement of my gratitude for it that I want to articulate…I just feel better when I’m making progress on the things that matter, and I recognize that this isn’t of my own doing, but rather something that requires my participation. We have to be willing to accept it in order to grow in certain areas, right?

When I think about my garden plot in life, I want to till rich soil that’s good for planting. I want to clear out weeds and be a hospitable environment for seeds to take root. I want to retain moisture and be open to sunshine and to cultivate progress that bears fruit. We know that this is daily work, and sometimes I get out to tend the garden more responsibly, while other days I might ignore it or simply not find time to address it in the midst of life’s details. That said, I never want to abandon the work that’s already done. Nurturing what’s growing really matters to me–in every area of life.

Today, I had an hour to spend with someone in self-reflection. It was cathartic and clarifying and helpful. Later, I sat with another friend just sharing about life and catching up on things, which is always good for reviewing what’s happening around me (and how I’m feeling about it). I had a good bit of time in the car and plugged into a podcast that built on things I’d shared with others earlier in the day. This felt awfully intentional and timely on God’s part, and it was also kind. I needed some clarity on a few things, and the events of the day allowed room for processing and leaning into where He has me right now. It was the encouraging space I needed after a day of soul searching and getting really real with myself about some feelings yesterday. I feel like it all just piggy backs in a way that helps me to see God’s hand in growing and stretching me right now. I am so grateful for that grace. He doesn’t have to show me, but in answered prayers, He demonstrates His attention to detail and also His knowing how much those details matter to me.

I don’t know what the day holds tomorrow. It doesn’t necessarily matter. I’d love for it to be a great and encouraging day, and I’d love the chance to keep building on what God did in my heart today. I know I’m not promised that. But I’m hopeful that this self-reflecting can keep coming. In a space when I feel so attuned to the world around me, I want to be soaking up all of the helpful parts and using them to be the fullest and most authentic version of myself that I can. I need God’s help with that, and He has already given the go-ahead on pursuing it, so I’m feeling ready to dig in.

Tomorrow is the halfway point through this exercise of documenting the last 100-ish days of baby’s journey here. I can hardly believe it, and you’d better believe I want to savor these and the remainder for all they’re worth. There’s too much good in the process to fall asleep on it in this season. Would you please continue to pray that I remain open and available to all God wants to do through this growing phase? And that He would continue to cover and keep this baby safe and well, and mama alongside? In the pursuit of what is good, and in the celebration of life, I know the the enemy wouldn’t have things this way. The Lord of Heaven’s Armies is needed and invited here, so that God has room to do all that He’ll do.

Humbled and grateful, daily.

MM

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It’s Not Easy Being Green. (54)

After an incredibly dry spring and what seemed like forever without any significant rain, our area has had days of storms and downpours this past week. I’d read that a very dry summer was predicted, but I didn’t imagine it shaping up to be so much that way until the hotter months…July and August, mostly. Instead, keeping plants alive was proving to be difficult, especially as we started up our garden around Memorial Day. Three of us routinely took turns watering the plants several times a day, our sprinklers were on like clockwork and it still felt like there might be no hope of things greening up (or staying viable) as we headed closer to mid-summer. Now we’re still not quite there, and everything has had as much water as anyone could ask for and then some. Our plants are all as healthy as can be and the grass looks happy. I know that the amount of rain we’ve gotten hasn’t been good for everyone everywhere, but it’s just amazing to me how much can change in a few days time.

Do you ever feel so incredibly parched, aching for refreshment and in need of life-giving sustenance? I think we all have moments or seasons where we’re like the grass and flowers, wilting and weathered under the baking sun day after day, begging for rain. And I know it doesn’t always come. It’s not every time that what we need or ask for is granted to us. But when it does come, it’s more than manna to our dried out, weary selves–it’s like milk and honey, above and beyond the basics we need, offering blessing and a sense of hope for what’s next.

As the rain poured down day after day this past week, it felt like promise springing up for the parched areas of life in this segment of time. Every time I looked out to see rain starting again as a sprinkle over the lake, mounting into a shower or storm or downpour, I couldn’t help but think it was like God saying, “I see you. I see you again. I’m always on time, never late. I haven’t forgotten. This all matters to me, too.”

In the rainy mornings, the birds outside our window sounded so cheerful, grateful. It was like the whole earth around us was celebrating a feast. Even this morning, when the last of the major forecasted storms had all passed, I spotted the tiniest bird drinking droplets of water from the underside of our deck railing…sustenance for the littlest or least of these. When we’re reminded in Scripture that the birds and the flowers are fed and clothed and cared for, it’s true. And then, how much more must our Creator care for us? Infinitely more than we could ever understand.

We worry after so many things in this life. The details feel significant, the circumstances sometimes insurmountable. But then there is always hope in what is yet to come…the thing we cannot yet see. A week ago our yard was browning up in spite of all of our efforts to keep things watered. The sun had just been shining for so many consecutive days and our plants couldn’t withstand more of the dry heat. But now? Everything looks so lush and full and alive. Thriving wasn’t far behind the need, even though we couldn’t perceive it beforehand. This metaphor for living a life of trust is striking to me this week as I press into God’s sovereignty and lean nearer to Him daily, doing my best to rely on His life and Word as my sources of health and strength.

It’s not easy being green on our own, is it? We weren’t created to live without help, without community, without God’s intervention, without prayer, without sustenance. We need both sun and rain to keep going–to keep growing well where we are. We need heat and cool, we need truth and hope, we need trust and reliance. And we often need patience, sometimes up to what feels like the last possible moment, to receive whatever God has for us out of His abundance. I’m so thankful for tangible illustrations these days to be reminded of what’s true and where to hang my hat. As I feel so sensitive (in heart, mind, body and spirit) to all that’s happening around me right now, God is so good to meet my sensitivities with His narrative. It feels like inches of rain, generously poured out in the right moments, on land just waiting to spring forth with hope and life.

MM

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Ebb and Flow. (55)

This chapter is like waves–moods and feelings, energy and exhaustion all coming and going like a tide washing over whole days and receding on others. One moment, I’m extremely motivated and ready to take on the world and every task, and the next, I’m back on the couch trying to temper down the emotions of the day or the physical sensations of pressure or pain. It’s a roller coaster I don’t mind to be on, but also unpredictable.

Today I woke up after a stretch of seven hours of sleep. These days, that’s a really good, lengthy amount of time for me to be horizontal. I’ve noticed my sleep patterns changing, the early mornings growing earlier and more restless and the nights shorter, no matter when I go to bed. Even after five or six hours of rest, I find I’ll surprise myself by being strangely awake and ready to take on the day. Some days I can coast on that until evening, and other days, I’m ready to crash by lunchtime. I can be so ready to get things done, with a list of projects as long as my arm on my mind. Then I start in on one task and my energy fizzles out long before I’m ready to be done with the effort–just a confusing mix of my head and body not really being in sync with each other, no matter how I will them to be.

There’s a lot of grace for a pregnant mama in her third trimester, I know. But I don’t always have grace for myself, and my expectations are high. Once again I’m facing the message that I need more practice being still. Stillness remains a hard one for me and I wonder how long I’ll keep learning this lesson. To be wired a certain way and have your body working out of sync with that wiring is a tricky dynamic; for me, it’s a testing that adds to my weariness on the harder days.

I’m amazed at the ebb and flow of things right now…my physical capabilities, my emotional strength and resolve, my focus on what’s important and my fixation at times on things that will later be of no consequence at all. I think I’m feeling all of the feelings, and sometimes they come at once. To be happy and sad, joyful and resigned, hopeful and concerned, engaged and removed all in the same day some days, well…I guess I’ll just have to chalk that up to this process and aspects of it I certainly can’t control. I’m good with being here, just learning it in a way I’ve not experienced before. I wonder how I’ll feel on the other side of it all and what my reflection will be on this season when I’m much further down the road.

Tonight I feel the weight of the rhythms of this pregnancy, and not in a bad way, just in a way that makes me take notice. I want to remember that in the middle of this chapter, I was very much carried and not walking the path on my own. When I can’t make sense of it all (or of much), I take great comfort in knowing that it doesn’t all have to make sense to me. God is allowing things to be what they are or aren’t for reasons that will probably turn out to be beautifully stretching and growth-inducing. I’m all in for perseverance to produce character in my life in this process, so as I welcome it, I hope God will do with it all exactly as He sees best for me, for my family, and for this life growing inside of me.

For such a time as this,

MM

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11 p.m. (58)

Two of three children are still

wide awake,

a fourth making rounds inside

the roundness of my belly.

Tonight, a woman I do not know

remarked, “Your baby is going to be

huge.”

“This is my fourth. They’ve all been big,” I smiled.

As if my saying so would ease

her tension, not mine.

I did not go on to mention

the other three–

How, big or small, this baby

growing is a dream. How many

days and nights I’ve prayed,

“God, protect this life

you’re creating.” How, miracle of miracles,

the fullness of this belly

is hope in something

much bigger than my frame could contain.

MM