Our Third Son

One year ago today, we walked into an ultrasound room with hopeful hearts. We walked out of that very room heartbroken and confused. February 24, 2015 looks very different than February 24, 2014. I spent the better part of that day last year packing for a planned trip to Florida and processing next steps for our unexpected loss, all while weeping uncontrollably over the baby I would never meet.

It was a harder miscarriage than our first. Emotionally it registered about the same, but physically it took its toll on me and dragged on much longer than anyone ever expected. It made us wonder if we could endure another pregnancy, another rise and fall of dreams for a child. So we waited the months that were medically necessary because of the physical effect of the miscarriage and asked God to unite our hearts around the possibility of another baby--a baby we knew in our hearts we ached for.

And God heard our prayer.

We spent the better part of the first half of this pregnancy convinced we were having a girl. All the old wives tales about gender seemed to be leaning pink, so we were pretty sold on a name for the baby should we have a girl. But a boy? We were stumped. We had already used up two names on the sons we currently have, so thinking about another name proved difficult for us. So we didn't.

When the ultrasound technician informed us that our suspicions were false, we were floored. Daniel kept saying "wow" over and over again. We are delighted to add another boy to our brood, we just weren't expecting it this time around.

For weeks we talked about names, wrote down names, looked up names, and then talked about names some more. We could not come to a consensus. As we were driving to the airport for Christmas we settled in to listen to a seminar on parenting. The speaker read from Genesis 4 and when he got to verse 25, we stopped:

And Adam knew his wife again, and she bore a son and called his name Seth, for she said, “God has appointed for me another offspring instead of Abel, for Cain killed him.”

"What about Seth?" Daniel said.

We have always liked the name, we just forgot about it until that moment. Seth means "appointed one" and in particular to the story in Genesis, he is the God-appointed son in place of the one who was lost. So much of this pregnancy has linked us to the baby we lost. We heard Seth's heartbeat the day after our other baby was due. We found out we were pregnant the month we were due with the one we lost. In many ways, we feel like Seth is the joy that has come in the morning (Psalm 30:5). After we talked about this name, and the meaning behind it, we knew that the story of how he came to be would be perfectly woven into his very name, much like the names of his older brothers.

For his middle name we went off from our normal way of naming our kids. So far we have chosen family names for our children. Luke's name is Lucas Daniel (after Daniel). Zach's is Zachary Garrett (after my grandpa), but we could not find a family name that went with Seth! When I first became a Christian I was exposed to the writing of Elisabeth Elliot. Reading her gave me a context for a female Christian writer. Prior to my conversion, I wanted to be a writer. As a new believer, she opened up God's word to me, and gave me a female example to emulate. And he also happens to be due the month my first book releases! Jim Elliot's story influenced Daniel as a college student as well. So we felt it fitting to name him Seth Elliot, to honor the lives of two people who have impacted us greatly.

As I reflect on all God has taught me in the year since our second miscarriage, like our first, I am undone by his goodness once again. In the dark days that followed our loss it felt as if I would never see the sun in my circumstances again, let alone in my own soul. But God is faithful. He restores the years that the locusts of sin, suffering, and loss have eaten. He brings joy out of mourning. He causes the sun to rise in the dark corners of our hearts when his frowning providence seems to tell a different story.

In two and a half months we will meet this precious boy, Seth Elliot. We love him already.

Leaning on the Right Understanding

"Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths" --Proverbs 3:5-6

Many of us are familiar with this often quoted passage. When we don't know what to do, or when things get hard, we can run back to this verse for comfort. But what does it mean? It's easy to go straight to the promise of this verse--he will direct your paths--while missing the exhortation leading up to it.

It's easy, isn't it? Trusting in the Lord takes work. It takes faith. It takes denying our natural tendency towards self-sufficiency and pride. Sometimes our estimation of our circumstances is quite good. We look around at what's expected of us, or what is going on in our life, and we sense our own competency. We lean on our own understanding. But other times the outlook is bleak. We have no idea how we are going to make it through the day before us. We are weak. We are faithless. In fear, we lean on our own understanding.

Lately, I've found myself leaning on my own understanding in a variety of ways. When I have a burst of energy, or am able to knock things off my to-do list, my chest swells with pride over what I can accomplish. Facing writing deadlines and toddler conversations with relative ease, some days feel more accomplished than others. On the days I come out ahead, I feel pretty good. But I rarely look to the Lord. Instead of trusting in the Lord for help, strength, and wisdom, I've found rest in what I can accomplish (or at least what I think I can accomplish). Other days feel not so accomplished. I still have writing deadlines and toddler conversations, but they lack passion, joy, or hardly happen at all. I write no words and am short with my kids. Looking at my own understanding, I feel defeated and hopeless wondering how I will make it through the hours that seem to inch slowly by.

This verse speaks to both the competent and the feeble, the weak and the strong. God is no less God if we get our to-do list accomplished or barely get out of bed. He is no less the one who acts on our behalf in moments of greatness and great humbling. Any semblance of accomplishment is only an illusion of our own glory. It all is pointing to him, the author of our good and bad times. We simply need eyes to see it, acknowledge his hand in it, and seek him in the next moment.

I'll be the first to admit. It's easier for me to seek him when the walls are closing in around me. But it's harder to trust that he's working in the midst of the difficulty. It's harder to trust him on the front end of the good times, but easier to see his hand when all is well.

I want faith to do both, to trust him at all times and always lean on his interpretation of my circumstances, not my own.

I have no idea what tomorrow holds for me. But I do know that before my feet hit the floor in the morning I pray I have the humility and the faith to seek him first.

For the Ordinary Valentine's Day

Yesterday I asked Daniel if he was expecting us to get something for each other this Valentine's Day (a little late, I know). He said "no." 

"Good, me neither," I said.

It's not that I don't like Valentine's Day. It's actually quite the opposite. Both of us love holidays and celebrations, so we try to make something out of any occasion, even Valentine's Day. This year, real life has taken over and we are simply thankful to spend a quiet evening at home. 

This is our sixth Valentine's Day together. We've never gone out on Valentine's Day, but instead have continued a tradition of Daniel making dinner for us. Every year it becomes more of a treat for me that someone besides myself makes dinner. But this year there won't be any flowers, there are no cards, and their certainly aren't any presents. Three months from today our third son will, Lord willing, be born and we just replaced our heater. Real life has eclipsed candy, cards, and flowers. 

I used to not be okay with such ordinary efforts. In the days leading up to Valentine's Day, anniversaries, or my birthday, expectations were high and emotions were tense. Especially on Valentine's Day, I had a real time means of comparison in the form of Facebook and Twitter. With every poem written, bouquet displayed, and gift shared, envy and disappointment simmered inside me.

It's not that my husband isn't romantic or thoughtful. He's actually quite the opposite. But no husband or wife can live up to the perfection displayed on our computer (or phone) screens. And I felt the sting of not living up acutely. Sometimes I would forget about Valentine's Day and fail to write him a card, only to be met with a heartfelt letter from him over dinner that night. Sometimes he would rush to buy the ingredients for dinner and hurry through preparation because work doesn't stop for Valentine's Day.

The truth is we haven't had a "normal" Valentine's Day in a couple of years. Two years ago, the twins were in the NICU and we hurriedly ate a meal brought to us by a church member before heading to the hospital for our nightly visit with them. Last year, I was six weeks pregnant and could barely stomach food. This year, I'm pregnant again and we are smack in the middle of a busy work season for him. 

But this year, unlike previous years, I'm okay with the ordinariness of our celebration. For too long I have lived for the mountaintop experience in every facet of my life. My marriage is no different. I have expected the unattainable romance of my imagination, when what I really needed (and had all along) was the steadfastness of covenant keeping love. What I'm learning is that life is not made up of the grand moments we all expect as much as it is forged by the ordinary moments that comprise our days. Our marriage isn't headed down the tubes because we long for the quietness of the ordinary, it simply means we are growing more comfortable in the safety of this life God has called us to. 

It's easy to succumb to the pressure of the mountaintop experience. And I'll admit, there are some days that are such experiences. But they can't always be that way. Most of the time our days are fairly ordinary, but there is beauty in that. There is purpose in that.

I know that, for us, this is a season. So much of our disappointment over the ordinary is owing to the fact that we can't see our season for what it is--a season. There will come a day when we have more time for each other than we do now. There will come a day where we may have more money to buy things for each other than we do now. I imagine, from what I've heard from those older than me, that we will look back on these ordinary, routine days with sentimental joy knowing that it was in these moments that a family was made. 

For the first time in my life I can honestly say that I'm thankful for this ordinary Valentine's Day. And I wouldn't want to share our ordinary with any other. 

"The Company We Keep: In Search of Biblical Friendship": A Review

One of my overarching prayers for this year is that God would burn in me a desire (and the grace) to be a better friend. Like many, I love people and love having friends. But I have been convicted lately that if I want to have friends I need to be a friend. For the last two years I have used the excuse that life has been crazy trying to adjust to parenthood (and with twins, no less). However, I am not the first (nor last) woman to mother twins--so I can only use that excuse for so long. Of course, friendship looks much different for me now than it did when I was single and living with roommates. Friendships happened much more naturally back then. I lived with my closest friends. I ate meals with them, ran errands with them, and went to church with them. The depth of those relationships has carried them long after I moved away and got married.

Fast forward many years and I am in a different season of life. One that requires more intentionality and affords me less time. Sometimes I have to cancel a coffee date because I have a sick kid. A lot of my relationships happen within the context of my children, so Sunday morning fellowship, small group, and even play dates are a different animal now. 

All of these new revelations that I am coming to terms with are why I was excited to receive a copy of The Company We Keep: In Search of Biblical Friendship by Jonathan Holmes. Holmes, a pastor of counseling at Parkside Church in Cleveland, OH, has helpfully provided a biblical framework for friendship. This short book is an excellent read for anyone desiring to grow in their understanding of friendship, but also who desires to be a better friend. Here are a few takeaways:

Biblical friendship is designed to point you to Christ. I left this book asking the question of all my friendships: "How can I point this friend to Christ?" But it would even serve the reader to ask how the friendship as a whole points you to Christ. The ultimate goal of biblical friendship is to serve the common goal of mutual sanctification and lifting high the Savior you both love. What a helpful reminder!

Friendship, like everything else, is marred by the fall. We will never have perfect friendships in this life. We were created for relationships, as seen most evidently in the fact that we are created in God's image and he is in perfect fellowship with himself (Father, Son, and Holy Spirit). The fact that we crave companionship is a good desire. But because of sin, we selfishly pursue friendships. We are hurt by dear friends. We hurt the ones we love most. The answer is not to abandon biblical friendship, but to understand that it will never be perfect in this life. I needed this reminder. 

Friendship is more about us than about the other person, and most importantly it is about the perfect friend, our God. I found this quote particularly helpful: "I've come to learn that friendship flourishes best when we seek to be and embody the type of friend we see in God himself" (46). How often do I selfishly look at my friendships based on what they can offer me, but that is not the pattern we see from God. We offer nothing to him, yet he gives us everything. Our earthly friendships, like our other relationships, mirror the heavenly one set for for us in God.  

Understand your limitations. Holmes helpfully points out that we can't be all things to all people. True biblical friendship, he says, happens best with a small number of people. Even Jesus limited his inner circle to three. This is hard for an extrovert like me, but also a helpful reminder that I am human and have limitations. Identifying the friendships that God is already forging in my life and then purposefully working to grow them in a mutual love for Christ is a better model than trying to be BFF's with everyone.

As I finished this book I asked the Lord to make me the type of friend who not only is willing to do the hard work of fostering friendships that last, but also the type of friend who is humble enough to receive the honest correction and accountability that friendship affords. I don't like being confronted. I don't like correction. But I know it is necessary for growth in godliness. I want to be a friend who hears correction and receives it with humility. 

If you desire to grow in your friendships, or simply want to understand what God has to say about friendship, I highly recommend this book to you. As Holmes says in the book, we need community (particularly biblical friendship) in order to grow in godliness. We are not made for "substitute relationships", but for lasting relationships that point us to our Savior. May we all be such friends.