A Tale of Four Thanksgivings

That first Thanksgiving was hard, so hard that when I think about it I still feel the pain that flowed through my weary body. I remember how I felt that first Thanksgiving, achingly aware that my body was empty. Empty of a baby that I wanted so badly. Empty of the hope of a baby any time soon. I was surrounded by pregnancy in every sphere of my life, and I could barely choke out the words “I’m thankful” when we all shared our Thanksgiving joy around the dinner table. It felt like a lie. I didn’t know how to be thankful when living felt like death and tears came too easily for my comfort.

Little did I know it would take two more years before I would know the joy of pregnancy again.

I remember how I felt that second Thanksgiving. When treatment was inevitable and I had no assurance I would ever hold a baby in my arms this side of heaven. I spent my holiday battling hot flashes and mood swings in a drug induced menopause all in an attempt to get my body to do what I felt in my heart it was supposed to do—carry and sustain a baby. It was a little easier to say the words “I’m thankful” that Thanksgiving. I had seen God work. I could see, though dimly, that through the dark and heavy clouds of loss and infertility, God was doing something in my sad heart. I just didn’t know what it was yet.

I remember the fourth Thanksgiving, smack in the middle of the baby years with twins, spending many hours pumping and feeding and going to the doctor and therapy. I wondered why after all my longing for a baby God would give me such difficulty with their lives. I wanted ease, not discomfort. I wanted simplicity, not complication. I was so overwhelmingly thankful for every ounce of them, yet I struggled with my circumstances that looked different than I anticipated. Yet still, God was doing something.

Here I am on the sixth Thanksgiving. Lord willing, farther along than I was in the beginning. Still waiting for prayers to be answered. Still battling discontentment with the life I have been given with its mundane struggles, sin, and sorrow, yet daily reminded of the rock solid truth that God is a good and faithful God to his people. He doesn’t leave us. He gives us only good things, even if our definition of good is different. This Thanksgiving, I feel like I am coming to terms with the reality of life in a broken world and I am thankful for it in all its complexity.

I’ve had Thanksgivings of want and Thanksgivings of plenty, Thanksgivings of rebellion and Thanksgivings of restoration. It’s easier to say “I’m thankful” than it was in the beginning, but not because I got what I wanted. These children give me much to be thankful for, yes. But it is more than that. I’m thankful that in my darkness and cynicism and unbelief God did not forsake me. I’m thankful that when I wrestled through the lot he was giving me he still pointed me upward and worked faith into my brittle heart. I’m thankful for years of sorrow and loss, because in the loss of what was most precious to me God was found to be infinitely better than any earthly thing. I’ve learned in the wanting that God shows up, that he can be trusted, and that even when the clouds hang low a break in them is coming.

So I’m thankful this Thanksgiving. As I kiss my boys goodnight and tuck them in bed, I’m so very thankful that they are here with me. I’m thankful for their boundless energy and middle of the night cuddles. I’m thankful for the life they bring to our home that was once so strikingly empty and quiet. But I’m equally thankful that God was here with me as he taught me how to wait on his timetable.

You Have Gifts and I Have Gifts

My sister-in-law and her kids just spent ten days with us. While it was quite the circus around here, I got pretty used to our evening dinners together and growing addiction to Call the Midwife. Parenting alongside another mom for ten days gave me a helpful perspective I've been working through since I became a mom two and a half years ago.

There are many different kinds of moms. And that is a very good thing.

My sister-in-law is a woman of many talents. She can walk into a room and redecorate it in her mind in a matter of seconds. In fact, I sent her a picture of Seth's room before we completed it, asking for help with how to fit everything in there, and immediately she sent me back a sketch of an idea. Did I say she is quite the artist? She is. Her kids regularly ask her to draw pictures of their favorite animals or characters for them, and she gladly obliges. She can make stuff out of Play Doh. She can put together toys and build towers and train tracks without getting frustrated. She is crafty and can think of fun projects for our kids to do together. She is resourceful and servant-hearted, always willing to go the extra mile for people.

She is nothing short of amazing.

And I am nothing like her.

I like other things. I do other things. I am good at other things. Her kids expect different things from her that my kids would never even dream of expecting, and vice versa. She parents her kids out of her gifts and strengths, and I do the same with mine. We both bring something to motherhood that the other does not have, and through this we are helping shape children who will bring different strengths and gifts to the world.

The world needs mothers who are crafty and the world needs mothers who pretend with their kids. The world needs mothers who have dance parties and the world needs mothers who play kickball. The world needs mothers who do all sorts of things, because the world needs kids who do all sorts of things.

Often we see the strength of others as a commentary on our weakness, we feel threatened by them and judge them to protect our own feelings of inadequacy. But their strengths are not a threat to us. They are a gift. They are an opportunity to stand in awe of the abundant creativity of God. Just like we can't all be doctors and scientists, we can't all be crafters either. It's not cause for comparison, but cause for appreciation for how God has gifted each of us to parent the children that God has given us.

My friend Trillia Newbell says it well in her book Fear and Faith:

In our fear of being judged as lazy or of incurring the Lord's disapproval, one way we might seek to feel better about ourselves is to mock other women. Yet have we ever stepped back to consider that some women have been especially gifted by God as cheerful, thankful homemakers?

She goes on to say this in response to our comparison:

What if you rejoiced instead? Perhaps if you see women who excel in areas you do not, it can be used as an opportunity to thank God for His creative design. 

So embrace your strengths, my friends. But also, embrace the strengths of others. Every gift and ability we have been given is working together to serve the world that God has diversely created.

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 Time is Never Enough

When we were at seminary, we regularly sang the hymn "Soldiers of Christ, in Truth Arrayed." The hymn, written for the first graduation ceremony of The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, is moving and these lines have always stuck with me:

"We meet to part, but part to meet."

It's a fitting song for a seminary setting. Students are transient. You make friends with fellow students only to say "goodbye" a few years later, likely never to see each other again.

My parents were here visiting this past week, and like every time we are all together, we always think the time really is too short. "If only we had a few more days," we say. Except this time we did have a few more days. My mom and dad stayed longer than they both had ever stayed together (with the exception of my mom practically moving in after the twins were born!). When we go to their house for Christmas, we tack on an extra day with the hopes that maybe this time the time spent together will feel sufficient, like we aren't saying our goodbyes before we even get started.

But it never does. And this time I was struck by the fact that no amount of time will ever feel like enough. We could spend the next month together and still cry with the same amount of sadness when the time to go our separate ways arrives. Because it's not about the time. It's about the relationships. The more you love someone the more you want to be around them. I love my family, so naturally I enjoy their company. I will always feel like our time is cut short because of the nature of our relationship. But it's also more than that. The deep ache I felt as I watched their car drive away on Tuesday morning is pointing to something deep within my soul. I wasn't made for such departures. As a human being, created in God's image, I was made for relationship--relationships that aren't hindered by the distance of time or place. Every goodbye with my family and friends is reminding me that there is a day coming where there will be no more tears or departures.

The time will never feel like enough because it really isn't enough. The fellowship I experience with my parents is a sweet foretaste of the eternal fellowship I will experience with my heavenly Father. So I will cry. I will be sad. I will ache and miss them with each passing day. And I will look forward to the next time I get to see their faces in the flesh.

How The Church Became Our Family

Most of us can recall a time where God gives us something we think will be the end of us, only to find out later that it was the exact thing God used to strengthen our faith—or give us a better portion than we could have hoped for. Maybe it’s the break-up with the person you were certain you would marry. Yet years later you meet another person, one more suited for you and better than you could have hoped for. Maybe it’s the dream job that fell through. Yet after another unlikely interview somewhere else you get the job you never even thought to dream of. God works like that, doesn’t he? Because he is sovereign, and we are not, his hand is in the details we cannot even see, let alone attempt to control.

When God withholds something from us, his purposes are always to give us something better. Of course, we may not perceive it as better at the time, or even in the immediate future. But he is good and we are not. He is wise and we are not. He can see infinitely into the future and we strain to see what is standing right in front of us. This is why we can trust him. I know for myself, some of the darkest moments of feeling as if God has completely abandoned me have turned out to be the moments where I ultimately saw him working in ways I could never have imagined. In the desert he is working to bring water to his thirsty children. In the storm he is our strong refuge who gives us a rainbow on the other side. He does not forget us, even if we feel forgotten sometimes.

For most of my adult life I have lived away from my family. I never thought much about it except on the occasional birthday or holiday when other members of my family were gathered together to celebrate and I was left to experience the party by telephone many miles away. I missed them, but I never thought I would live near them. My life didn’t lend itself to living in their proximity and I was okay with that. When Daniel and I got married, we appreciated the forging of a new family that came with living in a city away from both sets of parents and all of our siblings. It was good for us. When we moved to Arkansas we had a church, friends, and a whole lot of time with each other that made transitioning all the easier. Again, I didn’t think much about my life away from my parents, siblings, and nieces and nephews. I cherished the moments I got with them on holidays, but was content with where God had us.

Then we had twins.

There is something about becoming a momma that makes you long for your own momma, you know? Maybe it was the fact that I was pouring every ounce of energy, sleep, and whatever leftover adrenaline remained on two very tiny, dependent baby boys. I just needed my mom to come rub my head and let me take a nap on her. In God’s kindness, my mom came a lot to help in those early months of the twins’ life. But in the interim periods between her visits to help us I noticed a recurring pattern in my own life.

When it got hard I would threaten to pack up with the twins and move to Florida. If we had a dollar for every time I said I was going to do that in that first year I’m pretty sure we would be rich by now. Some of that particular threat was rooted in my own tendency towards escapism, but some of it was rooted in the fact that for the first time in my adult life I really, really missed being around family. Of course I missed them before this time, but this was different. As I watched my little boys grow up right before my eyes my heart broke knowing that our parents and others would only be able to experience this wonder through pictures and the occasional Skype call.

But there was something more serious in my cries of despair. I was missing the treasure of hope that God was literally laying at my feet nearly every week.

During the entire time the boys were in the NICU (five weeks) our church family brought us meals and gave me rides to the hospital. Because I had a C-section, I couldn’t drive up there every day and Daniel had to keep working, so without the rides I would only be able to see the boys once a day for a couple of hours. Many women in our church sacrificed their time to pick me up, drop me off, and pick me up again two hours later. They gave me rides to the store to pick up essentials we were missing. They brought us meals so I could rest when I wasn’t at the hospital. They were our family in the absence of blood relatives.

As the time has progressed and I am in a different season, my missing of my family has only intensified. But again, we have not been left alone. When Daniel travels, friends come to help me with the boys and keep me company. When we miscarried a few months ago, many women brought us meals as we grieved and recovered.

Yes, we miss our family. Yes, we wish our boys could grow up around our parents and their aunts, uncles, and cousins. But in their stead the church has become our family. They have cried with us, rejoiced with us, and served us like we were their own. If we had received the desires of our heart, namely the seeming ease of being around our own parents, we would have missed this beautiful picture of God’s family being joined together through Christ in our own lives.

God knew what I needed in those days of despair over missing my family. He could see what I couldn’t, that the church was my family. These people who he sent his son for were (and still are) my own through Christ’s blood. And I love them like my own family.

A Father's Delight

On Saturday we took the twins to an unused baseball field to let them run around in the outfield. Both boys are at a point in their life where running is their top priority. Since our backyard is fairly uneven, rocky, and has a variety of levels, it's not really conducive for toddler activities. So we have been brainstorming about ways to help them burn their restless energy. And that is how our Saturday activity was born.

Daniel noticed the baseball field when he was playing tennis earlier that morning. He could hardly wait for the twins to wake from their nap so we could take them out to play. In his fatherly imagination it was going to be a great time. And it was. From the minute we got there both boys could hardly contain their excitement. Zach, who is a little more active than Luke, ran for the entirety of our time there. As he ran through the grass, from one end to the other, he screamed and laughed like we had never heard before. Both of their faces expressed such joy, that in turn made us joyful. As we drove home from our time there (they ran for thirty minutes straight and were dripping sweat!), we couldn't stop talking about how much fun we had. But what struck us was how our excitement was simply owing to the delight we saw in our children. For those thirty minutes Zach and Luke were filled with unbridled joy in doing what they were made to do, which for 16 month old boys is to run and run and run until you can't run anymore. And we felt every bit of that joy.

As I've reflected on this experience more I have been amazed at how kind God is to give us such beautiful, living, tangible metaphors to understand the depth of his love for us. So many of our earthly realities are designed to point us to the perfect heavenly one that is waiting for us. Through our very lives we are living these metaphors. But even more than that we get to experience a taste of the beauty the metaphor is describing. When I think of how happy I was to see my boys enjoy something so small as running in an open field, it pales in comparison to God's delight in giving us good gifts. He loves seeing his children appreciate and find joy in the good gifts he gives so freely.

But more than that his gifts to us are always for our good. We took our sons to an open field, and not our backyard, because we know what is best for them. We know they want to run. We know they love being outside. But we also know that four foot tall drop-offs and rocky terrain are not the best places for wobbly toddlers. So we took them to a place that was better for them. We didn't withhold the gift. We simply gave it parameters and a better context. If the twins had only known the rocks, broken sticks, and uneven landscape of our backyard they would never have known the wonder of a flat open field where they could run with abandon for hours.

God is infinitely more loving and wise than that. He delights in giving us good gifts. And even when those gifts are withheld or seem far away, he is not doing so arbitrarily. He has a purpose. He has greater joy awaiting us. In our finite minds we would settle for the rocky terrain and uneven landscape, when in God's perfect wisdom he has open fields just around the corner.

On Five Years of Marriage

Marriage is one of those things that you think you know all about and then you get blindsided by the reality that what you thought you knew really was nothing at all. At least it was that way for me. Before we got married I thought a lot of things about marriage. I had high expectations. I expected that we would spend endless amounts of time together. We would relax at the end of a long day and watch television and read together. We would explore our city and go out to eat at fun new restaurants. But those things take time and money, none of which we had a lot of as we got married in the middle of Daniel's seminary career. I expected all that we knew about manhood and womanhood and conflict and resolution would somehow just fall into place. But textbook and real life are two very different ballgames. I expected more children, easy pregnancies, and a different career path. None of those things is true of our life together. Earlier this week Daniel and I both read a helpful article on what to do when your twenties aren't what you hoped they would be. We can relate. We got married in our twenties and they weren't what we thought they would be. In some ways they were better and in others much, much harder. But we do know one thing:

We are not the same people today that we were five years ago.

And for that we are grateful.

Marriage has been a good and hard road of unexpected turns and circumstances. I have seen firsthand what it means to be loved in sickness and in health. Daniel has held my hand as I've been wheeled off for one surgery, one C-section, and one D&C. He wept with me through two miscarriages and two years of infertility. He has held my hand through uncertain ultrasounds with a high risk pregnancy and made me dinner when pregnancy hormones made the smell of the oven too much for a queasy stomach to handle. He has loved me through happiness and tears. He has stood with me during multiple middle of the night feedings and daily visits to the NICU. He has loved me fiercely. We have laughed over things that only we think are funny and talked passionately about things that only we can understand. There is no one else I would rather spend my days with, even if they are hard and good and messy and crazy.

But like all marriages, ours is far from perfect. We know what it's like to fight on date night and go to bed frustrated. We know what it's like to feel distant even when you are sitting right next to each other. When we said "I do," five years ago, we felt a rush of emotion and never wanted it to end. We know what it's like for that emotion to wane and then come back with greater intensity than there ever was before.

What I've learned in these short five years is that I have a lot to learn. We are not where we want to be, but are glad we get to walk this road together. We know less today than we did five years ago, but by God's grace are not the same as we were that joyous day either. I've learned that no marriage is perfect. Every marriage has its quirks and blind spots, but the beautiful thing is it is ours. This story is our story. With all of its tears, disagreements, laughter, and silliness, it is ours. God has joined us together and he is making us into a picture of himself.

God knew what I needed when he gave me Daniel Reissig five years ago. And I wouldn't have it any other way. Here's to fifty more, babe.

For the Sad Mother's Day

Mother's Day is right around the corner. With all of the advertising and social media hype, it's easy to think that Mother's Day is a day where everyone is celebrating with smiles on their faces and children in their arms. But maybe that is not you at all. Maybe the talk about Mother's Day makes you want to crawl into a corner and hide there until Sunday passes. I have a feeling you are not the only one. While many women will be celebrating Mother's Day this coming Sunday with much to be thankful for, the reality is that there are an equal number of (if not more) women walking into the day with nothing more than utter dread.

Perhaps you just lost a child or can't get pregnant at all. Or maybe you recently lost your own mother. Mother's Day just feels to painful for you. It's a glaring reminder of the ache in your soul. Maybe your children aren't rising up to call you blessed, even after all you do for them. Instead they spit their breakfast on your church clothes, tell you they hate you, or disobey when you are trying to take a family picture. Mother's Day makes you feel like a Proverbs 31 failure. Or maybe your husband recently left you or he is prone to forget that Mother's Day is supposed to be a day where you are taken care of, not the other way around. You are again confronted with the prospect that no one is going to recognize your efforts on Mother's Day and it all feels in vain.

Mother's Day, with all its Hallmark celebration, is sometimes a big slap in the face to the brokenhearted mom. And even if you aren't in the midst of grave difficulty right now, Mother's Day isn't always filled with the endless amounts of appreciation we hope for or feel entitled to.

So what are we to do when Mother's Day is less than what we hope for? Or worse, what are we to do when Mother's Day is a dark holiday for us, not a joyous one?

Consider these words from Psalm 34:18-19

The LORD is near to the brokenhearted 

and saves the crushed in spirit.

Many are the afflictions of the righteous,  

but the LORD delivers him out of them all. 

Do you hear what God is saying to you this Mother's Day? He is not far off from you. He has not forgotten how you labor and care for your children. He has not forgotten your desperate prayers for an open womb. He has not forgotten the agonizing tears of grief you have cried over a wayward child. He has not forgotten how you work for your family in the midst of trying times. He has not forgotten that you are doing this whole parenting thing all alone. Everyone else may forget to honor you this day, but God sees you. It is not lost on him.

And when your heart breaks over your circumstances, especially as you see the myriad of families celebrating this Mother's Day, remember this, dear sister: God is near to you. When Mother's Day hurts it is easy to draw the conclusion that no one is near to you, especially not the Creator of the universe. But that cannot be further from the truth. Is your spirit crushed this Mother's Day? God's word says he will save you out of the soul crushing grief you are experiencing. Is your heart broken this Mother's Day? God's word says he will draw near to you. Are your afflictions more than you can count? God's words says he will deliver you out of every last one of them.

Dear brokenhearted sister, know that you are not forgotten this Mother's Day.

Life With Twins: "You Must Be So Busy!"

One of the many comments I get when I'm out and about with the twins is "you must be so busy!" I guess I am. The truth is, since I have only had twins, I don't know any different. I was thrown into this whole parenting thing with two babies instead of one. So I've learned parenting like the rest of my mom friends, just with less arm and lap space. As you can probably imagine, I get other comments, too. Comments like "Better you than me!" "They must be double trouble!" Those are true statements, too, I guess. When one gets into something, the other usually follows. And I am glad it's not them raising these precious boys. I like them and I'm so glad they are mine. Twins tend to attract attention and comments, which I've gotten used to, and they boys don't mind at all! They LOVE the attention from people.

In all honesty, life with twins has been the craziest, most amazing, most difficult, most joy-filled reality I have ever known. Yes, I'm busy. Yes, I'm tired. Yes, my kids disobey and get into stuff. But that's what motherhood is. It's busyness. It's exhausting work. It's constantly training and teaching my precious sons that there is a way to live in this crazy world.

With all the well-meaning comments, and some not-so-well-meaning, I always remind myself and them that double the crazy means double the joy. We really believe that, Daniel and me. We look at these two sweet 14 month old boys and think, "we can't believe we get to be their parents." Sure, some days are hard. I'm not going to pretend it's always smiles and giggles around here. It's not. But nearly every day when we put them to bed we marvel at the stewardship we have been given. God has entrusted these precious souls to us. What a task!

Busyness comes and goes. There are some days that are filled with a little more crazy, tears, and disarray than others. But there is never less love and joy. And as I like to say often, "double the crazy truly is double the fun."

A little by way of update on these two, since I realized I haven't done this since they were 10 months old!

Luke is officially out of his helmet. Praise the Lord! He was such a trooper through the whole process. Both boys are growing well and learning so much. They enjoy playing with cars and balls. What little boy doesn't, right? Zach can say "eye" and "nose" (it sounds like "ne") and can point to both. Luke is stuck on only saying and pointing to his nose. They love to eat and drink milk, which is such a change from a year ago! Luke LOVES tomatoes. Seriously loves them. They both love fruit and would only eat that if I gave it to them exclusively. They have become quite attached to their blankets, which I find absolutely precious. Daniel and I always think each phase is so fun, but this has been our favorite so far. They love playing and learning new things. They will bring books to us and toys to us and want us to play with them or read to them and it melts our hearts. All in all, it's been a fun second year with them!

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This post is part of a blog link-up for the Twin Talk Blog. Since April is Multiple Birth Awareness Month, I wanted to join in the fun with other twin mamas! I wish this blog on twins had been around last year at this time. But I enjoy reading it now!

The Gospel for Moms

People prepared me for a lot of things before the birth of my twin boys last year. I received advice on everything from sleep training, my own impending lack of sleep, the difficulty of learning to be a parent, and that in reality you are never really prepared. I was fully prepared to feel completely unprepared when those two little ones burst on the scene. And they did with complete surprise (eight weeks early!). We were as unprepared as we were ever going to be.

I knew my life would be turned upside down, but since that had never happened to me before I didn’t really understand what to expect. And no one really prepared me for the fact that even the simplest things that I once held dear (like quiet time reading my bible or a good book, or the ability to focus while praying) would be left at the hospital with my former life. The last thirteen months for me have been about getting my bearings back.

Gloria Furman knows what it’s like to have “mommy brain” and no time to think. She understands full hands and an exhausted body. She spends her days pouring out all of her energy for her husband and four kids. Yet she has learned how to trust and treasure Christ in the midst of this seemingly mundane life. That is why she is the perfect person to write a book about this very topic. In her newest book, Treasuring Christ When Your Hands Are Full: Gospel Meditations for Busy Moms, she speaks to women in the trenches of motherhood and offers the very encouragement she speaks to herself. With this book you feel like you are speaking to a trusted friend, one who knows your struggles and has real help for you right where you are at. For a busy mom, who can often feel isolated in the daily grind of caring for young children and a home, this book offers exactly what we need—more of Jesus.

I found myself wanting to write down nearly every other sentence because of the nuggets of truth that were packed into even the fewest of words. Reading this book felt like Furman was speaking directly to me, as if she knew what my daily life looked like. And that’s the beauty of this book. There is something for every mom. If you struggle to find a quiet place to commune with God, Furman assures you that Jesus is not confined to a comfy chair in the wee hours of the morning. He promises to meet you where you are at, even if it is at the changing table or the kitchen sink. If you find yourself weighed down by your endless quest to be the “perfect mom,” Furman shows that while no mother is remotely close to perfect, we do have a perfect Savior who is sufficient to cover all of our sins and failures. If you feel yourself losing sight of the goal in this whole motherhood thing, Furman lovingly reminds us that we are parenting eternal souls who will never die. Motherhood is about tomorrow and eternity, she says. While she helps us feel the tremendous weight of this calling, she also points us to the tremendous joy it affords us.

Throughout the book, Furman reminds us that while we are weak, Christ is always strong. This is good news for weary moms who simply cannot add one more thing to an already overflowing plate of responsibilities. So if you are a weak, needy, desperate mom this book is for you. You will find on these pages that Christ is sufficient, his gospel is true, and his promises are all you need to faithfully do all you have been called to as a mother to your children.

 

10 Months: A Twin Update

 

 

It is so hard to believe they are 10 months already. Getting into the double digits with them makes me feel like this baby stage is quickly leaving us. And while I'm excited about the future with them, there is something about the cuddliness and sweetness of the baby stage that I will most certainly miss. It has been a while since I updated on these little twinsies, so I figured it was about time.

 

They are growing every day and busy as can be. They are all boy. They like to crawl, climb, pull up, and get into anything they can get their little hands on. Zach is a "swiper", as we like to call him. If you aren't careful, he will swipe anything, things like knives off the table, food off your plate, or the paper that seems out of reach. Luke is our bouncer. He likes to bounce all of the time. He also likes to stand, which can prove challenging at times. They are very happy little guys. And social. I am pretty sure they have never met a stranger. This is very comforting for me when I leave them in the nursery at church or have a babysitter for them.

 

Luke is still in physical therapy and helmet therapy, but doing better every week. We are so pleased with his progress. Zach is still bigger than Luke. He even likes to exert his physical dominance by stealing toys from Luke regularly. Poor Lukey doesn't mind, but Zach minds a lot when Luke takes his toys! They are learning how to babble and say things like "ma-ma" and "da-da" and even can wave and say "ba-ba"! Zach can't say it much yet, but Luke is getting there!

 

They absolutely love each other. It is such a joy to watch. They are never far away from each other, and if they are, they quickly come back together. Zach makes Luke laugh all of the time and I only wish I knew what he was doing that was so funny to him!

 

It's hard to believe that a mere 10 months ago they were my little NICU babies. God has done so much in growing them, changing them, and protecting them. They are the sweetest blessing to us and we are so very thankful for them. When I think of the Christmases without a baby, and how my heart longed for full arms, I never imagined both of my arms would be full. And full they are! We are truly celebrating God's kindness to us this Christmas. His kindness in sustaining us in the years of miscarriage and infertility. And his kindness in giving us these little miracles. We love them so!

Here are some more pictures of them in action!

Life With Twins: 8 Months Later

Tomorrow these sweet boys will be 8 months old. I can hardly believe it. Sometimes it feels like yesterday that I saw their precious faces for the first time. And then other times it feels like they have always been part of our lives. We love them so stinking much!

So what is life like with these twinsies? One part crazy. One part totally fun. And equal parts overwhelming joy. I will say, the first 5 or 6 months were really intense. With the first 5 weeks being all things NICU, coupled with the fact that they were pretty much like newborns for the first 4 months of their life, it was exhausting. Then you add the fact that we have never been parents before, and you have a recipe for a little bit of chaos.

Would I do it again? Absolutely.

Around 4 months we realized Luke had some issues with neck rotation and it was confirmed by an occupational therapist and his pediatrician. That explained his flat head (he only slept on one side). He was diagnosed with torticollis, which started us on a busy few months of therapy evaluations, head scans, and doctor visits. He will be in physical therapy until he reaches his important developmental milestones for the first year, and he will be in the helmet about as long, too. Thankfully, we have gotten into a good routine with sitters for Zach, occasionally taking them both to therapy (Luke does better with brother there sometimes), and doing home exercises. At first, I was really sad and overwhelmed with the prospect of more doctor visits for our family. Our life has been doctor visits for the last year or so and I just wanted some normalcy--whatever that means, right?

So what are the twins like?

They are so much fun! They are really happy babies for the most part. They have their usual crabby moments, but who doesn't? They love attention and people. And they especially love women and little girls. They have really started to notice each other and "talk" to each other. I love it and can't wait to see them interact more and more! Luke is much more vocal than Zach, though they both like to talk. Luke often talks himself to sleep at night time and talks himself awake in the morning. They smile all of the time. My favorite moment with them is when I go get them from naps or in the morning. They go crazy in their cribs with excitement!

They really want to move. Just this week they both have started getting on their knees and elbows and started rocking. They roll everywhere (especially Zach) and they can scoot backwards and with their legs (while their head is down), but they often get frustrated when they can't move. They both sit up well and love being able to see the world. Luke's physical therapist told me yesterday that some babies have little interest in moving, but that is not him at all, nor is it true of his brother. They cannot wait to move, though mommy is fine with them waiting a little longer! Honestly, their drive to move doesn't surprise me at all. Luke was very active when I was pregnant with them. I don't think he ever stopped moving. Zach was active, too, but nothing like Luke was.

They also aren't as cuddly anymore because they want to move. The other day they wanted to cuddle before naps and I ate up every minute of it because it rarely happens anymore. I miss it!

Growth wise they are catching up nicely. The doctor said they are doing exactly what they should be doing. Zach is still bigger than Luke, but they both are ahead of the curve, which is what we want. They love eating solids! That is a huge prayer answer for me because bottle feeding has been a bit of a challenge at times and I was terrified to introduce something new. I think they like solids better than bottles! And Zach has a tooth coming through, so that explains his fussiness the last few weeks! I am sure Luke is not far behind.

People often asking me what the hardest part of having twins is, and while I have nothing to compare it to, I think the fact that I can't hold them both at the same time is the most challenging. Having two kids is not unique to many moms, but having two infants is. And the fact that they both need to be transported by my arms poses a challenge sometimes, especially when there are over 35 pounds of baby between the two of them. I suppose it is good that I am learning how to share my love and attention early on because that is just part of being a mom, but it does kill me sometimes that I can't pay attention to both of them at the same time. If I could multiply my arms and my affection I would be golden!

So that is where we are at with these boys of ours. Most days my eyes well up with tears thinking about God's kindness to us. I remember vividly the many months and years of begging God for a child, just one child to call my own. And in his kindness he gave me two precious, precious boys. I try to remember that especially when I feel like I am losing my mind with exhaustion and sinful lack of patience. I cannot imagine any other life than the one I have right in this moment. I love these boys with every fiber of my being. They are such a gift to Daniel and me. And we can't believe how far they have come!

Twin Update: One Month Old!

One month ago yesterday two precious little boys decided to come to us eight weeks early in a whirlwind of excitement and fear. Even as I type this it's hard to believe they are already one month old. The last month has gone by so fast I can hardly remember all that has happened. And then, at times the days just drag on as we wait to bring them home from the NICU.

But I do know one thing, with each passing moment our hearts only grow fuller with love for them. They are growing and changing every day, it seems. They are much more alert now, especially before and after eating. We love watching their little eyes, facial expressions, and eagerness to eat. In fact, they are now eating every other feeding by mouth. We are hopeful that they will move to every feeding by the end of the week.

They have both gained more than a pound since their birth. Luke weighs 4 lbs 12 oz and Zach weighs 5 lbs 8 oz. They are looking more like newborns now and less like wrinkly preemies!

The other night I told my husband that it makes me sad that the first month of their life is over and we will never have their first month with them at home. He helpfully reminded me that technically I am still supposed to be pregnant, so in reality we are actually benefiting by seeing their sweet faces earlier than we anticipated. When I was pregnant I always talked about how I couldn't wait to see their faces and now I get to see them every day! I am thankful for his perspective in our not ideal situation.

For the most part the boys are keeping pace with every marker they are supposed to be hitting. They have not missed a beat their entire time in the NICU, and for that we are thankful. Right now we are praying they continue to eat well and that we can hopefully take them home soon. Until the day that I can see them face to face every night before bed, I will stare at these sweet pictures to keep me going.

 

Twin Update: One Week Old!

Whew! It is hard to believe that these boys are one week old today. This time last week we were sitting in our hospital room overwhelmed by God's provision in a safe (and unexpected) delivery of our boys. And now, here we are thanking God for one week of life! I finally feel like I can sit down and write out the story of their birth. There were so many things that we saw God do in the entire process last week and I will write about that in the coming days. Because they are in the NICU my life right now pretty much revolves around pumping, visiting them in the NICU, and sleeping. And I really do love every minute of it. I knew I wanted to be a mom, but I had no context for how much I would love it. Even though I am exhausted most of the time and can't remember one day to the next, I am so happy with these precious boys that God has given us. So here is how they decided to come to us last Tuesday.

I went in for my ultrasound on Monday morning. We knew going into it that there was a possibility that Luke had further slowed in his growth, so we were a little prepared for the news that he seemed to have grown very little from my appointment ten days prior. I even had started packing a bag over the weekend just in case we had to go to the hospital on a whim. Daniel had just spent all weekend getting their room ready and we felt going into the appointment that the boys could come and we wouldn't be super stressed. But we were seriously praying that they would wait a little longer, or at least to 34 weeks. After measuring Luke first the doctor said that he had dropped to the 11th percentile (he was in the 20th before) and only gained 2 ounces in 10 days (not good). He checked Luke's cord and saw that his blood flow was not good enough and told us that it was becoming increasingly apparent that my womb was not a safe place for Luke to grow. He then proceeded to tell us that we needed to get them both out soon. I asked how soon and he said "you are having these babies this week." He allowed us to run home and pack a bag and then told us to come back to the hospital that afternoon. At the time he wanted us to spend at least 48 hours in the hospital while I received a couple rounds of steroids to strengthen their lungs. That would have allowed them to monitor the boys continuously just in case something went wrong with Luke. So we ran home and started packing. That was the fastest we have ever packed. We weren't even sure what to take. It's such a strange feeling knowing that the next time you come home you will no longer be pregnant.

So off the the hospital we went.

Because we were supposed to be there for a few days I packed tons of stuff to do. I was going to write thank you notes, read some parenting books, and catch up on some writing I wanted to finish before the boys came. I didn't touch that stuff one time. Once we got to the hospital we were surrounded by a flurry of nurses who constantly monitored the boys and me. We were given a tour of the NICU. My doctor came by to visit. And we had some good time with friends who came by to see us. Daniel and I started thinking that maybe this was God's way of giving us some extra time together before the boys came. My birthday was the next day (Tuesday) so we started thinking through how we were going to celebrate my 30th birthday while I was hooked up to a ton of monitors that were messed up with the slightest movement on my part. We were not expecting any more surprises.

The steroid shot was given to me that night and they gave me a sleeping pill too so I could at least try to sleep (since steroids make you wired). It didn't work at all. I do not usually have a hard time sleeping but for some reason I could not sleep. I was wide awake. I read every piece of material the NICU gave us. I wrote down some thoughts about the boys coming early. I read some things I wanted to read. I read Scripture and felt like God was preparing my heart for the arrival of my boys. I have not stayed up all night since high school and I forgot how long a night is when you never go to sleep. It's awful! Sometime in the middle of the night my back started hurting and I just attributed it to the fact that I was propped up some on my back and the boys were increasingly becoming heavier to me. I thought my body was just unable to handle the weight anymore. Around 5:30 the nurse came in and asked me if I felt something. I didn't feel anything, so I asked her what she was talking about.

"You are having a contraction right now. You've actually been having them pretty regularly for a while."

I told her my back hurt and she said that was why.

At first I didn't think anything of it, but I started noticing more and more that I was feeling something going on, but I thought they were just Braxton Hicks (which I got all of the time). Around 7:00 AM my new nurse came in and said that now they were 5-6 minutes apart. She decided it was probably best to check me since I was progressing, not slowing down in my contractions.

I was already 2-3 centimeters dilated.

Now that wouldn't be a huge deal except for the fact that just a few days ago I was nothing with no indicators of changing any time soon.

She proceeded to tell me I was in labor and told me that I was probably having the babies within the next few hours. I woke Daniel up and told him I was in labor. It took him a few minutes to really comprehend what was happening, but then it hit us both. We went from excitement to fear and then back to excitement and then back to fear. We knew the twins had a better chance of success if I had another round of shots, so we were hoping the doctor could stop the labor. He came to see me around 8:00 AM and confirmed that I was in labor. He originally said he was going to stop labor in order to give the boys a few more days to cook inside of me, but after talking with my high-risk doctor decided it would be best to let labor takes its course and deliver the boys within a few hours. The high-risk doctor felt like my body was telling us something, namely that Luke needed to get out in order for him to be okay.

We had to wait for an operating room to open up and since I wasn't in distress and the babies were fine we weren't high priority. Around 10:00 AM I started noticing more pain so she checked me again and I was already at a 5. At that point they were prepared to let me deliver them if I got to a 10. I was not prepared for that at all! I checked into the hospital thinking I was going to have scheduled C-section. Now I was facing the prospect of delivering them naturally! And after hearing them say that Luke would probably do better being delivered via C-section, I was really nervous about the alternative.

Thankfully, a room opened up and around 12:30 PM  I was on my way down to deliver the boys. At 1:02 PM  and 1:04 PM Lucas Daniel Reissig and Zachary Garrett Reissig entered this world at 31 weeks 6 days gestation! When they were getting me ready for the C-section I felt a sudden sense of fear about what their lungs would be like. It was almost too much to bear. I just prayed that God would bring them out screaming and thankfully they did make some noise on the way out. I didn't get to see them but for a few seconds because they NICU team took them away immediately to intubate them and evalute them. The moment I saw their faces my heart melted. Daniel and I both agree that it feels like a dream. Everything is a blur, but a happy one.

We didn't get to see them for about an hour while they NICU got them stabilized. After that they wheeled me down in my hospital bed and we were able to spend some time with them. From that moment on we continue to love them more and more. Every time we see them our heart melts a little more and we can hardly believe they are ours. The NICU doctor expects them to be there for at least four weeks, give or take a week. So we are one week down!

Here are some stats:

Luke weighed 3 lbs 4 ounces at birth. He was 16 inches long.

Zach weighed 3 lbs 15 ounce at birth. He was 19 inches long.

Both boys did not need to be intubated for long. It only lasted 30 minutes. Since then they have just had a little oxygen through a nasal canula.

And here are some pictures!

Zach

 



Luke

 



 

Zach and me

Daddy and Luke

Friday is for Fotos (And an Update on the Twins!)

I am now officially in my third trimester. Even as I type that it's so hard for me to believe. In some ways the pregnancy feels like it has flown by and then other days it feels like it's dragging ever so slowly. Either way, there is not much time left in this pregnancy. And in six to nine weeks we will be meeting these sweet boys in person. We can hardly wait!

Update on the Boys

They are movers and shakers. I rarely need to actually sit and count movements because they move so much. I am very thankful for that. People often ask me if I can tell a difference in who is kicking. I can! Since I know where they are positioned I have learned to tell who is kicking me at specific times. Today I felt Zach hiccuping for the first time, or at least I think that is what it was. I feel Luke a lot more because of where he is positioned. He seems to be more forward in my womb. Both of them are packing a mean punch these days, and Daniel was even able to see them rolling around the other day. As of the last ultrasound Zach was still head down, but Luke had moved to a breech position. We are hoping he will move himself around in the next few weeks. Zach is still measuring larger than Luke, but they are both growing at the right pace (i.e. they are doubling their weight each visit). It just looks like Luke is a little smaller, but the doctor said that is perfectly normal. Daniel likes to call him our runt!

Update on Momma

I am really starting to feel weighed down by the boys. But that's to be expected at this point. My last day of teaching is this coming Wednesday and I'm really looking forward to spending some time getting ready for their arrival (and resting!). In all honesty, I would take tiredness and physical discomfort over the nausea of the first seventeen weeks any day, so there are no complaints here. Feeling them move is the highlight of my day and I just get so excited knowing that my two children are almost here. While the pregnancy has been fairly smooth up to this point, I did get a little bit of bad news last Friday. I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes. I was really bummed when I found out. I honestly wasn't expecting the diagnosis, so it hit me really hard. And then we found out that Zach was starting to measure a little larger in his abdomen, which could have been because of the diabetes. I met with a dietitian on Tuesday and was really encouraged that this can be managed for the remainder of the pregnancy and have already started seeing an improvement in my glucose levels.

As much as this pregnancy has been the greatest source of joy for me, it has reminded me again of the brokenness of this world. Pregnancy, like everything else, was cursed by the arrival of sin in the Garden. And while we often think of this in terms of the pain of labor and delivery, the entire process of pregnancy and motherhood brings with it pain and suffering. From the fact that our bodies don't make enough insulin while we are pregnant, to the pain we feel when our children reject the Christ we love. Motherhood is full of joy and full of pain--all at the same time.

 

Pregnancy, like infertility, has reminded me afresh why Christ had to come. All is not right in this world. My sinful heart, coupled with the ravages of sin everywhere else, necessitated a divine rescue. It also reminds me that one day things will be made right. One day our bodies will work properly. One day the intense joy we have already experienced will not be laced with sorrow and discomfort. One day the greatest pleasures we are given on this earth will pale in comparison to the overwhelming pleasure of being with our Jesus, who will wipe every tear away and make all things new.

 

So that's an update on our little twinsies. We are daily reminded of God's kindness to us giving us these precious gifts, and are often overcome with excitement about their impending arrival!

Help! I Need Somebody

I really don't like asking for help. Maybe it's the oldest child in me (i.e. pride and self-sufficiency). Or maybe I just feel bad inconveniencing people (again, pride). But I really don't like having to ask for help, especially on a regular basis. And lately, it seems like that is all I am doing.

Nothing says helpless like the third trimester of a twin pregnancy. Most days I need help putting on my shoes. I can't get all of the household tasks done. After I cook dinner I'm just too tired to do the dishes. It takes me days to put away the laundry. I need help getting out of the recliner, and sometimes off the couch. When my husband travels I can't stay alone anymore because there are too many variables that could go wrong. And the list could go on. I am a woman in need of a lot of help. Add to this mix the fact that the last few years have been fairly needy for me (surgery, infertility, miscarriage, moving), and I feel like God is doing a number on my prideful self-sufficiency.

Asking for help does something to you. It is a declaration of dependency. When I ask for help I am essentially saying "I cannot do this on my own. I need the aid of another." Asking for help is an acknowledgment that I do not have it all together, and who really likes to do that?

But as I've reflected on my helplessness these last few months I've been reminded that any self-sufficiency on my part is only an illusion. Even in my healthiest days, my ability to move with relative ease and take care of my daily tasks with speed were still not of my own making. James reminds us that there is nothing we have that we did not receive. Left to ourselves we are a helpless people, in pregnancy and in non-pregnancy. Our inability to complete everything we want to do on a given day, even in the best of circumstances, reminds us of our finiteness--and God's infiniteness. Only God gets his to-do list done. Only God is self-sufficient. We are not.

And this understanding of our helplessness translates into our need for a Savior. We bring nothing to the table when it comes to God accepting us. In fact, we can't even save ourselves. The more we see our own helplessness as human beings, the more we will see our desperate need for the salvation that only Christ can bring. My weak attempts to put my shoes on in the morning are simply a reminder that this weakness pales in comparison to the deep weakness in my own soul (i.e. sin). Sin is my greatest problem. And sin is what keeps me from seeing the Savior. Every other little weakness I face on a daily basis reminds me that God is God and I am not. I bring nothing to the table except filthy rags. He provides every grace and garment needed to cover my sinful pride and weakness.

So the next time I'm struggling to put shoes on my swollen feet, or when I feel like a beached whale trying to get off the couch, I will remember that these momentary weaknesses are reminders of my smallness. Only God is self-sufficient. Only God gets everything done every day. Only God is capable of never asking for help. And when I ask for help, no matter how hard it is, I am acknowledging once again that he is God and I am not.

God's Unexpected Gifts in 2012

A new year is exactly that, the dawn of something new. As the calender turns over we are filled with expectation over what will come in the days ahead. But we are also drawn to think back at the year that just went away. A new year is a time for reflection. We look back at the old and anticipate the new. Many are making their lists of resolutions and goals for 2013. Some are eager over all that the year holds. While some are weighed down with the prospect of another year filled with suffering and sorrow. Some are thankful that the turmoil of 2012 is behind them and thus hopeful for a brighter future.

Regardless of your circumstances coming into 2013, God has not changed. He is the same in 2013 as he was in 2012. He is working in abundant ways for our good this year, even if we can't always see clearly through the smoke and clouds of this sin-cursed life.

It's easy for me to believe that he is good at this point in my life. After years of heartache and longing, he has given us the desires of our hearts by giving us these twin boys. And we are in the expectant and eager category this new year. 2013 is the year our twins will be born, and we are anxious for that joyous day. But as I reflect on 2012, I am thankful for all that God did in the unseen ways this year, too. The most obvious gift for us was this pregnancy, but there is so much more wrapped up in this kind answer to our prayers.

I told Daniel yesterday morning that at the close of 2012 I am thankful not only for God giving us what we wanted, but more importantly giving us what we needed. Getting pregnant with twins would have been in vain if we never saw him as more glorious as a result. God was kind to give us the deepest desires of our hearts, but he did so much more than that. He saw into our hearts and gave us what our hearts needed but couldn't even think to ask for--namely, more of himself. In the overwhelming sadness and difficulty of 2012, God showed up. We started the year unsure of the outcome. We started the year with a long six months of treatment ahead (i.e. more waiting). We started the year with an empty womb and ended with a womb more full than we could have imagined. But through every tear-filled night and nauseated morning God never left our side. He sustained us. He made us love him more. He carried us and changed us. He gave our marriage renewed hope and strength. And all of this was not contingent on whether or not we ever could have gotten pregnant. The twins are just icing on the cake. We needed the darkness before we could ever see and appreciate the light.

So we are thankful this new year, obviously for our precious Zach and Luke. But even more than that we are thankful for the God who is there. He didn't just give us children. He gave us joy that will last for eternity. And that is a good way to start this 2013.

The Day After Christmas

Everyone hates the day after Christmas. It's such a letdown isn't it? After weeks of hype, preparing, wrapping, and singing, December 26th signifies that life goes back to normal until the next Christmas season. Growing up, I was always borderline depressed when December 26th rolled around. It always seemed like it came as fast as it went. I spent so much time anticipating Christmas that once December 26th came I just felt so defeated. As I've gotten older it's been harder and harder for me to be excited about Christmas like I used to be. And when I finally feel like I have the Christmas spirit I am immediately met with it's sudden departure.

It hit me this Christmas that all of the feasting, fellowship, and fun, while wonderful, was never meant to last on this earth. The greatest earthly pleasures we experience during Christmas (and every season) are designed to point us to the eternal pleasure we will experience one day in heaven. We can celebrate with all our might here on this earth knowing that it's only preparing us for an endless celebration one day with the one Christmas is all about.

So as I sit around today surrounded by used wrapping paper, crumpled gift bags, and a myriad of leftovers, I am thankful for the feast we had yesterday, but even more excited about the one to come. And that makes the letdown of December 26th far more bearable.

Waiting on a New Day

When Daniel was in seminary I would often look longingly at the future and say to myself "when he graduates, then we will have a normal married life." Now that seminary is over, and life is still as busy as ever, I find myself saying "when he is full time at the church, then we will have a normal married life." In my mind, a normal married life is defined as free evenings and weekends and a good dose of quality time together. In my worst moments, I have complete meltdowns that this will never happen and our marriage is doomed to failure because we are missing the quality time all the marriage books say is necessary for a healthy marriage. In my best moments, I still long for a better season, one where we can blissfully enjoy our time together without the pressures of life squeezing in around us.

But as I've reflected recently about our 3 1/2 years together, I have started to think that maybe my dream of endless evenings on the couch and weekend outings is a little far fetched. Maybe my perspective is a little askew. I've talked on this blog before about my tendency to make rest my savior, and the unrealistic expectations I brought to this marriage. In the past few months I have started to think that my constant looking towards the future (while good sometimes) is only feeding my appetite for rest and comfort being my ultimate savior.

When I got married I thought (and hoped) we would work our 9 to 5 jobs and then have the rest of our time to play. Seminary was the wrench in that plan. But after seminary I thought surely life would be more free. And while it is different, it's still busy. My husband is a bi-vocational pastor, and his second vocation requires him to travel nearly every week. Couple that with church responsibilities and we are a busy bunch. And now we are about to throw two precious boys into this mix. As time has gone on I've begun to think that this life we live is not necessarily the "new normal", but the normal we were intended to experience all along.

Married couples need quality time, don't get me wrong. But the reality is, for myself especially, that my initial expectation of quality time could hardly be defined as sustainable over the long haul. And I imagine that's the case for many of my friends as well. Husbands work hard outside of the home, sometimes at multiple jobs or for crazy, long hours. Wives work, too. If there are children, both parents might work outside of the home or the mom might work hard in the home. In nearly every case, among my dearest friends and family, life is just straight-up busy, and not for unrealistic reasons. Life is hard. And it costs money. On top of that, as Christians, we are called to work hard in this life. And while we find our ultimate rest in Christ, we still live in a fallen world that makes even the most joyous endeavors (marriage and family) fall short of what we hope for and what God intended. The fact that my husband and I don't spend as much time together as we like, or even sleep in the same bed for seven consecutive nights, is a reminder that his world is not all there is. But it's also a reminder that a better world is coming.

So what are we to do if our expectations for quality time are not met? If your husband travels frequently, soak up the times he is home. If you have 4 kids under the age of 6 and you can't remember the last time you had quality anything, take advantage of the little moments you have for rest and time together. If you are in school, hold on for the breaks and holidays. If your husband is a bi-vocational pastor, be thankful for the time he does have when he is not working to provide for his family or preparing to provide spiritually for his sheep. It's hard, I know. But just because your life looks different than you thought it would, or the way our culture portrays it should be, doesn't mean your marriage is failing. Like I said, a new and better day is coming. Until then, I'm praying I can be thankful for the one God has given me right now. And I'll be the first to admit, it's not always easy to do. But by his grace I hope that my response this year is better than the last.

Friday is for Fotos: Twins Update!

 

 

Yesterday we had another ultrasound and visit with my high risk doctor. Ultrasound visits are my favorite. While I love hearing their heartbeats at my other doctor's office, there is nothing like seeing them moving right before my eyes. The boys don't usually cooperate to get good profile shots for their ultrasounds. This week was no different. They are just so busy they don't have time for photographs!

 

Here is a rundown on their pictures:

• Luke is in the picture on the top right. He is still measuring smaller than his brother, but he doubled in weight from the last visit a little over three weeks ago. The doctor still assures us that this is completely normal since he is trending well. He weighs in at approximately 14 ounces! He is the least interested in having his picture taken. He just likes to hang out and move around.
• Zach is in the picture on the bottom right. He is a little more camera happy. He also is a mover and a shaker. When my other doctor listened to his heartbeat on Monday he could hear him moving before he could even find his heartbeat. He was like "I know he is in there, he is just moving around so much!" He is going to be a busy little guy. He weighs in at a whole pound and 2 ounces!
• Their two heads are in the top right picture. It's the only picture we can get of the two of them together anymore. They are too big for one picture now. I guess they will just have to wait until they are born!
• Zach's face is the bottom right picture. It's hard to tell what he looks like because it's so fuzzy, but it is just such a precious picture to me. This is my boy's face and I love it already. Luke wouldn't let us take a face picture. He likes to turn away when those ones are taken!

All in all everything is going well. I feel pretty good now. And besides the fact that I am getting bigger by the minute, my discomfort level isn't too bad. I can feel them move every day, and I must say that this is my hands down favorite part of being pregnant. It overwhelms me to feel these little boys moving around. Daniel felt them move for the first time a few days ago and his reaction was priceless. We just love them so much already.

 

As I reflect on the fact that I have made it this far with these boys I am again brought to my knees in thankfulness to our great God. Every moment with them is a gift and we cannot wait to meet them!