Perspective

5:00 a.m. -- Noah begins to stir. I groan.
5:30 a.m. -- Mark showers, I get Noah.
6:00 a.m. -- Noah snuggles on my lap.
6:30 a.m. -- I shower and rush to get ready.
7:25 a.m. -- I kiss Mark and Noah and head to work.
7:30 a.m. - 3:30 p.m. -- Work.
3:30 p.m. - 5:00p.m. -- Pick up Noah and play with him.
5:00 p.m. - 6:00 p.m. -- Dinner and bath for Noah
6:00 p.m. - 8:00 p.m. -- Read to Noah and play with him.
8:00 p.m. -- Eat dinner
8:30 p.m. -- Crawl into bed with house a mess.
8:45 p.m. -- Noah wakes up screaming.
9:10 p.m. -- Try to lay Noah down, he continues screaming.
9:45 p.m. -- Finally get Noah in his crib...asleep.
9:45 p.m. -- Go to bed for a second time.
11:45 p.m. -- Noah wakes up screaming. Up until 1:30 trying to get him back to bed.
1:30 a.m. -- Climb back into bed and discuss Noah's sleep pattern with Mark.
2:00 a.m. -- Last time I see on the clock.
5:00 a.m. -- Repeat.

This is, and has been, our schedule for the last four weeks or so. We don't know why Noah won't sleep. We are exhausted. We have skipped church so Noah can nap...and we can too. We have bags under our bags. We forget the sentence we just started. We are crying out to God for rest for Noah...for us.

Then, perspective. I picked Noah up from daycare on Monday. The news. A three month old baby in the care of another had died from SIDS that day. I did not know the parents, it didn't matter. I dropped to my knees and wept. Something deep within me wept for that precious baby, for those parents who were weeping, for the woman we know who gently placed that sweet baby down for a simply nap only to return to stillness that wasn't right.

I sat holding Noah last night for two hours. I will never complain about getting to hold my precious little one late in the wee hours again. How the mother must long to feel her baby in her arms again. The emptiness she must feel.

Please pray for the family. For the sitter.

A Moment Like This...

Numb. That is how I feel.

I saw it coming. I screamed, knowing the outcome.

There was simply nothing I could do to stop it.

Today Noah, for the first time, was thrilled to play in his walker. We put on this shoes and ventured outside. The sun was shining, Dixie was dancing around. It was a scene right out of Norman Rockwell.

Until it happened.

I had come inside early and Mark and Noah followed. The walker and Dixie were still outside. I unchained her and grabbed the walker the only way I could. It wasn't ideal, I was holding on to the removable toy attachment.



We, Dixie, me, and the walker, came in the front door only to be greeted by a smiling Noah on all fours.

That's when it happened. The removable attachment gave way. In a split second my mind realized the next event would happen without me being able to control it at all.

The walker, my son...

The walker fell on Noah's head...his head.

Not his arm.

Not his leg.

My precious baby's head.

He screamed.

And screamed.

I felt numb.

I am still numb.

I came to the internet. I checked a friend's blog...no new post...I was hoping...

I went to a favorite site...Mom and Loving It

Right there...

Life is full of frustrations and challenges. The good news - “…his compassions never fail. They are new every morning.” Lamentations 3:23

Then, on my iGoogle page, "But he gives us more grace." James 4:6

When human hands and arms can't comfort, I find comfort in those words.

Noah is doing fine.

A goose egg.

A large scrape.

As for me, this mother's heart is still being healed...by the Great I Am.

Why?

I am preparing to teach the Art of Writing to several elementary classes. As I began preparing, I started asking myself the question, "Why?"

Why do I write a blog rarely visited by anyone?

Why do I spend time editing it?

Rethinking?

Rereading?

Brainstorming?


Perhaps it is because I had someone tell me that those were the steps to proper writing. Perhaps it is because I will never let go of the Journalism degree that hangs in my office. Then I realized that it is for all of those reasons and more.

I realized that I write it for me and that writing is part of who I am. Without following some formalized writing my thoughts would be confusing. There would be thoughts without completion, without understanding.

I thought about deleting my blog. Giving up. After all, if I am the audience and I am the writer, why bother?

My sister-in-law once said, "Your blog is like your journal, only you let everyone read it." Everyone, by the way, can be counted on one hand.

How true it is. When I need to express my thoughts I come here.

One day I want to print those entries I wrote while I was pregnant and just after I had Noah. I want him to have them as a memory of me when I am one day not able to tell him how deeply I loved him before he was born.

Maybe this blog is part of my legacy; how I want others to remember me.

So, students of Kingsville, I write, not because I have to, but because I want to. While you have to compose paragraphs on paper, I compose here. On this blog. My challenge to you is for you to find your voice. Leave your legacy. I can't wait to be part of your journey.

For my friends and family who do read my blog...thanks...it is nice to know I have an audience, but I realize now that I will always have an audience. An audience of One. He knows why I write. Why I need to write. Why I only write when I feel called. So, hang in there with me. I will update my posts...eventually!

Cable Guy

This year Mark was blessed with tenure and a promotion. While the Board of Regents voted to approve in February the benefits did not come until July...what a wait!

So, to celebrate this event we upgraded to a DVR!



I can't say enough about it...I have already taped Project Runway and Shear Genius and watched both...commercial free...pausing to take care of Noah...and Dixie.



What makes this most memorable is Noah. He is beginning to recognize people...and longs to be held by them. So...the cable guy looked like my brother...who just visited. Noah cried and fussed...reaching for the cable guy! So much so that I had to leave the room with him.



Poor Noah, missed his Uncle Larry already! I hate to see daycare drop-offs for Mark in two weeks!

How I Spent My Summer Vacation

This summer Mark and I chose to stay home. To relax. To gather ourselves after beginning such an amazing new chapter in our lives. With these plans came wonderful visits from family.

My parents came.



Mark's family came.



My brother came.


Helen will be here in two weeks.

My house has been filled with laughter and noise.

I am blessed...I have had a great summer.

Has It Been That Long?

I can't believe it has been months since I've typed here. It's not that nothing has happened, it's that everything happened at once.

I went back to work.

Noah had an ear infection.

Followed by a cold.

He stopped sleeping through the night.

My mom visited.



Then my grandma came.




My sister couldn't be left out, she came too.



Several young people whom I love graduated.



I moved 10,000 library books.

I'm finally at home.

The Same Place

Where have I been?



The same place I was weeks ago. More than just at home with Noah. I have been in a place of submission. Weeks ago I was reading in James and the Lord brought me to James 1:29. "Be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry."

What did it mean? I have read the verse, I have had it memorized for years. Did it have the same meaning to me today as it did 10 years ago? I wasn't sure why this verse remained with me so strongly, but I knew the Lord must have a purpose for it. Unfortunately, there are examples of both the denial that the verse was for me and acceptance that it was.

The Denial


Then there was the call, you know, the one that should be routine, but isn't. My mom called to tell me she had booked a flight for my grandmother's visit. I had my plans, she had her's. They weren't in alignment. I spoke, not slowly though. I didn't listen to the verse that had been with me weeks before the call. Then it hit me. The verse isn't just about holding your temper. It is about the way we say things. It is about praying before speaking. It is about listening to the needs of someone other than ourselves. I blew it. I apologized to my mother, but it was out there...you know, that something that could have been avoided had I listened to the verse.

Beginning to Understand
After the phone call I began to have similar situations pop up...not with my mom, but with Mark, with friends, with my sister. Rather than saying anything that came to mind, I began asking for revelation.

Have I said I have a wonderful husband? I do. He would do anything for me. Sometimes I have to ask for help, but once he is aware of a need, he always responds in love.

Mark had gone back to work. During the week I am quick to attend to Noah's cries so that Mark can rest and be prepared for the workday ahead of him. Then came the weekends. Mark continued to rest through the night while I continued to take care of Noah's 2:30 a.m. feeding. I was upset. Mark did not know it. I prayed. I waited. I asked the Lord to give me the words to speak to Mark. I asked for patience. I asked for Mark to receive my words in love.

In the end, I talked to Mark, after waiting for the right timing, the right words, and in love. He was gracious. He was apologetic. He was everything I needed him to be.



The entire conversation could have turned out differently had I handled it on my own, without the inspired words from James.

Where am I
I am still in the same place. The Lord has not had me move on. James it is...Chapter 1, Verse 19. How can He have me stay in the same place for so long? Why has He not moved me on? I don't know, but one day I will. One day He will move me on. For now, I stay, still and quiet.