Contentment is a baby slumped over your shoulder in sweet slumber.

Happiness is doubling over in laughter over an inside joke between you and your husband.

Joy is knowing you are loved by God, and always will be, even when you go through droughts – when there is no chocolate, no sweet moments with a baby on your shoulder, no laughter with your hubsters. Joy does not pay attention to circumstances, only the solid truth of God’s unconditional love and the ransom Jesus paid for your sins.

First of all, let’s get the facts squared away:

1. Micah is barely a year old. He is 13 months and 3 weeks to be exact.
2. I am still nursing him. As a result, and I know this is not the case for every nursing mom, I have not experienced the return of you know what.
3. Per fact #3, I am not fertile at the moment. Yes, I know I could ovulate ANY SECOND NOW. But it’s more likely I’ll get a red flag first. Ahem.

(Taken at Micah’s Birthday party in April.)

Friend: “When are you planning on having another baby?”
Me: “Uhhh…. it’s complicated?”

The short answer is, I have no plans. “Plans” have no merit here. This is the part where I usually get a raised eyebrow, but let me explain.

“Family Planning” is such a misnomer because anyone who has tried to plan their families will tell you it’s just not in your control. People want you to think it is in your control, but aside from abstinence, there is no 100% guarantee either way.  People get pregnant when they are not trying and many more don’t get pregnant when they want nothing more… I know it’s a cliche to say “all in God’s timing,” but it’s never more true than when you’re talking about making babies. Doing the baby dance: it’s like playing the slot machines. You may hit the jackpot, you may not. Babies are definitely cooler than winning the jackpot. Babies are miracles. Every one of them.

So this non-answer is really the only answer to a question like, “so, when are you two going to have another baby?” because I don’t know. It’s not in my control. As far as I know, I’m not even able to get pregnant right now and I have no idea when my fertility will return. I’m not comfortable giving any kind of time line. It’s just such an awkward question with no obvious answer.  If you ask me this question, I’ll probably give you the polite response rather than the explanation. “Whenever God chooses to bless us!”

Now, if you were to ask me when I WANT to have another baby…

I want more babies. I want many more babies. I would love to get pregnant again, even right now I would. I’ll share a little piece of my heart with you… sometimes when I hear a pregnancy announcement from a friend, many of whom were pregnant with me the first time, I feel a little bit sad. If I am truly honest with myself and you, I am a little bit afraid that my body will take a lot longer to gear up for #2 than I would like. I would love to have all my babies right in a row. What if that didn’t happen? That is what I’m apprehensive about.  What if there was a four year gap between Micah and the next? It’s my dream for him to have a little play buddy. I don’t want there to be a huge gap – I want them to relate to each other the way I relate to my sister. I want. I want. I want. *Sigh*… listen to myself. I’m not asking for advice. I know this is silly logic. I know… I just don’t feel what I know.

This is the part where I preach to myself and hope what is in my head will sink into my heart:

What I really want to want is what God wants. So I’m trying really hard to want that. To be content. I’m trying really hard to tell my maternal clock to SHUT UP ALREADY and let me enjoy #1 without worrying about #2. I want to congratulate my friends and leave it at that – I don’t want the thought, “I want to be pregnant, too” to cross my mind. I mean, why? Look at fact #1 up there – Micah’s barely one year old. It’s still early to be pregnant again, technically. If I was pregnant right now, people would be saying, “wow, so how far apart will they be?” Seriously.

Holy cannoli,  I just realized what the real issue is here.

More than anything, my pride wants the freedom of choice – of planning. I want to be ABLE to sell my house. I want to be ABLE to get pregnant. Even if I don’t want those things to happen right now, I just want to know that they could happen. I’m acting like my toddler. He just learned the word “no.” He walked around the house today saying, “no no no no” just because he could. He wasn’t even objecting to anything, but I think he liked the sound of the word rolling off his tongue. Saying “no” or even “yes” means you have power. It means you have a choice. Autonomy. Independence. Freedom. Toddlers relish  in the ability to reject what they don’t want (and sometimes what they do want, just because they can). Here I am, whining because I want the same thing: Choice. In this case, I don’t have any more power than those meaningless “no’s” he’s throwing around. God is seriously humbling me right now.

Lord, show me how to be content. Remove this ugly jealousy and pride from my heart. In the meantime, tell people to refrain from asking me when I’m going to have another child. Or, tell them to read my blog first. They don’t realize how complicated the answer is for me, but I know you understand me perfectly, and you love me SO MUCH anyway. I love you, too.  Amen.

The author was talking about the secret to true humility, which is the secret to true worship.

Just after reading that one quote, I’m itching to get my hands on that book and read it. One reason being I know I have a big problem with humility. I don’t naturally embrace the ordinary in myself – I chase after the opposite. I have a desire to elevate myself above others by showing off or hiding my flaws and oddities… this is not a good thing nor something I am proud of! It’s a desire I want to get rid of. In fact, all too often I find myself mentally scolding, “Kim, the only reason you want to share that story is to draw attention to yourself, so don’t share it.” I could go on and on about how it stems from an old desire for popularity in the face of blah blah blah. It doesn’t matter.

So, I want to begin embracing the ordinary in myself – publicly on this blog – in an effort to humiliate myself…. er… become humble. (Isn’t that the same thing to some extent?) Am I going to regret this? Haha. Maybe.

I was going to kick off this humbling experience by sharing something…. but my son is KNOCKING on his door, which means he woke up from his nap and it’s time to visit daddy at work for lunch.

Until next time… embrace your ordinariness! (And if you do so on your blog, send me the link and I will share it here.)

Shout for joy to God, all the earth;
sing the glory of his name;
give to him glorious praise!
Say to God, “How awesome are your deeds!
So great is your power that your enemies come cringing to you.
All the earth worships you
and sings praises to you;
they sing praises to your name.”

I was only 20 years old at the time. Revival was springing up out of my broken heart like a geyser. It was a pivotal period of time during my life in terms of faith and my enthusiasm was contagious. I led a freshman women’s bible study and the girls in my group hesitated to recite that Psalm to the heavens at first, but soon realized, as I had already, that the Word of God is powerful when spoken aloud. It changes you. Things you desperately wish to believe shake you to the core when whispered, alter your life when joyfully proclaimed. Our thoughts may or may not make it to the depths of our hearts, but the lips send arrows that never miss. For this reason there are some things we’ll never repeat aloud, but for this same reason, worship was never meant to be a silent affair.

Shout for joy to God, all the earth;
sing the glory of his name;
give to him glorious praise!

From Psalm 66

My mission, my reason for spending any time on this blog or in commenting on numerous others, is simply to fill the space with something other than what is contaminating so much of the internet. I long to “bring healing” with my words. Write positive comments when you like something. Flag or delete hurtful words. So many of us are already hurting. We are losing our homes, our jobs and our sons and daughters to conflict. Our families are breaking and our futures look insecure, if not bleak. There is no room for “rash words.”

“Rejoice always!” Other versions of scripture say “be joyful always,” but I think the ESV is a better translation because it really brings out the true meaning of this verse. Joy is often mistaken for happiness. Many people read this verse and say, no one can be happy all of the time, but happiness stems from “happenings,” or circumstances. Joy comes from a deeper understanding of where we stand and who we are in Christ — and the appropriate response is to “rejoice.” It is possible to feel sadness and still rejoice. However, a complaining spirit and joy cannot coexist. To rejoice, that is something we do, not something we feel. Joyful is something we are in terms of identity, it is not an emotion. God is not pulling a Bob Marley here by saying, “don’t worry, be happy.” It’s a command… he is saying, BE joyful. Rejoice ALWAYS. But it’s not just a commandment, in context it is a promise made to us through Jesus Christ. It’s a supernatural gift.  He says, “Rejoice always, pray without ceasing,  give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. ” Where there is a will (of God), there is no other way. In his second letter to the church of Corinth, Paul proclaims, “Not that we are sufficient in ourselves to claim anything as coming from us, but our sufficiency is from God.” Such a commandment no longer feels like a burden, but rather an ax taken to the chains that have been keeping me from living life the way I was intended. He’s offering peace instead of turmoil, joy instead of hopelessness. I’m not going to reject such an offer and fall back into a pattern of disillusionment because that’s what comes naturally to my sinful nature. After all, fallen nature is not a reflection of divine purpose.

This neighborhood needs more neighbors

I couldn’t even ask someone to pay our asking price in light of these recent developments; it wouldn’t be ethical. Our asking price is exactly what we need to walk away and break even. So… for now, at least, we cannot move. The Realtor said it could be several years before the market recovers enough to allow us to sell our home and not lose money on it.

It’s not such a horrible thing to be stuck in a house I love. It’s the location I wish I could change. I would like to live a little closer to my mom and sister so we could get together a little easier. It’s also very hard for us to continue to afford living in this city, because of the taxes, now that I am not working. But, I have not forgotten how much we prayed about buying a house and how it worked out just right to move into this one. Because of this fact I am acutely aware that there are reasons greater than I may understand for why we live where we do, and perhaps we are “landlocked” for a special purpose. I don’t think it is a coincidence that while circumstances are evolving to keep us from moving, God is providing the financial means to help us stay. I have been asking God to bless Eric’s career and he has, just not in ways I anticipated. He has been getting more and more work on the side, fixing computers, and that income has been filling the gap. In addition to that, God has been providing for us through our friends and family, who have generously blessed us with exactly what we needed, when we needed it, and they probably had no idea they were helping us so much. That is how God works! I am continually praising him for his timely provision and favor on our family!

This view more accurately portrays our current weather!

No matter what happens, I believe that God will provide for us. I don’t expect to be exempt from hardship because I am a Christian, but I do know that God will help us get through those hardships. It helps to remember that this life is only temporary. One day, I will be free from this broken, tear-stained world with all of its problems; and I will walk in perfect peace, bliss, and love with Jesus in paradise. Perfect love casts out fear!

1. Steady persistence in a course of action, a purpose, a state, etc., esp. in spite of difficulties, obstacles, or discouragement.
2. Theology. continuance in a state of grace to the end, leading to eternal salvation.
3. A nine-month-old boy learning…. just about anything.

I watched Micah bounce in his Jump-n-Go for about 30 minutes straight and I realized, if I were to merely copy his actions throughout the day, I really don’t think I could physically make it past day three. It’s no wonder he sleeps 15 hours a day (12 at night plus 3 in naps). When he’s not jumping continuously for hours, he’s climbing or crawling until he’s ready to pass out. He sleeps and then it starts all over again. Sometimes I find myself laying on the floor in his nursery, just watching him crawl over my legs, up on the changing table, back down across the room, over my head, up on the crib, back down and over my arm, up to the door, back down… He is in constant motion. Even while he is in my lap nursing, he is fidgeting. He’s either swinging his arms around or trying to crawl around on my lap without breaking suction. (Pretty impressive if you ask me!) Forget Jillian Michaels… I’m just going to start copying my baby and I’ll lose the weight in no time.

It’s a good thing babies are so persistent, otherwise we’d have a lot of people laying around, not walking or feeding themselves. At what point do we start giving up? Is it the first time someone says, “you’ll never get this”? Is it on the 73rd failed attempt? What is the driving force that propels these little legs to keep going all day and how is it lost?

I wish I could bottle that youthful energy and drive and apply it to my spiritual life. In college, I was like Micah. I was so incredibly thirsty for God. I was reading my bible or on my knees every time I got a spare minute and I lived for it. I kept going, without ceasing; with every ounce I pursued the kingdom. I needed to walk with God, and no matter how many times I fell right on my butt, I kept getting right back up and continued on.

And then I left college and I started a job in a different city, away from my family and friends. I didn’t make the effort to plug into my new church at the same level as I had in college.  We ran out of money and I started working as an Assistant Manager at Walgreens and that was the final straw. It wasn’t just the horrible hours or the low morale. It was the culture of the company. No respect for my requests to have Sunday mornings off. No compassion for the injuries I sustained while I worked there. Everyone was always looking behind them for the next person to stab them in the back. Before long, I was so far gone, I started having panic attacks. As I drove to work one morning, I felt my chest tighten and my throat close. My face got numb and I crumbled under a state of absolute fear. I didn’t even realize what was happening. I felt like I was dying. When I finally quit, I came home each night only to realize that I had lost a huge part of my relationship with my husband. It had been so long since we had spent any extended amount of time together that we didn’t even know what to talk about anymore. It felt weird.

It took several months to repair everything.

I can honestly say that my marriage is in the greatest shape it’s ever been, but I have never fully recovered spiritually. I know it’s my own fault, but I can’t even put my finger on what’s wrong. I used to pray with such passion, and now I feel like one of those people who pretend to talk on their cell phone so they don’t feel so alone while they walk through the mall. I get through a paragraph of my bible and suddenly my mind is a million miles away. I sing worship songs at church and I feel like the words are coming out of my mouth, but the meaning is hidden and I’m more focused on whether I’m in tune. (It’s one of the reasons I quit choir.) I feel like I have no focus… no attention span.

When I was in fourth grade, my mom let me wear her necklace to school. I think it was a locket. I was outside playing at recess and I heard the whistle blow. I couldn’t have been farther from the door, so I had to run. As my feet hit the ground, I felt the necklace toss about my neck and I began to worry that it would snap, so I clasped my hand around it as I ran. Only my arms continued to pump, despite my attempts to hold the pendent close to my heart, my arm swung, my hand jerked, the chain broke and the charm was tossed behind me. I desperately searched in the grass around me but the whistle continued to blow. My heart sunk and I ran inside, doubtful I would ever find it again. I didn’t.

Once in a while, everything comes into focus, and for a few brief moments, I am back. I have an intense moment of spiritual clarity. I taste that hunger once again. I feel the warmth of that passion at my finger tips. But just as I begin to tighten my grip around it, it dissolves in the busyness of my mind, drowned in a sea of too much thought. The news, my pregnancy blog, my chores, my baby’s needs, my dinner plans, my bills… all come flooding in and it’s gone. A necklace lost in a grassy field.

Is it because I’m trying to hold onto this thing while I continue to run through the rest of my day, my month, my year? Perhaps I should have taken a moment to stop and put that necklace in my pocket. Maybe I’m not taking enough time to really stop thinking about everything else and focus on my relationship with God, and that is why it is suffering. Whatever I’m doing… it’s not working. It’s not enough. I need to find another way to turn everything else off. It’s easy to turn off the TV, silence my phone and shut down the computer, but how do you silence everything else?

Micah’s about to wake up. Shh…

What am I going to make for dinner tonight? Shh…

Where are we going to get the money for this? Shh…

Dirt.

When all that dirt is embedded in the carpet, depending on what kind you have, it often goes unnoticed. You may not realize how dirty your floor is until you notice the bottom of your sock is collecting hair and filth. While searching under the couch for the remote, you may actually see the dirt while your eyes are just inches away from the pile. If you’ve ever removed a clog from your vaccuum or even emptied the canister, though, you know how dirty your floors were, and it’s a little unnerving.

Even though your dirty carpets may gross you out a little (especially when you look at the photo above), it doesn’t shock anyone. No one is surprised to find dirt in their vaccuum’s canister or bag. As annoyed as we all get when our vaccuum is clogged, we’re not surprised at that either, because pretty much all vaccuums clog. There’s a reason it is so easy to find replacement parts for vaccuums, and there is a reason people so often purchase new vaccuums: it’s generally accepted that vaccuums eventually lose suction and begin to suck. (pun intended.)

I suppose you’re wondering where I’m going with this, and I assure you I do have a point.

You and I, we are upright bagless vaccuums. We are roaming around in a sinful, broken, fallen world full of grime and filth. If we were perfect, like Jesus, we would be able to propel through the dirt and clean it without it compromising our integrity. But we are not, because like the world, we are also all broken. Not one of us is exempt from getting clogs that prevent us from being effective. Every single one of us is spitting grime back out left and right as we maneuver through life. For those of us who are parents, that is heartbreaking because we  realize that our children will not escape untouched. No matter how badly we try to be the perfect mother or father, inevitably we will fail at some point and cause damage in the lives of our children. They will begin to lose suction just like we have. They will also clog. They will also spit their filth back out on others and the painful cycle of sin will continue.

But it doesn’t have to. Not indefinitely.

For those of us with broken vaccuums, Dyson claims to be the savior, parading their ‘no-loss-of-suction’ vaccuums with hefty $500 price tags in front of our smudged noses. But the message of the cross is even better, because Christ himself paid the hefty price.

Only Christ can take us apart, pull out the clogs, clean the filth, replace our broken souls and restore us. Through Christ’s redemption, we are like new. We are effective again and we are able, by his power, to plow through the muck of this world without it compromising our integrity.

Some of you are stuck. You’re looking at the filth you’ve spilled and you’re ashamed. You keep removing the clogs yourself and inevitably, the smoke returns, the suction is lost. But God has a promise for you. He has offered his life for you. He has promised to restore you in his time, permanently. We were never meant to be left in the dark, unable to fulfill our purpose. Christ has come to restore us into right relationship with God, to allow us to fulfill our original purpose, to be free from sin and live as we were intended.

This Christmas, we will celebrate his coming to earth for the first time. He was born, he lived for thirty-three years and he was crucified.  Not one of us could afford the price.  He died because only a perfect man could pay the price for all of us. He came for the broken vaccuums. He is coming back to clean up the dirt.