If you’ve been following my twitter stream of my facebook page you probably saw that Asa is sick. Oh. It’s so yucky. He is now on DAY THREE of a fever. The first day also included some vomit all over Lydia’s floor. (Still smells like throw up in her room.) Last night his temperature was at 104 for about  eight hours. Poor little guy was a limp rag and just whimpered most of the night.

This morning he is much better but his temperature is hovering at about 100. I just hope he wakes up tomorrow at 98.6 so he can go to church on Sunday! I was going to work at the Good Friday service tonight at church but just can’t do it with Asa being so sick (and clingy and whiny and needy).

Thanks to everyone who was praying and leaving me sweet tweets and messages. Especially Janna for the medicine advice!

So, today I’ve spent my time hovering over his crib as he slept (on his back with his hands entertwined in his hair) and trying to clean up the kitchen with a kid on my hip. Thankfully, my sister-in-law picked up Lydia and took her to Monkey Joe’s with the rest of her kids. She had so much fun and it made the house much quieter for a few hours!

This morning as Asa sat in my lap, I read several kids’ Bible story books to him and Lydia. We read all the stories about Jesus’ death and resurrection. I haven’t linked to Impress Your Kids (my crafty parenting blog) in awhile but I’d love for you to check out what we’ve been doing this Easter season. Today is a significant day and the true meaning of Easter is SO HUGE that it is oftentimes glossed over for kids. I’m trying to be purposeful AND age-appropriate this year. Let me know what you think!

OK. I’ve got to get back to my hot little guy. I hope you have a wonderful weekend celebrating Jesus’ LIFE with your family!

“But this is how God will rescue the whole world. My life will break and God’s broken world will mend. My heart will tear apart–and your hearts will heal. Just as the passover lamb died, so now I will die instead of you. My blood will wash away all of your sins. and you’ll be clean on the inside–in your hearts.”

~based on Jesus’ speech during the Last Supper in Mark 14 and John 13-14; Jesus in The Jesus Storybook Bibleby Sally Lloyd Jones

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All week I’ve had a tab open to the new (in)courage blog. I love the idea of this new community—a group of women bloggers who write to encourage other women in their relationship with God. The description from the front page gives me a yummy sisterchick-feeling inside: it’s like a “beach house–you can put your sandy dirty feet on the coffee table, help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge, laugh late into the night with friends and hear God’s voice more clearly than perhaps anywhere else“. Isn’t that just cozy? I love it.

To kick off their new blog, (in)courage is inviting everyone to share what encourages them. It’s funny because this week I was planning on re-publishing some of my favorite posts–things I wrote that show when I heard God’s voice clearly and saw Him move in real ways. It encourages me to hear stories of God’s interaction in the lives of real people. So, here is my first story; my miracle. Be (in)couraged…

I’m sharing this story with trepidation. I have met so many moms who have had miscarriages or moms who are afraid to announce they are pregnant for fear of miscarriage. I don’t want my story to sound self-serving or prideful. This story only affirms my utter dependence upon God, my Father.

(get comfy, this is long!)

When I found out I was pregnant, I was beyond excited. We had purposely waited for 7 years to get pregnant and it was just the perfect time in our life. At my first ob appointment (about 8 weeks pregnant) my parents were in town and we all loaded up to see the doctor and see that little baby heartbeat on the ultrasound.

I just remember being nervous–a surreal fluttery nervousness. I laid on the table with my family circled around me, the tech rubbed that yucky (freezing) jelly on my abdomen and then began to look for our baby. She kept moving it around saying things like, “Hmm….where is that thing? Gosh, you sure are skinny!” Finally, she shooed my family out and did a vaginal ultrasound (gag!). When we were alone in that room and she was looking for my little baby, I got the first inkling…no rush of protectiveness for my unborn child. Finally, the tech said, “I see the sac, but no heartbeat.” I think my stomach, my heart and my mind dropped. She called my family back in and showed them the ultrasound, everyone was just silent. I don’t remember making my way back to the ob/gyn doctor, but somehow she told me that I needed to come back for the next two days to check my horomone levels, then on that 2nd day do an ultrasound, just in case. If my levels weren’t up to where they should and/or they didn’t hear a heartbeat, then they would do a D&C. She told me not to eat breakfast on that day, in case I had to have “surgery”. Meaning, in case we have to scrape your baby out of your body.

I remember we went straight to lunch after that at Jason’s Deli. It was May, so it was warm and we sat outside. I felt like I was fragile. Or like I was made of something fragile. My body just felt different. When you know that you could potentially have a dead body inside of you, and that dead body could be your very own baby, it’s surreal. The four of us talked about the possibility of miscarriage, but we tried to be hopeful that my horomone levels would go back up.

The next day I had a wedding rehearsal dinner for our favorite people in the world, the Lombards. We call them our psuedo-family. When we pulled into the parking lot, the nurse called and said my hormone levels had gone up a tiny bit but not enough to show I was pregnant. It was horrible to be at such a celebration and be thinking about death. I was scheduled for a ultrasound 7:30 the next morning. She told me again to not eat breakfast in case of the D&C.

I just remembered, I was the “wedding coordinator” for the wedding. Really, I just kept the family walking in at the right time! Anyway, after the rehearsal, the amazing dinner and an amazing time of encouraging and sharing dreams and prayers for the new couple, the whole Lombard family (all 8 of them!) stood outside in the parking lot and prayed for our baby. Having them with us, strengthened our faith.

Before we went home, we remembered we had a list of scriptures about healing at our office. We decided to read every single one of those scriptures over our baby that night. I remember I was laying on the bed and Les was standing in the bathroom when I started reading out loud. The second scripture was Exodus 23:25-26, “ Worship the LORD your God, and his blessing will be on your food and water. I will take away sickness from among you, and none will miscarry or be barren in your land. I will give you a full life span. ” That phrase “none will miscarry” leaped off the page into my heart! I knew that’s what God was promising us–none will miscarry! I read the rest of the scriptures including Romans 4:19 which talks about 100 year old Abraham believing that his 99 year old wife, Sara would have a baby, “Without weakening in his [Abraham's] faith, he faced the fact that his body was as good as dead—since he was about a hundred years old—and that Sarah’s womb was also dead. Yet he did not waver through unbelief regarding the promise of God, but was strengthened in his faith and gave glory to God, being fully persuaded that God had power to do what he had promised.”

These 2 scriptures together gave me this undeniable faith and assurance that God would keep his promise to me and I would NOT miscarry. That night, I didn’t really sleep; I dreamed prayers. I dreamed those scriptures. I can’t explain it, all I know is that I had my mind set. I was not going to be deterred.

When we got up the next morning, I ate breakfast. I ate it as an act of defiance to the devil, the doctors, the world or whatever it was that would take my baby from me. On the way to the hospital, we were sitting at a red light. One light away from the entrance and I threw up all over the car. My first morning sickness! Again, proof to me that my baby was alive.

When we got into the hospital, the women’s ultrasound office was closed, so we went to the general ultrasound waiting room. We ended up waiting for a full hour. During that time I refused to pick up a magazine or watch television. My husband and I kept our minds focused on God’s promises to us.

Finally they called us in and said, “Did they tell you to drink 32 oz of water?” I almost laughed–32 oz? So, they made me drink 32 oz of water. It was ice water and I got so cold I was shivering. They had to bring me a blanket. Thirty minutes and 3 vomits later, I had all the water in me I was going to get.

At long last they led me into the ultrasound room. It was dark and the tech was so nice. She told me she had a brand new machine and was very glad to use it. Les was standing in the back facing the monitor. She put the instrument inside of me, looked around for less than a minute and then we heard it…the heartbeat. A tear slid down my face and my husband said, “Praise the Lord.” I think we both laughed then. According to the tech’s measurements, our baby was 6 weeks and 6 days old. Our baby was alive! Lydia was born into this world January 5, 2006 at 9:31am…and is right now sleeping like a normal 14 month old in her crib!

A baby’s heart typically starts to beat between 4 & 5 weeks. You can’t really hear it until around 8 weeks, hence the ultrasound at 8 weeks. So, it is possible that Lydia was too young and we couldn’t hear her heartbeat. Or maybe the new machine was better than the woman’s center machine. It doesn’t matter–it was still a miracle. If my appointment had been one day earlier Lydia would have been dead. If the women’s center had been open, Lydia would have been dead.

I personally think Lydia was dead. I believe that when Les and I stood in the authority that God gave us through His Word, the Bible, God brought Lydia back to life. I believe with all my heart that God’s Word is living and active, that it is able to penetrate body and soul, joints and marrow. I believe God’s Word has the power to bring new life.

I hope this wasn’t too weird or freaky for you. If you know me, or stick around my blog for awhile, you’ll know I am absolutely NOT freaky. But I do believe God keeps His promises, even to little old me. And I hope my story encouraged you.

{originally published March 16, 2007}

photo by TuTuWon

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Son of God, Saving Grace

At this hour– all my days

Breathe on me, breathe on me

Morning Star shine Your light

As I walk through this life

God of power, God of might

Breathe on me, breathe on me

Forever You are my reason for living

Merciful Savior unending, breathe on me

When I’m weak You are strong

Your breath in me will be my song

In You, my King, I belong

Breathe on me, breathe on me

Forever You are my reason for living

Merciful Savior unending, breathe on me

Forever You are the God of my story

Write every line for Your glory, breathe on me

Breathe on me, breathe on me

When I am weak, You are strong

Your breath in me will be my song

When I am weak, You are strong

:: :: ::

We sang this song at church today. We got there late and had not been in the service for 30 seconds before I felt an overwhelming sense of…everything: thankfulness, peace, love, comfort and joy. If you are not familiar with the Bible or with God,it sounds odd to desire God to BREATHE on you. I don’t usually want people to breathe on me and I would certainly never ASK someone to do it!

After the song was done I said, “I’m going to blog about this today.” (Addicted much?) Anyway, you know I’ve had a stressful emotional week and through this song God just kinda bandaged all those wounds up today. But as I was thinking what I would write about, I started wondering WHY God breathes? What does that even mean? Why would I ask Him to breathe on me?

So, I looked it up. I found two instances in the Bible where God breathed on someone. The first is in Genesis, the book of beginnings. God breathes into some dirt he fashioned…and when he did Adam, the first man was born. The second place is in the book of John. Jesus has just come back to life and has appeared to his disciples. They are terrified of him, of their situation and are wondering what in the heck is going on. Jesus breathes on them and says, “Receive the Holy Spirit…”

The first time God breathes it was to bring LIFE into Adam’s body. The second time was to bring ETERNAL life and peace and power into the disciples lives. Isn’t that what we want? Life? Peace? Power? Eternity?

Today I didn’t have to ask Him. He breathed on me. Every word of that song was a heart cry for me. He answered me. By breathing on me.

He wants to do the same for you.

Lyrics by Todd Fields

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We had your dedication service last night and I couldn’t help but ask myself those questions. I know you’re only seven months old and you haven’t even mastered eating baby food yet, but I could see so clearly the day you look back on the pictures from last night. I could see clearly a young man stepping out on his own two feet without his parents to hold his hands or strap him into his car seat.

the man of the hour

The auditorium at church was set up like  party—cupcakes included! Pictures of the familes played on the big screens at the front. Our whole family came–Grandmama and Papa, Uncle Jason, Nora, Aunt Sheila, Aunt Micah, Aunt Catie, Grammy and Grandpa.

I was holding you as the pastor spoke. You were cooing, grabbing for my earrings and drooling as usual. I tried to memorize your little wriggly body while listening to the pastor remind me that you are a gift from God–given to me and Daddy to help train and ultimately lead back to our Heavenly Father.

It’s such a big job, Asa. I look at you and think about your wife, I think about you being a dad and a husband. I can’t imagine that I will get a hand in training you for those important roles. I think about the day you will stop and recognize Jesus as your Lord and your best friend. Who am I to lead you there?!

baby toes

Soon it was your Daddy’s turn to speak. We got to share with our family five values we are committed to sharing with you. The first—reliance on God, is from your namesake.

Asa, we named you after a great king in the Bible. When he was faced with a battle, he called out to God, “LORD, there is no one like you to help the powerless against the mighty. Help us, O LORD our God, for we rely on you, and in your name we have come against this vast army. O LORD, you are our God; do not let man prevail against you.” This is my prayer for you. That you will fully rely on God. That you will see in battles and in peace, a powerful God moving on your behalf.

me, reading your scripture

The second value is respect-–for others different than you, women, your family and God’s authority in your life. We want you to always put others first.

Next, we want you to walk in confidence. We want you to be confident of the amazing person you are. But not in a self-centered way. We want you to know that you can do all things because Jesus gives you strength.

Our hope is also that you will value church ministry. Your Daddy and I are pastors’ kids. You aren’t going to experience that but we still want you to value ministry. We’ve purposed in our heart to always take the extra step at church–to go to the extra service, be at the special event and give more than is asked. We don’t want church to be just another thing you do—we want it to the central interest of our family.

Finally, is the focus on family. We want our family to be the place that honors, celebrates and values you most of all. We vow to make our family a place that is a constant source of encouragement, strength and rest. We want to model the above values for you so you in turn will see them grow in your life.

our family

After we shared these values with our family, we all got in a circle and prayed. Papa prayed first. But he couldn’t speak right away because tears were in voice and heart. He loves you so much. He prayed that God’s favor would be on you. Then Grandpa prayed. He prayed for special wisdom and understanding in your life. I’m sure you didn’t know what was going on but perhaps you felt the love radiating towards you and for the Lord because you were as happy as I’ve seen you. It was an incredibly intimate and amazing time to hear your grandfathers speak to God on your behalf.

Papa bought you a necklace—it’s a little anchor with a cross on top. At first glance it’s just a nautical charm for our little pirate. But the anchor reminds us of our trust in God and the cross of our future hope. And my prayer is that you will always remain anchored in God’s love and hope for you.

pirate booty

My precious boy, I have to admit that parenting a male is so much scarier to me than a girl. I feel like I’m handling something as delicate as fine china and more precious than gold. I pray God would give me the wisdom to fill you up on the inside and in turn lead you to Jesus, so he can complete your life.

I love you more than I can say. I’m honored and proud to be your mother. And I’m thankful and humbled that I’ve received you as a gift.

love,
Mommy

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I’ve had this post brewing in my head since last Sunday. When I got to church last week, it was already time for Asa to eat. So, I sat in the nursing mother’s room and watched the musical portion of the service. When I finally got into the adult auditorium, our pastor was already speaking. And already there was a hush in the room.

He took us through the book of Mark chapter 15, which tells the story of Jesus’ trial and crucifixion. If you live in the United States you’ve probably heard “Jesus died for you.” or something along those lines. But it’s a phrase that’s easily said and just as easily forgotten if you don’t know the actual story behind it…

Very early in the morning, the chief priests, with the elders, the teachers of the law and the whole Sanhedrin, reached a decision. They bound Jesus, led him away and handed him over to Pilate.”Are you the king of the Jews?” asked Pilate. “Yes, it is as you say,” Jesus replied. The chief priests accused him of many things. So again Pilate asked him, “Aren’t you going to answer? See how many things they are accusing you of.” But Jesus still made no reply, and Pilate was amazed. Now it was the custom at the Feast to release a prisoner whom the people requested. A man called Barabbas was in prison with the insurrectionists who had committed murder in the uprising. The crowd came up and asked Pilate to do for them what he usually did. “Do you want me to release to you the king of the Jews?” asked Pilate, knowing it was out of envy that the chief priests had handed Jesus over to him. But the chief priests stirred up the crowd to have Pilate release Barabbas instead. “What shall I do, then, with the one you call the king of the Jews?” Pilate asked them. “Crucify him!” they shouted. “Why? What crime has he committed?” asked Pilate.  But they shouted all the louder, “Crucify him!” Wanting to satisfy the crowd, Pilate released Barabbas to them.

I always wonder about Pilate in this story. He was Rome’s agent. I’m pretty sure he was a bad dude. Yet, he doesn’t seem to like the Chief Priests. In fact, he recognizes the only reason they are trying to kill Jesus is because they are jealous of him. Pilate tries everything to save Jesus. But the crowd won’t have it. The chief priests won’t have it. And if you’ll notice, neither will Jesus. He wasn’t pleading for his life. He wasn’t trying to talk Pilate into letting him live. He was so quiet that Pilate was shocked.

He had Jesus flogged, and handed him over to be crucified.The soldiers led Jesus away into the palace (that is, the Praetorium) and called together the whole company of soldiers. They put a purple robe on him, then twisted together a crown of thorns and set it on him. And they began to call out to him, “Hail, king of the Jews!” Again and again they struck him on the head with a staff and spit on him. Falling on their knees, they paid homage to him. And when they had mocked him, they took off the purple robe and put his own clothes on him.

Rome had to be a scary place to live. People were flogged and killed in public forums. Roman soldiers were more frightening than any boogeyman. When they flogged someone, it was with whips laced with bone and glass and metal. They whipped until the brink of death. The whips wrapping around the torso, the legs, the arms and yanking out bits of flesh. These soldiers continued the torture with mocking and jeers.

Then they led him out to crucify him…They brought Jesus to the place called Golgotha (which means The Place of the Skull). Then they offered him wine mixed with myrrh, but he did not take it. And they crucified him.

They. Crucified. Him. How final. How chilling. It must have been disgusting work crucifying someone. Did the soldier’s look in the victim’s faces? Was the crowd cheering with each cry of pain? Was anyone standing up for human rights back then?

The cross was a despicable way to die. The victims were nailed to the cross bar with giant nails—similar to railroad spikes—in between the two bones in the arm. If that was all that had been done, it would have been enough. Unable to lift yourself up, you would suffocate in a minute. It would be similar to hanging oneself.

But Rome apparently knew this, so they nailed the victim’s feet to the cross so they could push themselves up to heave a breath in. Heave a breath out. Imagine pushing yourself up on a nail in your foot—the nerves that would be shooting in pain. Imagine your tattered back sliding up and down on the rough cross. It would take hours and sometimes even a full day for the victim to die.

At the end of the day, the soldiers would walk by and break the legs of the victim, so they would suffocate. When they came to Jesus, he was already dead. Not because he had gone into shock. Not because his flogging or crucifixion was any worse, but because He GAVE up His life.

In a letter to the Philippians, Paul writes that Jesus humbled himself and became OBEDIENT to death on a cross. Jesus LET himself die. He wasn’t forced into it. Many men died on the cross, but Jesus CHOSE to die on the cross.

Many rebels had stirred up Rome’s anger. And they had all paid the price. But what of your rebellion? Of mine? I will never have to pay for it. I have rebelled against God. Against His plans for me. I have rebelled against His love. And still, Jesus chose to die in my place. Jesus chose to take my rebellion like it was His own. Jesus was seeing my face, my sin, my life as he breathed in and out on the cross.

At some point in your life, you’ll have to decide what to do about Jesus. What to do about the cross. The cross is a symbol of death. It’s the historical equivalent to an electric chair. Yet we romanticize and decorate with it. Why? Because of Jesus. The significance of the cross is not the horrid, morbid way of death—the significance of the cross is that JESUS chose to die upon it.

This Good Friday, I pray you see the cross. As it was intended–a picture of suffering and shame.

Then I pray you see Jesus. As He intended it—with arms outspread, inviting you to accept His gift, His love, His life.

(To hear the original…and much better sermon, click here.)

photo by lk luka

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