You Get What You Look For

"If you look for the negative, that "A-ha!" that you are hoping to use against one's character, you are sure to find it by simply ignoring the not-so-obvious, albeit well-meaning intentions you seek not so diligently to decipher. But if you look to the Savior, you will find only Love and not accusation. For there is no condemnation with God. It will not be the love of being right or even of having wisdom, but Godly love. Because God is Love."

Anonymous

And this was over at Lots Of Scotts:

"Perhaps everything terrible is, in it's deepest being, something that needs our love."

Ranier Maria Rilke

I needed this today. I think a lot of us do.

DARN IT! This post should have a picture with it!!!

I did a HUMONGOUSLY bonehead thing today and I'm still kickin' myself!!!

After school today, the weather was SO BEAUTIFUL but it hadn't otherwise been a stellar day emotionally. I needed some sunshine. So when the kids got into the car I told them we were going for a snack at a great new place outside of town that's become somewhat of an icon destination. When we arrived, my youngest son's petite classmate was there with her little sister and her father, a man I have prayed for extensively but had yet to meet. He just returned safely from a tour of duty in Iraq. It was wonderful to meet him and finally put together all the faces of this family we've been slowly getting to know.

After introductions and a brief conversation, I returned to my own table mere feet away when I heard giggling. Little R, who I have taught in class as a substitute had written my son's name on the back of her kiddie menu. Justice told me "Mom, I'm about to do something funny, but don't get any weird ideas or think it means anything." (That cracked me up!) Then he drew HER name on his menu. More giggling ensued. The next time I looked up, R had added her own name alongside my son's and drawn a heart around them both. J reciprocated with the same.

I wasn't too sure how Dad was going to like this Kindergarten flirtation, but it was so innocent and absolutely adorable. Then R really shocked me. Her next message read:

"WILL YOU MARE ME?"

I can not possibly do justice to explain how cute she looked peeking around from behind her playful artwork, one big eye blinking in anticipation of a response.

Feeling clueless at missing all this in the past, I asked J when exactly R started feeling this way about him and he answered with completely unbothered swagger "oh, she always tells me that. And she tries to hug me all the time on the playground too!" (feigning disgust through a slight grin.)

I always thought such conversation at that age would FREAK ME OUT. But it was just so very innocent and sweet, the whole way it unfolded. When it came time for R to leave she skipped by our table with a giggle and tossed her menu, complete with picture of the two of them holding hands, at J. He gasped a big open mouth gasp while covering it with his hand, laughing.

I vowed to myself to bring the menus home and eventually scrapbook them, side by side to commemorate my son's first little crush. What a special event.

And then, after a trip to the restroom before checking out, I FORGOT.

Seriously, can you understand the depth of my regret?!!! I went straight from the little girls' room to the checkout, bypassing our table altogether. Of course it didn't dawn on me until I sat with my husband to discuss the day's events once the children were in bed! Can you EVEN UNDERSTAND how mad I am at myself?! Sure I can record it here for memories sake, but I could never ever recreate the adorably cute preciousness of their little crayola love notes! UGH!!! I even called the restaurant begging them to check the trash, but to no avail. (They WERE kind enough to try, but couldn't find it.) UGH!!! UGH!!! UGH!!!

O.K. and since this is my only opportunity to ever remember the entire true version of events, my son also wrote " U R Hot." Which he got from hearing my hubby say. And which I made him scribble out so as not to FREAK OUT this poor girl's dad so early in her growing up years. He did it to be funny and not salacious, but still. I was afraid that may scare father Marine more than any mortar rounds he's encountered overseas. :) I don't want my son being the very FIRST young man he has to tell "watch it!"

Also, R wrote "I wont you to pless love me." And no, this wasn't a sad statement of begging for co-dependent affection. No, I think rather that she was requesting that she be considered in lieu of another certain young girl who J has expressed interest in, with the explanation that she "has a really cool pink OU jersey!" Let me just say, that trumps absolutely all other feminine charms in our home. And these two girls are best of friends. I just love Kindergarten!

My son's first crush recorded in red crayola on the coolest kiddie menu on Route 66. Someone please write me a country song or something to redeem my ridiculous mistake!

You're Gonna Miss This

I heard this song for the first time tonight and instantly loved it. It describes perfectly the feelings I have so much of most of my days.

"You're Gonna Miss This" - Trace Adkins

She was staring out the window of their SUV
Complaning, saying "I can't wait to turn 18
She said "I'll make my own money, and I'll make my own rules"
Mamma put the car in park out there in front of the school
Then she kissed her head and said "I was just like you
You're gonna miss this
You're gonna want this back
You're gonna wish these days hadn't gone by so fast
These are some good times
So take a good look around
You may not know it now
But you're gonna miss this"
Before she knows it she's a brand new bride
In a one-bedroom apartment, and her daddy stops by
He tells her "It's a nice place"
She says "It'll do for now"
Starts talking about babies and buying a house
Daddy shakes his head and says
"Baby, just slow down"
Cause you're gonna miss this
You're gonna want this back
You're gonna wish these days hadn't gone by so fast
These are some good times
So take a good look around
You may not know it now
But you're gonna miss this
Five years later there's a plumber workin' on the water heater
Dog's barkin', phone's ringin'
One kid's cryin', one kid's screamin'
And she keeps apologizin'
He says "They don't bother me.
I've got 2 babies of my own.
One's 36, one's 23.
Huh, it's hard to believe, but...
You're gonna miss this
You're gonna want this back
You're gonna wish these days hadn't gone by so fast
These are some good times
So take a good look around
You may not know it nowBut you're gonna miss this"

Blessed Number 13

As I sit here without the words coming to me like they usually do, all I can think is that I am contented to be your wife. Thirteen years ago to the day since taking that title, I am spending a low-key, overcast day at home. Our three kids are at school, you are sick at work (sorry!) and I am glad that we are together. Not just that we share a last name, but finally we share a good and growing understanding of one other. It feels so ......warm. I'm sorry for the way our life together started. I'm sorry for the way those beginnings became bad habits that lingered for so much longer than we ever dreamed. I'm sorry that we were two immature kids trying to handle extremely grown up problems right from the get-go, even if that was our lot and out of our control. I do still wish it could have been different. But despite it all, we've also made it so much longer than either of us ever bothered with anyone else before we met - before you scrawled your number in my Bible so I wouldn't lose it a fourth time and I gave you that little garage sale hedgehog "To Cement Our Friendship."

Remember the night we both realized things were moving in a different direction? We had to sit in your black truck for about three hours for the hail to subside so we could run to my apartment? And EVERYONE remembers the four inches of downpour on our Wedding Day. (It's become church Legend, hasn't it?) April always has been our month for storms. So, I suppose today's weather is fitting. It's overcast, like our lives have been, with various trials to turn our plans soggy (especially in April!) But it's not raining! The clouds are slowly clearing. And you know what else? It's not cold like most of the previous years. It's warm outside for the first 4/22 in a long time.

Thirteen YEARS! Neither of us seems old enough. I'm still too adventurous and you're still too strong and handsome to be nearing having teenagers of our own! Together we've been through far too much to need the highly romanticized view of happiness as a couple. (Though I appreciate you learning to indulge me SOME. :) ) I like what we have better. I like that you kiss me in the morning and say "I love you" when my face is unmade and completely blemished and convince me that even then you really, truly mean it. I love that you trust me to tell me what I don't want to hear and realize that when I whine about it, it's not because I'm trying to change your mind, but because you are the person I feel most comfortable venting to. I am even learning to appreciate how you often refer to weight gain in terms of "we," because I've always longed for "we" over "you and I." And weight gain is not so bad when it results from the many meals we've shared together since our bachelor/ette days.

I also love how this rambling will make sense to so few, but to you it will. Or at least you will pretend it does. You're a good man!

After thirteen years together, THIS is the VERY BEST ONE ever. (I can't wait for this weekend!)

Happy Anniversary!

I love you, Babe.

Role Reversal

Saturday my husband made plans for us to cook out with our neighbors at the fire pit that the men built where all our yards meet. It has become a real source of bonding and relaxation that began out of a need to burn all the twigs that fell during last year's ice storm. Several of our neighbors are bilingual and I get a lot of fun practice with my eight years of grade school Spanish that had all but left me.


Especially last weekend, when friends of one of the neighbors came to visit and ended up playing all day with my kids. It was particularly joyous because my children had each spent the morning wishing for their regular friends, none of whom were home. So this woman's four children and my three had a wonderful time enjoying the typical activities of Springtime. They played basketball and picked flowers and played in the construction dirt piles and strolled baby dolls down the street and rode bikes - for the first time - EVER.


I couldn't believe it as I heard the children excitedly celebrate getting to ride my children's bicycles! They range in age from 4 to 11. Two boys and two little girls. Mostly well behaved. (Typical kids spending an entire day together.) The camp fire they were VERY familiar with though.

Then there was another hint. One of the little girls, age 7, came inside to "do her business," and my oldest son and I could BARELY CONTAIN our laughter when she sang AT THE TIPPY-TOP OF HER LUNGS for FIFTEEN STRAIGHT minutes on the commode! IT. WAS. HILARIOUS! So adorable! About the third verse of "It's A Small World" I realized that she was stalling so long (no pun intended) because she was impressed with the echo in the bathroom. I don't think she often hears the acoustics of a tiled room.


When the sweet young lady left the room, I went in to check that the toilet had been flushed and the seat put down and I discovered that she had put all of her toilet paper, covered in "stuff" into the trash can rather than the toilet. My immediate reaction of "OH, Stuff-That-The-Toilet-Paper-Was-Covered-In!" was immediately replaced by this humbling thought. "They must not have a flushing toilet at home.......and they have never ridden bikes. And they know all about cooking over an open flame." Putting two and two together I realized that they were probably VERY very financially poor. (Our neighbors later confirmed this as true.)


Later when they left to go home, my daughter approached me to tattle that my youngest son had given away his Leapster to them. He had just received it a couple of months before Christmas and was given several new games as Christmas presents. I chided him for giving away such an expensive toy without asking. Then I was humbled again. Here my six year old had seen a need, a desperate need, and fulfilled it. He didn't ask my husband or I if we would replace his game if he gave it away. He didn't stop to interview the kids about whether they would take good care of the game if he made such a sacrifice. He just perceived a need for kindness and did it. I felt so shamed for telling him he needed to ask my permission. He did just what we teach him, but somehow I missed recognizing it in the moment. I went back and apologized and assured him he did EXACTLY the right thing and made sure to tell him that Jesus was proud of him and I was too.


Then I fell to my knees and asked forgiveness for needing the example rather than giving it.

Mathew Chapter 25

35For I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in:

36Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me.

37Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink?

38When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee?

39Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee?

40And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.

Let no man despise thy youth; but be thou an example of the believers, in word, in conversation, in charity, in spirit, in faith, in purity. I Timothy 4:12

The Mystery Of The Green Leafy Butterfly

Lately I've been thinking a lot about serving God, how more often great things happen when I am simply open to the opportunities presented without warning as opposed to being proactive to work on God's behalf. Don't get me wrong; I believe there is a place for both, but sometimes it seems that the truly miraculous just shows forth with more force when I have absolutely no idea that it is coming -when I'm not busy TRYING to "make it happen."


Today I found the most amazing butterfly I have ever seen on a post outside of the kids' school. It was huge! I'd guess the wing span to be about 6-7 inches across and the wings looked JUST EXACTLY like an oak leaf. They were green, with raised veins just like a tree leaf and in the same pattern. The insect itself was rather menacing only because of it's size and my particular wimpiness, so I extracted it from the post by pressing it's wings together between my forefingers, assuming it to be dead. After all, the wind was blowing roughly 40 miles/hour and the poor thing's wings were flapping violently in the direction of each breeze as it came.


But to my amazement, when I picked the bug up without it making any attempt at flight, it's little legs began to "bicycle" furiously. I was SO EXCITED. Why? Because my son's homeroom teacher is also the science teacher for fifth grade and she's a wonderful woman and she EATS THIS KIND OF STUFF UP! (with excitement, not LITERALLY, of course.)


I walked back into the school knowing my friend at the front desk would be equally squeamish as myself when I showed the bug to her. She was. But she was also excited and her eyes lit up AFTER she stepped back a ways. "That is the most unusual butterfly I have ever seen...... YES!" she said. "Go ahead and go upstairs and just knock on the door before you go in because they ARE in class and give it to her. Usually it's not good to interrupt the morning routine, but in this case I think it's perfect." Then she turned to the two teachers standing in the office. "Oh, I think this is just what she needs." The math teacher explained that the English the teacher had just announced her pregnancy, and that Mrs. R. was hurting all over again because she has struggled for several years trying to have a child. Half of the fifth grade teachers are currently expecting, and except for Mrs. R., the rest are mothers and fathers already.

As I type this I ache for her. The way she is as a teacher proves what a wonderful mother she will make and I am going to pray for her so often now that I know. I did see her briefly in the hallway on the way up to her room. She had left to come wipe her eyes because she had been crying, so I didn't keep her. I don't know what that butterfly will represent specifically to her, but I am praying that God will use something about it that she probably knows that I don't to send her a message of His love while she waits to fill her own cocoon. Something only she as the Science teacher knows about it's green leafy nature as opposed to a more brilliantly colored butterfly.



And once again I am humbled that God allows me to be blessed even as he blesses another, just by allowing me to be an instrument that I didn't seek to be. Just by letting me be His hands and feet without even realizing that I was. I loved to be bearer of that which made her smile and turned off her tears if only for a moment.

About A Sweetheart

I can't remember exactly when or how we became friends. In fact, my earliest memories of her are when I first began attending, at age 23, the church that she was born into, yet one of the first I had ever even been in. She was a few years younger, not many, but enough to separate our live's paths. My husband and I (just starting to date) were the ONLY people in "College & Career," and she was finishing up high school, the only child of a single mother who has taught Sunday School to all three of my children.

I remember she seemed a lot different from me. I was more athletic; she was (and still is!) very petite. She is a gifted singer, arguably the best in our church; I'm fairly sure that musical notes are named after letters, though I'm not sure which ones. She endured a sometimes hard upbringing, though amongst much extended family. My life was more Beaver Cleaver, but I had only my immediate family in close proximity.

I remember her getting married and giving birth. Her daughter endured an emergency entry into this world followed by a precarious few weeks. And I prayed for them because they were a part of my church family, though I still didn't REALLY know her that well. She was much better friends with my sister-in-law, though they have now mostly lost touch.

But somewhere along the lines, we became really great friends. We have done the whole swap kids, drop-hints-to-the-other's-hubby, go on group vacations, slumber party at each other's houses and at camp kinds of things by now. And though this year has brought more learning curves than time together to hang out, we can now always pick up wherever we left off the last time.

As I said, she is a really great friend.

Friday, I discovered just how great.

My son had a TERRIBLE week! The kind that saddens you as a parent to realize that your child is getting old enough to endure the kinds of hurts that you can no longer alleviate. The kind that you can't just distract him from by pointing out all of the completely unrelated good in his life. The kind that we ALL must eventually go through in life in order to grow, but boy does it stink!

Yeah, that kind.

A few days prior, Dalton had come home waving a piece of paper he had received only minutes earlier at the end of his school day. It was a permission slip to a field trip and I haven't seen him so excited about something pertaining to school in quite some time. (For some reason this year seems to be dragging for all of us and my kiddos are just ready for the Summer break!) ALL HE HAD BEEN TALKING ABOUT FOR DAYS was this field trip. And he had a special request - that I chaperon. At 11 years old, requests like that aren't as frequent as they used to be, what with exercising his independence and all. So I didn't even think about it. I may have to clear something else on my calendar, but I was going.

Or so I thought. The past few weeks have been excruciatingly full of so many of the kinds of things I'd rather not be dealing with, but have to. And so I forgot to return my paperwork. My friend in the school office filled it out for me over the phone and covered my money until I could pay her back on Monday, but I NEGLECTED TO REMEMBER TO TELL HER TO CHECK ME AS A CHAPERON. It was my fault. And because the nature of the field trip involved having reservations, it couldn't be changed.

UGH!!!!

I explained everything to Dalton and he was so mature in his understanding, but all that morning, I just didn't feel right. He's such a great kid that he ALWAYS IS understanding, so much so that he probably gets taken advantage of too much. He's always the one who doesn't get the candy when there aren't enough to go around because he will go without and not complain. So I'm very conscious that I don't want to always assume that he's O.K with things, just because he will force himself to be. There are times when you let your children suffer disappointment that can not be helped because you realize it must be God's way of helping them to mature. Then there are times as a Mom when you just KNOW that you need to move Heaven and Earth to come through! So I called the field trip venue to see about showing up on my own. I wouldn't be able to be seated in the same section as the school group, but they were able to get me the closest table near to them. The only problem was the excursion involved lunch. Though I would be close enough to be seen by my son for him to know I made the effort, I would not be close enough for interactional fellowship. I would have to eat alone, but I REALLY didn't want to. (I will eat alone with a book, but I didn't want to be submerged in anything that distracted me from my son and being attuned to his reactions to our unconventional setup.)

So I called Melissa. Twenty minutes before the field trip was to start. At work - at a job that she JUST started. After a decade of staying at home with her kids.

This job became necessary because of the many things going on in her family right now that have turned their lives upside down from resembling anything that it was mere months ago. Health problems, which led to financial problems, which led to family issues.

But she came. And I could scarcely keep from crying when she walked in. When my son saw me there at the field trip, his eyes said it all. I will never forget the look of appreciation on his gorgeous, tanned, freckled face. I'm pretty sure I had the same look when she showed up. With all that she has going on in her life, she didn't hesitate to come LITERALLY the minute I needed her, and helped me to turn my precious son's week around.

Thank you, Melissa. You're an awesome friend!

For Blogger Friends New And Old

I want to say THANK YOU for all of the incredibly encouraging comments I have received over the past couple of weeks for the Miracle Girl series, especially from new commenters! Please know that I very much look forward to visiting your blogs when time permits to also learn a little bit about you, especially those who have so tenderly shared their own hearts on this issue.

For those of you on my blogroll, sorry I haven't been by so many of your sites in so long! I've been more busy living life than recording or reading about it. Hopefully I can come say HI soon. And also finally finish what I consider the very best part of Our Miracle Girl Story!

And now......some laughs for Miss Carnation......I think she's right. This blog needs a break from all the teary stuff!


Daddy And Daughter Differences

Written 3/26

Recently we cancelled our satellite dish service and returned to cable. Other than the channels having all different numbers, the kids wouldn't know the difference. Until tonight.
Faith just discovered that Dad has re-gained his favorite programming. "Oh great!" she said, appearing out of the living room and flopping onto the bed where I was folding clothes. "We're not going to see much of Dad from now on! He found the channel where the guys just talk about parking lots and trees!" (City council meetings.)


Maturity Can't Be Got COMPLETELY From Book Learnin'!

Written 3/26

We recently purchased for my older two kids these really neat books that has them both reading more than ever. My son's is called "The Dangerous Book For Boys" and is a big red encyclopedia of sorts on how to be the boy of yesteryear, or more importantly, an eventual "man's man" of tomorrow. It includes all sorts of important topics, from how skip stones to building the perfect tree fort. It even devotes a page to explaining why girls aren't quite so impressed as your buddies with your wind-breaking skills - and why that's O.K.

My daughter's book is a shining teal color and has a big silver title scrawled across the top: "The Daring Book For Girls." From lemonade stands to different styles of hair braiding to rules for proper party etiquette, it's the girl's version of how to grow into a proper adventurous young person. Very fun and except for a couple of pages on slumber party games where spirits are summoned (that I have removed), acceptably appropriate.

This morning, Dalton picked up Faith's book to have a peek. She promptly ripped it from his hands with an admonition: "For Girls Only! See? It says it right here on the cover!" (Hee hee, I love it!)

But teasing, I reminded her, "Well, YOU looked at the boy's book yesterday and it says 'No Girls Allowed!"

"That's right!" My son felt vindicated. "You can't see mine either! So ha-ha, ha-ha, ha-HA!" he sang.

I was already laughing hysterically at their good-natured exchange when Faith took a huge bite of toast, then without considering the irony, squinted her eyes and retorted with a mouth full of food to her OLDER brother, "Oh, grow up!"

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!!!! Oh, That cracked me up!

Sleepy Genes

Written 3/27

We stayed a little late last night at church, enjoying the awesome Spring air and the company of a young friend we hadn't seen in quite some time. This meant that despite my daily forewarnings this week that "we are going to leave church early and go to bed early to catch up on sleep!" we only went to bed even later than usual. This morning the kids were neither eager nor easy to get up!

My youngest moaned dramatically, "Uuuuuuuuugh! I think we need to have a sleeping contest!"

"Believe me, Buddy," I retorted, "if we HAD such a luxury, you wouldn't be winning it because I could stand to sleep a whole lot longer than you would put up with!"

He thought it over a minute and then concurred. "Yeah......and that doesn't really make sense because YOU don't even have to go to school!"

Ahem.

INTEGRITY

Last night is the first time I can ever remember my husband having to fight any tears. I have seen him face the awful, lingering death of his brother and the sudden, dramatic death of his father. I've seen him so concerned that work may not pick up in time to pay our bills. I've heard him worry openly about certain kids in our youth group in their dangerous waywardness. In each case he was sullen and solemn, maybe even a bit agitated, but he has never been one to waste any time throwing his hands up or yelling "Why?!" As far as I'm aware, he has never cried. He has had all kinds of diverse struggles and disappointments. But I have never once seen his tears. He's not a denier, but a man's man. He is rational. And hardworking. And he is tough. He believes in taking life's sour with the sweet and moving on.

So what brought him last night to near watershed?

It was the integrity of a six year boy.

Last night our youngest son found a toy candy vending machine that had been put up several months ago until he could mature enough to use it within boundaries. We believe that since that time, he has shown the kind of responsibility needed to play with it again and so we returned it to him. I was gone yesterday with my daughter, but when I returned Greg told me how he had played with that machine all day long in total bliss!

Later, several of the neighbor men came over to talk tool-swapping, and Justice went out to sell them some candy from his machine. Only Daddy agreed to buy any. (To their credit, these men were probably too broke to buy candy because our kids and the neighbors made a haul off of them selling lemonade over Spring Break!) J then ran inside to refill, but apparently not before overhearing Greg laughing with the guys that it must still be the original candy in the machine because upon opening it, he found crusty white stuff coating the chocolate. He spoke it in no malice. He wasn't disappointed. It was just the laughter of a dad enjoying the innocence of his happy child with other knowing dads.

He had NO IDEA that J had heard him (though he wasn't trying to even hide his conversation since he thought no wrong had been done) or how it was weighing upon J's heart. I came home and reminded the kids they had to go to bed early; we had special events the next morning and needed extra rest. J knew better than to protest after my rule-setting speech on the way home from church, so he got to his bedtime routine. When Greg went to tuck him in a couple hours after the candy exchange, J was stifling his crying. Before Greg could even ask him what was wrong, he unloaded his burden and the tears he could no longer hold back. "Dad, here." He handed him back his $1. "I can't take your money for something that wasn't any good. I'm SO SORRY!" He was bawling. "I wanted to sell you something worth your money and I didn't know that candy was yucky so you shouldn't have to pay for it."

Speechless. Only a wipe of the wet stuff before he could finally tell me of their conversation.

Greg returned to J's bedroom to bring him into the living room for a few minutes. As he sat between us on the sofa, we told him about the word "INTEGRITY" and how VERY PROUD WE ARE OF HIM FOR CHOOSING IT!!! Then Greg told him that integrity was way more valuable than candy, so we wanted him to keep not only the original dollar, but another one as well.

You know, sometimes the perfect teaching moments don't come before bedtime, or without spending some money you weren't planning on, or with any kind of convenience, but they are ALWAYS worth it. How much sweeter is an honest child than good chocolate!

"The father of the righteous shall greatly rejoice: and he that begetteth a wise child shall have joy of him." -Proverbs 23:24

"They that are of a froward heart are abomination to the LORD: but such as are upright in their way are his delight." -Proverbs 11:20

("Miracle Girl" to wrap up soon! I just had to record this.)

Our Miracle Girl (Part 10)

What rest I got during the night provided me with a refreshed perspective the next morning. And a good dose of humility. I was NOT "ready" to respond when the doctor asked for my decision. But since the Lord had been so specific in providing me with the verse that He did, I realized I could trust Him to give me the right answer in the very moment that I needed it.

When I arrived at the office, there was quite a bit longer wait than was usual. I was so pleased to find that the girl I had met and instantly bonded with at the last month's appointment was once again there on my same schedule. (We eventually became great friends, but have since lost touch again. Our kids are all same ages, same genders.) I was also glad that even with all that time to kill in the waiting area, we never discussed our pregnancies.

Anyone who has been through a miscarriage will tell you that one of the hardest aspects is having to deliver the news to all those happy people who want to congratulate you and not stare awkwardly into your eyes as you tell them that your baby has passed on. There is just no response that doesn't make them feel dumb or guilty when they beam "Hey there! How's that little rug-rat of ours doing?! Is it kicking yet?"

You have to tell them. You can't stand to have them go on cooing and grinning with joy about something that is no longer going to take place, but at the same time, you recognize what an uncomfortable position you put them in, to try to find some words to say when you both know there are none. Thankfully this time, we had learned our lesson. Like so many who experience miscarriage, we too wanted to wait a good while to spread the news the next time. That is why so many even near to us will be realizing for the first time with this story that there was a second occurrence. But for the few who had to stand there fumbling when we broke the news, I sometimes think I felt sorrier for them than they did for me. Not that they didn't have adequate sympathy. It's just that I had this peace that they wouldn't understand (especially in such contrast to my reactions the first time), and they were left trying to discern how to act or what to say.

Finally I was called back and prepped and I really don't remember any of the details until I was seated on the examination table and began, for the first time that morning to once again feel what comes normally to the flesh. I knew my doctor wouldn't do anything without telling me, of course, but this was it. I was already in a physical position that would be necessary if they were to perform the D&C and I wondered how much harder it would be now to go against the doctor's recommendations if the exam told him I needed the procedure. I began praying for God to call back to memory every Scripture verse I had ever learned. I was racing through all of them in half thoughts and "skim" mode.

The female attendant - a different one from the last Friday - was making final adjustments to the ultrasound machine. In one fluid motion the doctor walked to the door to flip the light switch off, then sat down on his swirly stool and slid over toward the equipment. But as he turned his face toward me, he had this look of surprise directed over my right shoulder. The U.S. technician was staring straight ahead at the monitor, looking normal. I don't know why, but honestly the first thing that occurred to me looking back at Dr. S. was that he was seeing a mouse and wasn't sure how to get her attention without bringing it to mine. There was no reason to suspect this. It was a beautiful and extremely clean office, but that's just where my mind went.

Next, Dr. S. started to look up at the screen and down at his chart with rapid transition, like a stock trader trying to keep up with late day exchanges. The technician even seemed puzzled. This whole thing took only about three to five seconds before he began rattling off medical jargon in a request for her input. There was a lot of quiet measurement-taking for another minute or two as the technician calmly concentrated, Dr. S. looked suspiciously interested and I became increasingly worried that all this meant the baby would have to be taken out via C-section.

FINALLY, he spoke to me. The doctor I mean. But then, you could argue it was finally God responding as well.

"Nikki, your baby looks entirely healthy. We're going to come back in a couple of minutes and look for more detailed markers just to make sure, but, there is a very strong heartbeat! And it looks like a lot of growth since Friday. Of course, that's one of the things we'll check because that is not necessarily always a positive thing, (then he explained all this stuff about the heart being much bigger than on Friday, but the body also, which was a huge mystery but good because they were not out of proportion.) But considering everything else, I have no reason to think this is anything other than a very positive developement. The baby's heart is beating and there are no obvious signs of stress. I just want to make sure we check this out thoroughly given the medical history." As he left the room for a moment, he told the oblivious technician that my chart on Friday had been marked as a Spontaneous Abortion.

Less than 90 seconds later, he had returned to my room and they did about a 15-20 minute examination. It was annoyingly quiet. There was only an occasional measurement given between the two or some Latin-sounding name - probably of an obscure internal body part. I wanted to be silent enough for him to concentrate, but I had so many questions racing around my head! I didn't want to even acknowledge what had already been said until I felt that it was "safe" to do so. Several times I had to "will away"a grin I would discover sneaking across my face. It seemed to be taking FOREVER!!!

But the full examination confirmed what I had been slowly realizing. I was witness to a real live physical miracle!

Of course, as it turned out, I never had to SAY anything! The Lord's handiwork spoke louder than my voice or human thoughts!

Could it have been that the machine simply did not work right on Friday? Sure, but still it worked for the women both before and after me. Could it have been that the baby's heart stopped only in those few moments, albeit more than an hour apart, that we were looking at it specifically? Yes, but that would indicate a heart problem, of which Dr. S. could find none now. Could it have been a faulty reading in the first place on Friday? Maybe, but there were multiple people in the room that day who saw the monitor and have experience in reading it and saw no movement at all. And not only that, but had the heartbeat simply been too weak to notice on Friday due to being at too early a stage of development, why was the chart now showing that the fetus was three weeks further in growth than just three days earlier?

No matter how I process it, it was a MIRACLE.

The same miracle that now plays tennis rather aggressively, asks to have her hair braided when she wants to look especially nice for an event, and can speak in an impeccable British accent. This was a miracle that loves cashews, hates green beans and irritates her brothers out of jealousy that she is without (at least an earthly) a sister. She's the miracle that loves to swim as much as her momma, eat spicy hot foods and rider roller coasters with her daddy, prefers one or two great friends to a whole bunch of superficial ones, sneaks candy and forgives easily. It's the miracle that lies in bed at night and says the sweetest prayers.

This is not the end of the story......