The Sorting Hat...

It's 6:00 am on Sunday. David has just stumbled into the office asking what in the heck I'm up to--he's adorable when he's like this. We're not much for drinking (although I do like a good glass of wine); I've never seen him drunk or hungover. I imagine it's similar to how he just walked into this room, and it's hilarious. I've sent him back to bed (I am, after all, used to getting up for work at 4:00 am), and now I'm alone with my thoughts...

I have a Facebook friend who makes a lot of Hobbit references. My dad also loves all of those books; sadly, that's a bonding experience we will never have. Try as I may, I just don't like Tolkien (sorry, Dad). However, I love the Harry Potter books/movies. So I will unashamedly make a lot of HP references, and since I am writing this blog, it is clearly my perogative. :)
I love the concept of the Sorting Hat: Something comes along in the midst of your confusion and fear, and tells you EXACTLY where you're supposed to be. Can I get one of those?  'Cause let me tell you, if I had a Sorting Hat, that sucker would NEVER leave my noggin. The Holy Spirit does the same thing, I know--but that whole "audible voice" thing really piques my interest. Hearing the voice of God in the midst of the battlefield can be very hard to do--but you have to hear your General/Captain/Commander-In-Chief, right? It's hard to get quiet when the battle is raging.
But here I am.
Yesterday, we went to my parents' house to do a Sorting of our own. 6 years ago, Hannah's things were sorted out...things that were deemed "special" were kept, as were things that were necessary (the flamingo onesie...a stroller...the nursery decorations)...other things were given away in heaps.
I have no memory of this process, and I don't know why. I don't remember packaging them up, or taking them to the attic. I don't know where things went, or who got what...It never bothered me until yesterday. Mom says it's for the best, but it nags at me--where did my brain go? Going through some of these things was almost like going through a stranger's storage unit. But...going through some of those things was like open-heart surgery (minus the anesthetic). I'm not going to lie or make it sound pretty:
It hurt.
I kept a pretty good stiff, upper lip--after all, Choleric Mom was watching, and she never misses a chance to attempt to counter my sniffles with a reminder that Hannah is in Heaven. That actually makes me mad sometimes--can't you just let me cry, and get it out of my system? Stop trying to give me band-aids--I need to bleed this out! But then I look at it from her perspective--She's seen me cry enough over this.
So I waited until it was just David, me, and the dog...and for a few minutes, let it rip.
This child will be wearing clothes that were not purchased for them. Things were bought for someone else--someone that didn't have the chance to grow up, that I didn't have the chance to raise. I'm not being a brat here--it's not like I can or would, just burn everything and go buy all new. That would be stupid, impractical, and selfish. I have a pretty good sense of reuse/recycle. Even if Hannah would have had the chance to use or wear all of the stuff that I've stored, I'd still be reusing it, so that part makes no difference. It's the heart behind it--We had picked out little things just for her.  Certain toys were given to me at a shower that I never got to go to--for her.
This child will not know that their stuffed monkey was not originally intended for them. I do. Will I think that, every time I see the darn monkey? Of course not. And I think that most of these feelings will fade pretty quickly--after all, it's the first time I've seen monkeys and strollers and Lord-knows-what in 6 years. It was a bit of a shock. I think I'm still processing it all.
Walking through the living room this morning, seeing the bags of stuff that we brought home...I immediately turned around and walked out. I actually think it's the amount of work that will be involved in finding places to put the stuff, than the stuff itself--I don't want to think about the mess we have to work through! :) The nursery is a disaster--it's been extra closet space for the past 5 years, and we have no idea where to begin organizing it. (If I wasn't me, I'd call me for help. But since I am me, my "great organizing solution" is to run, hide, and to try not to think about it. Too bad I don't have a basement!!!:)
I'm okay, really. I"m not going to say I was "super prayed-up" or "filled with faith" to get through this--I think I was in more of a state of "git-er'-done." Regardless of where I was, though, I can say that it felt like there was peace instead of panic in The Sort. We got it done, and now I can finally start a Baby Registry for this little one.
Tomorrow, we make another attempt to find out what we're having. We're having our Anatomy US done, and I will make my first cardiologist's visit for this pregnancy. I hope it's my ONLY cardiologist's visit. Ultrasounds make me terribly nervous--half the time, I'm afraid to look at the screen. My friends at work think I'm crazy for this-but they don't know what I've been through. When you've had so much hope, and so much loss, even when it's irrational you still fear going through it again. You try to counter it with faith, but it sneaks in. I'm thankful there are "blockers" (Quidditch reference!) who stop my fear-sidetracks with a quick word or prayer (David's great at that!). And I don't know if you've ever had an echo done...but they're kinda painful for me. Being "chesty", plus having so much scar tissue from previous surgeries, means that the technician has to push really hard on my chest. Add pregnancy to that, and I'm NOT looking forward to this echo!  Tomorrow I will be poked, prodded, and probably stabbed, all for an end result of what I hope is PERFECT. Mom will be spending the day at the hospital with me, thank God...she may be a good ol' choleric, but I need her.  I think she needs to check on me, too. She won't admit it, but certain things she's said make me realize that she has her own fears with this pregnancy. She is my mom, after all. <3 p="p">I'm nervous about tomorrow...excited...I hope I can come back and tell you more about this baby...
Reusing things that were meant for Hannah means that I can finally put the things that were given or bought with so much love, to good use. It's actually fulfilling a hope, although I had to go through a bit of a dark cloud to figure that out. Seeing this child use the handmade blankets...the nursery decor that my mother lovingly made...even the flamingo onesie (provided this is a girl)...I think it will feel 100% right. It's just taken me a day to put some perspective on it. I'm super-thankful that Mom and David were there to help, and to "block" me from dwelling on the negative.
After a bloody good cry in the car on the way home, David was kind enough to take me for my favorite sno-cone (S&Js, Arnold, MO!!! Wedding Cake with whipped cream--GET ONE!), and we had a good talk. Well, I talked, and he listened. He's getting better at letting me riff for a while, and then putting in his two cents. He's a pretty sharp dude, That Guy I Married. I'm glad he picked me.
The Sort could have gone so much worse...I'm so thankful that it didn't, and that we were smart enough to do it together. We were exhausted after all of it, and my house is a wreck, but it's done. Now I really do feel like I can start preparing for C-Rex. :)
There was peace in the battlefield, peace that I hadn't even remembered to pray for. I think it's more than possible that a Facebook post I did early in the morning may have put out the red flag to my friends and family that we needed prayer, and maybe they delivered? Because it went better than I'd hoped. So if you prayed, thank you. You helped my family stay sane through a tough day!
Like I said online--God is bigger. Hope is brighter. And Life is beautiful...
I'm looking forward to it.

The Mystery Continues...

So much for the "Big Reveal!" 
Ultrasounds are the strangest, coolest, most surreal thing to sit through. Someone's pushing outside of you, looking inside of you, to check something out. I've had so many of them done at this point, that the lack of modesty one endures in the process is moot (I love that word!!!!). I don't even care anymore--probe away! 
These things are even stranger when the thing they're looking at/for, moves around on the screen. It's a bit alien, to be honest...you can't feel them move yet, but there they are!!!  I look forward to these with such a nervous anticipation...if I had fingernails to bite off, they'd be chewed to nubs, I swear! Yesterday was supposed to be when we find out what we're having: boy, or girl? David and I each have our thoughts, but nothing is definite yet. The anticipation is driving my family crazy!! Personally, I just want to get my names figured out. :)
I was super-cranky yesterday...and then the ultrasound started....and there they were...Try as hard as she may, the ultrasound tech could NOT get a determination. Our little Coolio sat with their legs folded, Indian-style (I smacked David--that's YOUR family!), and jumped around like a little Indian jumping bean. It was frustratingly hilarious. I really wanted to know...
But I could have sat their and watched that screen for hours.
Boing...
Boing....
Boing...
Our little peanut (who's actually quite large--8 oz, to be "exact") seems to be a happy little froggy. Long legs, big belly, and a ginormous brain.
Yep--this one takes after me. :)
I don't have any great spiritual point with this blog. I'm just so stinking happy, that I had to take a break just to share it with you. As our baby gets more active, and more defined, the reality of it all sets in more and more, and I feel like I could just explode. To watch him/her bounce around on the screen yesterday...I wish I had a recording to share. The wonder of the creation of God is astounding--how, and why, did He make us that way? We bounce around from the very beginnings--we're a blank slate, ready to absorb the world.
My prayer is that my Indian jumping bean makes his/her way through the world and never loses that joy...that they "boing" through life, bouncing back from every obstacle or deterrent, and press on, determined to revel in the peace and love that God brings us all...my prayer is that David and I teach him/her everything is in His hands--they're the only thing we can never "boing" out of.
So what, if I didn't get my "big reveal" of boy vs. girl?
I think God decided to reveal something else...:)

"Love So High..."

"Your love is so high,
Your love is so wide,
Your love is so deep,
Your love is so long...."

It's one if those worship songs that gets repeated ad infinitum during a service...you find yourself singing along, thinking that you get the point....then you get distracted...then you find yourself mindlessly moving your lips...and then you realize that you've just checked out, and are basically doing Christian karaoke in a group setting. Not. Cool.
I caught myself doing that today, and God knows how many times I've been guilty of it in the past...Worship is so dear to me; it's my love language with God, so when I blow it, it really resonates. God caught my attention back pretty quickly, though, and the words to this song started to hit home.
When we (or, maybe it's just me) sing this song, where's our head at? Are we actually considering physical distances? People do these little hand motions-really?! (I'm too cool for choreography, LOL!!!) Are we really thinking about what those words encompass?
"Your love is so high"
How high are we willing to go, to test the limits? Are we willing to drop the baggage, and let Him take us to the secret places? Or do we trust Him so little that we'd rather be weighed down?
"Your love is so wide."
We stretch out our arms...because that's as far as we can think. "As far as the East is from the West..." I'm directionally-dysfunctional, but even I know that East never meets up with West. That's the grace of God. It's so endless...we can't comprehend it. I get angry, I hold on to things. I stay mad....I recently recalled an upsetting conversation that happened in November, and was surprised to realize that my anger is still palpable. I'm still mad. My love, evidentally, is not very Jesus-like...it's pretty thin. I need to learn how to have wide love. :)
"Your love is so deep."
This is the phrase that God stopped me on: "So deep". We think of metaphors like "deep like a river," or "deep like a well." He challenged me this morning--"How deep do you think I can go?" We think of depth as being something that's 3-dimensional.....we're wrong. Specifically, I'm wrong. God's love transcends space and time. I'm kind of a closet sci-fi geek, so time-travel things really pique my interest. He caught me on this one, when He asked me if I believed that His love was deep enough to untangle the past. Is it deep enough to undo the hurt? Is it deep enough to restore faith, deep enough to cast Light in the shadowy places? Deep enough to love me when I face the failures, the doubt, the anger? Is His love deep enough to wash it all away and heal the rawness underneath?
Do I trust in that Unfailing Love? Can I let Him in?
I've had to face some real ugliness this year, & it's only just begun. I find myself blocking off the love of God, of wanting it so desperately, but of thinking that I'm too disgusting for Him to give it to me. I hang on to phrases like "He delights in me" because I want Him to so badly, but I know that I'm not good enough for it. I know that this is an attack, and that I've struggled with this for decades. I know that He loves me, but I get in my own way so often-I don't trust that His love is deep enough to dive into. I consign myself to a shallow limitation.
So...in essence, I tell God that He can't handle me.
Wow.
We all limit His love in our own ways. How deep do you see His love? Deep enough to fix you? Or deep enough to take you down to dirt and clay, to create something entirely new?
Finally, "Your love is so long."
To go back to the space-time-sci-fi thingy, we can't consider that this is a measurable distance. If the depth of the Father's love corrects and renews the brokenness of the past, then surely the length of His love protects and saves the future! I can't see what is to come. I have my hopes and my heart's desires, but no knowledge. What I have, is trust. Although I struggle with my present state, and my past mistakes, one thing that I am sound on is believing that He has the future prepared. I get impatient...I want things now. But I believe that I have to trust in His timing more than anything else, and so I will wait. I trust Him. I trust in the length of His love....
The height: the chance to be free and soar
The width: the chance to be fully embraced
The depth: the chance to be renewed
The length: the chance to be secure

Strange, how a simple verse or chorus can blow your mind, when God gets a hold of it...