Hope Quotes

While preparing my heart for the laparoscopy (from which I really did not expect good results), I listened to a message by Janis Shank entitled "Hope Is a Verb: Biblical Hope" (HT GirlTalk). I highly recommend this outstanding message on the life of Sarah, which offers weapons to battle fear and wisdom to refocus our hope on God's purposes. Janis also littered the message with high-impact quotes. Here are a few favorites:

"To hope means to look forward expectantly for God's future activity. The ground of hope is God's past activity in Jesus Christ, who points the way to God's purposes for his creation." New Dictionary of Theology

"In the case of every child of God, calamity never comes alone; it invariably brings Jesus with it." Octavius Winslow

"Has your wishful hope been converted at the foot of the cross to true hope?" Elisabeth Elliot

My laparoscopy brought Jesus with it. It also brought good news, so that my temptation to fear has been replaced with a temptation to rely on the wishful hope of getting pregnant soon. I want that wish to become reality, but I want to keep my true hope grounded in God's past activity in Jesus Christ.

I Am a Delicate Flower

Recovery has progressed quite well so far. I haven't needed the pain medications at all since the day of the laparoscopy (which seems like such a waste of a powerful prescription!). The shoulder soreness has eased up some, to the point that I hardly needed to apply heat at all yesterday. So I attempted to return to work today. You know, my strenuous job as a church secretary. Which I do from home.

Y'all. (Weakness makes me feel all Southern-belle-like.)

Sitting upright at a desk is taxing stuff.

I worked for a total of three hours, catching up on e-mail and voicemail, and oh, the exhaustion! The achiness! The fresh (though slight and not worrisome) bleeding! I took due notice from my body and returned myself to reclining on the couch. And now I shall take a nap. Work can wait.

The Only Thing Removed from My Body Was a Mole Deep in My Bellybutton

Happy results from the laparoscopy! My tube did not actually have any blockage due to scar tissue or damage or anything like that. It was obstructed because it had actually gotten tucked around my ovary somehow, so it had a kink in it kind of like if you bend a garden hose. So Dr. Owlish (I think I'm going to go with that; it was one vote behind in the poll, but I didn't get to vote, so my vote tips the scales) simply repositioned the tube to its proper place. He said that my uterus and my tubes all look really good, healthy and clear. He took a couple of tissue samples to send to the lab, but he said nothing seemed concerning. In his report to Aaron (which is where all this information comes from), Dr. Owlish said he felt very optimistic for us and thinks a couple of IUIs should "knock this out." We'll get more information at a post-op appointment in a couple weeks, and then we'll know how soon we can begin treatments.

As happy as the final news is, my experience of the day ran along fairly dismal lines, at least to start. I woke up with the beginnings of a bad headache, and I had no defenses against it - no water or anything allowed. It got pretty raging, to the point where it induced nausea (not pleasant when one doesn't have anything at all in one's stomach). All my attention was focused on my body, with little ability left to concentrate on the truth of God's nearness. Once we made it to the hospital and they hooked me up to an IV with liquids, the nausea subsided but the headache (caused by dehydration, I'm sure) remained. It was a tempting way to begin the day of the laparoscopy!

After all the pre-op preparations, I was wheeled back to the operating room. I remember having all sorts of monitors attached to me, having my arms stretched out to my sides, and then... nothing. The next I knew, I heard someone saying my name and telling me to take deep breaths. I think at that point I was being wheeled to the recovery area. My body was shaking uncontrollably; I wasn't cold, but I couldn't stop shivering. The nurse wrapped me with lots of warm blankets and added extra pain medication to my IV. I dozed off some, and the nurse kept checking on me. I think I spent about 30-45 minutes in anesthesia recovery, and then they brought me to a private recovery room where Aaron could join me. That was when I finally got the report on the laparoscopy findings. I felt pretty alert by then, and I was so grateful to hear happy news! My prayers for obviously good results were answered. We are rejoicing and thanking God.

Recovery is going fine so far. The headache was completely gone when I woke up from the anesthesia, so in many ways I felt better after the surgery than before it! My abdomen is a little achy but not bad when I am reclining (and I've got plenty of strong pain medication to take!). My shoulders feel fairly tight and sore, a result of the gas they filled the abdominal cavity with now rising to escape; heat helps, so Aaron is busy running the heat pack back and forth between me and the microwave. The pain medication makes me drowsy, so I'm getting plenty of rest. Most of all, I'm resting in God's favor and hoping for his future blessings.

Tu-be or Not Tu-be

(Sorry, I couldn't think of anything better resist.)

It's laparoscopy eve, not-so-affectionately known as the day when I consume nothing but broth, juice, and sorbet. Oh, and an entire, undiluted bottle of citrate of magnesium later tonight. Blegh. I'm worn out, both from the lack of nourishment and from the business of getting work and home squared away before tomorrow. At this point, a day where I have to do nothing but succumb to anesthesia sounds pretty appealing. If it weren't for the fact that induced subconsciousness is tied to that pesky surgical procedure...

I've devoted serious effort this week to fighting my fears about the laparoscopy. Meditating on Psalm 23, Psalm 27, Isaiah 41, and Isaiah 43 has helped. The fear has subsided some as I rehearse the truth that God made me, and he is with me, holding my right hand, and that he will not let me come to ultimate harm. But I still worry about the potential negative implications of whatever the doctor might find while investigating this blocked fallopian tube. I want the laparoscopy to clear the way for us to conceive, not doom me to infertility that can't be overcome. My prayer is that the results of the laparoscopy would be tangibly beneficial - something I can embrace as good not just by faith but by sight.

I'm feeling awfully tired, so I'll wrap this up. For those who want the details, the laparoscopy is scheduled for noon. I've been told the procedure itself will take one to four hours, and then I'll be kept in the outpatient recovery area for another one to four hours. I should be home tomorrow evening, hopefully with two totally clear fallopian tubes. I don't know when I'll get around to posting an update, but I'll try to do so as soon as I feel up for it. Calls and e-mails are welcome, if you want an update sooner than I post. In the meantime, I am so grateful for all of your support - the prayers, the notes, the calls, the small gifts. I go to the hospital tomorrow knowing that all of you are metaphorically holding my hands, and that is a very comforting thought.

The Benefits of Practicing Spiritual Disciplines

(This is the last part of a talk I recently gave on how I practice the spiritual disciplines; read part one here and part two here.)

Let me say again that I am not trying to convince you that my practice of the spiritual disciplines is the best way. I don’t want anyone to think that God is impressed by the time that I spend reading his Word and praying. He isn’t! I am a justified sinner, and practice of the spiritual disciplines doesn’t alter that one jot. If Christ has redeemed you by his death on the cross, you have his righteousness complete and nothing can add to that – not even reading your Bible for hours on end. Practice of the spiritual disciplines is simply a way to draw near to the foot of the cross and to be refreshed in the grace of God. My particular practice of meditating on Scripture has benefited me in the following ways:

1) My mind is renewed first thing in the morning. Without preaching the gospel to my soul at the beginning of the day, I would live out that day as a functional unbeliever. I might not remember everything I read (in fact, I often have to look it up again when Aaron asks me about my quiet time!), but immersing my heart in God’s truth before I do anything else is a practical way to express my dependence on him and to prevent me from seeking do everything in my own (limited!) strength.

2) I am more likely to recall Scripture. Colossians 3:16 says, “Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly,” and that is just what daily meditation on God’s word does. By soaking my soul in Scripture, I have godly wisdom (rather than human wisdom) in my mind when I or someone else needs encouragement.

3) The Lord’s truth becomes more real than my feelings or circumstances. Sometimes – often even – my circumstances seem to say the exact opposite of God’s promises, and my emotions feel more vivid than the peace purchased for me on the cross. Daily meditation on God’s Word helps me to keep perspective and to affirm that he is sovereign and good and that his gospel is truer than anything I feel or experience.

4) God’s Word provides me with comfort and endurance for trial. Psalm 119 speaks over and over again about the relationship between affliction and delight in God’s Word. Suffering has driven me to the Lord in his Word, and in turn the Lord has sustained me through suffering by his Word. Even the most well-meaning words of comfort from friends often fall short, but meditating on Scripture has provided a balm for my troubled heart and patience to wait on the Lord.

5) Through daily practice of the spiritual disciplines, I find joy in the gospel. In God’s Word, I see over and over again my need for a Savior and God’s provision of a Savior. Over these past few years of devoting myself to meet with the Lord every morning, I have seen my gratitude for his great sacrifice increase.

I could say so much more, but I hope that I have been able to give you a taste of the satisfaction to be found in meeting with the Lord by daily practice of the spiritual disciplines. He has much grace for you, whether you are just starting to seek time with him or seeking to be more consistent in that time or wanting to get more of him out of the practice you already have in place. If you need to, find fellowship, make a plan, and ask God to make you more aware of your need for him. And above all, trust that the Savior will draw you to himself and give you joy, wisdom, and comfort from his gospel. He is faithful and he will do it!

The Habits of My Practice of the Spiritual Disciplines

(This is part two of three of the talk I recently gave about practicing the spiritual disciplines. You can read part one here.)

I share my practice of the spiritual disciplines not as a list of rules or how-to's, but to give you one idea of what a consistent time to meet with God might look like. The principle of meeting with the Lord is the vital thing. Here is how I seek to put that principle into practice. It’s not the only way or the best way, but it has served me and I hope that hearing these particulars might serve you, too.

I usually have some sort of meta-plan – a long term plan for what I will read in God’s Word, how I will devote myself to prayer, and when and where that will happen. I used to think that it was somehow more holy to NOT have a plan, to let the “Spirit” lead me to what passage of Scripture to read. In reality, that just gave my flesh the chance to say, as I stared at the cover of my closed Bible, “I don’t really know what to read today,” and therefore to leave God’s Word unopened. The lack of a plan really resulted in the opposite of a Spirit-led practice of the spiritual disciplines! Having a plan helps to overcome the obstacle of my sinful laziness. Last year, my “meta-plan” was to study God’s character so that I would trust him better. I used Wayne Grudem’s Bible Doctrine and J.I Packer’s Knowing God to guide my Scripture reading to that end. This year, my “meta-plan” involves using D.A. Carson’s For the Love of God; for each day, this book suggests four passages of Scripture (usually 2 Old Testament and 2 New Testament chapters) and then Carson comments on one of those passages. This plan is set up to cover one calendar year, but it will probably take me longer than that. I like to be flexible with my plan, so I often take small breaks to pursue separate mini-plans. Sometimes I will use a morning to listen to a sermon. Sometimes I will use my time to complete a reading assignment for care group or to review notes from a recent message. Sometimes I will take a week or more to focus on putting to death a particular sin or preparing my heart for a foreseeable temptation. Approaching my long-term plan with this kind of flexibility keeps my practice of the spiritual disciplines from becoming legalistic and helps me to treat it as a means of grace that serves my soul.

On a day-to-day basis, I also have a plan for the when, where, and how of my practice of the spiritual disciplines. Though I am still not a morning person (and honestly, I’m not a night person either; I’m really just a sleep person!), I have come to see how much I need to renew my mind at the beginning of each day. In order to make sure that my time with the Lord is not rushed, I wake up with plenty of time before my first obligation of the day, and I do my devotions first. (If I wake up late, or if I run out of time, it is better for me to sacrifice a workout or a shower or nicely-styled hair than my time meditating on God’s Word!) For me, “plenty of time” means waking up between 6 and 6:30 – that gives me three hours before I start work. Within 10-15 minutes of getting out of bed, I sit down at the table with breakfast, a hot drink, my Bible, my journal, and a pen. I learn best by writing things down, so a journal is an invaluable tool to me as I meditate on Scripture. Typically, I read through whatever passages are in my plan for the day; then, I look back through the passage for verses that stood out to me. I write out those verses in my journal, and then I pray through those verses by writing out thoughts addressed to God, asking him to help me apply his words to my life and considering how the passage connects the gospel to my heart. Some mornings I end up meditating on several passages of Scripture and filling up many pages of my journal; some mornings I may only meditate on one passage and write on half a page. When I am finished reading and meditating, I try to spend about 10 minutes praying for others. This is a new practice for me, since the church’s recent prayer series, and it definitely does not come easily to me! (So please ask me, if you think of it, how I am doing in this area.) But again, having a plan is helping me to practice this discipline. I have an index card of verses to pray for Aaron each day. I have the church prayer list, and I pray through one section of that each day (for Sunday celebrations on Monday, for outreach on Tuesday, and so on). And I have begun keeping a small notebook in which I write down particular prayer requests as I hear them (otherwise, I tell someone I will pray for them and then completely forget!). These small tools are helping me to grow in a more outward-focused prayer life, coming before God on behalf of my husband, my church, my friends, and my world.

A Talk About Practicing Spiritual Disciplines

(I had the opportunity on Saturday to give a brief talk to the women of our church about how my practice of the spiritual disciplines has developed. This is the first of three parts.)

God kindly saved me at an early age, but it wasn’t until my late teen years that I started to understand the idea of a daily practice of the spiritual disciplines. I had thought that personal study of the Bible was something that only pastors or “super-spiritual” Christians did. Sure, I had been told (from the pulpit) of the importance of daily “quiet times” – but I didn’t really think the idea applied to regular believers like me. Then I began to learn of friends who sought to practice the spiritual disciplines, to set aside time to read God’s Word and to pray; as I heard about their practices and what they were learning, I began to realize that God means for all Christians to commune with him in these ways. So with a little instruction and a little fellowship, I began.

At first, I set aside time right before bed to read the Bible and to pray. “I’m not a morning person,” I thought, “so I’ll be able to focus better at night.” I kept this up for years, but my practice was very inconsistent. By the end of the day, it was easy to let other things crowd out that time with the Lord (and night-time prayer quickly morphed into sleeping!). When others mentioned the benefits of setting aside time to meet with the Lord in the morning, I inwardly scoffed, “That just wouldn’t work for me. I don’t have to be that legalistic.” But I also felt a tiny prick of conviction, a budding awareness that it was only my pride and self-sufficiency that led me to think I didn’t need to renew my mind with Scripture until the end of my day.

My practice of the spiritual disciplines grew gradually through my late teens and early twenties, but in the Lord’s providence a few things merged together to transform my limping habits. First, marriage to a godly man provided daily fellowship; knowing that, over dinner, Aaron would ask me if I had met with the Lord that morning gave me strong motivation to do so! Second, our church’s teachings on having a plan for reading the Bible and on meditating on Scripture gave me better tools for benefiting from God’s Word. Third, an extremely difficult and ongoing trial made me aware of my desperate, daily need for grace and help from God and his truth. God used these three things – fellowship, planning, and recognition of my need for him - to change my practice of the spiritual disciplines from an occasional five-to-fifteen minutes before bed to a regular 45 minutes to an hour with him almost every morning. Having a more consistent, longer quiet time first thing in the morning doesn’t earn me any points with God; instead, this time is a means of grace to me, an opportunity for me to meet with the Lord as he has revealed himself in his Word, to preach the gospel to my unbelieving heart, and to steep my soul in truths that I need reminders of daily.

A Laparoscopy Is Like the Sun

I've got some preparations to do for next Friday's laparoscopy. I need to have some pre-op bloodwork done. I need to buy broth and jello and non-citrus juices to consume for my required clear liquids diet the day before the surgery. And most importantly, I need to prepare my heart.

Remember the old three trees diagram? Over the past couple of days, I've been working through one to start fighting my fears about the laparoscopy.

1. heat - I am having surgery to investigate my blocked fallopian tube, and the outcome in unknown.

2. bad fruit - I am afraid of the surgery, of what the doctor will find, and of what the long term implication will be for my fertility. I am afraid of having endometriosis or of having my fallopian tube removed or of something else that will make it hard for us to ever conceive.

3. bad root - I want my fertility, and I fear even the little bit I have being taken away from me. I believe that I've already been through enough and that I shouldn't have to face another obstacle. I don't see the surgery as a potential solution but as another pitfall. I believe that I deserve an easy, happy ending to this trial. I believe that I need to have my fertility in order to be satisfied in life. I am doubting that God is with me in these things, thinking that if he really loved me he wouldn't make me go through this procedure now.

4. consequences - I dread this laparoscopy. I imagine worst-case scenarios for the outcome. I resent when others speak of the surgery in an optimistic way. I don't want the medically-best procedure to be done, but I just want whatever preserves an illusion of fertility for me.

5. the cross - The cross tells me that my status as fertile or infertile does not matter much in comparison to my status as a justified sinner inhabited by Christ (and surgery can't change that!). The cross tells me that God is with me always as Immanuel, so I don't need to fear what will happen in the operating room. The cross tells me that God is for me, that he does not put me through needless trial, and that he can work good out of even the most wicked of circumstances. The cross tells me that I actually deserve an unhappy ending and nothing but hardship, but that I have been rescued from that fate by my Savior.

6. good root - I should believe that God loves me, that he is with me, that he is exercising control over this surgery, and that he is not overloading me with trouble. I should believe that God is choosing the best path for me to have children, and if he does not choose to give me children then I will still be satisfied in Christ. I should believe that God will still be good, no matter what the outcome of the laparoscopy. I should desire God's glory above my fertility.

7. good fruit - I should not fear this surgery but trust God and take comfort in his presence with me and his love for me. I should speak more of my confidence in the sure hope of the gospel than of my anxious imaginings of what might be found wrong through the laparoscopy. I should welcome encouragement from others rather than complaining in my heart that those who are optimistic about the surgery just don't understand what I am facing. I should feel glad that this problem with my fallopian tube did not remain undetected but that God sovereignly led to its discovery.

8. consequences - I will have peace and hope, rather than fear, as I anticipate the laparoscopy. I will not cling to the vestiges of my fertility, but I will cling to my steadfast God.

Stopping Off for a Second to Be Super Again

Last night, Aaron and I started watching season one of A Bit of Fry & Laurie on DVD, and it is really striking my funny bone. (And I mean that in a pink and slightly special way.) I found a few clips to share, for your Presidents' Day pleasure.

Sweet Comic Valentine (*NOW WITH 100% MORE DUCK!*)

So all kinds of folks are sharing their Valentine's day or general love stories; I guess I'll toss ours into the pot.

Aaron and I started officially dating on February 3, 2001 (a good story in and of itself), so our first Valentine's day together rolled around pretty early on in our relationship. We met as RA's (resident assistants) in upperclass dorms, and the job required Aaron to be on his floor that night. Thankfully, his floor was open for visitors, so I went to go see him. I don't remember if I gave him anything (surely at least a card?), but his gifts to me were memorable.

First, he gave me a fragrant stargazer lily.

Then, he gave me a pig.

Yes, a pig. But not a live, or even a life-size, pig. He bestowed upon his new sweetheart a little rubber pig. You see, in those days, Aaron constantly carried around a small zoo in his pockets. There's a long backstory involved, but he always had on his person a green boat duck (it was a duck! I just remembered this morning - the boat is part of the backstory, but at the time Aaron carried a duck, a duck that has, to our great detriment, convinced both of our mothers that WE LOVE DUCK STUFF, THERE IS NOTHING WE WOULD RATHER HAVE THAN DUCK ORNAMENTS, TIES, SOCKS, SHOWER CURTAINS!), a white dove, and a tiny pig by the name of Travis Beacon (not Bacon). So as a symbol of our newly pledged affection, I received a matching piglet - May Parker (not Porker). Nothing says "Be my Valentine!" like a porcine figurine!

And after all that, he gave me three sweet kisses. Our first.

May Parker still has a place of honor in my jewelry box.

Doomsday Officially on the Calendar

I've scheduled my laparoscopy. Those four words don't adequately convey the cringing emotion behind them. Those four words mean that I started a new cycle* this past weekend; no miraculous intervention occurred to prevent the need for the laparoscopy. I've asked for faith that God can restore my fertility, but I have to remind myself that he is not bound to do so, that he is able and good even though he has not chosen to heal me at this time. I will have the laparoscopy on February 29. I find myself full of fear - fear of the unknown quantity of the surgery itself (how strange to go under anesthesia not knowing what the result will be when I wake up), fear of what the doctor will find, fear of the long term implications if the fallopian tube gets removed or if endometriosis or something similarly serious is discovered, fear that this laparoscopy will deliver the final blow to my hope of conceiving and giving birth to children. I know my fear reveals that I do not fully place my trust in God's total rule and steadfast love, so between now and the last day of February I plan to do battle against my fear, by God's grace. "For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace" (Rom. 8:6).

*Last month, I charted my cycle for the first time since starting fertility treatments, just to see if anything had changed after all the medicated cycles. It appears that I had a 7 day luteal phase - do you think the HSG (on day 12) could have caused things to go wonky, or what?

Documenting the Years of No Pants

Here I present the evidence for #69 on my 100 things list:

I'll give you three guesses to figure out where we went on this family vacation. I have to say that Mark makes a better Lady Liberty than yours truly. And please appreciate my dad's boredom and/or studied ignorance of our earnest efforts to be statuesque.

Remember the tiny private school I attended (#9 & #10)? The entire student body (not just my class) signed this sweatshirt.

Okay, so my lower half is technically clothed here. But I think the make-up job, well, makes up for it. And Mark really struts his pants-less stuff.

You're welcome.

Meditation on Romans 5

Yesterday I wrote about preaching Romans 4* to myself. In Romans 5:1-5, I found promises of God that I can preach to myself until I am fully convinced that God is able to do them. These are the precious promises of justification, the blessings secured to me by the righteousness imputed to me by Christ. I have peace with God. I have hope in his glory, knowing that he will show himself supremely good no matter what happens. I can rejoice in suffering, even in infertility. God promises me endurance, character, hope, and love. By his Spirit, he has helped me to endure three years of infertility and all its disappointments. I trust that he will give me endurance for as many more years of suffering that lie ahead. He is producing character in me, teaching me to obey him in everything, to know and trust him, to bear fruit even under withering heat. Now I need hope - hope that my future will not be all trouble, hope that hope itself will not shame me. Within the online community of infertility, hope is often portrayed as foolish, weak, silly; the real infertility veterans wear a badge of cynicism, a shield meant to inure us against disappointment. There is a fear - a fear that I feel - that high hopes will make the fall that much harder. If I don't hope that I might be pregnant, that next cycle starting won't hurt so badly and faulty expectations won't leave me feeling foolish. But hope won't put me to shame. God promises! This is where I want to grow right now, in having enough faith to hope that God's glory will be shown in my life, whether through a miraculous pregnancy or through ongoing trust despite deferred hope. Hope will not put me to shame, because I have assurance of God's love, proven on the cross of Christ and shed on my heart by the Holy Spirit. With that assurance, may I not waver or distrust these heavenly promises.


*By the way, click here for someone else's very helpful thoughts on the same verses in Romans 4.

Meditation on Romans 4

Preaching Romans 4:18-25 to myself...

In hope I want to believe against hope. Though I don't have the same specific promise as Abraham (the promise of offspring), I have the same God. All the facts point to a very slim, almost non-existent hope that I will ever conceive. But I want to hope against hope, to hope in God's power and goodness against the odds. I don't want to weaken in faith when I consider my as-good-as-dead reproductive system (at least as it stands now, with this blocked and poisonously-leaky fallopian tube) or the ongoing barrenness of my womb. I don't want to waver in distrust but to grow strong in faith, giving glory to God, fully convinced that he is able to do as he promises. He hasn't necessarily promised me children, but he has promised to work all things for my good. He has secured that promise by sending his only Son to die for my sins, then raising him from the dead and justifying me so that I can receive all the blessings pledged to the righteous.

Dim Shadows and Bright Hope

We live in a gap between God's promises and our reality. God gives us promise and hope, but we live in a world full of trials and disappointments. In this gap between promise and reality, our faith is cultivated. We learn to place our faith entirely in our entirely faithful God. (These words come from a message on Genesis 15 preached at our church two Sundays ago.)

This past Sunday morning, we sang the hymn "Great Is Your Faithfulness." As I sang, my heart (and my eyes) filled to overflowing with the ache of that gap between God's promises and the reality of my infertility.

Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow
Blessings all mine, with ten thousand beside.

I don't always feel like I have the strength necessary for each day - for disappointing diagnoses, for watching other's pregnant bellies grow around me, for waiting and waiting and waiting. And bright hope for tomorrow? All I can foresee in my circumstances is dim trouble - another cycle starting, another friend's baby being born, a surgery in which I may or may not lose one fallopian tube. Blessings all mine? All? What about the blessing of children? I am too often aware of the blessings I lack, rather than the abundance of blessings I have been given in Christ.

All I have needed Thy hand hath provided;
Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me.

There is so much more in my life that I want the Lord to provide - healing, freedom from infertility, pregnancy, children. But he provides all I need. He has given me salvation, pardoned my sins. He does give me strength for each day, grace to navigate the temptations of infertility, even if I barely make it through the rough waters by clinging to him as my life preserver. I do have bright hope - hope of heaven, hope of increasing Christ-likeness, hope of seeing my Savior face to face. I do have every best blessing in Christ. Oh, I don't always feel these things. I shed many tears over the distance between my experience and the truth of God's promises. But...

There is no shadow of turning with Thee.
Thou changest not, Thy compassions they fail not;
As Thou hast been Thou forever wilt be.

My circumstances toss the little boat of my soul around on waves of doubt and distress. My feelings turn me round and round like a whirlpool. My diagnosis, my expectations, change like storms. But God does not change or turn. His compassion won't fail me. The same compassion that moved him to sacrifice his Son on my behalf is extended to me today. He knows how much it hurts to live in the gap between his promises and my reality. So when the heartache seems to swamp me, I ask for new mercy to see the Lord and his word as more real than my circumstances. By faith, I will see more of his faithfulness.

Now We Are Six

Lauren tagged me for this; it was hard to come up with six things that didn't replicate my 100 things list!

Here are the rules of the tag, followed by my answers:

The Rules:
1) Link to the person that tagged you.
2) Post the rules on your blog.
3) Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself.
4) Tag at least three people at the end of your post and link to their blogs.
5) Let each person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
6) Let the fun begin!

1. I have rather particular habits when it comes to the preparation of tea. Hot water (preferably from a kettle, not heated in the microwave) must be poured OVER the tea bag/leaves; filling a cup with water and then adding the tea bag/leaves is absolutely unacceptable. I like the tea to steep for four minutes (I usually drink black tea; for green, white, or red tea the steeping time varies a bit). When the brewing completes, I remove the tea bag, squeezing it out with a spoon to get the last drops of flavor. Sugar, if I want it, must get stirred in before milk or cream, because I have this notion that it won't dissolve as well after the addition of milk. When brewing tea for more than one person, I adore using this teapot of ours.

2. When my husband travels for work (like he is right now), I eat horribly and tend to stay up all hours of the night reading. I'll have things like popcorn for dinner (if I have dinner at all). I can't fall asleep very easily without him beside me, so I try to lull myself to bed with a book - but with no one to ask me to turn the light off, I often just keep reading!

3. I love to cook, but I hate getting my hands dirty. This means I wash my hands between almost every step of a recipe, and I handle food very delicately so as to touch it minimally. Strangely enough, I don't wash my hands much any other time than when I cook.

4. When I drive and listen to the radio, I often use the fingers of one hand to spell in sign language the words that I hear in news reports or in songs. It started as a way to practice the sign alphabet and get quicker at using it, but now it's just a subconscious habit.

5. Apparently, I give unusual pronunciations to the words "both" and "what." I've been told that I say the first "bolth" (which I find somewhat embarrassing, although I can't really hear it when I say it). Someone also pointed out that I enunciate the "w" and the "h" in question words, making "what" into two syllables; I'm not quite sure how I do this.

6. I have a minor passion for paper goods. Stationary, notes, invitations, journals, calendars, recipe cards, paper plates and napkins, etc. - I'm drawn to them and would probably buy a bazillion of them all if I weren't tempered by a streak of practicality that limits me to what I can actually use. Picking out invitations was one of my favorite aspects of wedding planning. Finishing a journal and getting to pick out a new one thrills me.

Let's see, I'll tag In Search of Morning Sickness, who could probably use the distraction while her husband's deployed, and Katie, who may not have time with two under 2 right now, and Jon, a newcomer to the infertility blogging community, and anyone else who hasn't done this already but would like to do so.

Fallopian Tube: 7-14 cm; God: Infinite

The shock of the diagnosis of my blocked fallopian tube has begun to fade. Though my first reaction cried, "Why does this infertility always get worse, never better?," the fog of discouragement is clearing so that I can see that this problem is not, in fact, a fresh trouble. My awareness of it is new, but the blockage has existed all along. Now that we know of it, we can do something about it. And while I desperately don't want to lose the tube and end up with impaired fertility for the rest of my life, I know that our odds of conceiving without the tube are better than any chance of pregnancy with the havoc that the damaged tube currently wreaks on my entire reproductive system. I pray that the doctor can easily repair the tube whatever the cause of the obstruction, but I can accept its removal if the laparoscopy shows that necessity. Brilliant, this willingness to permit what I don't have any ability to change, huh?

But I also try to keep in mind that there is One who can change all of this. Emotionally, that right fallopian tube of mine has swollen to epic proportions - a giant obstacle that will block me and crush me and leave no possible escape. In faith, though, I know that this defective body part is microscopically minuscule in comparison to God's glorious grandeur. He can, if he wills, heal; this is not too big for him. So that is my other prayer right now, that the Spirit will show his power and the Lord would advance his gospel by an act of miraculous healing - that the doctor, and those who follow my story, and even my future children would get a glimpse of God's saving ability through a laparoscopy that shows no blockage, no damage whatsoever. I want to believe that such a thing is possible, and I want to surrender to the Father's will whatever happens. Please pray along those lines with me.

I wrote this last week but delayed posting it due to the drama of the HSG...

Babies born to good friends in the past six weeks: 4

Pregnancies announced by good friends in the past week: 1

Contentment that seems to be withstanding all such pressures: Priceless

Spoiled

Thanks for all the birthday wishes! Aaron spoiled me rotten over the weekend. On Saturday morning, he brought me breakfast in bed (scones and tea, yum!), served on a variety of gifts - a portable picnic table I've had my eye on for a while, some pretty new dishes, a nice cutting board. Then he took me ice skating at Millennium Park in downtown Chicago. Later that night, we went out to a tasty Argentinian restaurant for steak and tapas. On Monday night, we attended the Lyric Opera of Chicago to see Falstaff; I've never been to an opera but have always wanted to go, so this was a real treat! I'm so grateful for my husband and his desire to bless me.

To Lighten Things Up for the Weekend

(Thank you for all of the supportive comments and e-mails after I learned about my blocked tube yesterday; your words reminded me that I am not alone and that I have a good God. I'm still disappointed but not quite so despairing today.)

This morning, Aaron woke up feeling quite chilly. With puzzlement, he realized that he no longer had on the pajamas he had fallen asleep wearing. I solved the mystery for him. You see, Aaron has a propensity to talk in his sleep, and last night, he took it to a new level. Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, I awoke to him jerkily thrashing from side to side. Roused from my slumber, I watched with interest. He suddenly sat bolt upright, ripped his pajamas off, and threw them onto the floor. He laid back down.

"Are you too warm?" I asked him.

No response.

"Are you too warm?" I repeated. "Why did you take your pajamas off?"

"I... I can't explain," he sighed, and buried his head into his pillow. At that point, I knew he had been asleep through the whole display.

He remembers none of it, but we had a good laugh about it this morning!

Toxic

So, here's a brief recap of yesterday's appointment with Dr. Owlish / Einstein / Penmanship (those are the nicknames in the running, because he's kind and smart, wears glasses, attended Albert Einstein University, and has remarkably good handwriting; I'll use all three intermittently in this post, and you can vote in the sidebar poll if you'd like). We suggested the idea of IVF/ICSI with fertilizing 6-8 eggs; Dr. Owlish agreed that it was a reasonable compromise, but he said the success rates that way would be no better than IUI with injectables. He suggested we do a few IUIs before we use up the last two IVF cycles covered by our insurance. We asked about donor embryos; Dr. Einstein said their clinic does do that and it could be a good option for us down the road. I asked about having my progesterone re-tested; Dr. Penmanship offered to just give me a prescription for suppositories just in case we did actually conceive this pre-treatment cycle. We determined to go ahead with an injectable IUI, which meant I would need an HSG.

And that brings us to today. A terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. The HSG that I assumed would be routine was anything but. First, Dr. Owlish was running about an hour late - no big deal, I had brought a book, and I have a flexible schedule since I work from home. Then, the procedure hurt. A lot. I think I have a fairly high pain tolerance, but these cramps took my breath away. (I had taken Advil, but I had done so an hour before my scheduled appointment time.) Worst, the HSG showed blockage in my right tube. Dr. Einstein injected the fluid medium three times (triple the cramping!) and had me shift around a lot (tilting from side to side with a speculum and catheter inside you is far from pleasant) to get a clear view of the obstruction. After it was all done, Dr. Penmanship explained all the X-ray images and laid out the implications of the blocked tube. It certainly explains our infertility and lack of success at treatments; according to Dr. Owlish, the tube has probably filled with toxic fluid that leaks into my uterus and poisons any embryos that make it there. The cause of the blockage is unclear (Dr. Einstein suggested pelvic infection due to STDs, but I explained how that was impossible as I wasn't sexually active until marriage). I will need to have a laparoscopy to determine the extent of the damage; they may just need to remove some scar tissue, but it's possible that the whole tube will have to be taken out. For now, we have instructions to avoid conceiving this cycle, and then when my next cycle begins I'll go on birth control to keep everything quiet for the surgery. IUIs are no longer a viable option for us, but we'll have to wait for the laparoscopy results in order to know what comes next.

Yesterday, I felt so happy with our plan. Today, that plan became untenable. I have been in tears off and on ever since the HSG finished. I am frightened of surgery (and of infection - Dr. Penmanship prescribed antibiotics saying that the fluid from the HSG could cause a "life-threatening" infection in the blocked tube!). I'm tempted to be angry at my previous clinic, that didn't do this test and sent us through a course of wasted treatments as a result. I grieve for the embryos we created that, little did we know, faced a certain death sentence in my toxic womb. I feel a sense of injustice - if, as Dr. Owlish implied, STDs are the main cause of blocked tubes, why do I have a blockage when I abstained until marriage? I'm worried that it will be necessary to remove my tube, thus dooming any future reproductive efforts. I am full of doubt that God could heal me; healing of a hormonal problem seemed so much more realistic that healing of a structural problem. I feel weary; our hope of having children has been deferred AGAIN, and my heart is sick of it.

HSG Tomorrow

Just a quick update - I'm having an HSG done Thursday morning at 10 a.m. It was scheduled at the last minute after a consultation with the new doc today (I'll write more about that tomorrow). I expect everything to be fine, since previous saline sonograms were, but the doctor did say that the HSG is a more painful and invasive procedure. Please pray that all goes well!

Little Faith

One morning last week, as I was meditating on God’s Word, I came to an answer of sorts to my questions about prayer and faith and infertility. I was reading in Matthew 17, which gives an account of an evil spirit that the disciples could not cast out.

Then the disciples came to Jesus privately and said, “Why could we not cast it out?” He said to them, “Because of your little faith. For truly, I say to you, if you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move, and nothing will be impossible for you (v. 19-20).

I had been feeling like I imagine the disciples felt in that moment – sheepish, ashamed, condemned over failures. I was slinking to Jesus furtively, secretly, to ask, “Why can’t I overcome this inability to have children? What is wrong with me that you won’t answer my prayers? Is it my fault that I haven’t gotten pregnant, because I don’t have enough faith?” Because honestly, I often do have doubts that God can or will work against the odds to cause me to conceive. Three years of infertility, three failed IUIs, and two unsuccessful IVFs loom like my own personal and implacable mountains, and my faith falters in their shadow.

As I brought these bewildered questions and struggles before God, my thoughts suddenly took a turn. When I blame myself and my lack of faith for my infertility, I make faith into a legalistic work that earns me the blessing I want. But it’s not so! Faith is a gift that I depend on the Spirit to give. Do I lack faith that the Lord will give me a child? Yes. So what should I do? Lament that my infertility is all my fault? No! I should ask for more faith! And that is just what I am now seeking to do. In fact, I’m putting a pause on my requests for children instead directing my prayers toward the gift of faith – more faith in the gospel, more faith in the good news that Jesus saves and justifies and sanctifies and satisfies, and more faith that God is sovereign and not bound by infertility statistics. And this is one prayer that I have confidence my Lord will delight to answer.

Back in the Stirrups Saddle Again

Aaaaand the fertility treatments break is over. Kind of. I won't be taking any medicines or doing any treatments this cycle, but we'll be getting some preliminary testing (re)done and consulting with the new doctor to decide exactly what we're going to do next. Yesterday morning, I visited my new clinic for a blood draw and baseline ultrasound. According to the results, my estrogen, FSH, and LH are all in tip-top shape, and I've got plenty of antral follicles hovering around in each ovary. Aaron has also had some tests done recently. His initial semen analysis at the new clinic showed some bacteria in the sample, so he took an antibiotic for a bit and then re-tested. The second analysis was clear. His counts and such still look about the same - all within the range of normal, but on the low end. It's encouraging to know that things haven't gotten any worse for either of us, but hey! we're still infertile.

Next Wednesday afternoon, we meet with the doctor to talk more about our options and finalize our choices. To recap, here's what the good doc suggested at our previous consultation: Option 1) Give the okay for embryo freezing and proceed with standard protocol IVF with ICSI. Option 2) If we don't approve embryo freezing, take a step back and do IUI with injectables instead of Clomid. Since we still have convictions against freezing embryos, we hope to persuade the doctor to agree to a compromise, an Option 1a) Do IVF/ICSI, limiting the number of eggs fertilized to 6-8, letting the resulting embryos grow to blastocysts, and transferring all that make it to that point. We'd be fertilizing more eggs than we did in past IVFs, but due to the new information revealed by this doctor (that only 1 out of every 5 eggs is genetically viable), we're okay with that. We'd most likely be transferring back more than the recommended 1-2 embryos, but we're okay with that, too, and ideally the doctor will approve (even if reluctantly). If not, then we'll probably go the IUI route, while looking into new alternatives, like donor embryos or adoption. Please pray for wisdom all around, that my current contentment would withstand the upcoming barrage of tests and appointments, and that God would bless us.

Praying Scripture for My Husband

I have two passages of Scripture written on an index card, stuck in my journal as a bookmark; I use it to guide my prayers for Aaron.

Blessed is everyone who fears the Lord, who walks in his ways! You shall eat the fruit of the labor of your hands; you shall be blessed, and it shall be well with you. Your wife will be like a fruitful vine within your house; your children will be like olive shoots around your table. Behold, thus shall the man be blessed who fears the Lord. The Lord bless you from Zion! May you see the prosperity of Jerusalem all the days of your life! May you see your children's children! Peace be upon Israel! (Psalm 128)

May the Lord direct your hearts to the love of God and to the steadfastness of Christ. (2 Thessalonians 3:5)

As I intercede for my husband, having these verses before me to meditate on keeps my prayers focused and hopefully more effective. I pray daily that Aaron will see the Lord as greater than any temptations in his life. I ask that his efforts - at his job, in his spiritual life, to lead our marriage - will be made fruitful. I request that I can grow as his wife and be a blessing to him, and I ask that the Lord will give us children - and even grandchildren someday! - who will know the Savior. I pray that our church and our service in it will prosper. And above all, I pray that Aaron will know the love and faithfulness of God more deeply, as he grows in understanding the gospel of Christ. Meditating on these two brief passages of God's Word has brought much more consistency and richness to my prayers for my husband!

Plan to Pray

Continuing the Sunday sermon series on prayer, our good friend Josh taught about one practical way to pray by meditating on Scripture. The three basic steps are to read, think, and pray. Using Scripture to inform and shape our prayers helps to keep our minds from wandering, helps us to pray more effectively, and helps us to benefit more from God's word. If you feel like your prayer life is floundering (and mine usually is!), I'd encourage you to listen to Josh's message and come up with a plan to meditate and pray.

Rather than going into all the details of my sermon notes, I thought I'd share my plan for reading Scripture and praying this year. I am using For the Love of God (Vol. 2) to guide me through the Bible. I've used Volume 1 of this set by D. A. Carson before, and I really like the format. Each day gives four passages of Scripture to read and a brief commentary on one of those passages. I take my time reading each chapter (usually two Old Testament and two New Testament), and once I finish reading a chapter I go back through it and write in a journal any verses that stood out to me. Then I write down some thoughts and prayers about how those verses relate to my life - how God is at work and how he calls me to respond to him. For me, writing keeps my prayers focused. Once I've completed all the reading for the day, my goal is to take about ten minutes to pray specifically for my husband and for our church. All told, the whole process lasts about 45 minutes to an hour (accompanied by breakfast and my hot drink of choice!). I hope that this plan bears much fruit and growth in my life and my prayers this year!

Unanswered

For the past several days, I've been working on a post about some of the questions raised in my mind by last Sunday's message on prayer (my notes here), specifically the promises highlighted in John 15:7 and Matthew 21:22. But as I've written and reread and revised ad nauseum, the post has just gotten more and more convoluted. I keep trying to answer my own questions when I haven't really arrived at any solutions yet. So rather than publishing a long-winded and cockamamie collection of half-formed thoughts, I present in humility a list of what I'm wondering:

If God promises that we will receive whatever we ask for in faith, what does it mean that my prayers for children have gone unanswered for so many years?

Does that promise even apply to requests for children?

Are children a material blessing and a common grace (given alike to the righteous and the unrighteous, like the rain and sun) or a spiritual blessing and reward for God's people?

Are my prayers for children unanswered because I lack faith?

Are my prayers for children unanswered because it's not God's will for me to have children, because I'm asking wrongly for something that God doesn't really want me to desire?

If the answers to the previous two questions are no, how do I reconcile my unanswered prayers with God's promises?

Maybe I shouldn't have been making decaf

a comic strip of the first thing I did this morning

Devoted to Prayer

Our church is currently studying prayer. We had a guest speaker, Rick Gamache, last Sunday who spoke from Colossians 4:2. (All that follows is a record of my sermon notes, not my original thinking!) He began with the question, "What is prayer?" Pretty much any person - Christian or otherwise - knows that prayer is asking God for things. Rick offered this definition: Prayer is an expression of our dependence on God through asking him to satisfy the desires of our heart.

One translation of Col. 4:2 reads, "Devote yourselves to prayer." Devotion is an unwavering commitment. Think of what it means to be devoted to a spouse; I don't spend every moment with Aaron, but he is a significant priority, frequently occupying my thoughts and time. Likewise, I should dedicate myself to prayer. In this world, I have to battle to devote myself to prayer. I have to watch against those things that want to crowd prayer out and resist the temptation to think that I am too busy to pray. Spurgeon says that "prayer is a saving of time... for if God has given us time for secondary duties, He must have given us time for primary ones, and to draw near to Him is a primary duty, and we must let nothing set it on one side."

So we are clearly commanded to persist in prayer. But why? First and foremost, we pray because Christ has made a way for us to do so. We cannot take for granted that we, sinfully depraved people, have constant access to the presence of a perfectly holy God, through the merit of another, namely Jesus Christ. The command to devote ourselves to prayer is really a lavishly gracious invitation! The infinitely powerful, wise, loving and good God of the universe calls us to ask him for the good things that he desires to give us as his sons and daughters. We pray, also, because God promises to act when we pray. Spurgeon again: "[W]e believe that, into the ear of the eternal God, we speak our wants, and that His ear is linked with a heart feeling for us, and a hand working on our behalf." There should be a rhythm of desperation and deliverance in our lives as Christians. We ask, God gives help, we get help, and God gets glory.

One practical suggestion is that we intermingle the Word and prayer. John 15:7 records Jesus saying, "If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you." We need to pray our Bibles, not just read them. God's Word produces the faith that we need for answered prayer and transforms us to ask rightly according to God's will. Plan to pray both structured (set time and place to pray through Scripture) and unstructured (spontaneous cries of desperation, thanksgiving, and praise) prayers this year!

Vanities

Dear internet, please make me pretty!

(1) I'm almost out of facial moisturizer, and I'm ready for a change. I've been using Neutrogena products, but they're starting to feel a little harsh to me. I have somewhat sensitive skin, and it's getting drier all the time. I just started using Philosophy's "Hope in a Tube" on my eyes, and I adore it - so I'm considering shelling out the cash for the facial cream. Has anyone used it? Any other recommendations? If I do the Philosophy moisturizer, then I would also need a sunscreen for my face, so please suggest those, too.

(2) I'd like to get a straightening iron for my hair. I wear it naturally wavy/curly most days, but sometimes I want to look a bit more sleek. I've been told to get ceramic plates and not to go super cheap, but I don't want to spend an unreasonable amount of cash. I looked at this in the store, but I really have no idea what I'm doing. Help!

(3) The hair needs...something. It bores me right now. I like the cut, but everything else is dull. Wearing it wavy means I have a constant halo of dry frizz and my natural highlights get obscured in the curls. I've got just about every color except black in my hair - brown, blond, red, and sadly white/grey. I could maybe punch up the red color with a dye? Or get some highlights? Or just get a fancy gloss serum? Or get over it and do nothing. I need the internet to tell me what to do! (Of course, my husband gets the final say.)

How to Make Half a Pumpkin Spice Cake

First, sign up to bring a meal to a couple that just had a baby, but mix up the dates by a week. Rush home to thaw the soup that you cooked and froze previously and to assemble a salad.

Next, disarrange your entire freezer when you remove the soup. For maximum impact, place the plastic bowl of rock-solid soup on the very edge of your counter; that way, it will tip onto the kitchen floor while you wrestle to keep the freezer contents from tumbling out. Now, in your efforts to rearrange the items in the freezer, mimic that same action - the one where you place a bowl of something just a little too close to the edge - using a small glass bowl of leftover pumpkin puree and the freezer shelf. Congratulations! You have conducted a physics experiment that offers TWO educational results: Theorem 1 - The force of gravity has NOT ceased to function. Theorem 2 - Plastic can absorb the energy from an impact with a tile floor, while glass cannot.

Step back and survey the collection on your floor. Pick up the soup, now conveniently loose from its container, and set it to reheat in a pot on the stove. (You will probably need to wash said pot first.) Take the semi-intact jar of pumpkin puree and place it on the counter. Sweep up glass shards.

Check e-mail. Read a note pointing out that you do not, in fact, need to provide a dinner for the new parents tonight. You signed up for next week, you ninny.

Return to the kitchen to turn off the stove and scoop the still-mostly-frozen soup into a resealable bag. Put it back in the freezer; rearrange contents again. Decide to try to redeem the pumpkin puree. Pick it up in the remains of its glass container, then lose your grip and drop it on the floor again. This step ensures that the pumpkin will dislodge from all bits of glass. Rinse off pumpkin, to be sure. Sweep again.

Finally, search for a recipe that requires one (1) cup pumpkin puree. Determine that you have all the ingredients for a pumpkin spice cake, although you will halve it since it calls for a whole can. Call your husband and ask him to pick up cream cheese on the way home from work, for frosting. Eat an extra big slice.

Good Year Glimpse

Happy new year!


A passing conversation between Aaron and me on New Year's Eve:

"Here's hoping 2008 has good things in store for us."

"That would be nice."

"Of course, I guess everything that God has planned for us this year is good."

"Yeah. But we'd really like a year full of obviously good things."


We're launching into year four of infertility. No matter what, it seems like we'll turn some sort of corner this year. Pending results from some tests we're re-doing and another consultation with the new doctor, we'll decide whether to return to doing IUIs or IVF. One way or the other, we should be done with fertility treatments by summer. If a treatment works, I'll finally be pregnant (although I know pregnancy doesn't guarantee a baby). If not, we may start looking into adoption of some sort (embryo, domestic, international). Lord willing, we'll be much closer to having a family by the end of this year.

There are a few other "obviously" good things we'd like to see happen in 2008. We aim to pay off our school loans completely, maybe even in the first quarter of the year (20-ish years short of the loan terms; take that, Sallie Mae!). Ideally, we will look into buying a house when our apartment lease is up this summer. If school debt is paid and we no longer need my health insurance to cover fertility treatments, it might be unnecessary for me to continue working. A lot of potential changes loom on the horizon.

2008. It could be an exciting year. It may be full of obvious good. It will be, in God's loving hands, a good year, whether that is clear to feeble human sight or not.

Cheers!

Family Photo

From the Squalor of a Borrowed Stable

From the squalor of a borrowed stable,
By the Spirit and a virgin’s faith;
To the anguish and the shame of scandal
Came the Saviour of the human race!
But the skies were filled with the praise of heav’n,
Shepherds listen as the angels tell
Of the Gift of God come down to man
At the dawning of Immanuel

King of Heaven now the Friend of sinners,
Humble servant in the Father’s hands,
Filled with power and the Holy Spirit,
Filled with mercy for the broken man.
Yes, He walked my road and he felt my pain,
Joys and sorrows that I know so well;
Yet His righteous steps give me hope again –
I will follow my Immanuel!

Through the kisses of a friend’s betrayal,
He was lifted on a cruel cross;
He was punished for a world’s transgressions,
He was suffering to save the lost.
He fights for breath, He fights for me,
Loosing sinners from the claims of hell;
And with a shout our souls are free –
Death defeated by Immanuel!

Now He’s standing in the place of honour,
Crowned with glory on the highest throne,
Interceding for His own beloved
Till His Father calls to bring them home!
Then the skies will part as the trumpet sounds
Hope of heaven or the fear of hell;
But the Bride will run to her Lover’s arms,
Giving glory to Immanuel!

(Stuart Townend, 1999)

In the Bleak Midwinter

In the bleak mid-winter
Frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron,
Water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow,
Snow on snow,
In the bleak mid-winter
Long ago.

Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him
Nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away
When He comes to reign:
In the bleak mid-winter
A stable-place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty,
Jesus Christ.

Enough for Him, whom cherubim
Worship night and day,
A breastful of milk
And a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him, whom angels
Fall down before,
The ox and ass and camel
Which adore.

Angels and archangels
May have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim
Thronged the air,
But only His mother
In her maiden bliss,
Worshipped the Beloved
With a kiss.

What can I give Him,
Poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd
I would bring a lamb,
If I were a wise man
I would do my part,
Yet what I can I give Him,
Give my heart.

(Christina Rossetti, 1872)

Merry Christmas!

Sing and rejoice, O daughter of Zion, for behold, I come and I will dwell in your midst, declares the Lord. And many nations shall join themselves to the Lord in that day, and shall be my people. And I will dwell in your midst, and you shall know that the Lord of hosts has sent me to you. And the Lord will inherit Judah as his portion in the holy land, and will again choose Jerusalem.

Be silent, all flesh, before the Lord, for he has roused himself from his holy dwelling.

(Zechariah 2:10-13)

The Gift of Gifts

O source of all good,
what shall I render to thee for the gift of gifts,
thine own dear Son, begotten, not created,
my redeemer, proxy, surety, substitute,
his self-emptying incomprehensible,
his infinity of love beyond the heart’s grasp.

Herein is wonder of wonders:
he came below to raise me above,
was born like me that I might become like him.

Herein is love;
when I cannot rise to him
he draws near on wings of grace,
to raise me to himself.

Herein is power;
when Deity and humanity were infinitely apart
he united them in indissoluble unity,
the uncreate and the created.

Herein is wisdom;
when I was undone,
with no will to return to him,
and no intellect to devise recovery,
he came, God-incarnate,
to save me to the uttermost,
as man to die my death,
to shed satisfying blood on my behalf,
to work out a perfect righteousness for me.

O God, take me in spirit to the watchful shepherds,
and enlarge my mind;
let me hear good tidings of great joy,
and hearing, believe, rejoice, praise, adore,
my conscience bathed in an ocean of repose,
my eyes uplifted to a reconciled Father;
place me with ox, ass, camel, goat,
to look with them upon my redeemer’s face
and in him account myself delivered from sin;
let me with Simeon clasp the new-born child to my heart,
embrace him with undying faith,
exulting that he is mine and I am his.

In him thou hast given me so much that heaven can give no more.

(The Valley of Vision)

Molasses Cookies

These molasses cookies have become one of my go-to desserts - easy, tasty, made from basic pantry items. They also make an excellent Christmas baked gift, stacked in pretty round circles, a little crackled, a little sparkly with sugar.

2 cups flour
1 1/2 tsp baking soda
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp nutmeg
1/2 tsp salt
1 1/2 cups sugar
1 1/2 sticks butter, softened
1 egg
1/4 cup molasses

Preheat oven to 350F. Whisk flour, baking soda, cinnamon, nutmeg and salt together. Set aside 1/2 cup sugar in a shallow bowl. With an electric mixer, beat butter and remaining cup sugar until combined. Beat in egg and then molasses, until combined. Reduce speed to low; gradually mix in dry ingredients, just until a dough forms. Pinch off and roll dough into balls, about 1 tbsp each. Roll balls in reserved sugar to coat. Arrange balls on baking sheets, 2-3 inches apart. Bake, one sheet at a time, until edges are just firm, 10-15 min. (If you bake more than one sheet at a time, cookies will not crackle uniformly.) Cool 1 min. on baking sheets, then transfer to a rack to cool completely.

We're leaving for a Christmas visit to Texas tomorrow morning. (Hi, Texans! See you soon!) I've stored up a few Christmas poems, songs, and prayers to post while I'm out of town. I hope you enjoy!

Late(r) in Time

I wrote the words below a year ago today. Add a year to all the time spans mentioned in the first paragraph, and take out the dread of Christmas this season, and much of the sentiment below still rings true.

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In many ways, I've been dreading this Christmas season. Yet another year has come and gone, and I am still not pregnant. I am certainly not celebrating baby's first Christmas. Two years have passed since Aaron and I sat in our car, stuck in a snowstorm on the way to West Virginia, and talked dreamily about how next year we'd probably be a family of three for the holidays. A year has passed since I thought that despite the disappointments of 2005, surely I would at least be pregnant by the end of 2006. I dare not hope for 2007. And not only is Christmas a painful reminder of the children we do not yet have, it is a season focused on the holiness of a birth. We tell and re-tell the amazing story of a virgin who conceived, for goodness' sake. I love the story, believe it with all my heart, but yet there is something about that miracle that can bring a small ache to my infertile soul.

So I dreaded Christmas this year. But God has mercifully given me a new measure of joy, instead of the heartache I anticipated. My circumstances are still difficult, my trial is not over, my temptations still press in. Yet I find myself singing. As we sang "Hark the Herald Angels Sing" in church a couple weeks ago, the Spirit illuminated to me the words, "Late in time behold him come, offspring of a virgin's womb." At first, I felt that pang, but then I really thought about those lyrics. Though he was suddenly and unexpectedly conceived (from a human perspective), Christ's birth was long awaited. A barren world yearned for centuries for the Messiah to come. Thousands lived and died, hoping for the birth of a Savior, trusting God's promise of a Redeemer. Human hearts were sick with sin and deferred hope. Then, oh miraculous act of love, God became man, took on flesh as a tiny infant. Immanuel. God with us. God with us in our deepest suffering. God with us to rescue us from his own wrath against our sin. God with us to give us himself.

This month, every time I think of the anguish of the past couple of years and the anxiety about the upcoming year, I remember. "Late in time behold him come." My years of waiting to conceive are small in comparison to the centuries that the world waited for the Savior to be born. My suffering - though still weighty - is infinitely lighter because I live after that birth, after Christ bore the burden of my sins. I am waiting for a baby, but I am not waiting for a Redeemer. I trust and hope that I will see my child's face one day; I know with certainty that I will see my Lord's face in heaven.

More Advent Links

The post for the third Sunday in Advent is up at Toddled Dredge, reminding us of how God breaks into our routines and our ordinary lives.

At Solo Femininity, Carolyn McCulley captures some helpful thoughts about Christmas expectations from a commentary on the book of Esther.

Enjoy!

A Tale of Three Christmas Parties

Last week, we attended the annual church Christmas party for leaders of ministry teams and care groups. This party has become somewhat of a personal measuring stick for me over the past three years. Up until we started trying to conceive, this gathering was one of my favorite events of the year. We would get together with some of our closest friends to share laughter and memories, and each person would share how they were most encouraged by God's work in the past year. It was a joyous time. I expected things to be much the same in December 2005.

But then one pregnant woman after another arrived at the party. I think about half the group was expecting, and all I wanted to do was run and hide. It was a miserable evening. I took a huge nose-dive into self-pity and stayed there. [As we shared our highlights for the year,] every other couple mentioned the gift of the baby on the way. When it was my turn to share, I said something about our care group, but internally I was thinking, “I have nothing to be encouraged about! God is not blessing me! He has forgotten about me!”

On the way home from the party, Aaron asked how I was doing and I told him truthfully. I was completely overwhelmed. I knew I was sinning in a thousand ways – pride, unbelief, jealousy, self-pity, impatience, lack of contentment, etc. – but I felt absolutely stuck. I felt like the pain of not being able to conceive was leaving me no other options. There was too much pressure, too many temptations, and I didn’t know where to begin to fight against it all. I was ready to throw my hands up in despair (entry from 6.23.2006).

That night became a turning point for me. You see, we had been trying to get pregnant for about a year at that point, and the suffering of a good desire denied had begun to get very intense. As a result of the anguish I felt at that party, I began to fight back against the sin that infertility was beginning to expose in my heart. The fight has lasted much longer than I expected. A year after that night, we returned to another church Christmas party, now with a couple failed IUIs under our belt. The party was populated with babies instead of pregnant women (although I'm sure there were a few of those, too, knowing our church). It was still a challenging evening but by God's grace not nearly as difficult as the year before.

Now here we are in December 2007, at the end of our third unsuccessful year of trying to conceive. With two failed IVFs and with questions about whether we'll be able to attempt IVF again, we are in some ways farther away than ever from the chance of having a child. And yet, I am content. As we sat at this year's Christmas party, I was able to honestly share how encouraged I am at how God has filled me with such gratitude for the gospel that I feel joy and peace even in the face of my still-unfulfilled longing. Yes, being in the company of another cluster of pregnant women - some of the same who had been expecting at the 2005 party - gave me twinges of resignation, but what a change God has wrought in my heart! These Christmas parties mark off the years of my physical barrenness, but they also give me a chance to measure the harvest of spiritual fruit.

Advent Links

Other folks 'round this here internet are getting ready for Christmas, too.

The gals over at GirlTalk are talking about the keys for Christmas joy; the series starts here with the question: "What would make you happy this Christmas?"

That contemplative mom with crackers behind Toddled Dredge is serving up rich Advent meditations. For the first Sunday in Advent, she prescribes the antidote to naive Christmas nostalgia:

We light the prophets’ candle in defiance of nostalgia. The world has not changed so much. The voice that spoke then, still speaks today. The God who loved them also loves us, and offers to change us like streams reversed in their courses, running uphill to Zion, the house of the Lord.

And for the second Sunday of Advent, she reminds us that "we don't get points for being merely Not Horrible." I'm eagerly anticipating Veronica's Advent and Christmas thoughts to come.

Read and be inspired this Advent season!

Anticipating What Has Gone Before

This December, I decided to prepare for Christmas by reading through the daily Advent readings in the Book of Common Prayer. Spending time in Scriptures that prophecy both the birth of the Messiah and the eventual return of Christ has filled me with anticipation. I have been especially impressed by the sense of the bleakness of the world before God sent his only Son to the rescue and, by association, the darkness of my own heart before God saved me. It is a strange and eager feeling, to look forward with longing to the Savior's birth; the event has already happened, and I know the rich truth of its significance, yet for this month I dwell imaginatively in a realm waiting for the breakthrough of the gospel.

Here are some meditations from one passage of Advent reading (I recommend reading the verses from Isaiah first):

Isaiah 1:1-20
Before the coming of the Savior, we were laden with iniquity. We were utterly estranged from God. Though children should know and obey their father, we lived in rebellion and more base than the beasts who know their Creator and follow his natural order. We languished sick in head and heart and body. Our souls were completely unsound and we could apply no remedy. We could make no sacrifice to please God or gain his favor. The blood of sin covered our hands, and we could never wash the stain off. Though God, in his holiness, could not heed our prayers, he still took the initiative to save. We were lost in evil, but he came as a man to make a reasonable way. God said, "Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become like wool." The blood of my sin could only be washed by the blood of Christ crucified. The only white I can claim is the pristine robe of Christ's righteousness.

Three to Six Inches

This morning, I laced up my rugged winter boots and tugged on my soft-green knit cap. I stepped outside and walked toward the nearby pond. At first, I tried to keep to where I guessed the sidewalk to be; but the snow had erased all the lines and bestowed freedom to walk anywhere. Sometimes I made my own path, and sometimes I trod in the footprints of those who had already ventured out in this winterscape. I imagined a father and son, enjoying the snow in the morning before the boy boarded his school bus - the father walking slow, making large, distinct prints, and the son scampering, shuffling, leaving a line of scuffs in snow too high for his small stride. As for myself, I walked in solitude. I saw the last fallen leaves of autumn, indistinct under the layer of snow, as if a bleached cotton curtain draped over them. I saw bright red berries topped with white woolen hats and evergreen fingers boasting chenille gloves. I praised God for giving these cold climes the flora that wear the fashions of winter so well, these buds and branches whose bright complexions are not made sallow by greys and dusty whites surrounding them. I saw traces of life - the perfect pairs of indentations left by rabbits' hind feet, the flock of geese frozen out of their favorite pond, the tracks of a little person running around the yard to the trampoline to jump, jump, jump in the snow. Across the steely sky, church bells chimed nine. Time for work, but taking in this dawn of a new season merits a late start. As I trudge home, toe to toe with my outgoing footprints, a new snowfall flurries and blusters around me. The drivers of the cars passing me may pity the girl who has to walk in the snowstorm, but I... I tasted God's beauty like the snowflakes on my tongue.