quick note about Isaak!

So my joyous moment arrived at last! My incredibly handsome son was born on July seventh, at six thirty in the morning. He was seven pounds, seven ounces. It's funny, but I didn't really think I could experience the kind of joy, love, and protectiveness that I had when I first delivered Emma, a second time... but I did! My son is heart of my heart, and flesh of my flesh. The miracle of birth astounded me yet again. The faithfulness that he possesses astounded me again as well, as I leaned on him throughout Isaak's birth and delivery.

Trust and Peace

It seems that once again, I am waiting for the arrival of the child inside my belly. As the time for him to enter into the world draws near, I find it harder and harder to think about anything else. I have never been a surprise person... and the nine months of anticipation ( all the while growing more and more physically uncomfortable) are difficult for me! It's not like Christmas... I can't unwrap him just to wrap him up again and have no one know the difference!

I don't think I realize how much I struggle with trying to control my circumstances, until I am completely out of control. I have no idea what time, what day, what moment my child will announce with tiny lungs his entrance into the world. I don't know how my labour will begin. I don't know how long it will last. Contrary to the somewhat popular belief by women who have never actually born babies into the world, I don't even know for sure what level of pain relief I will need, if any. I don't know if I will need to go on the drip. I don't know if I will even get my doctor. I don't know how things will go once I have completed the most satisfying task that I could ever ask to complete ( pushed him out). I don't know if he will be jaundice, how well he will nurse, or really anything. All of my plans fail in the sight of his plan; and he simply keeps telling me " Wait on me, my precious child, it will happen in my perfect time." Hmm. Even that brings about nothing but blind trust... because who knows what his "perfect time" is?

All I know is that I can't wait for those first labour pains. I can't wait for the long, intense, painful, and beautiful journey of brand new motherhood once again. I long to hold his tiny body, and nurse him for the first time. I am looking so forward to kissing his perfect face, and calling him by name. My little Isaak Travis.

So... I wait. As I wait, I draw so close to my Jesus, because only his strength could ever sustain me right now. He is the one who can convince me that my swelling belly is beautiful, and that I am beautiful despite swollen ankles, eyes, and fingers. He is so good to me. I love that I get to put my trust in the one person that I know is entirely trustworthy. I get to trust the timing, and the fulfillment, of this time, to a perfect father, brother, friend, and lover, who I know has my best interests in mind.

This, in itself, gives me peace.

I have been thinking lately about names. There are so many that we get called day to day. There are certain names that bless me, names that are romantic, cherishing, sweet.

I'll begin with the names my husband calls me. "Babe." Not overly romantic to me. Slang, acceptable, I don't think I would want anyone but Travis calling me that name. "Babe" doesn't make me feel cherished or loved, but it also doesn't make me feel demeaned, disrespected, or unloved.

Then there is " honey." Honey is a sweet name. It makes me feel an echo of love, an echo of being cherished and invaluable. It isn't a name that blesses me to my core, but it's a name that does let me know that I am loved.

I think my favourite that my husband calls me is "sweetheart." Perhaps sweetheart makes me feel as though he sees my heart, and that is the part of me that he values the most. More than laundry, chores, good cooking, it is a name that makes me feel as though my heart is the diamond within me. It makes me feel cherished for who I really am, what I really think, and what my heart desires most. I love being called sweetheart. It's innocent. There is no sexual connotation, it is a name that is filled with pure appreciation.

However, nothing can compare with the names that Jesus calls me. It is amazing how cherished and beautiful I feel when I know that he sees into my heart. He sees the yucky parts, the dark parts, the beautiful parts, the desperate parts... and he LOVES me. He calls me "Beloved." Nothing could make me feel more esteemed, more beautiful and valuable, more pursued, than knowing that my pet name from the God of everything around us, is " beloved."

We put so much stock in names. Last names mean the world to men, the passing on of the last name, it is an age old tradition. People call us mean names throughout our lives. There are names that are demeaning, names that are humiliating, names that bring shame and regret. There are names that we accept about ourselves, and names that we wholeheartedly reject.

" I am a people person."
"I am shy."
" I am a Christian."
" I am a romantic."
" I am an artist."
" I am a whore."

How many times to we accept something about ourselves without asking Jesus what he says? I am learning that the names that matter are the ones that he gives us. Those are the only names that we should accept.

" You are my beloved..."
" You are captivating..."
" You are lovely..."
" You are dressed in white..."

I know that I will never know myself as well as Jesus knows me. I will never value myself the way that he does. I just need to continue to listen for his names for me.

theology and sociology.

Lately I have been musing on the whole " Your theology dictates your sociology" idea. I think that it is one of the best quotes that I have ever heard, and it goes so incredibly deep if you let it.

For instance, it's so interesting how when we speak with people about who they are interested in dating we will ask " so, are they a christian?" Really, when I think about it, that is such a shallow question. So many people call themselves christians, but their theology is certainly not all the same. Many people will say they are a Christian, and yet have no real interest in following God. Even for those of us who really DO want to follow God with everything that we have... we sometimes see things differently.

Those differences, translated to a marriage situation, would make an absolutely HUGE difference! Still, somehow the only question that we see fit to ask is " is he a Christian?" That is so ridiculous.

Remembering back to my teenage years, I dated a few fellows. One young man that I dated was a "christian," however looking back I seriously question whether he had a real relationship with God at all. That man was SO damaging to me. He hurt me worse than anyone else in my dating life ever did, because he was able to make me believe that if he wasn't pleased with me, God wasn't either. Nothing in the world could have hurt me more than that. Nothing in the world is more important to me than pleasing God, and one day hearing " well done, my good and faithful servant." The ways that this young man manipulated me were so cruel, and so damaging because I could have answered " yes" to the " is he a Christian?" question.

There were other young men that I dated, among them were even people who weren't believers at all. While these people hurt me as well, it was NOTHING compared to the pain that the "Christian" young man who wasn't really following God caused. No one who doesn't claim to be a Christian can try to make their approval and God's approval one and the same. They could hurt me, but not at the same capacity as someone who claimed to be saying what God was saying about me.

Your theology dictates your sociology. WHAT you believe about God, and how well you know him, are really the important things. Those are the important questions to ask.

Travis and I agree on childraising. We have the same stance on drinking, smoking, swearing, and gambling. We agree on our perception of God. We agree on the contract of marriage, and what exactly that means. We might not always get along, but our theology is the same. Both of us want, more than anything in the world, to have the deepest, most real, relationship with God that we possibly can have... and we will do anything to attain that.

We may not always have the same interests... but after a while you realize how much that really doesn't matter. When you see Jesus in your spouse, falling in love with them again becomes easier and easier daily. When you hear your spouse praying a heartfelt prayer, forgiveness becomes second nature. Out of your theology flows your sociology...

Out of your theology flows life...

Oh my, it is truly terrible the way that time will fly, and get away on you. It certainly does that to me.

There are so many things that I want to hang on to, but time flies and they slip from my grasping fingers.

I want to hang on to my daughter, keep her young, safe; shelter her tender heart from the indisputable hurts that will soon maraud her heart, despite my best efforts.

I want to hang on to the good days, the days where flowers, sunshine, joy, and love fill my heart to overflowing... but the rainy days come, along with their sadness, pain, and confusion.

That is when I must turn my thoughts to Jesus.

He is always the same, and I don't even need to desperately hang on to him...

He hangs on to me.

Then I get to look forward to eternity... and it's so good. It's so something to look forward to.

That excites me. It is so interesting living my life right now! I love it! Emma grows every day, and I am learning to make the sacrifice that every mother has to make... teaching her to become more and more independant of me. She is learning to push toys around and walk behind them. I am so proud of her! But she falls, and hits her head, and I think I cry as much as she does. Already every new stage brings about more indepenence for her. Every stage reminds me that it will get harder as time goes on. Right now it's bonks on her beautiful little head. Later, it will be scrapes and bruises as she falls off of a horse for the first time; then, skinned knees and elbows as the training wheels come off of her bike. Eventually ( heaven forbid) it will be hurt emotions, broken hearts, and delicate dreams coming to actuality. Her first date. Her wedding day. The day she makes me a grandmum. Every stage she is growing closer to me, and yet farther away. The only way I know that she will be okay as she becomes less dependant on me, is knowing that at the same time she will become more dependant on God...

That is my purpose, I suppose. I need to teach my children to become more and more dependant on God as time goes on, and stages come and go.

And one thing I know for sure...

He will never let them down.

Well, I haven't written in this for a long time... Perhaps because I thought it a lonely place to write. Now that I know it isn't so lonely after all, I suppose I will be more motivated to write again.

Thinking of writing made me think and wonder what really is going on in the depths of myself? Sometimes I think mommies and even wives just don't have time to think about that. I suppose I have been contemplating motherhood. It is beautiful, even when it means getting up at 1:00 in the morning, getting huge, throwing up all day, and wiping bums and runny noses. Still, in my mind there is something beautiful about motherhood. However I do feel that the beauty of it sometimes is slightly obscured by the curse of it. Not to point a finger at eve, for I am sure I have sinned worse if there are worse sins, but that pivotal moment where we were all cursed with pain in child bearing, has more weight in my life than I ever expected.
I always wondered (before having a child) how the curse worked when we have the blessed needle in the spine, narcotics, and so many other forms of pain relief in childbirth. But then, I learned by experience. Child bearing includes far more than just the birth. It includes having the flu for three whole months, feeling utterly dreadful but still needing the perform as wife and mother. It includes feeling huge and unattractive in later months, wondering if you will ever look pretty again. It includes the intense fear and questioning, "will my baby be healthy? Am I doing everything the way I am supposed to?" it includes the fact that no amount of help for the pain fully alleviates the sheer work, and pain, and aftermath of childbirth. It includes the way your stomach drops before you hear that precious baby cry, and then every cry afterwards is a heartache to you, every tear, every time they are sick, scared, hurt, lonely, your greatest desire is to make it all better.

But as always, God is so good. He gives women this huge undertaking. This immense commitment, not without immense reward. For there is nothing that makes me feel closer to my creator, than having life growing within me. There is nothing that can compare to holding my precious child for the first time. No joy in life could ever compete with rocking my child to sleep. That is the way God is. He wouldn't hold back his blessings even as he brings forth hardships. He is faithful. He is good.
Most of all, as the father of all things, who have his only begotten son to DIE for us... He knows exactly what each of us as mothers is going through. Perhaps it is the vague and imperfect reflection of him in us, that still makes motherhood beautiful.

movement

Moving! Its funny to me that I am writing this because I have prayed a few times that God would move us. It isn't that I am not happy where I am at all, in fact I have also prayed so many prayers of thankfulness for where I am as well. I have prayed for Gods will more than anything else. And I have always prayed for the best.

And now we are beginning the process of movement. Movement to bring a little more independant perhaps. Movement towards change. Movement in our lives and our family, because we think its best.

What's hard for me is the guilt. The more I examine it the more ridiculous it is. There is no condemnation in Christ Jesus. There is conviction but I have experienced both and the sensation of them is so entirely different. So the guilt is not from God.
I look deeper. Why do I even feel guilty? What is my enemy telling me? I hear dark voices say "this simple mo_ will tear your family apart. You are going to hurt your husband. You are pushing him into this. This isn't going to work. You should never have prayed for this."

Hmm. I shouldn't have prayed? Its funny how when I examine the enemies words instead of just accepting them, they make no sense.

Never once did I push travis into anything. I prayed for Gods will, and I told him my hearts cries. And you know, when I listen to his sweet voice, I hear him saying what he always says.

"you are so precious. I hear your heart and I will do what is best. Push away the self hating thoughts. You are a blessing to your husband. You are a beautiful gift. I will look after you. The pieces will fall into place."

Movement is good. Directed movement is far better, and that is what we are doing.

Emma

So its been forever... Then again I have a good excuse... A brand new baby takes up a lot of time! Intfoducing baby Emma Audrey Schmeelke, born June 7th 2008, five pounds five ounces. She is absolutely beautiful!

Its funny, you know, I thought that I knew what love is... But there is nothing in the world like the love of a mother for her child. It is like nothing I have ever experienced. It is amazing and intense. She us so much a part of me, and yet so much herself. Its like a tidal wave of emotion pours out of me every time I look at her, every time I hear her cry, every time I hear her laugh, or are her smile. I want to fix everything for her! Every boo boo, every heart ache, every sad moment;

I wonder as I look at her and clap for her four month old efforts, as I watch her roll over, or grab a rattle for the first time; I wonder what she will be like someday. I wonder who she will grow into at 2, 5, 8, 12, 16, 60? I am just amazed at ago she is already and she can't even talk yet!

So... I am discovering the virtue of patience! I wasn't having a very hard time waiting for this baby, until I thought it was coming and it turned out to be nothing but a very convincing dress rehearsal! I was in the hospital for twelve of fifteen hours of contractions, to no avail. I'm still closed tight as a tick. *sigh*

At least I feel more prepared about it now... I think maybe that is why God let me have the false labour. Now I know that whatever comes my way I'll handle it just fine. I know that Travis is going to be an incredible support person, and I know that h...e... double hockey sticks and high water won't be able to keep my mom away. It'll be good. I'll do ok.

life and death

Is it bad to be a christian who doesn't entirely understand death?

Not that I haven't seen it, heaven knows from the time I was tiny the intricate workings of life and death became very apparent to me. Sex was the bull and the cows making calves. Death was the stillborn calf that we tried to ressusitate, the baby birds I tried to rescue, the horse Dad had to shoot, the precious puppies who took too long to be born, who we worked on and worked on until breath left them forever. Death was the abandoned premature piglet that we bottle fed with a baby bottle until it got pnemonia and died. Death was everywhere. Death was as much a part of life as the babies that were born and healthy, sputtering and breathing in thier first breath. Life and Death, Death and Life.

But lately it's just hitting me. It started when I held little tiny Tim, as he struggled before death claimed him, still warm in my hands. Then my Auntie Erna died, and I cried as I wore the slippers that she had knitted and slept in an empty bed in her empty house. Then the dog that I had grown up with, Jill, finally passed away. Just as we seemed to be " moving on" ( isn't that what we are supposed to do?) My uncle Lorn passed away. Two precious people, only four and a half months apart. Then I found out that my favourite person from where I used to work died.

I think the part that frightens me is that I don't know how to respond... I feel guilty when I'm not crying, I feel silly when I am crying. I know that Jesus has taken them all to be with him, that every struggle in their life is over, forever, finished. It's just hard to comprehend that they are here... then they are gone. My mind races and I worry... how can I handle the rest of the people that I am sure to lose in this lifetime leaving? The thought terrifies me...

It makes me think of Cory Tenboom getting on the train... and her father's wisdom.

" Cory, when do I give you your train ticket?"
" Just before I get on the train."
" So it is with our wise heavenly father, he gives us what we need for what we are going to go through just before we go through it."

Perhaps I need to just relax and rest in God, knowing that it's ok, he will give me the strength that I need, just before I need it.

I need not be afraid of death, and if I am, I just need to reach higher for his almighty, comforting hand.

So I have been musing again...

I was thinking about homeless people. Sounds like a category but I don't mean it to be. I know that they are as different from each other as we are.

When I was with Grandma, in Edmonton, taking her to and from the clinic for her surgery, there was a couple of homeless men that stood outside of the building. One wore a sign around his neck " money for food," the other just stood there, saying hello to everyone who walked by and almost blocking the sidewalk off.

I would have given the one money, but he chose an unfortunate spot to beg... everyone already used all their change on parking, five loonies an hour. Of course, I politely said hello to the other one, as I walked past.

That's when I became a little horrified at myself. I had this overwhelming fear that he was going to choke me from behind, and I felt like breaking into a solid mad dash. Perhaps this is because of the time when I was working, and one of our dimensia patients choked me hard from behind. I'm not sure. But I don't know why all of a sudden this fear just seized me.

It seems to me that no matter how hard I try not to let them become marginalized in my mind, they still are to a point. Although I want them to meet Jesus, I want them to have good food, I plan on volunteering when I can to help them... I still see them as a little frightening, esspecially when I am walking with my just operated on Grandma, and my tiny unborn child. I just want to pray about this, and I know that God will lead me to see it the way that he does.

That's what I want, and not just for homeless people. How often do I walk by someone and judge them... wrongly.

I just want to see people the way that Jesus does, to be loving and cautious, wise as a serpent, but gentle as a dove.

2 pound chiuauas

Preparing for a new life... that's what I feel like. No... not what I feel like, what I am doing!! It's amazing, surreal, strange, wonderful, excellent, frightening, invigorating, exhausting, exciting, and completely overtaking.

It feels like there is just nothing in the world quite as important as this baby and it's arrival into the world. Perhaps that is silly. There are a million babies that are born every day... but none of them are mine. None of them were created in my body by God. None of them have been for me, the world's greatest surprise... this tiny person wrapped ( of all things) in my own body for nine ( but really ten) long, long months. It's the biggest miracle, the greatest gift, and it is happening from me... from the person that I love the most... in me. It is indescribable. So strange and yet so wonderful at the same time.

Picture a 2 pound chiuaua. That is the approximate weight of my baby right now. Picture that it is jumping around in your tummy, sleeping, waking, moving. As excited as I am about it, it is certainly a strange sensation!

Anyways, this is my most recent ponderings on motherhood!

stability

It's been a while since I last wrote! Not having internet at home probably makes that kind of difficult. Life hasn't changed much in the last while... maybe the only thing that has changed is that I am getting used to the way that things don't... change.

I guess when I was younger there was always another hill to climb, another milestone to reach, another year older meant so much. Finish school, move out, first kiss, bible school, marriage, pregnancy. I was always on the move, always living somewhere else and thinking about how things would change... and they did.

Funny isn't it that stability is something that you actually have to get used to. I think that is what it is. Stability. And things will change again... in three months I will be holding this new baby in my arms, and there will be a whole other being in this world because God loved me enough to trust me with it. But no matter what changes from now on I will always have stability.

I think it is interesting that despite ourselves, God gives us what we most need and most desire. I wouldn't have even known how to find stability for myself, but He did, and He knew how incredibly much I needed it. So he sort of dropped it in my lap and said " ok, here you go, now what do you think of that?"

I am slowly becoming acustomed to the idea that everything is ok. Today, yesterday, tomorrow. God has looked after it all.

Well apparently I am still unloved but I will write ... because I think I mostly write for myself anyways.

I am finding a new level of my relationship with God. Not that it has levels really... but the bible talks about ever moving from glory to glory. I feel like this is a new glory. A new and wonderful chance to get to know who God is in a new way.

As creator,

As my sustainer...

I just feel so helpless in so many ways at this time in my life. I have no way to reach inside and ask my little one " How are you? Doing ok honey? Too hot or too cold? what do you feel like for supper?" No. I just have to be content with the occasional nudge from the inside, and the peace that Jesus gives me. It is so surreal what is going on inside of me that some mornings I wake up feeling like " oh, was I dreaming, there can't really be a little person inside me can there?" But... then I stand up and see my protruding belly and go " Well, either I ate too much turkey over the holidays or there really is a little person inside of me!"

Crazy. It is just another excersise in getting to know my Lord!!!

Boo Hoo I am unloved. No comments. I am going on strike.

worry and faith

I wonder if it's just a girl thing,

worrying.

Maybe men worry too but just about different things, or maybe they hide their worrying... or maybe they have to much common sense male logic to worry. Who knows.

I just know that I struggle so much with worrying. Worrying that Travis is working in the freezing cold on top of the roof of a building. Worrying that there is something wrong with the baby ( even though every test comes back with perfect results). Worrying about money, worrying that my house isn't clean enough, worrying about work, worrying about family that have issues.

And then I pray. And I let it go. And I hear his calming, soothing, wonderful voice resonate through my soul " It's all going to be ok." He always seems to tell me that.

He has given me so many promises about this pregnancy! He has given me so many promises period and they just amaze and flabbergast me.

The best part?

They always come true!

Every time, without fail.

He tells me to give burdens not meant for me to him, he tells me that things are fine, they are good, they are perfect...

And yet I still struggle with worry?

How ridiculous I must be! How insane, how silly! How little faith. What amazes me so much is that in the midst of my worry he continues to console me, to talk to me, love me, cuddle me in his perfect way. I don't trust him like I should, only the way that I can at the time... and he is so amazing that it's good enough for him that I keep listening and asking for his voice.

I am hoping that God keeps building my faith, he is so gentle with me! I think that listening to him will be the most valuable thing I have as I head into motherhood.

love

This picture of baby toes is at the exact stage of development that my baby is at! Isn't that amazing for a little cahoot barely over two inches! The ultrasound that I had went fantastic I was so excited to see the baby move and to see the little heart beating!

I think that as all of this happens in my body I am becoming utterly obsessed with motherhood! As much as I love all the people in my life, I already know no one will hold the same place that this tiny child will. It makes me think about God in a different way.

He's my Dad.

Not only did he wait for nine months to see the child that had been developing away, but he knit me together with his own hands! He decided everything about me! He created me from end to end! How INCREDIBLY much he must love me, no matter what!!

2nd prenatal

Another prenatal happened...

You know, the embarrassing one that includes hospital gowns, gloves, and stirrups... not the kind that you'd find in a saddle either.

I was a little nervous, but it seems that the more that I take God at his word and remember all that he has told me and promised me, the more blessed I realize that I am! It is amazing! I got the blood results back, apparently they decided to finish looking over the vials and vials of blood I gave. ( That was another adventure alltogether... The huge needle pushed into my vein, the vials taken, the slightly queasy, lightheaded feeling as I walked back out to the waiting room to meet my husband!) Everything was perfect. My blood type is a good compatible one, my hemoglobin was good, I am immune to everything I am supposed to be immune to.... all in all I am very healthy, and the HCG levels are right where they are supposed to be!

Then all that jazz happened, and she felt for my uterus, which is just the right size! Relief and joy swept over me! Joy of all joys everything is exaclty the way it is supposed to be! I am so amazed at the sheer power and delicacy of the miracle that is happening inside of me! At last my baby looks like a baby, though only a little over an inch long. It's little fingers and toes, nose and ears, are all perfect and just where they are supposed to be. In only three more days my baby officially passes out of the embryo stage and becomes a tiny fetus!

God is good, and I am so thankful that he answers my prayers!

Anticipation.

Anticipation.

I swear I both love and hate it. God must love it because it's like Christmas all the time.

First I waited for a husband... impatiently... he brought me the perfect one at the perfect time.

Then I waited to get married...a little worried... nothing went wrong at all during the whole day.

Then I waited to get pregnant... when I least expected it I saw two pink lines.

Now I am waiting for this baby and my stomach to grow... and I am finally learning to just take God at his word and trust him.

He is so good.

I am so excited to meet this little person, this person that is only an inch long inside my body.

This little one that is only really felt by me.

I can't wait to feel the first kick! I can't wait till the first time that Travis feels the baby kick!

I can't wait till my first ultrasound and the first time I hear the heartbeat!

There is so much to anticipate!

positive tests

Ahhh it's been a while again. Oh well. I don't have access very often anymore. I suppose everyone ( particularily anyone who would read my blog) knows that I am pregnant! I am so excited. In the first week that I knew I think I did seven tests and giggled all over again every time that they were positive. I am waiting with baited breath for the arrival of a baby bump!

My slightly bloated belly just isn't doing it for me just yet. I can't wait till I can't see my feet.

So many people have asked me " What do you think? Is it a boy or a girl?" Well I couldn't tell you, we haven't chatted yet. At first I thought it is a boy for sure, but then a little later when the actual organs would be forming, I started thinking girl... which is my current stance.

So it depends on whether you believe in gut instinct or first response ( girls I couldn't help the pun, they are the best tests after all).

So far it has been a glorious adventure! Yes, glorious despite the vomiting each morning ( which I have down to a science now) the pickled carrots, and the sleepless nights. I love to watch my dear husband as he pats my belly and says in his most appealing baby talk voice, " Hello in there, little guy!"

REally, I am most in awe of God. The fact that in eight short weeks of pregnancy he is forming a perfect little being in my womb. My baby already has it's own set of perfect individual fingerprints, a heart that is beating far faster than mine, kidneys, lungs, a little nose... I have a perfect being inside of me that is only half an inch tall! I keep remembering the verse from Psalms, " I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made" and another one, " For you made me trust in you at my mother's breast, from birth I was cast upon you, from my mother's womb you have been my God!"

I pray every day that my child is growing close to God even now in his or her spirit, that God is raising this child up to be his very own. And the best part... God would never say no to a prayer like that. I think he loves to create, and I think he is even more excited than me!!