San Diego: Convention Days

Still in San Diego, though the convention is now officially over (and I'm officially exhausted). We'll be spending the next two days at the zoo and safari park. James has had some busy days with Opa and Lola, who have taken very good care of the little shark, but I'll admit to not really knowing all that they did with him. I know they went to see the sea lions and to a birthday party for one of Lola's relatives in LA area, but that's just about it. Today, though, Opa and James were watching the Tigers game and James got so excited and would make excited noises, but when the tv was on something else he wouldn't. What a good boy :) 

So what have I been doing with myself? Jumping from session to session to family room to big room to session to sanctuary to session to family room to big room to session to... It's been a pretty intense weekend! I've come away from it with a ton of new ideas rolling around in my head, as well as a few really important things in my (and Tim's) life that need to be implemented. The two most important things I've learned are that 1. I'm not important to youth ministry, and 2. I cannot manufacture fruit.

So that first one: We're told all the time that we're important, that God loves us SO much, that we're worth so much to him, and either we believe this or we don't. What I've learned this weekend is that just because we're important to God does not mean that we're all-important to his ministry. I love my job, I love my youth, but lets face it - if I weren't there someone else would be. We make ourselves into being so important to whatever it is that we're doing in life. For me, it's ministry. They're MY youth and my lessons are SO important, and really they should shut up and listen to what I have to say because it will CHANGE THEIR LIVES! Wait... hold on. WHO's ministry is this? Are they really going to remember everything that I say and think I'm so super smart and in tune with God and want to be just like me? Uh. OUCH. (Please don't be just like me - that's too scary). My self-importance in ministry has become debilitating to the ministry because instead of it being a God-run ministry, it's a ministry in which I feel like I am doing everything and so I am the important one. It's all about what I can do rather than what God will do. Which leads me to:

#2: I cannot manufacture fruit. Jesus said "I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful. You are already clean because of the word I have spoken to you. Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me." God is the gardener, Jesus is the vine, and we are the branches. I cannot produce fruit without abiding in Jesus - period. If I'm not in a personal, deep, steady relationship with Jesus, then all the work I am doing is just me trying to "manufacture fruit". My job isn't to make fruit on my own, but rather to remain in Jesus, abide with Him, and allow Him to produce fruit through me. This point leads me to realizing that above all else is the importance of my relationship with Him. The problem comes with the fact that I have no real time to focus on that relationship because I am so busy with everything else. Doug Fields, a speaker, told us today that Jesus was never rushed. He didn't rush into ministry - he waited until he was 30 and then spent the first 40 days in the desert alone with God (plus the devil who showed up). He didn't rush to heal the sick - and ended up having to bring them back from the dead instead. He stopped, he took breaks, he slowed down and spent one on one time with God. His ministry wasn't about DOING it was about BEING. Doug said to us "Show me a busy life and I'll show you a broken life." When we're busy and our lives are hectic, we aren't in a strong relationship with God. We're instead running around trying to manufacture fruit rather than allowing God to produce the fruit. Every time I say "yes" to something new, I'm saying "no" to something else. If I say "yes" to something at church on a day I need to spend with my family, then I'm saying "no" to them. I need to learn the art of saying "no", or else my family and my relationship with God will suffer for it. Those are the two most important parts of my life, they are where I lay all of my life-long commitments.  Anything else comes after those. No more saying "no" to family time because I'm running around from meeting to meeting, event to event, program to program. My doing more stuff won't progress God's kingdom if he's not in it in the first place. Time to reevaluate.

San Diego Day 2: Birch Aquarium

Yesterday it was raining on and off all day. We were going to go to the village to see Ruby, a bird that previously sat on dad's shoulder, but we didn't want to get caught in the rain without any gear. We ended up at P.F. Changs to have lunch with Malia. I got the dim sum lunch, which was so good! Malia suggested we head up to the Birch Aquarium in La Jolla (la hoya) to be safe from the rain. Before we did anything else I had to sign in for the convention. At the sign in I got a really cool bag made by women in India who are making these bags to stay off the streets and away from prostituting themselves. The bags are made from recycled banners and not one of them is like any other bag. Some of the bags had words on them in multiple languages, and there was one that even had french fries on it! I chose one that was just a bunch of really bright colors. After signing in at the convention headquarters, we decided to go to the aquarium. Of course, we got lost on the way there even though we were so close. Eventually we made it there and had a lot of fun with James. He was intrigued by the fish in the tanks, especially the big and the colorful ones. He even got to see sharks! It's a small aquarium, not much bigger than the fish exhibits at John Ball Park Zoo, but it was perfect for James. The one thing I wasn't a huge fan of at the aquarium was the global warming part. It portrayed it as fact, rather than theory, and even had a running counter on CO2 emissions since whenever. It was some huge, ridiculous number, which is probably true, but it didn't say how much of the CO2 that has been emitted gets taken in by plant life and changed into O2 for us to breathe. If they had done that and then presented another number of CO2 emissions that are still hanging around in the air, I probably would have found the information useful. Anyway, the day was pretty good and James had a lot of fun (Lola always makes him laugh). The view from the aquarium looking out to the ocean was gorgeous. And to top off the day, the Tigers WON!

JAWS! At the Birch Aquarium.

The ocean.

With Opa and Lola at the aquarium, looking out at the ocean.

JAWS First Flight

Yesterday James and I flew from Grand Rapids to San Diego for the National Youth Workers Convention and for a visit with Opa, Lola, and Aunt Malia. I'll admit to being more than a little nervous about flying with a baby, especially on my own. Turns out, I didn't need to worry, James is an excellent flyer! Tim dropped us off at the airport at 6:30 for our 8:15 flight. I thought it would be good to have extra time to go through security and get his diaper changed. The woman at the check in counter was nice, but said I didn't actually need his birth certificate - that's just for international flights. Not sure how I feel about that. I don't like the idea that anyone could just take a baby on a flight, even in country, without them making certain the child is actually yours. At security, the guard was wonderfully helpful, he even put stuff in bins for me, pulled out my laptop, and folded up my stroller. We got on the plane last - intentionally, and found ourselves sitting next to some great people. James made them laugh with his antics. He kept peeking through the seats in front of us, eavesdropping on those people's conversations, he did his usual jumping up and down, and he tried repeatedly to steal the girl next to us' bright blue pillow. Not once did he fuss or cry on that plane. As we were taxiing into the gate he fell asleep (great timing buddy).

On the plane from Grand Rapids to Chicago

After getting off in Chicago we had to run to our next plane since it was already in the boarding process (not easy to do with a baby, bags, and a stroller that is meant for strolling not running). When we got to the gate the line was still long so I took the time to change his diaper - and was the last one on the plane yet again. This time the plane was much bigger and had a lot more people on it. James fell asleep about a half hour into the 3.5 hour flight. He slept for about 1.5 hours and after he woke up I fed him some yogurt - note to self, next time bring Tim along just for the feeding! He got restless with about a half hour to go so I stood up and bounced him. He laughed, made eye contact at people, smiled at them, and entertained them the whole time we were bouncing. He jabbered away at them and made a ton of "friends". I'm thinking this social personality is a trait he gets from his father...

We got off the plane in Phoenix only to find out we had to switch terminals by going outside the airport, catching a bus for a 5 minute ride to the last terminal, and then had to go through security again. This time security wasn't very helpful. They even tested his bottle and then had the nerve to look upset that I was holding up the line... I wondered if they ever had to go through security with an infant on their own. This is what it involves: take out baby food and declare it, take out the bag of 3oz liquid/gel items (diaper cream, orajel, tylenol, etc.), take out the laptop, take everything out of your pockets, take off your belt and jacket, take off your shoes, take your baby out of the stroller, fold it up and put it on the belt one handed, and then you have to put it all back together again. Of course I was holding up the line! I officially have a strong hate on for the Phoenix airport. If I have a choice, I'm never flying through there again.

The last flight was even smaller than the first. We ended up sitting in front of people from our previous plane, and one woman was actually a true British nanny. She took him so I could find a place for our stuff in the already crowded plane (we were, of course, the last ones on again). James ended up sleeping through the entire flight, only waking up as we descended. Getting out of the airport was easy and Dad and Helena were already there waiting for us (with their own story to tell about border patrol crossing and cop-induced traffic jams).

Opa and James playing in the hotel room.

We went to the hotel and unpacked, then went to dinner and on to Ralphs and Target to get baby stuff. We ended up getting this super cute and totally awesome inflatable tub in the shape of a rubber ducky (see below) for James to take his baths in. He loved it! Honestly, I think it's better than his bath at home. He kept beating on the poor duck's head. Anyway, it was a great trip for the most part, and James is such a good traveler. I got so many compliments on how good and cute James is (and that I should send his picture in to Gerber). I'm thanking God (again) for that blessing! He ended up sleeping better last night than he has in weeks. One thing I didn't think a lot about was the time change - so at 2 (5 our time) this morning James had to wake up for a bottle and then woke up again and wanted to play at 5 (8). It's a good thing Dad and Helena are deep sleepers! That's it from San Diego for now. Our internet connection isn't great, but I'll try to keep the blog up while we're out here.

James in his new inflatable rubber ducky tub!

Baby Blogging

It has been a long time since I last blogged. And in that time we have had a lot of changes. Tim started working at GRCHS this fall as the Applied Business teacher; we went on a long vacation out west for backpacking, mountain biking, and mountain climbing; went on a mission trip to Costa Rica; and the biggest change of all: we're pregnant! Okay, I'm pregnant, but Tim is along for the ride and has to suffer my random cravings, morning sickness, back pain, pregnancy hormones, crazy moods, etc. I was asked by a few friends to start blogging again so that they can keep up with the pregnancy and our ever changing lives, so here it goes.

Baby Westrate-Stapert at 11 weeks 2 days

Currently I am 11 weeks and 5 days pregnant according to the doctor. However, my pregnancy tickers keep telling me that 11 weeks and 3 days even though they both have the same due date: April 4, 2012. It's a little confusing, but I'll go with the doctor. So let me catch you up on the past few months: morning sickness but no throwing up, gagging, insomnia, food sucked, severe fatigue, growing pains, pregnancy brain, early back pain and back muscle spasms, and a whole lot of worry.  Obviously worry was a big part of this pregnancy early on considering the previous miscarry. Though Tim and I were very excited and decided to tell family and work early on so that we could have support just in case, we both worried a lot. I avoided anything that could even possibly hurt the baby and prayed constantly for the health and life of this baby. Now that we are coming up on 3 months along, and almost to the 2nd trimester, I'm feeling less worried. My first appointment with the doctor was this week and she tried to use the doppler to hear the baby's heartbeat. After a few tries she couldn't find it. They rushed me into the ultrasound room and found that my uterus is tipped, which is why they couldn't find the baby's heartbeat, but the baby is healthy and fine. In fact, the baby was moving so much that the tech couldn't measure the heart rate. She called the baby a runner - like daddy :) It was so amazing to see the baby move that way. It made something that almost seemed to be in my imagination, real. Our baby is real - and ALIVE! I love this baby, I love the baby's daddy, and I'm so excited (and nervous) to bring this baby into our lives forever.

10 weeks 5 days pregnant

Some things we could use prayer for:

• My tipped uterus seems to be causing a lot of back pain and stress on my ligaments and of course there is the worry of possible miscarriage with a tipped uterus (though that's rare, and the doctor doesn't seem worried about this). Because of this there is worry about back labor, especially with the amount of lower back pain that I've been having.
• Lack of weight gain - Okay, I'm not against not gaining a lot of weight, so it's more like I need prayer that I can start eating again - and enjoying the food. The baby needs me to eat 300 more calories than I used to but it seems that I'm eating significantly less than before. Also, I forget to eat, always have, and that causes me some worry on making certain that the baby is getting all the nutrients (s)he needs.
• That we make the right choices for our baby. From choosing equipment based on safety or cost, to things like which vaccinations to get and which ones to avoid. There seems to be two sides of these things, especially with regards to equipment, and Tim and I seem to be on opposite sides. I'm more of a mind that I'd rather air on the side of safety, Tim prefers to air on the side of cost toting the line that most of the safety regulations are new and probability of safety. I see his point, and mostly agree, but I tend to have anxiety issues and have difficulty sleeping because of anxiety over things like this.
• Motivation - something that seems to come with pregnancy with me is a sudden lack of motivation. Pray that I get the things done that I need to both at work and at home, and that I re-find motivation to do those things.
• Non-pregnancy things include Tim's job (that it continues to go well and he continues to find his routine as a teacher), and my job (that I keep doing things the way God wants me to rather than what is easiest for me).

Lately I've been feeling down about our house. I hate that it's not clean and organized. I hate that the dishes sit in the sink. I hate the clutter on the counters and on the tables. It's weird because I used to be very clean and well organized. When we lived in Chicago, the apartment(s) was almost always neat, the dishes were done almost immediately, the floor was vacuumed at least once every two weeks. I also cooked - a lot - and had time and energy for my garden which produced way too much food for two people. Now, however, I can barely keep up with keeping the counters and the tables clear of clutter. Vacuuming is mostly reserved for when we have people coming over whom we don't necessarily view as family, or who have allergies to our cats. Our dishes are almost always piled up in the sink, and it keeps getting worse from there. (the toilets and tubs are usually clean though - I'm still somewhat obsessive about that). My mom and brothers wonder what changed. We joke a lot and say it's just me conforming to Tim's way of life, but mostly that's just in fun. Even when I have the time, I don't have the energy to clean or do yard work, or even play in my garden. Even when I'm not busy at work and am having a slow week (like last week), I'm often emotionally exhausted and don't feel like doing it. Often my job takes up 6 days a week to do activities, too often it takes up 7. I LOVE my job, and don't want to give it up anytime soon, but it wears me down. Because Tim doesn't care that much, I've just started shrugging my shoulders and leave it alone. I think if I could get some help with it, I would do it more. I've always like cleaning, it gives you such a sense of accomplishment, but I don't have the energy to do it all on my own anymore. I've even joked that I need a wife just to do the housework. Maybe now that Tim has that job at GRCHS we could hire someone to come in once a month or so to do a little something just to ease my stress.

Dreams

I must confess how terrible I've been in regards to my writing, both on this blog as well as outside of it. I haven't written a thing lately. I either don't have the time, don't think to write, or decide to fill up my free time with things like reading on my kindle or watching shows on hulu. I'm starting to understand why many churches give their pastors and their other pastoral staff sabbaticals. I could use one right about now. Not because I need the rest or because I need a break from my job, no, I need a sabbatical so that I can do some of the other things I want to do but don't have the time or the diligence to do them while working a full time and a part time job as well as being a wife, a daughter, a friend, and a woman. Lately the time I have in which I can be myself, I fill with reading instead of writing. I know I'm putting it off, and I even know why I'm putting it off, and the reason and the fact that I'm allowing myself to do that bugs me... and yet I don't change it. As Flannery O'Connor says "I don't know what I think until I read what I write." I suppose lately I have no idea what I think. Maybe I just don't want to know what I think.

I told the youth group kids to answer these questions for themselves: What do you dream? What do you value? What do you live for? These are my answers:

I dream about becoming a mother, and yet the thought scares me a little. Frankly, I'm a lazy person. I don't want to do cloth diapers because then I'd have to do laundry just for the diapers at least 2 times a week. No thanks. I want to send my kids off to a licensed day care so that I don't have to deal with them every minute of every day. Is that awful? Is that selfish? All I know is that I need time to myself frequently. Of course there are other reasons I want my children to go to day care early in life as well, but still. I also dream about writing, not just journaling or an occasional article, no I want to WRITE. I want to be an author. I want to write books that people love to read. I just don't know WHAT I want to write. Fiction? Fairytales? Christian inspiration, either fiction or non-fiction? Books for other youth pastors or books geared toward youth? I have no idea. I guess that is one of the reasons I'm struggling with writing. I don't know what I want to write, so I just don't write. Of course, I'm also afraid nothing I write will be good enough to publish. I'm not very good at self-critique.

I value family. I don't value friends as much, probably because to me my best friends become family. I value time to myself, just being on my own. I value my relationship with God, but it's purely selfish and really only grows when I'm in need of something. I value my relationship with Tim and I value Tim himself. I worry sometimes that I don't value those things as much as I should. I also value being dependent. That's not something most people value, but I like it. I like not knowing everything about everything. I like being able to just say "here, Tim, you do it". As much as I like being in control at work, I value being able to let Tim have control at home. I'd rather not have it. It's a weird thing to value, but I do value my dependency on others.

What do I live for? Sunday school answer? Jesus. Real answer? Yes, Jesus is definitely in there, but I also live for my family (which includes my closest friends), and the youth I work with. Maybe I'm lazy because I find myself living for others, and when it comes to myself, meh... who cares? I don't know.

On a totally different topic:

I would like to help coach the soccer team at Belding, but there are some obstacles in my way. The first one is, what if I need to leave for a game earlier than I get out of watching Abby? I can't take her on a bus. Soccer is volunteer, watching Abby is a paid position. Also, I really enjoy watching her. Practices shouldn't get in the way since the coach doesn't start them until after 5pm, but that might get in the way of having time with Tim since his practices for track will go until 5. Also, I don't see myself as being a very good assistant coach to anyone, especially a non-vocal coach whose purpose in coaching is more to further his daughter than to win. I don't know that I will like the way he runs practices, the drills he does, or his lack of expectations for the players. I would have an incredibly difficult time working under someone with little to no leadership skills. And yet, I long to do it and would love nothing more than to be able to coach... I'm just not sure I'd want to assistant coach.

Maybe I just want to do too much, or at least, do too much right now.

A New Project

While my sister was in town for Christmas I decided to start something I've been thinking about for a while now. I've been tossing around the idea of writing a journal full of stories, adventures, and thoughts from our lives for our future children and grandchildren to read someday. Some of these stories might be fiction (think mini-bears), but most of them will be from our childhood and early years of marriage. I want our kids to know what we were like before they came along, and I want them to know what marriage is like when it's young so that their marriages are more likely to be sustainable with realistic expectations. I have yet to start writing this, but I found a nice journal to do it in, and I think I'm ready to start it. I hope Tim feels comfortable enough to write in a story or more of his (Honduran spring break, florida sans shoes, other great tales from his early life). I'd like them to know our faith walk through this notebook. To know the real us. The us that isn't perfect or all-knowing. The part of us that is nothing if not human, rife with human error. I want them to know that God is with them by seeing how He has been with us. I also want them to know that they're not just loved, but also wanted.

Zombie Days

Yesterday was a good day. I got a lot done in the house, nothing bad happened, it was good. Today I feel like a zombie. I can't think straight, I can't remember the things I'm supposed to do, simple tasks take a ton of thought and processing. I don't know why. I'm able to write, though the number of typos I have to correct is crazy, and writing is the only way I'm able to process anything today. I went on facebook this afternoon in one of those "what am I doing" moments, and found that my sister-in-law sent me a message about having babies. It was a satirical post someone else had made on facebook about the lessons you should learn and the steps you should take before becoming a parent. (I enjoyed the part that said to take a grown goat to the grocery store with you, likening it to a small, preschool aged child.) It was funny, and I'm sure she meant it only as a joke, but part of me was like "huh... thoughtless". If things worked out differently, I'd have a child right now. I then hit the 'home' link and was going to go back to work when I saw a new picture of one of my old roommates from college and her husband. I clicked on it and the caption said "Parents to be!" Ugh. I mean, great for them, but really? Some days it just comes back to me and bites me in the butt.

I guess I should go back to staring at the things I should be doing for work, but being unable to figure them out. *sigh* I'm a loser.

Unwritten

No one reads this, but here are my thoughts as I sit at home with nothing to do.

Since I was a little girl learning how to put letters into words, words into sentences, and sentences into paragraphs of meaning, writing became necessary to who I am. I love words, I love their meanings as well as the connotations of those same words in different situations. I love eloquent words used with flourish, and I love colloquial words used to make up normal, or even coarse, conversation. Each word has it's purpose, to convey a feeling or an action or some sort of explanation for every situation. I suppose this is why I'm not so upset when people use curse words, because I see them simply as expressions of the way the person is feeling. I do get upset when people use them in regular language, as it is inappropriate but also shows a lack of intellect and respect for both others and him/herself on the speakers part. Words do not only tell a story, they also shed light on what is important to the storyteller. Take the story of Cinderella for example. Cinderella is a story known in almost every culture, whether by that particular name or another one. The Brothers Grimm tell a tale so morbid it becomes laughable and utterly outrageous, while the writers at Disney told a story of love and hope that defeats all odds and overcomes all obstacles. The Grimms thought to warn young ladies of the pitfalls of being vain and greedy, while the Disney writers wanted to encourage fanciful thoughts on love. Words are also interpreted differently by alternate readers. One person could read the Disney version of Cinderella and be totally captivated by the love story, while another person could read it and be disgusted by the sexism and glossy outlook on love which makes the first reader demand a perfect love as in the story.

I think it is fitting that Jesus is called the Word made flesh. He is the story and He is the storyteller. He is and He was and He will be. He not only told stories with his parables, but he told a story in how he lived and treated others. Jesus was nothing if not kind. I've decided that kindness is underused these days. It should be a virtue that permeates every part of our daily lives, and yet it is such a struggle to find someone who is naturally kind. In all of the Bible there is only one place that I can think of where you might argue that Jesus was unkind, but at the same time it was out of a righteous anger against the people who spurned God and God's holy temple. There were times when Jesus was asked a question and he would give the answer with no cushion, such as the time he told the wealthy man he must give up his wealth and possessions and follow him in order to be saved, but he was just truthful without coddling the man so that he could know the absolute truth rather than be misled. There was never any meanness, even in his righteous anger. If Jesus is the story and the storyteller, what is he trying to show us? What is he trying to teach us?

In all my life I have met only one person whom I would say follows the letter of God in regards to kindness. She always thinks of others first, always has a kind word to say, and even in her rare moments of anger or frustration, she finds something good in either the person or the situation that made her so. When I talk to her, (or rather complain to her since I am a person naturally hounded by mean spiritedness and a cruel and perverse sense of fun in cutting someone to the quick with wit and sarcasm) she always has a sense of kindness around her that when I get upset or am tempted to say something horrid about another person, I am reminded that it is wrong. She never sets me straight or tells me to stop complaining or meanly gossiping, but being around her reminds me that it is not how I should be acting. There is a holiness to her that is refreshing and keeps me thinking about how I act and the things I say. I have never met anyone who more resembles the salt of the earth and the light to the world as all Christians should be. Most people who think they are those things often irritate me because they hold themselves in such high esteem, but not her. She is truly humble in this, never thinking herself better than any other, but rather lowering herself below others. It is so rare to find that in another person, and I am glad to call her friend.

I often think about writing books, about telling my story so that our children and grandchildren can know me and learn from my life's mistakes and miracles. I also think about writing fiction books, either children's chapter books or books for adults, and having them published. A part of me is too afraid to try, a lot of me is just too undisciplined to even attempt at carving out sufficient time to sit down and write. I can't even keep up with this blog. I often think about what it would be like to have an office to go to where I would just sit down and write, making that my career instead of youth ministry. Often times I long for just that, but I know I can not make the kind of money doing that, that we need to live off of and even when Tim has a job teaching I'm not certain it would create enough income to be worth it, so I don't allow myself to think about doing that too much. I also know that my lack of discipline, my inability to focus, and my lack of trust in people's responses to what I write will work against me. I wrote a Christmas story this fall, but I have no way of knowing if it is something anyone would ever consider publishing as a children's picture book. Most of the stories running around in my head are unwritten because I fear that they have no use to anyone but me.

I know this post was rather random, but still. It was good just to sit down and write for a while.

Broken Girl by Matthew West

The Adventures of Animal Kingdom

Gibson (AKA the court jester):

"Daddy brought home another friend for me to play with... food... My new friend is black like me and talks a lot... food... I try to play with my friend... squirrel... but he didn't want to play with me at first. Last night I cuddled daddy and mommy and guess what?! ... food... my new little friend let me put my head next to him while he slept on daddy's lap... flying geese... Today he let me play with him and his new toy... minibear on the porch... some sort of stick with feathers on the end... food... I try to remember to be gentle cause he's so small... garage door... but sometimes I forget and then mommy yells at me... food... I don't like it when mommy yells at me, it makes me sad... sleep."

Tibby (AKA the princess):

"I don't know why, but my human slaves brought home another cat. It makes no sense, I'm the best and the prettiest, why would they want another one? This one is kind of cute, all black and really little, but not near as beautiful as me. Maybe they brought him home cause he has two full ears, but they always say my half ear is the cutest thing about me, so that can't be it... can it? I DON'T KNOW!!! I'm so confused. I watched him play with the female slave and the big black furry slave who makes me laugh. They were playing with this toy that looks like one I used to have. I kinda wanted to play with it, but I think I'm too old for that and it's uncool... but I still kinda wanted to. They brought home food for the intruder so he doesn't have to share mine anymore, and that's good, but does that mean he's staying? I'm not so sure about this. I suppose as long as he leaves me alone we'll be ok. The slaves keep him locked in the bathroom most of the time so I can still run my kingdom."

Toyota (AKA the new prince):

"I had the scariest adventure the other day! It all started out when it was cold and kind of rainy, so I climbed into this silver thing that was warm and dry, and fell asleep. Next thing I new the silver thing started purring and vibrating and then we were moving really fast!!! It was so scary! When it finally stopped this big man opened the top of the silver thing to let me out and rescue me... I like this big man. Then there was this really big black animal, I think he's a dog but he could be a horse, who wanted to play with me but I was still too scared. A lady showed up and I love her, she held me and fed me, and lets me cuddle her. She gave me a toy today to play with, it looks like a bird on a stick, and I get to chase it around and around until I get tired! I let the dog sleep by me last night and let him play with me today. I'm not afraid of him anymore, I know he's just a big clumsy dog who just wants to be friends, he won't hurt me on purpose. There is also this silver princess cat. She's all grown up and super cool, but she won't let me play with her yet. I think she thinks she is too cool for me. We'll see. I'll change her mind! She already lets me get closer than she used to! Unfortunately they keep me locked in a room most of the time and only let me out sometimes. It's ok though because I can sleep better in the big man's sweatshirt in my room than I could with the big dog. I like this new place, and even though it started out scary, my adventure has given me a new place to live that is warm and dry, with people who feed me and love me, and two other friends for me to play with. I think I'm home for the first time!"

Calling vs. Vocation

Lately I have been thinking a lot about my job, why I'm doing youth ministry, why I'm doing it at Oakwood, and why God put me here where I am. Maybe it's just so I can get Tim through school so he can become what he was meant to be. Maybe it's so I can help specific people, but once that's done I can leave. I'm not seriously thinking about quitting, but it's been on my mind lately. Last night I had a dream that I was able to walk into church, worship, fellowship, and leave feeling rejuvenated rather than stressed. Oh how wonderful would that be?! To be able to be the type of Christian who is able to go to church on Sunday, be revived with the Spirit, go through the week in Christianly love, and show up to church again on Sunday just when you start being worn out... this is my dream! How wonderful would it be if church were a safe place for me, a sanctuary where I could shed the bitterness, the sin, the depravity of life, and instead find righteousness and holiness. Now church is the place I work, it's the place that causes my stress and my anxiety.

Don't get me wrong, I love youth group, I love organizing activities and being with the youth. I can't stand the bitterness of the leaders who are supposed to help me guide my youth on in their walk with Christ. Their bitterness is strangling me and putting stress on our friendships as well as on the working relationship I am to have with them. I honestly don't know what to do about that. Do I just say "your bitterness is strangling me"? How on earth would I ever say that?! I can't say that, so I suppose I'll just shut up and live with it.

My devotions this morning were on calling vs. vocation. The author of it (his name is Os... how odd), stressed that our calling and our vocation are separate. Our calling is to be in relationship with God. Our vocation is our purpose here on earth.Our purpose can change, one purpose can be fulfilled while we begin another. Our calling will never change. If we start saying our calling is our vocation then suddenly we start trying to find self-worth through our job rather than through God. We fall into the trap of locking our identity into our vocation rather than finding our identity in Christ. This is especially difficult for someone in the ministry. Our vocation is about God so everything to do with it should be of the utmost importance right? Wrong. What I do in my youth ministry is not as important as what I do in my life. My relationship with these youth is not as important as my relationship with God. It's not even as important as my relationship with my husband. I was warned once, by a veteran youth minister, to not think of my work as God's work. God does his own work, and even if he chooses to do it through me sometimes, my job is not so important as to interfere with the vows I made before God in my marriage. When I married Tim I made a vow before God, when I signed up to do this job I merely signed a contract between men and women.

I don't really know what I'm saying. I suppose I'm saying that though I don't want to quit this job, that I really do enjoy it (though too often recently it's been "I did enjoy it"), I'm feeling the flickering of burnout. I got an email yesterday with an attachment called "Leaders in Crisis: I Want to Quit" about youth ministry workers feeling the burnout. Burnout is so frequent in my profession, there is too much stress, too many responsibilities, and frankly, too much emotional work that leaks its way into the rest of your life. This little flyer I got laid out some steps to figure out if it's a true burnout or if it's something that is just calling for change in Spiritual life. The steps are to slow down, reconnect with God, identify the pain points, get outside perspective, and decide the next step. The problem is right now isn't exactly the time of year to slow down. My heart hurts. I think this stress is why my acid reflux has come back with such a strong force.

I need a break.

Gimpy... again

So a couple posts ago I talked about how soccer was therapy for my depression... unfortunately it is also causing a need for physical therapy. :( Playing soccer with the Belding kids last night, I took one step towards the ball and felt a distinctive popping tear in my knee, right where I had my surgery. Yup, feels like the meniscus again. I'm starting to think that soccer isn't a good thing for me anymore, that maybe I have to give it up for my knee's sake. Except I don't know that I can do that, I don't have will power strong enough to keep me off the field. How can I quit something I love so much simply because of my knee? The thought of not playing again tears me to pieces, soccer is one of the best things in my life, I love it more than any sane person should. Why is it I have to be the one to give it up? It makes me mad. Walking around the house with crutches frustrates me, I don't know whether to sit down and cry or punch a wall... I often feel like doing both (though I think I hide it fairly well). Beth came home with me last night to fix me a sandwich, get me ice and my leg up, do some of my dishes, and let the dog out and feed him. I don't know how I got so lucky that I can just call someone to bring me crutches and they do so much more. Of course, she also told me I need to stop running around so much, stop being so busy with sports, and actually give my knee the chance to heal. The problem with that is that it's so boring! I can't sit still, I can't stop playing sports and being active! People count on me to be there and I love doing it. How can I let others down and how can I stop doing what I love? I know I sound like a whiner, but I'm frustrated and annoyed, so I think it's acceptable for a little while.

Random Thoughts

My garden is looking better now, or maybe that's just the zucchini. My two jalapeño peppers were eaten through by bugs though and that sucks. None of my other peppers thought it was necessary to grow at the same time as the others and now I have one sweet banana, one sweet tiny bell pepper (not enough of it to do anything with), and one hot wax pepper. What am I supposed to do with those? I have no idea. My tomatoes on the porch have finally started giving me a lot of tomatoes, still not as good as my mom's plants though. The tomatoes in the garden have grown taller but have almost no leaves on them. They, too, have started fruiting, but barely. My onions are looking awesome, my strawberry plants are vining out like crazy, the potatoes are chugging along, and the zucchini are growing marvelously. I must say I'm extremely happy I put my zucchini in cages, they haven't sprawled, and the fruit stays off the ground for the most part. It is also a lot easier to get to the zucchini. I am not happy, however, with the Japanese beetles that have started eating my raspberry plants. I'm not as diligent about my gardening as I was in Naperville when we had to drive to the plot, which is odd since this garden is in my own back yard. I am just rarely home, and when I am it's in the mornings or late at night, my two most unmotivated and unproductive times of day.

Allergies. I hate allergies! I've had them for the past two weeks and they are worse than ever, making me utterly miserable! I get massive congestion headaches, my eyes water or gunk up, I cough up phlegm (which is very painful for my lungs), and my nose is either stuffed or runny. I've been foggy headed because of this and have forgotten simple things because of it. Couldn't find my keys at the softball diamond, we looked everywhere and they were in a zipper-pocket in my purse. I forgot to tell the youth that the river floating cost $6 a piece, so I had to send a last minute email asking them to pay if they were willing, but I couldn't force it. Many payed, some didn't. I'm dumb when I have allergies, they make me forgetful and just plain stupid. They also make me nauseous. Have I mentioned that I hate allergies?

Hulu has been my reprieve for when I don't have books to read. Unfortunately hulu has been freezing on me with regularity. Sometimes it works, but often times it doesn't. I can't tell if it's my connection to the internet or if there is something up with their site. I have the most recent software to watch the videos, it just isn't working. I'm annoyed.

My eyes itch. Stupid allergies.

Soccer Therapy

I forgot that soccer works better than books at working away some depression... I guess books are just easier to come by than a soccer game is. I went out to the Belding practice field tonight to help out with the coaching for the girls and guys who come play pick-up soccer there, and had so much fun doing it. I think the coaches appreciated my thoughts and liked the way I talked to the youth as we were playing the pick up game. I would love to actually work with them with a real practice and have more of them there. We had 15 including the two coaches and myself. It was so much fun being able to just go out there and do what I'm good at without thinking, without planning, without worrying. I get to do it now for the rest of July, every Tuesday and Thursday from 6:30-8:30 pm. I love the game, I love seeing and using teachable moments (though I wish I could play freeze-frame soccer with them so I can do more in-the-moment coaching). In short, it was a blast and it pulled me out of my funk! A good evening after a really crappy day.

Dear Diary...

Again, I don't really have a single, specific topic to write on today, but I wanted to write, to get my totally random thoughts down so that I don't lose them (and yes, I would lose them, possibly forever if I don't write them down).

Mary is back in town again for a bit of the summer. If you don't know, Mary is my older sister who lives full-time in Hong Kong and makes a living teaching in a Canadian Christian international school. Mary and I don't always get along, we're too similar and too different at the same time. Mary and I have a special relationship and it works really well most of the time for her to live on the other side of the world. Don't get me wrong, I miss her a ton, and when life sucks she's usually third on my list of people I want to run to (Tim, Mom, Mary, etc.). We're just both so stubborn in everything we do and our thoughts/beliefs/lifestyles don't always mesh. We also both have a tendency to put each other into neat little boxes and like to think we know the other better than the other knows herself. For instance, today we got on a topic from our past that she thought she knew me well in, and she really didn't. It's amazing how sisters, close sisters both in age and in friendship, could live life together for 18+ years and miss so much about each other. When it came to that topic she claimed "you've yet to forgive on that score"... and I thought about it, and I suppose I haven't fully forgiven the way God does, but I think I've forgiven as close as I can, or at least as close as I can at this point. The pain I feel isn't at all like the pain I've felt in the past, there's no anger, there's no frustration, only sadness, and most of that sadness came from the fact that she didn't recall the reason for my pain in the first place. I know I do the same thing with her, I put her in a little box called Mary, and anything she says or does that doesn't fit in that box surprises me. In any case, Mary's back and I love it, but I know I have to be cautious with her or tempers will flare and we'll be at each other's throats over inconsequential things.

Another thing on my mind is something that is almost always on my mind: children. We watched my cousin's twins this past Saturday, and I loved it. I love being with children, I love caring for them and having them around. One thing I learned (well, I knew it before, this was more of a reminder) is that my house is not childproof! My books are now laying all over the floor of the second bedroom, my decorative sand from my candle piece in the bathroom is now all over the floor of my bathroom, and things are just generally out of place. Despite all that, I really enjoyed being with the girls, they are two of my favorite children ever. Their personalities are so strong already and I can just imagine them as they grow up. Tim really wants twins, and I think we could handle them as long as we have our routines. I really want children, I want to be pregnant again and am able to rejoice in that. I also know that we're going on an international mission trip next summer and taking an infant or being pregnant would not be ideal (to say the least). And yet the longing is back, not quite as strong has it had been before the miscarriage, but it's back again in a healthy way. I still grieve, as I'm sure I will forever, but it's few and far between and it doesn't last longer than a couple minutes. It usually comes when people mention miscarriage or when someone asks me how I'm doing in regards to my miscarriage, but even then it's not bad, I just get a little sad. I do wonder how I would be handling pregnancy at this point, I'd be 5 months along right now, and I wonder if I'd be showing like Carrie did or barely at all like Maria. I miss the child we should have had, and I hate that I'm missing out on those experiences with her/him, but I'm looking forward to the next pregnancy, and I'm anxiously awaiting the time when we can start trying.

Dear Diary...

Since this is my diary, I'm going to treat it as one. Here are a few of the things that have been floating through my mind lately.

I find myself having strange dreams lately. Last night's dream was vivid, and still real after almost 20 hours later. I was on this road, and it was life, and there kept being circles and turns where I had to make a choice as to where I was going next. Sometimes I kept circling around the same places, having to cross the same choices over and over again. For some reason Carrie jumped in the car with me at one point and we were talking about where we were going and if we were ready to go there yet. Then there were other times when I was alone or there were a lot of people in the car with me. Sometimes the road was slow and it felt like I was getting nowhere. Sometimes I was in a sports car that went so fast I had no choice really where I was going. Sometimes I was driving, other times I was a passenger. I've never really been a big believer in dreams meaning stuff in life, I just figure they're mostly just dreams influenced by what has already happened and most of the time they're sporadic without making any sense. This dream felt different. For one, I actually remember most of it, but it also seemed to fit, like there was something I'm supposed to get from it. I don't remember what the choices were, but I do remember the worry, the indecision, the stress of making the choices. I remember one circle in particular, we just kept coming up on this one intersection and I kept going left, certain I was making the right decision, and yet I kept coming back to it. I wish I could remember what that was about.

My house is a mess. My yard is a mess. My office is a mess. My car is a mess. I can't find time to do all this cleaning, organizing, weeding, mowing stuff. When I do have a little time I'm either too exhausted to do what needs to be done, it's too late at night, or I'd rather spend time with Tim instead. I'd love my house to get done, I'd love my garage to have shelves and a workbench so Tim's tools weren't laying all over the floor. I'd love my carpets to be cleaned and my laundry put away (it's folded, just not put away). I'd love my yard weed-free and my kitchen counters and table clutter free. Part of our issue is that we don't have storage space, not true storage space. The other part is that we're just lazy. Why take the softball equipment out of the car when it will need to be back in there in another couple days again? It bothers me, and yet I have no motivation to do all of that stuff by myself.

I've been having tremors again, and I'm getting dizzier more often again as well. I wonder if it is just the heat, if it is stress, if it is exhaustion, or if it is something I'll always have because of the medication mix-up. It's annoying, I have a hard time doing things like typing when it gets bad.

I've been thinking a lot about adoption lately. As a social worker I understand why parents get so much time to change their minds (it's up to 3 months now rather than 30 days), but as a prospective (future) adoptive mother it scares me. I feel like being a foster parent would be less painful and stressful. Going into a relationship with a child knowing that you aren't going to keep the child seems less stressful than thinking a child is yours and having their biological family take them back, take them away. It scares me, and yet I have a heart for it, a longing and a desire to share my love with a child. I often wonder if my child is already born, and pray for that child's safety in his/her travels to me and Tim.

I don't know. These are my thoughts lately. They're all over the place and random, but this is my diary, so who cares?

Life in the Shadow of Death

Our interim pastor's message this past week was titled "Living in the shadow of death". Interestingly enough his message didn't catch my attention near as much as his title. When I saw that title I thought "isn't that just what I've been doing?" Now, his message was nothing close to what I got from the title, he was talking about struggles within an organized church, I was taking the title a bit more literally than that.

I've been living these past few months in the shadow of the death of our child. I've been mourning and grieving and asking why and blaming myself (even when I know it's likely not my fault, it still feels that way). On the last night of our mission trip I got to sleep in a tent with Carissa, just the two of us. We were able to talk, and I was able to share with her some of the things I've been going through. Interestingly enough some of the feelings about wanting to move on to the next stage of life but not being at a point where we can, were feelings we both shared even though the stages we are in are different from one another. Despite that we were longing for different things, the longing itself was so similar. It was something I got to share with her that I haven't been able to share with anyone else other than Tim. It was reassuring.

Today I'm feeling more ready for life. We've got more stress on our plates financially now than we have before, and yet I'm feeling ready again, stronger again. I feel capable of pulling out from under that shadow even knowing it will follow me around, because it won't hover over me anymore.

"I can do everything through him who gives me strength." - 1 Philippians 4:13

The Garden

I realize that this is the second post of the day, of the morning really, but the first was so melancholy that I wanted to write something else as well. I was reading my friend Christina's blog about her garden and it got me happy and excited about ours! As you can see from the picture, our garden is a decent size, and we've added on to it this year (notice the panhandle section with the dark topsoil). We have a brand new raspberry patch, our strawberries came back in large numbers (we had only planted 5 plants last year), some onions and potatoes popped up on their own this year left over from last years crop, and I've planted a variety of tomatoes and peppers as well as yellow and green zucchini. Eventually, our raspberries and strawberries will have taken over, so we'll have to add more area for the vegetables. We bought a rototiller this year with my mom and brother, which has made things so much easier than last year when I did it all by hand. Our dirt is very sandy at the top and in order to get to any good dirt you have to dig about two feet down. We've also had a few infestations from ants that we've had to take care of. Gibson, our puppy, has a strange habit of rolling in the ant hills and brings the ants inside clinging to his body or inside his ears. Tibby, the cat, loves this because it means she gets to play with them. Of course her version of playing is torturing them to death by slowly tearing off one leg at a time. She does this with flies and moths as well, or any insect that gets inside really.

You will notice that in our panhandle we have the two zucchini, and yes, I'm growing them in cages. You see, almost any plant will grow up if you guide it, and in order to save on space I've decided to try growing a portion of the plants up rather than just letting them sprawl out as zucchini are so prone to do. We'll see how this goes. You also see here the white fencing as well as the lumber barrier. Tim bought me these things for my birthday back in November for our garden this year. While putting it together this spring he said it is like building me my own little play place. I think he is almost more excited about the garden this year than I am! For one, he has helped me more this year, what with the enclosure, rototilling and all that manly stuff. Also, we transplanted raspberries from his sister and his dad's gardens. We'll get a few raspberries next year, and by the following year we'll probably be overrun by berries! There is nothing Tim likes more than fresh berries. We're also going to be acquiring an apple tree in the spring from our friends who own an apple orchard for our yard. We're very excited about that! Tim grew up with an apple tree in his yard, not good for eating off the tree as it was a transparent apple tree (very tart), but excellent for baking. We're hoping for a tree that produces fruit good for both baking and direct eating. We'll see what we get next year.

In addition to the garden, I've also potted two different tomatoes and two different peppers

for on the back deck. Last year's crop was pitiful due to the abnormally cold summer, but peppers have never been my strong suit. I love peppers, but for some reason my plants never get as large as others I know. They also don't produce as much fruit. The only ones I've had much luck with are the banana peppers and the jalapeños. I'm thinking I might need to invest in some of the miracle grow for vegetables to get them larger and healthier, but I almost feel as if that's cheating somehow. You see in this picture that the large tomato plant (celebrity) is so much bigger than the tomato next to it (window box roma), but the roma has some tomatoes growing on it already. The celebrity is starting to flower now as well. The peppers (a sweet banana and a lilac sweet bell) are starting to flower now too. Are you supposed to put miracle grow in when they are already flowering and producing fruit? I'm just not sure. The other peppers I have are a hot Hungarian wax, a jalapeño, and a sweet red bell. I really wanted a hot banana to offset my sweet banana, but last years didn't turn out hot at all. The other tomatoes I have are the sweet 100, a yellow pear, beefsteak, another large beef variety, and the jet star which grows 8 oz fruits. I'm also going to plant some more yellow onions. I've tried to grow red onions as well in the past, but they haven't done so well. My mom says that they don't usually do too well in our climate zone, so I'll just stick to the medium yellows for now. I've also thought about some large white onions, but I've only come across the yellows in the stores. I'm not going to plant any more potatoes than what are growing from last years plot. We just don't eat them enough to make it worth it. I've thought about beans again, but we don't eat them enough either. Why grow something we don't eat much of when we live so near farms and farm stands that sell them cheap for when we do want them? I'm also going to avoid corn again, I really didn't like dealing with the earworms. Those were nasty! We'll see how this years crop grows, and hope and pray for a hot summer!

The Un-Mother

When Abby was born Rocky and Carrie had our friend Marnie there for support, and due to the fact that she is 15 years older than Carrie, the nurses thought she was the Grandma. Afterwards it became a little joke, and Marnie was calling herself Abby's "Un-Grandma". That evolved into a day calling Tim and I her "Un-Aunt" and "Un-Uncle". I was thinking about that today, remembering that before Abby was born, on mothers day, I had had a hard day because it was my first "Un-Mothers Day". I'm an Un-Mother, a would-be mother without a child. I woke up this morning and one of the first things that popped into my mind was that I should be 4 months pregnant today, and I'm not. I should be out of my first trimester and entering my second trimester with my first baby. Lately the grief hasn't been hitting so hard or so frequently as it had been. I've been able to get back into my everyday life, I've been able to focus at work and get things done, I've been able to take care of my husband again rather than just letting Tim take care of me, I've been able to do the laundry and the dishes, and today I was planning on vacuuming. But this morning sucks. I should have seen this coming, I sort of did, but held it off for a while.

Sunday a friend mentioned another woman in the church is pregnant, then remembered who she was talking to and immediately felt bad, but she remembered to ask how I was. Why should she feel bad for mentioning that to me? I should be able to be happy for the people around me who are pregnant, but it made me feel a little mellow and more than a little impatient to get out of there. Monday we went to a Tigers game with some family, including Maria and Rebekah. Tim held Rebekah a lot, same as he did Friday at our regular after-softball-dinner. I was hesitant to hold her when usually I would be trying to steal her from everyone. It's hard sometimes for me to see Tim hold a baby, to be so attentive. He'll be an awesome father, and should have been one 5 months from now. I should have been able to give him that. At Patrick's open house on Wednesday evening, a family friend asked me how I was doing and said "you know what I'm talking about". It was the best thing. People have stopped checking on me. Stopped asking me how I am. It's as if most of them have forgotten, and I realize it can't go on forever, but it's almost as if since they have forgotten I'm supposed to have forgotten as well. I know it's healthy to move on, and I have mostly, but that doesn't mean forgetting, not for me. It seems that with miscarriages it is so easy for people to move on, to say or think "well, that baby was never a part of your life, you never held that baby, you didn't know if that baby was a boy or a girl or have the chance to think up a name" and act as if the baby wasn't real, wasn't a part of me. That's how people treat miscarriages, as if they don't count as loss, or they don't count as much. I also got to see Abby again on Wednesday, though not for long and I didn't get a chance to hold her. My arms felt empty not holding her, I felt empty. It's not that Abby is a replacement for my baby, I'm not going to treat her like one, but holding her gives me comfort, even when leaving her makes me sad. It's the same for Rebekah. Often times it's hard for me to see others hold them, most of the time I want to be holding them, and it's for purely selfish reasons. When they're in my arms I can forget my sadness and remember their parent's joy, and though there may be a little bit of jealousy there, it's not the majority of my feelings. I've been thinking though that maybe it's not healthy for me and that I shouldn't impose upon their lives. So I've been holding back. I haven't been with Carrie as much as we thought I would be, I've found and created other things to do when they ask us over. It's bittersweet, seeing them form a bond with Abby, and I won't lie, it hurts sometimes, though most of the time I'm just happy for them. I don't want to taint what's theirs. I know it's illogical, that they'd disagree with my trying to leave them alone (and probably are at this point since they're some of the only people who read this thing), but I also know that if anyone understands, it will be Carrie.

If Tim weren't in school, he'd be ready to have a baby. This was our timeline when we first were married, 3 years we said, 3 years. A year or so ago we decided that when we were both at the level of wanting a baby 5 days/week, we'd start trying. Well, we're there. I had been there for a while, and now Tim is here too, but we can't now because it would be too stressful with school for Tim and my lack of pregnancy insurance. We know we could do it, our parents did it and did it with less money, and we know we have all of their backing if we need it, but it's the time thing. We have very little time for each other right now, so how could we make time for a baby on top of that? Also, emotionally I don't think I'm ready yet, I want one, but I still need time to continue healing. Most days I'm ready, but occasionally I'm not. Some people don't understand that after a miscarriage another baby isn't a replacement. No child could replace the one I've lost, even though I never got to know my baby. I'll have others, but they will be individuals, not replacements. Each of my children will stand on their own, be important for themselves, be worthy of love because they will be fearfully and wonderfully made, because they will be mine and ours and God's. Beloved already is. I'm excited for the day I meet her or him, know my child, hold her/him in my arms, kiss her/his cheeks, and say hello for the first time.

Most of the time I'm fine. A lot of the time I'm really good. But there are days like today when I feel like I've just been sucker punched in the ovaries.