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Somewhere between the whisper and the roar...

I haven't posted for awhile. It's probably because the baby is packing on that fat that is only adorable on children and is sucking vital energy from my brain cavity. I really don't have many thoughts in my head. At least not deep, meaningful ones. Mainly my thoughts consist of one recurring theme:

"My due date is in _____ (fill with remaining number of weeks) and ohmygosh then I'm going to have to go into labor. How bad is it going to be?"

That's my main stream of consciousness (that follows me into unconsciousness at night... I can't get away from it!). What's it going to be like? How bad is it going to be? Am I going to want to kill my husband? Am I going to lose control and act all freaky like some of those women on "A Baby Story" on TLC?! (Please, no.)

I have a really bad habit of worrying. I was going to add, "... about things I can't control." but the truth is that worrying... on any level... is not a good thing. It sucks the peace and vitality right out of you. And the more you fixate on whatever the problem supposedly is at hand, the more out of control it becomes in your mind. And suddenly you're a mess. A real trainwreck. Kind of like an episode of "The Bachelor". We know we should pull ourselves away... pry our hearts out of the pit and go dance on higher ground... but we can't stop watching. We can't stop picking at the scab. We can't let it be. We force peace, a false peace, where there is no peace.

You can't control and safe-guard everything. Or anything. Sometimes when I feel the baby hiccuping or wiggling around, I think, "Oh, just stay in there. I won't know how to take care of you out here." It's overwhelming. While it will surely be fun and wonderful to add a baby, our baby, to our little house and our little coupledom... it's also very, very terrifying. Beyond the ticking fear of not knowing how he will be brought into this world, there is the fear of raising him and feeling as though you don't have a clue in the world. And the worst part?! That you never will.

I'm anxious and overwhelmed. I can admit that. I am less than six weeks from my due date, so I almost feel as though I've "earned" the right to be a basket case, at least inwardly. Outwardly I try to remain carefree and hopeful, but on the inside I can barely breathe sometimes. I'm trying to have peace when there is no peace. And it's just not possible. Peace is peace. You can't fake it.

And so I'm taking lots of bubble baths and saying lots of prayers. And I'm trusting that the gaps that I somehow create in raising this little man, that God graciously fills. That where I'm weak, He's strong. That when I don't know what to say or what to offer, that God will teach me as much as He trains our son. I know we can't do this on our own. I know we have the best of intentions, but I know it won't always be enough. Without God being in it, we'll just be skimming the surface. Just getting by. Having peace on the outer with no peace in the inner.

So, I'm trying to reconcile all of that. I'm trying to let go of my desire to control and protect and steer and admitting that I don't know what the heck-fire I'm doing. And I most likely never will. Not perfectly. And that's okay, because Someone else does and can and will. I can't do everything or prevent everything or insure that my son will or will not suffer through this or that. It's out of my hands. It always has been. Even though he has been growing within me for the past 8 months, the truth is that I have very little control or input over his well-being. Sure, I take my vitamins and steer clear of bleu cheese, but really... how much of a role am I playing?

I'm pretty sure Someone else already claims more supremacy over "my" child....

"You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body
and knit me together in my mother’s womb.
Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex!
Your workmanship is marvelous—how well I know it.
You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion,
as I was woven together in the dark of the womb.
You saw me before I was born.
Every day of my life was recorded in your book.
Every moment was laid out
before a single day had passed.
How precious are your thoughts about me, O God.
They cannot be numbered..."
~ Psalm 139:13-17, NLT

And that same Someone... God the Father... still claims supremacy over me. Over my worries, my faults, and my anxiousness. He knows me. He's always known me. He's never stopped knowing me. And just as His thoughts are precious towards my unborn child, so are His thoughts precious towards me. Sometimes it is easy to feel forgotten. That all you are is existing or getting by or going through the motions. Or if you're pregnant, that you're just a pod in which this little person is growing in.

But the truth? The truth is that I am not forgotten and that I do have peace. A peace that only He can give. It's easy to get side-tracked and forget about that when you're up to your eyeballs in a life-changing occurrence. It's easy for it all to become too much. And I have a feeling I will have many, many moments when it will feel too extreme. Too heavy of a load to bear.

But that's the beauty of having a Savior. You don't have to do it alone. You don't have to figure it all out. You don't have to somehow wrap your heart, mind and arms around everything that maybe, might, could, probably will happen... because He already knows, sees, loves, and owns those times. The pressure is off. The peace is offered.

Anyone else feel that? Like it's okay to breathe, again?

"Somewhere between faith and my plans...
Lord, I feel You in this place and I know You're by my side
Loving me even on these nights when
I'm caught in the middle..."
~ Casting Crowns


  1. Amazing.

    I love how you say, " Even though he has been growing within me for the past 8 months, the truth is that I have very little control or input over his well-being. Sure, I take my vitamins and steer clear of bleu cheese, but really... how much of a role am I playing? I'm pretty sure Someone else already claims more supremacy over "my" child...."

    And then you launch into Psalm 139. So perfect. So perfect. My face almost cracked open with this smile. ♥

    Keep preaching to yourself, sista!

  2. Awww, thanks, Bonni! You're so sweet!!!

    God was good to bring that passage to mind that morning. It's one that I've always known, but it has really sunk in ever since I became pregnant. Our pastor used it in a sermon not long after we found out we were expecting and my eyes teared up and both Aaron and I were like, 'Wow.' Because we were in that place, it just hit us how intricate the whole process is.... and how involved from start to finish and beyond God is!!!

    Love you! Thanks for reading! :o)


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