Bigger than My Belly

Tonight I discovered that there's a part of me that's actually bigger than this huge belly I'm sporting.  

It's my heart.

As I watched Josiah sing with all his might on stage tonight with the Shenandoah Valley Children's Choir, I could feel my heart swell--and swell--and swell, until it was by far the biggest part of me.  

I wish I could find a new way to say it, but instead the same thoughts echo through my mind: how glad I am that Josiah is able to be a part of this choir!  how much I love watching him and hearing the glorious music!  how proud I am of him!!!

He has another concert tomorrow afternoon, so we get to do it all over again.

I can hardly wait.  ;-)

~ David took this picture of Josiah and I, right before we left home for the concert this evening

Crocus, in Picture and Poem

First Crocus

by Christine Klocek-Lim

This morning, flowers cracked open
the earth’s brown shell. Spring
leaves spilled everywhere
though winter’s stern hand
could come down again at any moment
to break the delicate yolk
of a new bloom.

The crocus don’t see this as they chatter
beneath a cheerful petal of spring sky.
They ignore the air’s brisk arm
as they peer at their fresh stems, step
on the leftover fragments
of old leaves.

When the night wind twists them to pieces,
they will die like this: laughing,
tossing their brilliant heads
in the bitter air. 

Baby Blessing: Week 36

It's getting close.  It's really and truly getting close.  At times during the past eight months, I've felt like I have been pregnant forever...and like I will be pregnant forever, just growing and stretching and gaining weight and walking more slowly and getting more clumsy and uncomfortable.  But now suddenly, I see with great clarity that the end is in sight, a baby will be joining our family soon (with "soon" being a relative term, of course!), and I won't always be this big!  Hooray!  :)

As the countdown to the end continues, there are certain must-do things on my mental Before the Baby Comes list; and at the very top was a photo shoot.  Through the past few years, we have been wonderfully blessed by friends who have been in various stages of starting up or developing their photography businesses, and they have practiced by "shooting" us.  Lisa is one, and Misty, and now Emily.  Such talented friends we have!  This time, it was Emily who did the shoot for us; and I've got to brag on her for a minute.  She's only 15 (soon to be 16 though, since she's my birthday buddy and we share the funniest day of the year on which to be born!), but has shown tremendous focus (pun not intended, but appropriate for a budding photographer!) as she has pursued her dream of developing her photography skills.  I know for a fact that when I was 15, I was not nearly so focused on my future business plans as she is on hers!  It's been a joy to watch her go after her dream and develop her talent, and I am so grateful to her for braving the chilly weather (it might look warm in these pictures, but it wasn't in real life!) and capturing these images for us!!  :)

So, the contest!  :)   In this post, I invited guesses about when our baby will be born, with a prize to be given to whoever comes closest to the correct day and time.  The guesses so far are these:
~ April 1, 2:20 AM ~ Michelle (Tim's wife)
~ April 1 ~ Sarah-Anne
~ April 2, 9:58 PM ~ Amy
~ April 4 ~ Lauren from Australia
~ April 5, 7:02 AM ~ Sara
~ April 7, 4:00 PM ~ Valerie
~ April 8, 8:00 PM ~ Emily
If anyone else wants to guess (or if those of you who did not specify a time would like to add that information), please click back to the original post to leave your answer in the comments there.  That way, I'll have all of the guesses in one location; and it will be easier for me to figure out the winner after Little Miss herself reveals the answer!  I know what a mess my brain can be in the early days postpartum, and I don't want to let anyone's guess slip through the cracks, if I can help it!  :)

It was fun to read the name guesses...and the song suggestions...and the verse suggestions, too.  Thanks so much for your input!

I also enjoyed reading your questions, and I want to make sure I answer them now (before the baby fog hits!).  Valerie asked if I wear my babies.  Well, I'm wearing my baby now!!  ;-)  But no, she meant do I wear them in a sling or baby wrap.  To answer that, I'd have to say that if the occasion calls for it, yes, I do wear my babies; but I'm not really a baby-wearing mama like some women are.  Let me explain...  Before Josiah was born, we got a Snugli that could hold a baby in three different positions; and he was often in it.  Especially after we moved to Israel and didn't have a car, we used that thing a lot; even when he got too heavy for me to carry him in it, Jeff used it quite frequently when he and Josiah would go out together.  It was nearly worth its weight in gold during our time in Israel!  David was born in Israel, so we used it quite a bit for him, too, in the early months of his life; but when we returned to the States, life changed.  We had a car again, and used a carseat, of course.   There just wasn't as much need here as there had been in Israel to carry a baby with a sling or wrap.

Having no wish to ignite a firestorm of controversy, I'll simply say that I don't hold to the opinion that a baby that I've conceived, carried for nine months, given birth to, breastfed, snuggled, hugged, kissed, etc. has to be worn next to me most of the hours of the day in order to feel safe and secure and to form a great attachment to me.  I think in a "normal" setting, attachment happens naturally between mother and child, and I dislike seeing young moms feel pressured to always be wearing the baby or co-sleep with the baby (especially if it disrupts her sleep, or creates distance between her and her husband) or what-have-you.  If they want to do those things, great!  (Unless hubby has a problem with it...then those issues need to be addressed.)  But I almost feel like "attachment" has been promoted to this elusive, celestial goal for new mothers; and I want to reassure them that the attachment will happen!  Let me clarify this by saying that in certain situations (particularly adoption!!!), attachment does not naturally occur; and extra effort needs to be given to develop it.  I'm not denying or downplaying that at all.  But I've never felt like I had to wear my babies in order to bond with them or have them bond with me.  I'll add to that the fact that I've never had a colicky baby; if I had and if the only thing that soothed that baby was being in a sling or wrap, you'd better believe I'd do it!  ;-)  The other thing that factors into my own situation is that there hasn't been a shortage of arms willing to hold babies around here.  (Like Jeff holding baby Tobin...or Grandma holding him...or Grandpa holding him...or Josiah lovin' on him...or David snuggling with him--and letting him suck on his pinky!...or all of the boys showering baby Shav with love...or Josiah having one-on-one time with Shav...or David with him...or Grandma rocking him...or Grandpa holding him...or Jeff, of course...I could go on, but my point is clear, I'm sure!)  So, Valerie, does that answer your question?  Probably more than you wanted to know.  :)

Let me reiterate that I am NOT in any way saying that it's wrong to wear your babies or that moms shouldn't do it or anything like that!  Just sharing what my experiences have been...  I hope that came through clearly enough.  :)

Sara asked how I handle homeschooling with a newborn.  Well, I'd have to say that it's different every time. This will be my third baby that I've given birth to during our homeschooling season of life, and each time things went a little differently.  In the case of this baby, however, I feel very blessed by the timing of her birth because we will actually be done with almost all of our official school for the year by the time she is born.  When I was planning out our school year (which is always a very rough schedule for me, not a rigid one by any means!), I purposely tried to arrange things so that the bulk of our work would be done by the time the baby is born; and so far, we're on track to accomplish that goal.  I hope to do some posts about homeschooling sometime soon, and maybe I'll give more specifics then.  But to answer Sara's question, yes, we will take some extended time off (although I do have high hopes for using the summer for some "extra" educational stuff--fun stuff)...and yes, my boys (Josiah and David) are pretty good independent learners--particularly Josiah who is very self-motivated.  Just to give one example, Josiah set a goal to finish his fourth-grade math by Christmas, which he did; and in January he started his fifth-grade math which he hopes to complete by the time the official school year starts in the fall.  That would put him a full grade ahead in math, so I anticipate him continuing with his math lessons, even after the baby is born.  (We use Teaching Textbooks math for him, and he does very well doing that by himself.)  In the fall, I anticipate using the baby's morning nap time for our most focused portion of schoolwork together, but we'll see if that goes as planned or not!  ;-)

Moving on to other things...  Does anyone have a tent I can borrow?  Oh, not to use for a camping trip, but just to use as a garment.  I've got to find something to keep myself covered, and I seem to be growing out of all of my other clothes!!!  ;-)  Fortunately, I remember from previous pregnancies that here at the end, I do hit a phase of feeling like "ack! argh! oh no! what am I gonna do? even my maternity clothes are too small for me!"  But then I remember that really, it's only a few short weeks left until my body (slowly!) starts returning to its "normal" size, and eventually I'll actually be able to pack away these maternity clothes and wear my regular clothes again.  But during the next few weeks, I might have to wear the same clothes every few days...just because they're the ones that still fit.  :)  Today, for example, I had to keep tugging the front of my shirt down, to try to keep it over my belly.  Several times, one of the boys squealed, "I see your tummy!"  They think it's hilarious.  ;-)

Speaking of the tummy...here it is...  These are the pictures that would make my grandparents blush if they could see them...

My stretch marks right above my belly button always show up, and this pregnancy is no exception.

The stretch marks don't bother me, and my back has--for the most part--been treating me well and not bothering me either.  The terrible muscle soreness from my sprint to catch Shav has almost completely gone away, so physically I'm actually feeling rather good.  Except for one thing...  A few weeks ago, I wondered if I was catching a cold because of the congestion in my nose and head.  I didn't really think it was a cold, but I wasn't sure so I waited and kept track of my symptoms until I finally realized that what I'm experiencing is more than likely a consequence of allergies.  Our winter has been exceptionally mild, and one of the results of that has been an early start to the high pollen of spring with its accompanying allergy-causing properties.  Boo.  :(  I am grateful that the only way in which I've been affected is basically in nasal congestion.  I haven't suffered from a sore throat, or itchy eyes, or sneezes, or headaches, etc.  But I really miss being able to breathe.  ;-)  With my nose so clogged, I have to breathe through my mouth; and I'm sure I snore terribly at night.  A few nights, I have even had trouble sleeping because I would fall asleep very quickly, then actually wake myself up with my snorts--over and over!  Very frustrating, to say the least...and not a bit dignified!  ;-)  Sometimes when I'm reading to the boys, I'll feel so congested that it seems like I can't even get a breath and read at the same time.  I've heard, somewhere along the way, that the hormones in a pregnant woman's body can make nasal congestion worse, and ya know, I'm inclined to agree with that!  But even this troublesome condition is really not worth complaining about.  Overall it's been another easy pregnancy, and I feel so blessed by that!

When I went to last week's appointment at the midwives' office, I had already set up the next few appointments (because the schedule there gets full, and it can be difficult to get an appointment that suits me if I wait until the last minute), and one of those appointments landed yesterday.  But Ann, who is wonderfully practical and laid-back and easy-going, said, "Well, you can come in for that appointment if you want to; but you don't really need to.  You can cancel it if you want."  So I did...and was very grateful to not have to spend my Wednesday morning in town.  As much as I love the midwives and enjoy my visits with them, I'm glad to be able to use my time to get other stuff done, too.  :)  And speaking of that...it's been difficult recently to know what to focus on.  As much as I want to nest and get everything in order for Baby Girl's arrival and finish some household projects and take a day to prepare freezer meals for after the birth, etc. I'm finding that, if I'm going to get our school work done like I previously mentioned, I've got to spend my time on that--no question about it.  But sometimes, like when I have a box of delightful girl clothes to sort through (given to me by my friend Ceci), it's difficult to make myself read to the boys about Julius Caesar or go over spelling words with Josiah!  As eager as I am for this girl to be born so I can meet her face to face and begin the process of getting to know her more fully, I am actually quite content for her to stay put for a while.  I feel the tick of the clock, and I know my pre-baby time is limited, and there is so much more I want to do before she comes!  However, I'm also fully aware that, when all is said and done, it doesn't matter a bit what I have to let slide in order to have and nurture this baby.  Even if she came today, with my to-do list barely touched, it would be OK.  Really, it would.  :)

One more thing to mention about this stage of the pregnancy...  I have somehow lost my appetite, which wouldn't be such a big deal, except that it makes it terribly difficult to decide what to make for dinner each day.  Without my desire for food as a guide, I find myself scratching my head and wondering what in the world to cook.  I'd be perfectly content to set out a bag of tortilla chips and make a smoothie and call that dinner, but I have a feeling the other seven people who gather around our table wouldn't be so thrilled with that...especially if I did that every night for the next three weeks!  ;-)  I just feel completely uninspired in the food department.  I suppose I should get out some cookbooks tomorrow and try to get a little revved up about food again!  Maybe some new recipes would help.  But actually, the only new recipe that I have even the tiniest desire to search for is a smoothie recipe that uses strawberries.  David told me the other day that he would like a smoothie recipe named after him, so I need to find a good one for him.  But that doesn't solve the supper dilemma.  :)

At Josiah's group violin lesson yesterday, one of the other moms (well, she's a friend, too--not just a violin mom) asked me if I was counting down the days yet.  As a matter of fact, I'm not yet; instead, I'm still thinking in terms of weeks.  It's three and a half weeks until my due date, right?  But then I realize that actually, it's only three weeks and one day.  Because we're still in the month of March and my due date is in April, I have the feeling that her birth is a month away.  It could be, of course; but it could also be much closer.  I'm trying to prepare my mind for both possibilities; and meanwhile, the anticipation builds...

...and builds...

...and builds...

:)

What Good Is Pi Day...

...if you don't get to eat pi(e)?

 So we did!

 (Eat pie, that is.)

 It was grape pie...and very delicious.  ;-)

********

What good are these spring-like days tagged onto the tail end of winter...

 ...if you don't take advantage of them...

...by planting your garden?

********

And what good are temperatures in the 70s...

 ...if you don't get outside...

...to soak up the sun and fresh air...

 ...and to distract Grandma from her work?

Attention from Grandma is the best part of all!  Hee hee.  ;-)

Wordless Wednesday {Her Sweet Shoes}

~ photos by Emily, of course  :)

What Shav Taught Me about Trust...

...and how that relates to my upcoming labor and delivery.

From the moment we stepped through the doors of Massanutten Waterpark, it was obvious which of the six of us was least enthused about being there:  Shav, by a landslide.  The rest of us possessed, in great quantities, happy memories of previous visits and were eager to create more memories in an environment so completely devoted to fun; but Shav was--quite understandably--overwhelmed and intimidated by the sights, the sounds, the newness of it...everything, I suppose.  Even walking down the stairs by the "waterfall" in the lobby was hard for him to do, and he eagerly searched for arms to hold him and carry him down the steps.

I watched him throughout our time there and picked up on various cues from him about what he was feeling; and as I sat quietly and held him for several hours as he slept during our second visit to the waterpark that day, I tried to put myself in his shoes.  It is noisy in there.  All the sounds of rushing water and pumps and people and heating systems and who knows what else make it a very loud environment.  And it is big.  The room itself, the slides, the buckets of water that pour out occasionally, etc.--all are huge.  There is so much to see and hear and feel that it's no wonder he was most likely feeling very small in the midst of it all.

But this is the wonderful part.  Rather than fussing and crying and expressing his timidity in that way, that sweet boy chose trust, instead of fear.  Every time we went into the pool, he clung to me like a koala--quiet and peaceful, but close.  I offered for him to stand up on the ledge along the side of the pool, with my arm around him, so that just his feet and legs would be in the water; but he wasn't interested.  He was wearing a life jacket so he was perfectly safe even if I wasn't holding him, but I don't think he knew that.  Instead, he simply wanted to be in my arms.

When he and I grabbed a big yellow raft with room for a child and adult and got ready to enter the lazy river, he quickly learned the routine and would react the same every single time.  He would let me put him in the front "seat" of the intertube, and he would cross his legs, reach both arms out to grab the handles, then lay his sweet head down on the front of the tube.  When we got to the area where water sprayed down on part of the river, I always steered his part of the tube away from the falling water; he knew that, and would always turn his head away from the mist and would release the handle on that side so his arm wouldn't get sprayed and then would grasp the handle again once we were past.  He didn't whimper or say he didn't like it, but neither did he express jubilation at being there.  ;-)  He was so calm, so serene, so tranquil the whole time we were there.  So peaceful, in fact, that he didn't have any trouble at all drifting off to sleep in my arms that evening as the water in the pool gently rocked both of us.

Trust, instead of fear.

That, in a nutshell, is how I hope to approach the birth of my baby.  How thankful I am for the experience of watching Shav deal with such an unfamiliar environment, because it gave me the perfect imagery for how I anticipate experiencing this birth.  I don't know how things will go; it is undoubtedly an unfamiliar environment for me, even though I've given birth to four babies previously.  No one can ever predict, with any certainty, how labor will go.  But there is One who knows; and just as Shav so readily put his hand in mine and walked beside me without protest as we moved from one activity to another in the waterpark, and just as he so placidly laid his head on my shoulder and relaxed in my arms in the water, so do I long to put my hand into His as I walk through labor and rest my head on His shoulder when I am growing weary.

Trust, instead of fear.

The labor which I entered with the most trust was Tobin's, and it blew my mind how easy it was (until I lost my focus for the last half hour or so, and then it got crazy difficult).  You'd think after having such a great experience with Tobin's delivery that Shav's would have been a piece of cake; but as a matter of fact, I was dealing with a terrible amount of fear as labor with him started and progressed.  It had only been 18 months since I had given birth to Tobin, after all--not enough time to really forget how painful the end of that labor was!  Besides, I was nearly overcome with fear about life in general and how I would be able to adapt to being a mother of four young ones (two of whom did not yet walk!).  I distinctly remember confessing to Jeff, as we waited in the hospital room an hour or two before Shav was born, how very afraid I was.  Despite the quickness of my labor with him, it was not an easy labor; and I do not want to experience again the deep, dark fear I felt during that time.

I haven't written about my Arise goal for a while; but just because I haven't mentioned it doesn't mean I'm not doing it.  I'm not "perfect" with it, in terms of always getting up at 7:00 AM, seven days out of the week; sometimes life and circumstances get in the way of even the best resolutions.  But I am grateful for the tremendous growth in this area of my life since January 1st.  I'm especially filled with gratitude when I see the fruit of my early morning times with God, one of those fruits being something that relates directly to this post: a stillness of spirit as I think ahead to childbirth.

To be frank, I've been astonished at the lack of fear I've felt as I consider giving birth.  The peace has been astounding; and let me immediately give the glory to God because I know that, in myself, I am a fearful, quaking-in-the-knees woman.  But not now.  Not in this area.  Not as I lean on His strength.

So many verses have come alive to me during this time of preparation (and thank you to those of you who shared verses in the comments on this post!), and I have been loving the sweet communion with my Father that has resulted from my acknowledgement of my upcoming need for help from outside myself.  One of the verses that I've thought about often is Isaiah 26:3, and the words that come automatically to my mind are from the old King James Version, "Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee."  Stayed on Him - yes!  That's it exactly!  That's what I've been doing, have already reaped the benefits from, and long to do for the rest of this pregnancy, all during the delivery, and in the days of adjustment to come after the birth.

But let me be honest: two things shook me in the past several days, and threatened to turn my focus from staying on Him.  First, the incident I mentioned yesterday about Kara.  Suddenly, doubts and fears swept into my mind.  Would I end up in the same situation as she?  Second, the sizable physical discomfort I felt after my headlong dash after Shav on the runaway tricycle.  Would my body recover from that before the hard work of labor began?  Today, as my muscles continued to ache from yesterday's unexpected exertion and as my heart continued to hurt when I thought of Kara, I realized what was going on: I was losing my focus.  The battle to "stay on Him" began again, and the peace that resulted from it quickly swept through my soul.

I don't know how long this peace will last: for another week? until my due date? until labor begins? all through my labor? until the very end when my precious daughter is born? even after her birth when the nurses start using my empty uterus as a punching bag to supposedly make it contract to stop blood loss and I want to yell, "it IS contracting, for pete's sake? can you give me an epidural now for the pain?!"  ;-)  But this I know.  I will appreciate each moment that is flooded by such a sweet sense of tranquility and trust; and if it should start to depart, I will fight for it to return.

An old hymn comes to mind--one that I haven't heard for a very long time.  A phrase from the chorus floats through my head..."stayed upon Jehovah, hearts are fully blest..."  I look up the words and discover this text, written so many years ago by Frances Havergal:

1. Like a river glorious is God’s perfect peace,
   Over all victorious, in its bright increase;
   Perfect, yet it floweth fuller every day,
   Perfect, yet it groweth deeper all the way.
   • Refrain:
     Stayed upon Jehovah, hearts are fully blest
     Finding, as He promised, perfect peace and rest.
2. Hidden in the hollow of His blessed hand,
   Never foe can follow, never traitor stand;
   Not a surge of worry, not a shade of care,
   Not a blast of hurry touch the spirit there.
3. Every joy or trial falleth from above,
   Traced upon our dial by the Son of Love;
   We may trust Him fully all for us to do;
   They who trust Him wholly find Him wholly true.

Trust, instead of fear.  That is what I remember Shav displaying in the waterpark, and that is what I'm eager to demonstrate as the time draws near for this little girlie to be born.  My hand in His, every single step of the way.

~ our talented friend Emily kindly did a photoshoot for us last Saturday evening, and I am THRILLED with the pictures she got...this is just the first that I'll share (hopefully the rest tomorrow in a pregnancy update?)...thank you, Emily, for this moment with Shav that you captured...and I didn't even know you were taking this picture!  :)

Interested in hearing how the hymn I quoted above goes?  Maybe it's a new one for you.  Here's a beautiful instrumental version of it by Chris Rice.

How Thin the Veil

There is a veil that separates death from life; and although as we go through our days, we often act as if the veil is made of reinforced steel and concrete, sometimes we see it as it really is:  a veil made of nothing stronger than tissue paper.  A veil that can be torn apart in a second, without a hint of warning.

My awareness of the fragility of this veil has been heightened this weekend by several incidents that occurred.  First, as Jeff was driving to work yesterday, less than a mile from our house, the back left wheel of his Jeep literally started disconnecting from the rest of the vehicle.  Something about the axle and some other car terms...I don't know...it's all Greek to me.  But what I do know is that he was driving, the wheel started wobbling, and the Jeep wouldn't respond to him; but by God's grace, he was able to pull off the road before the wheel completely fell off and before he lost all power in the Jeep.  Also by God's grace, the two guys who had been driving behind him had noticed the unsteadiness of his wheel, so they were on the alert; and when it started coming off, they pulled over, too, and even stayed with him to help him get it pushed back on somewhat as well as acting as a human barrier between him and the (busy) road as he worked on the wheel.  As it turned out, he called me here at home as soon as it happened, I loaded up the boys and drove down to meet him, he called AAA and they sent a tow truck, the Jeep was towed to the home of one of Jeff's customers (who had been planning to take a look at the Jeep that day anyway, because of some other problems it had been having), and all is well.  But the mind doesn't stop there.  Instead, it plays out What Could Have Been.  Jeff could have lost complete control of the Jeep and wrecked it, maybe flipped it, maybe run into someone or something.  Or the Jeep could have gone "kerplunk" right in the middle of the road (which has a speed limit of 55 miles per hour), and a huge milk truck or poultry truck could have been coming around the curve and run into/over him.  Or...well, who knows what else could have happened...I don't want to think about it anymore.

The veil is thin.

Later in the day, while checking Facebook, I saw a request for prayer for a woman whom I don't know but who, according to Facebook, I have several mutual friends with.  Her name is Kara, and she gave birth to a baby girl last Wednesday, but then developed a bacterial infection called necrotizing fasciitis which attacks the body's muscle tissue.  I don't know the details about when exactly she developed it or where she got it or anything like that, but I do know that she's literally fighting for her life as this infection eats away at her body.

It's not unusual to hear of various tragedies through the medium of Facebook or blogging; and to tell you the truth, I usually say a prayer for the person or family involved but then move on.  There are so many needs after all.  But this one hit my heart and did not let go.  I suppose the fact that Kara delivered a baby girl on Wednesday at our local hospital--on the day that Jeff and I were there in that same hospital for our preregistration appointment--makes it more real to me...not to mention the fact that, if all goes as planned, I myself will give birth to a baby girl there in that same hospital in a matter of weeks.  To go from joyful jubilation at the birth of a daughter to death's doorstep in a matter of hours or days is almost beyond imagining.  It pierces my heart; and rather than simply praying once for her and forgetting all about it, I am moved to continue to lift her up before the throne of God who alone can raise her up from her bed of illness and restore her to complete health and vitality.

The veil is thin.

Both of these situations have weighed heavily on my mind yesterday and today, and I was already planning to write a post about them.  But then, one more incident happened...

The weather was so pleasant this late afternoon that, after quiet time, I encouraged Josiah and David to go outside for some exercise and fresh air, and Tobin and Shav and I followed behind, lagging a bit as we got ourselves ready to go out.  I brought the tricycles (that we normally keep in the living room, so the boys can ride around in the house) down to the garage for Tobin and Shav to each have one to ride on the driveway.  Shav got on his, I paused in the garage just long enough to pick up a scooter that was in the way and put it in a better spot, and then I walked out of the garage to the top of the driveway.  And then my heart stopped.  Our driveway is sort of like a capital T; and instead of seeing Shav riding happily in the top part of the T, he was zooming down the driveway...straight towards the road.  Our driveway is fairly long, and he wasn't to the road yet, but there was nothing in the way to prevent him from going all the way down to the road.  I immediately yelled, "SHAV, STOP!" but my heart broke as I realized that he couldn't.  The downward incline of our driveway, which seems so slight to us bigger folks, was enough to propel his tricycle forward at an increasing rate of speed.  The wheels revolved, the pedals were turning wildly, his little feet were sticking out to each side, and he could not get his feet on the pedals to slow them down.  I started running after him as fast as I could (which, if it had not been such a serious situation, would have been hilarious to see, I'm sure); and simultaneously I called desperately to Josiah to run after Shav, too.  Josiah was closer to Shav than I; and not surprisingly, he ran faster.  But even still, he hadn't caught up with him yet.  I was realizing, with the most sickening feeling possible, that I was too slow and that at present speeds, Shav would get to the road long before I could get to him.  Thoughts became prayers; and in that instant, I was hoping/praying/longing for three things: 1) that I would be able to run faster, 2) that Josiah would catch up to Shav, and 3) that something would get in Shav's way and make him turn.

Something got in Shav's way and made him turn.

You could say it was his hands on the handlebars that made it happen.  You could say there was an unseen (to our earthly eyes) angel standing in his path that made him turn.  However it happened, I do not know; but what I do know is that Shav's tricycle turned to the left, spilling him to the ground.

It was the best tricycle accident ever.

He cried, and I savored the sound.  I finished my wild dash to him, held him in my arms, and savored the feeling.  My tears flowed as freely as his, and I savored the release of emotion, knowing that my tears were for The Tragedy That Might Have Been, and not for The Tragedy That Was.

The veil is thin.

This morning, we heard of the death of a 92-year-old woman, the mother of a family friend.  Since her stroke 11 years ago, she had been unable to walk or talk.  Yesterday, the veil was torn, and she slipped through into eternity--in this case, a sweet relief for one who looked forward to walking and talking with her Savior and with other loved ones who had previously gone through the veil.

But with Jeff, with Kara, and with Shav, a powerful voice rises up inside and screams, "NO!  It is not time for the veil to be torn!"

I know that on the other side of the veil stands the One who passed through the veil and then returned to this side, "so that by his death, he might destroy him who holds the power of death--that is, the devil--and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death" (Hebrew 2:14-15).  I see Him, not as a careless guardian, accidentally allowing the veil to be torn when it shouldn't be, and not as a vindictive judge, randomly piercing the veil and selecting the latest victim to be roughly pulled through.  I know Him.  I know His love and His mercy and His power and His heart.  But I do not fully know His mind or His plans.  However, this I cling to:  "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose" (Romans 8:28).  Even if the outcome had been different for Jeff or Kara or Shav (and even now, the outcome still might be different for Kara, since she's not out of danger yet), I fully believe--AND CHOOSE TO TRUST--that God brings beauty out of tragedy, and joy out of sorrow.

Tonight, as my mind replays the sight of Shav careening down the driveway, my heart clings to the peace that only God can give, and my body?  Well, it aches beyond belief.  There is a reason why eight-month pregnant women (who never exercise) aren't supposed to run at breakneck speeds, especially when they're wearing dress boots with a heel (a low heel, but still).  My muscles are SO sore; and although I'm definitely eager to meet my daughter face to face, I hope she doesn't come for quite a while...at least, until these aching muscles have enough time to recover before the next big thing they're asked to do!  But with every pang of pain (which happens every time I so much as move!), I'm given the opportunity to express again my gratitude to God.

Thank You, God, for protecting Jeff and helping him get safely off the road.

Thank You, God, for saving Shav and making his tricycle turn.

And please, God, be with Kara and heal her body!

Most of all, God, thank You for holding the veil and for not letting it open for any of us until the right time.  The veil is thin; but in Your hands, it is strong.