To Love is To Be Vulnerable

I can't remember what it felt like to be pregnant. I do remember how different I felt, what a process it was, but I can't remember the sensation. I can't remember what Simone felt like as a newborn. They tell you you will forget. I guess I didn't think I would. I have.

Having a child makes me sharply aware of time. Each day is a milestone, each moment passes never to be remembered in the fullness it was experienced.
My girl is walking and talking, developing a personality, and a will. It was only 15 short months ago she was taking residence in my own body. I wonder, when I am close enough to see the snowflake shape in the center of her blue eyes, what she will look like when she is older and who she will become. I wonder what trials we will go through and if she will ever tell me she hates me. I pray and wonder if she will care to serve the God I serve.

 Parenthood is a strange and wonderful thing. I am so aware of the vulnerable condition having her has put my heart in. I have to quickly push away the tightness in my chest at the thought of ever losing her  figuratively or literally. I have to fight the tears at the reality that one day, she won't want me to hold her all the time or kiss her all over. I take pictures and write memories and try to burn the experience in my mind but I know time will pass and memories will fade. I am grateful for these thoughts, as painful as they can be, because they give me the pause I need to be more intentional. These realities get me on the floor to play more, postpone the house work a little longer, walk at a snails pace to watch my not yet two foot tall daughter discover the world from a different perspective.
I agree with C.S. Lewis when he said, "To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable."
I am grateful for the vulnerability of love and the opposing depths that vulnerability provides. 

The Solid Rock

I have had the words of a hymn ringing in my head making their way out of my mouth in a quiet hum (because I don't know all the words) but the refrain rings loud and clear.

"On Christ the solid rock I stand.
All other ground is sinking sand. "

On further research, here is the entire song. I think worth reading over or singing aloud if you know it.

My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus’ blood and righteousness;
I dare not trust the sweetest frame,
But wholly lean on Jesus’ name.

When darkness veils His lovely face,
I rest on His unchanging grace;
In every high and stormy gale,
My anchor holds within the veil.

His oath, His covenant, His blood
Support me in the whelming flood;
When all around my soul gives way,
He then is all my hope and stay.

When He shall come with trumpet sound,
Oh, may I then in Him be found;
Dressed in His righteousness alone,
Faultless to stand before the throne.

Refrain:
On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
All other ground is sinking sand,
All other ground is sinking sand.

I begin this post with this hymn of grace because I need perspective this morning.

I watched a program called "Did 9-11 Affect Your Faith". Face after face came in the frame, some laymen but most leaders of different faiths, saying they could not reconcile this event with a loving God. It made my heart ache because I have had these same thoughts and sometimes still do. I long for God to be able to console each of those hearts individually and personally and in such a real meaninful way. It is one thing to lose a loved one in a tragedy but to lose your faith on top of that is devistating.

Ask the hard questions, God can take it. Get with people who are willing and able to walk through the beautiful depths of truth with you. Wrestling with your faith is important and so worth it.

If any of you ever want to have conversations about life, God, love, truth, etc., I am always up for a coffee date. Let me know.

Great Expectations

Daniel and I have been married for a little over two years and have not seen a vacation since our honeymoon. I am also the busy, working, sleep deprived mom of a teething 14 month old. I was offered the chance at my first girls weekend getaway and quickly said yes and made the arrangements for Daniel to get off work to watch the baby. That original plan was cancelled. Providently I was asked to go to a gorgeous beach house with my family on the very same weekend for basically free. Thank you Lord! Daniel already had the time off and it sounded like a great way to end the summer and was in our budget. As the date approached for our fantastic weekend, I was picturing long romantic walks on the beach and lazy lounging days with my feet in the sand a book in my hand, and a last chance at a bit of color to get me through the winter months. Hurricane Irene had different plans. 



Again, the plans were changed, but not canceled and we were able to re-route our getaway to the mountains of Charlottesville, again for only the price of gas and food. You may be thinking at this point in the story how lucky I am, that I should get out and play the lottery, however this story takes a turn quite quickly.


I am a planning, list making person, and already the upheaval in my plans was making me feel a bit clammy. I put my control issues on the back burner for the hope of a well needed getaway. We finally got the word on Thursday we could go to the mountains on Friday. The news continued to speak of a storm of epic proportions. I got little to no sleep the night before and we wanted to get on the road early so as to avoid the "evacuation" traffic. A clingy little girl helped me to pack in fits and starts. My wonderful husband loaded the car as I sat in near tears on the edge of our bed stating, "I don't even know if I packed underwear". Believe me folks I am DEPENDENT on lists and preparation!
He brought the bag back up and called out to a despondent wife the articles of clothing included in our bag. We finally got on the road at around 8 I think. Simone took a mini nap and then decided to make her displeasure with being confined in a car seat known (for the majority of the trip). We got the news on the way my mom/babysitter was not going to be able to make it due to the storm. We got lost trying to find the place were meant to arrive and spoke to some locals who had accents so think it was unclear if they were still speaking English. We finally made our way to a house that was opened in preparation for us and waited for our hosts to arrive several house later.
Day 1 of our vacation was not as dreamy as I anticipated but I was hopeful for the remaining portion. We did have a wonderful dinner that night while baby was sleeping. My hopes were dashed mere hours later when I had finally laid my head down to rest. I found myself with a screaming, inconsolable, teething terror, who continually recited her three word vocabulary to me from 12 am until 3 am. Finally she joined me in my twin bed to fall asleep precariously close the edge and tested my sleeping reflexes over and over as she violently turned from side to side. Needless to say the 5:30 am wake up of Day 2 of our vacation was not well greeted by me. I requested (probably not as kindly as I could) that my husband wake up with her.
I slept till 7 and had some breakfast. We tried to get a morning nap in much to no avail and decided to venture off without the nap. (Let me just say here there are many first time mom mistakes in this portion of the story)We made our way in the drizzly rain to Montpelier, James Madison's former residence. It was gorgeous but I quickly discovered quiet museums and toddlers don't mix (1st time mom mistake #2). We took a tour around the property and learned about the slaves that really ran the household. This was very interesting but a bit soggy. We then entered into the inside tour of the estate. My aunt kindly offered to watch the baby outside. We made it through the greeting room and dining room before we all decided it was better to go back home and get the little princess a nap. I saw the disappointment on my history loving husbands face.
We got back to the house with the storm pressing in and beautifully ominous skies. Simone went down for a nap easily and we explored a little of the property but the rain started to fall so we settled for watching t.v. (not my idea of an exciting vacation). We did have another lovely dinner that night and some good conversation. We decided to push the two twin beds together in effort to catch a little bit better sleep. I slept in the crack most of the night and little miss was still quite fitful. We awoke to news of flooding and our hosts needing to get back to the office. We quickly packed up and cleaned up to head back home. We  tried to plan it just right but again we headed out without a morning nap. (mistake #3 and strike your out). We tried to stop for lunch and let her stretch her legs only to find most towns had no electricity and therefore nothing was open. (Insert spousal bickering here.)
*Side note - My husband really should be sainted for putting up with me sometimes.
We finally did make it home and just crashed, all of our belongings piled in the middle of our living room. We learned quite a few valuable lessons on this very merry unvacation.
We are going to try for another mini weekend vacation coming up sans baby. I will try to keep my expectations a bit more reasonable this time.