The Wonder of Christmas

How could it be that these wee little hands

Flung stars into space, formed the oceans and lands?

How could this Babe’s tiny cry in the night

Be the same voice that long past said, “Let there be light”?

How could one see, in this Infant’s bright gaze, 

The God of the Universe, Ancient of Days?

How could it be that these sweet tiny feet

Have walked in a place where pure gold lines the street?

How could this small baby boy bear the weight

Of all humankind and their eternal fate? 

The wonder of that Christmas night long ago

Is greater than my mind can fathom or know.

But one thought shines as clear as that bright star of old: This Christ child has rescued my poor sinful soul.

I wrote this poem on Christmas evening this year, as I held my tiny baby, and pondered on Jesus Christ being this small once. So amazing to consider! I pray you all are having a wonderful, peaceful, and joy-filled holiday season. Love,

Mykaela

My Third Natural Home Birth Story

 

It's been too long since I have added anything to this space! Since my last post, we have added a sweet new member to our family. We found out in February that we were expecting our third child in October, and in June found out that it was in fact another little boy. :) I'm very solidly a boy mom now, haha! 

We were so blessed to have a third labor and delivery in the comfort of our home, and I am truly grateful for that opportunity and experience. I don't take for granted that many are not able to do this for one reason or another. I also know how quickly the details of the birth story tend to fade from memory, so I wrote down all I could remember just a few days postpartum this time. Here is the story of how baby Callen came into the world...hope you enjoy!

Callen's Birth Story

What a strange, long drawn out birth story our little Callen Uriah ended up having! I'm honestly not even sure exactly where to start telling, because there were so many false starts and unexpected twists and turns to it.

My pregnancy with Callen was just truly a dream compared to both of the other boys, but especially compared to Nate's pregnancy. I had almost no complications or issues whatsoever, and the time seemed to fly by all the way up until 35 weeks when baby dropped quite a bit and I started having prodromal labor. Every evening for several hours, I would have stronger contractions that would come and go at fairly regular intervals, sometimes even 10 minutes apart. Week after week went by with no change, except that my feet swelled to such proportions that for the last 5 weeks of the pregnancy, I could wear no shoes but flip-flops (and even those were getting too tight at the end! ;P) Still, I felt like I was pretty prepared mentally for the “contractions-forever-and-ever-amen”, since it happened with both of my other pregnancies as well, and things looked totally normal with me and baby, so I wasn't handling it too badly.

My technical due date was October 28th, but I had actually gotten the 20th from a couple different sites, and there was never a point in the entire pregnancy that I was NOT measuring 2-3 weeks ahead, so I was honestly very much expecting that I would have baby sometime around the middle of October. My midwife, Sabrina, was leaving town for a while on October 16th, so I scheduled an appointment on the 11th (37w, 5d) with Dr. Melissa, our chiropractor/acupuncurist in St. Louis who I saw right before going into labor with Nathaniel. I was really hoping that an adjustment and acupuncture from her would kickstart things, and I'd be able to deliver with Sabrina since she was my midwife for both the other boys. The adjustment went well, and baby dropped even lower, so I went home and did the Miles Circuit, walked a bit, and prayed that things would get going over the weekend.

Well, that night I got up to use the bathroom, and distinctly felt some leakage, along with a smell that I thought I remembered from previous pregnancies of amniotic fluid. I laid back down to rest until morning, not really getting any more sleep, haha! That day was our 6th anniversary, and I was happily resigned to having an anniversary baby, since it meant I'd be done being pregnant! ;D However, after getting up and going about the morning, getting everything ready for the birth, I'd only had a few strong contractions, and nothing really more intense than I'd already been having. We sent the boys to Luke's parents' house after their naps, and things still didn't pick up. All day. Finally around 7 pm, Sabrina came and did a swab, which showed up negative for amniotic fluid. Our best guess was that I had a small leak up high in the amniotic sac, that sealed itself back over throughout the day. I was SO sad and disappointed, and making the mental switch from “Today is baby day for sure!” to “Going to church tomorrow like all other Sundays” was incredibly difficult. From that day, time seemed to grind to a screeching halt, and drag slower than I have ever experienced before. Every night I went to bed disappointed that labor hadn't started during the day, and every morning I woke up disappointed that labor hadn't started in the night. I tried SO hard to keep a good attitude throughout all of it, but I definitely had many moments of struggle as day after day went by and I continued to get bigger and bigger!

6 days passed. On October 18, I had an appointment with Chelsea, my backup midwife. (She is so sweet and I truly loved having her! I just had hoped for Sabrina since she'd delivered the other two. :) Chelsea was checking on baby's position, and had her hand JUST above my pubic bone—as low on my belly as it was possible to get without hitting the actual bone. She said, “Ok, so what I'm feeling here is his SHOULDERS.” No wonder I felt like I had a bowling ball falling out of me 24/7...I practically did!! I found out at this appointment that Sabrina would only be back in town for 2 days before leaving again for several weeks, so I kind of gave up hoping for her to attend me, since it didn't seem like things were going anywhere fast.

October 21 came around, and my body started to clean out...I spent a lot of time in the bathroom that day. This was encouraging to me, as the same thing had happened right before I went into labor with Nate, but I was having a hard time having hope over anything labor related at this point. The next morning, contractions settled into a pattern of every 10 minutes. Not increasing intensity, but just like clockwork, EVERY 10 minutes. All. Day. Long. I took an Epsom Salt bath at 8:30 pm, and frequency increased to 5-7 minutes apart. Went to bed and slept fairly well throughout the night. Got up the next morning to contractions 10 minutes apart again, nonstop. I felt like I was going a little bit crazy, honestly. I couldn't believe that they could just continue for 2 straight days that often, and not turn into the real thing!! I was now at 39 weeks, 1 day. At my appointment in the afternoon, I had Chelsea check me, and I was 50% effaced, 3cm dilated. Measuring at 43 weeks, and feeling every inch of it. ;P By the end of that day, they were gone, and the next day I was back to my typical amount of prodromal labor—a couple dozen contractions throughout the day.

Two more days passed. Late evening on October 26, they picked back up again, and I had no emotion about it except extreme depression, because literally hundreds of contractions had done practically zip, and I was not convinced that my body ever would go into actual labor on its own! However, I woke in the night to a very strong one, and couldn't go back to sleep because they were around 4-5 minutes apart and quite intense. Had some bloody show at this point, which was the first sign at all that I'd had of actual cervical dilation. Around 7 am, Dad came and took the boys, and they went to church. By 9 am, my contractions were gone. Just nothing happening. Watched church services, took an Epsom Salt bath hoping to start them up again, but no go. Labor was gone. I had a huge emotional struggle at this point...I could NOT believe that this was happening again! I cried until I couldn't cry anymore, but finally had to pull it together, since the only thing happening now was a headache. ;) My sweet husband was such a dear support to me, and took me out on a beautiful walk in the autumn woods, then to a Mexican restaurant afterwards. Mom and Dad graciously kept the boys, in hopes that having them stay away would help me not to stall again.

Contractions picked up again around 6:00, and became quite intense by 11:00, but did not settle into a good pattern. There were still longer breaks in between. It was a hard decision to go to bed, as these were the strongest contractions I'd had yet, and I was afraid I would once again stall out, but I knew I couldn't just run myself into the ground either. Went to bed, and was awakened by strong contractions all throughout the night 1-2 times per hour. I once again stalled out in the morning, and had nothing happen all day Monday, the 28th, my due date. Chelsea came in the afternoon, and did a membrane sweep. I was dilated solidly to 4cm, lost my mucus plug, and baby was between -1 and -2 station. It was such a hard mental game at this point, because I knew that if contractions could just start and NOT GO AWAY, I would be having the baby probably pretty quickly! But I just could NOT seem to get to that point for anything! For Pete's sake, I'd been dilated between 3 and 4 for over a week now?! I was getting so exhausted from two nights of pretty hard labor, and the mental/emotional toll it was taking to be so close, yet seemingly so very far away. 

That evening around 5:30, when contractions once again picked up to hard, painful proportions, I was just angry at them, honestly. I decided that I didn't want to think about anything anymore, and started making pretzel croissants, lol! I wanted to bake something complicated and time consuming, to keep me from paying any attention to “labor”. All throughout the baking process, they continued so strong, even getting to the point that I started vocalizing a bit through them. They were somewhere around 6 minutes apart at this point. My labor was SO touchy. We finally came to realize that even when Luke (as in, my husband, the one I love and trust most in this world, and definitely wanted him with me?!) was in the room with me, my contractions would space back out further again!! So after I baked my croissants, (which turned out delicious, by the way ;P) I went into the bedroom, and began settling into a pattern by myself.

I would sit on the ball and sway while listening to music (I listened to all of Dan Forrest's new composition, “Creation” while laboring in the bedroom). When it had been 4 to 5 minutes, I would stand up and rock back and forth, which would trigger a contraction. If it was an especially hard one, Luke would come in and do some hip pressure, but otherwise he stayed out in the dining room so I could just keep things going. He felt terrible about this, but I kept reassuring him that this was apparently just what my body needed to do this time, and as much as both of us might dislike it, at least they seemed to be getting stronger! It was so frustrating not knowing if purposely causing myself all these incredibly painful contractions was actually DOING anything, or if it was going to once again be completely futile.

I kept this pattern going until 10 pm, at which point I had several that were so hard and long that I told Luke, “I feel like this is close to transition, but I don't even want to think that, because I'm still afraid I'll stall out. My point of reference feels like it's just gone. But this is so hard.” Luke started filling the tub, but even that was worrying me, because I wasn't sure I was in real labor. Looking back, it's kind of funny to me, because I was within 3 hours of baby's arrival. But hope deferred had messed me up, lol!

I just wanted a little break at this point, so I got into the shower. I did not in fact get a break from that. ;P They picked up incredibly fast while I showered, coming every two minutes like clockwork. For reference, I have never had contractions two minutes apart, in either of my other labors. Even when I was 10cm dilated and pushing with the other boys, contractions never got closer together than 4-5 minutes, so this was new territory for me. When I got out of the shower, I asked Luke to call Chelsea to come. I had been determined not to call her to come until I was sure I was in transition, and I was so afraid that I still wasn't anywhere close, but things were just SO intense, I felt like I needed to go ahead and do it. I was still thinking that Chelsea would probably show up, and I would stall just from her being there. Thank The Lord, this wasn't the case...it was finally, FINALLY go time for real!!!

Chelsea packed her things and came within half an hour, and when she arrived I was still in full on crazy contractions every two minutes. She observed 2 or 3 of them, and after one, I said, “Oh my goodness, all I want is to get in the tub!” I had been determined not to do so until I was ready to push, but the thought of lying down to get my dilation checked at this point was almost unthinkable to me. Chelsea said, “Mykaela, I truly think it's TIME for you to get in the tub! These are really, really, intense...I don't think labor is going anywhere this time!” I wasn't fully convinced, but opted to go ahead and get in. The water felt SO good! I had 3, maybe 4 contractions in the tub, (still having to “force” them to come by getting on hands and knees), and my body started to push during one. I was sooo excited by this, because I knew that feeling!! I really was IN LABOR! :D (So hilarious that I didn't believe it until I was literally pushing. ;) 

One other funny thing that happened right at this time was that I looked up at the clock, and noticed that it was exactly midnight. I said, “Welp, sorry, Mama!” The 28th was my mom's birthday, and she'd been really hoping I would have baby on that day. ;) Literally seconds after I said that was the contraction that I started to bear down.

After that, things are a blur in my head...when I started to push, I got almost no breaks until he was born 40 minutes later. Contractions were between 45 seconds and a minute apart, and even in between contractions, Cal was moving down very noticeably, so it was INSANELY intense even when I wasn't actively pushing. The midwife assistant, Marlene, showed up at about 12:20, and was only there for about 20 minutes before baby was born. Shortly after she arrived, I was in the thick of a hard contraction, and said, “I just want someone else to do this part for me!” Chelsea, Marlene and Luke all laughed, and I think Marlene said something like, “I wish we could all take a turn for you!” I reached down at one point and felt the top of his head just inside, and that was very encouraging, but also terrifying, because I knew the ring of fire was imminent. That is definitely the part I dread the most about labor!! It started to burn so bad, and at one point I thought for sure his head had surely been born. I desperately asked if that was so, and Chelsea said no, but he was close. I reached down, and realized he hadn't even fully crowned yet. I said, “Oh man...I thought he was so much farther than that!!” I had to fight the urge to just “give up” at that point, (irrational as that thought was...obviously there was no going back! ;P) But I thought to myself, “The only way out is through.” Then I pushed with everything I had, and his head was finally born! That was such a moment of triumph, because I knew the very hardest part was over, and he was so close. Just a few seconds later, he made his rotation and came out fully, being caught by his Daddy. 

As they brought him up, the cord was tugging and hurting, and I gasped that it must be short, but quickly realized it wasn't actually a short cord, it was wrapped around him in a way I'd never seen before. It was around his neck once, and then wrapped under and around one shoulder/armpit like a backpack. Luke and Chelsea did some gymnastics with him, twisting him around to get it untangled.

He didn't have one bit of vernix on him, confirming that he was definitely at least full term, but likely even a bit over. His cry, when it came, was crazy high-pitched, he sounded like a baby eagle. ;) I couldn't believe how tiny he felt and looked!! I had been expecting a very big baby, at least 9 pounds. As we waited for the placenta to come, I said, “That was so fast! I mean it took weeks but it was so fast!” Ha. It truly had felt incredibly fast compared to my two previous labors, especially the whirlwind pushing stage...both other boys I'd pushed for 2 ½ hours.

After the placenta came, (man, I really hate that part!) we cut his cord and handed him off to his daddy while I took a wonderful hot shower. After that, I got into bed to rest, nurse, and enjoy the fruit of all the long, LONG labors!! Chelsea and Marlene cleaned everything up, started a load of laundry, and made me a plate of scrambled eggs. I always say that the meals you eat in the first week after giving birth are some of the best meals ever to exist. ;) Those scrambled eggs that my husband fed to me at 3 am, with my new baby in my arms, were the most gourmet eggs in the world. ;)

Chelsea did Callen's newborn exam, and everything looked perfect. He weighed 8lbs, 6oz... 2oz less than Nathaniel did when he was born, despite Callen being born 2 weeks later. He was 20 inches long, which I think was why he looked so tiny, he was fairly “tall” for his weight.

I was checked for tearing, and only had very minimal damage, similar to what I had with Nathan. I didn't even end up using the peri bottle more than 3 or 4 times, I healed so quickly and had so little pain/burning. As expected and dreaded, the afterbirth cramps were more intense than ever before, and were absolutely horrible for the first 3 or 4 days. I was very glad when I was able to make it past that hurdle and spend time resting and enjoying baby without so much pain!

The boys have so enjoyed their new brother, and watching Luke become a daddy again has made me fall in love with him all the more. :) I am so, so glad to have this sweet baby on the outside after such a long wait, and to be NOT PREGNANT!! ;P My feet almost immediately went down to their normal size after he was born, and having non-blimpy feet is the best thing ever after 6 weeks of severe swelling. ;)

Out of curiosity, I asked Sabrina about Callen's strange nuchal cord. I'm hoping to get my doula certification someday, Lord willing, and thus have done literally hundreds of hours of research and study on all things labor/birth/postpartum...I've never once seen a cord wrapped in quite that way before! Sabrina said that it is indeed quite rare, she's not seen it often at all. The last client of hers that had a baby with that type of nuchal cord ended up having a hospital transfer and cesarean, because the cord was too short to allow for the baby to descend. I was so grateful that Callen's was long enough and I was able to have him at home! God is so good!

I think that's about the whole of it...If you've made it through this very long story, thank you for reading! :)

God bless,

Mykaela

The Homemaker's Christmas Creed

 

Just a semi-humorous, but mostly serious series of things I've been thinking about lately. :)

Though I sing all the Christmas carols with the sweetest voice at church, and do not choose to speak gently and with charity to my children and husband, I am become as an off-key piano, or a harsh, grating trumpet blast.

And though I give the perfect gifts, and choose the most fancy stocking stuffers for everyone on my list, and wrap everything with gorgeous bows and paper, and give not the gift of charity, I am nothing.

And though I cook the best holiday foods, invite all the people over, attend all the gatherings dressed to the nines, and have the most Pinterest-worthy decor and cozy aesthetic all throughout my house, and have not the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, it profiteth me nothing.

Charity chooses to be still when a relative says something insensitive at Christmas dinner. Wipes the child's nose for the umpteenth time without complaint. Charity doesn't look at the gift someone else received with envy and discontent. Nor at her own gifts with pride and entitlement.

Charity does not speak loud and brashly at the Christmas party, giving others no chance to get a word in edgewise. Does not focus on her own desires and refuse to notice when her family needs to take a step back and rest. Does not explode in anger when the child causes her to run late for choir practice. Gives her husband loving grace and the benefit of the doubt if he speaks shortly.

Rejoices not in the selfish consumerist mindset so common in our world, but rejoices in the simple joys and blessings God has poured out upon her.

Bears all the inconveniences and heartaches that can sometimes mingle with the joy of the holiday season. Believes the best about her loved ones, instead of assuming evil motives. Hopes in the soon coming of her Saviour, and rejoices in His precious birth. Endures with patience the thousands of questions from her children, "Is it Christmas yet??". 

Charity never faileth. But whether there be lovely decorations, they shall be messed up by little ones. Whether there be delicious baked goodies, they shall be burnt accidentally. Whether there be fun plans, they shall be unexpectedly interrupted. 

For nothing is ever "perfect" in our fallen world...but with God's peace, joy, and charity in our hearts from His Spirit within us, we can make this holiday season special in many simple, beautiful ways. We can shower Christ's love on those around us, and remind them of the Babe that came to Bethlehem, to save His people from their sins. Emmanuel. Love Incarnate. Charity personified. The reason we celebrate this beautiful season, despite imperfect circumstances. He is worthy of all the worship and praise.

Mykaela

Growing Through the Stones

 A few days ago, as I was leaving our little apartment for the day, I looked down and saw this sweet little pansy, just growing right through the cracks of the paving stones. It was so unexpected, such a beautiful little spot of sunshine on the pavement, that I had to snap a quick picture before going.

I realize this post will probably sound a little cliche. But I kept thinking about that little flower all throughout the day, and wanted to write about it. 

How do I respond when God has me in a hard place? A place that it seems my margins have disappeared, and I'm left with pressures such as I've never experienced before? How do I respond when I feel like I don't have room to breathe? 

May I, like this little flower, choose to flourish and shine bright for others, even in the tightest and hardest spaces. May I push steadfastly toward the Son (spelling intended ;), not letting my seeming lack of resources discourage me. May I trust in the nourishment and grace that is given me, day by day and moment by moment, not fretting over if or when my reserves will run dry. May I be a person that makes others stop and think of their Creator.

Mykaela

Life in Berlin

Hello, all!

Well, here we are in northern Berlin, our home away from home for the next 2.5 months. We have been here for nearly three weeks now. I wanted to write a little update post with a few random thoughts and observations about living in Germany, (albeit short term). These are in no particular order. :)

1. I have actually come to enjoy hanging out the laundry. I thought that would be one of the biggest annoyances about living in Berlin, but really, it hasn't been bad at all! Yes, it takes a lot longer for clothes to dry, especially if it's humid out, but somehow the rhythm of slowing down to hang them out and fold them off of the clothesline is something I've rather enjoyed so far. :) I have a feeling this verdict is heavily affected by the fact that I actually have a covered back porch where I can hang the clothes, haha! If I was continually watching for rain, I would have a hard time getting ANY clothes dried, because it has rained off and on nearly every day since we came!

2. Speaking of weather, God has blessed incredibly in that area. It has gotten up to 80 degrees ONE day since our arrival. Every other day it has been highs of 65-70 degrees. SO nice! This morning it was actually 59, with a stiff breeze and high humidity, so it was actually chilly out...in August!? We have no AC, and were expecting it to be miserably hot in the house nearly the whole time we were here, so every beautiful day is an absolute gift that we are enjoying thoroughly. 

3. There are some really surprising things that you can't find here, or are expensive to the point of being impractical to buy. Brown sugar. Chocolate chips. Molasses. Vanilla. All of these are things that I totally took for granted as nearly universal staple ingredients! How do they do without chocolate chip cookies?? ;) 

4. That being said, the BREAD here is the best I've ever had in my entire life. There is one particular type that is croissant dough, boiled in soda water like you do when you make soft pretzels, then baked. So it tastes like a pretzel on the outside, and the inside is perfectly buttery, flaky croissant. It's every bit as delicious as it sounds, and we are probably eating far too many of them, but they cost around $0.40, so it's easy to justify, lol.

5. We are walking, a LOT. To give an idea, we've been here just under three weeks, and I've tracked nearly 60 miles of walking on my phone. :O We've been averaging 5-6 miles per day all told. Depending on where we are needing to travel, we walk between 1 and 2 miles to get to bus and train stops, transfers, etc. The buses aren't always super reliable, so several times now we have missed one (or it just hasn't showed up), so we ended up walking the route that we would have taken the bus. It's been really good for us though, both Luke and I have lost weight! He actually had to cut a new hole in his belt the other day. Yay for working off all the bread we are enjoying, haha!! :D

6. Berliners LOVE their flowers and gardens, and it is sooo beautiful to see! I love the huge variety of fruit trees, flowering bushes, roses, etc. that we see as we walk. I've been trying to take a few pictures of them, and may make a post with some of those at some point. 

7. It's hard to describe how utterly massive this city is. A few days ago, we were out doing outreach, putting mailers and John/Romans into mailboxes. We walked nearly 5 miles going up and down driveways, stairs, streets, etc., and hit about 500 mailboxes. When we finished we were marking off what we had done, and it was a TINY little triangle of space on a partial map of Pankow. Pankow is one district. Out of 12. :O If you start to think about the vast task of reaching 8 million people in the greater Berlin area, it is overwhelming in the extreme. However, God hasn't asked us to personally reach every person, only to do what we can with the resources we have and the strength He gives us. So that's what we are trying to do! We've been busy preparing for a large outreach effort at the end of August, when a group is coming from the States to help. We have been assembling 15,000 tract packets to hopefully get out during those 10 days, at the end of which there will be a special meeting. We are praying for God to bring visitors and fruit from the labors!

8. I FINALLY feel like I'm starting to get the hang of grocery shopping in German grocery stores. It's still a bit of an overwhelming experience sometimes, because most things have no English on them, and the store is laid out completely different than stores I'm used to. Plus, like I mentioned earlier, several times I've searched high and low for something, only to be told later that it can't be gotten here, lol! But I do think I'm starting to get better at meal planning and buying within a good budget here. It's very different from home, because I have almost no food storage in our Airbnb, besides the countertop. So I'm doing what many Germans do, and walking to the grocery store every 3-4 days with my reusable grocery bags on my arm, and my water/juice bottles ready to return for my deposit. ;) When shopping, I try to be conscious of the fact that I have to carry the heavy bags back home half a mile, so I am careful how much liquid stuff or flour/sugar I buy in one trip, due to weight. I think I'm getting it, though! :)

9. A full night's sleep is a treasure of great price. ;) Our boys have taken a very long time to adjust fully to the 7 hour time difference. Also, Nathaniel is naturally an insomniac, and we now sleep in pretty close quarters (his bed shares a wall with our bedroom). So far, we have only had one entire night of no boys screaming or bouncing against the wall. That's been a challenge, for sure, and we actually ended up separating the boys so they wouldn't wake each other up so often. That helped a little, but things are still pretty rough at night for Nate (and us by extension ;). So we'd sure appreciate prayers in that regard!

10. I absolutely love the house we are staying in. It is a fully detached house at the back of our host's property, in a lovely and quiet area of Berlin. It has tons of big windows, a fully covered but breezy back porch with a table and chairs where we eat often, a ping pong table, TWO bedrooms and bathrooms, a nice sized kitchen...it's an incredible place, especially considering that we originally were looking at having to stay in a one room studio apartment while we were here. Our host has been beyond kind and welcoming to us, and is actually interested in hearing more about the work we are helping with in Berlin, so I am very excited to be able to talk with her more about spiritual things! Please pray for Viola and Andre, and their three kids. I am so hoping and praying that we will see them saved, baptized, and growing in The Lord! 

11. The coffee here is......sad. :( You'd think European coffee would be great, but it's actually really hard to find a good cup of coffee anywhere! Almost all the coffee shops sell super watery, weak coffee that is from a Keurig type machine. The other day, I took a half hour train trip to go to a shop that actually had an espresso machine like the coffee shops in the states. ;P It still wasn't the greatest, but definitely better than most of what we've been able to get here. I think I miss my coffee machine more than any other home comfort. ;) It's being looked after and enjoyed by my sweet sis-in-law and her husband, so that makes it a little easier, haha!

12. God is growing us in many ways through this trip. The travel itself was truly nightmarish...the boys didn't sleep a wink for almost 18 hours of the 22 hour travel time, and Luke had just come out of a surprise surgery for kidney stones the DAY before we left, so he had a stent placed and was in a ton of pain the entire trip. The adjustment has been challenging. We miss home and family, a lot. BUT, God has also answered so many prayers in so many unexpected ways, and has carried us through every difficulty, and I don't want to lose sight of that! I've been trying hard to be grateful for all the many ways He has provided for us and worked in our lives. I haven't always succeeded in that, and God has really revealed to me lately how selfish I can be as a wife and mother. :( It can be so easy to let my own comfort or convenience become more important to me than training my children well, or cherishing my husband. By God's grace, I'm working on this every day. I know He isn't finished with us here, and I pray we will be open to however He chooses to use us!

That's all for now...I love you all, and am so deeply grateful for each one that has supported and lifted us up in prayer! That means the world to us!

Mykaela

This is Motherhood

 Sometimes I look at the life I am living with wonder and astonishment. I have heard many say that motherhood is hard...and unlike those that told me marriage would be hard, (see this post), I actually kind of agree with the "Motherhood is hard" group. It's hard, and crazy, and very, very chaotic at times. And amazing. I cannot let myself miss that part, too. 

Because sometimes frustration bubbles up inside me at the blotch of snot that stains the front of nearly every dress I wear, from my two toddlers wailing into my lap over their many real and perceived woes. Or how sore and tired my back is, all the time, from hefting 30 pound kiddos many dozens of times per day. Sometimes I just want to kiss my husband and have a two minute conversation with him without hearing angry screams over the refusal to share a cardboard box that is somehow the best toy in all the world. (MUCH better than the approximately 3,768 actual toys that my children own.) Sometimes hearing "MAAAMAAA!!" while I'm taking a 2 minute bathroom break makes me want to run away and hide.

But then...oh, but then...

My youngest turns around in a patch of sunlight on my kitchen floor, and looks at me with huge, sparkling blue eyes, chubby pink cheeks, and a tiny cowlick curling up over one ear, and my heart melts. My two year old says, "I wuv you!" in that utterly endearing way of his, and I could weep for love of him. They give each other a squishy brother to brother hug when one of them gets up from a nap, and I want to gather them up in my arms, snot and all, and never let them go. 

I never expected the suddenness of the mindset shift some days. Don't misunderstand me: I am not excusing my own sin when I shout, "Don't shout at your brother!!" instead of going into the other room and speaking quietly. But sometimes I can swing so quickly from utter irritation over training and disciplining for what seems like the ten thousandth time that day, to feeling utterly knocked over by the weight of the blessings God has poured out on me. 

This is the life. This is the life I dreamed of as a little girl, the life I prayed for as an awkward and frizzy haired teenager with braces, the life I cried with longing for as I neared the age when it would be a possibility.

I prayed so long and so hard for the things I now hold in my hands. 

Please, God...help me not to forget this. Help me to see Your fingerprints in my life. Help me to remember Your mercies to me. Don't let me miss these precious moments, right here and now, because I'm too busy having a pity party for the hour of sleep I lost last night.

I want to remember everything. Looking over as my fingers type these words, and seeing the man of my dreams sitting cross legged on the floor, building the most awesome Lego marble coaster ever, as Eben avidly tests it out over and over again. The way the sun warms my arms through the window and the shadows of the trees outside dapple the floor. Hearing Nathaniel hum a little song to himself as he plays. I want to view this journey of motherhood as a tool God is using to sanctify me, a good and precious gift from the Father of lights, not just something I have to struggle through. I want to choose joy, even when a nap sounds better. I want to say yes to my family over myself. I want to seek after God's face, and fill my cup from His Word, so that I can pour out to my loved ones with sweet abandon. I want others to look at my life and say,

"There is a woman who loves her God. There is a woman who loves her family. There is a mother."

Mykaela

The Hands of My Love

Those Dear Hands...

I remember the very day we first met, we were sitting at the kitchen table playing a game with my parents. I asked you how you got the scar next to your thumb, though I wasn't sure if that was something I should ask about, having just met you. Even then, I remember thinking that your hands looked so strong and kind. 

Those Dear Hands...

I'll never forget when you slid that gorgeous, intricate diamond ring onto my finger after asking me to be your wife. You took my left hand in yours for just a moment, and I knew that I would say yes a million times over to being yours for the rest of my life.

Those Dear Hands...

I remember the morning of our wedding, a couple hours before the ceremony, when I reached around the corner of the wall (so you couldn't see me! :) to take your hand as we prayed together. It was the first time we'd held hands, and mine fit so perfectly into yours.

Those Dear Hands...

They gripped mine with seemingly inexhaustible strength and comfort as I agonized to bring our sweet babies into the world.

Those Dear Hands...

They held me close and so gently wiped my tears as I wept over the way I didn't recognize myself in the mirror anymore. And even many more times since, when I have wept over much sillier things than that.

Those Dear Hands...

They work so hard every day to provide for us. And yet they are always ready to help me with the dishes or a diaper change when I'm weary.

Those Dear Hands...

I watch them as you play with our boys, tumbling their little bodies around in pillow fights and tickle fights. As you teach their much smaller, chubbier, and less coordinated hands how to catch a ball out of the air. 

Those Dear Hands...

They are always ready to do a kindness for others. Always ready to reach across in the car to take my own. Always loving and gentle.

My dear husband, your hands are a sweet reminder to me of the hands of my Saviour. They are Christlike hands, for with them you do so many Christlike things. And I am deeply, richly blessed to hold your hand in mine, till death do us part.

All my love,

Your MK