Inside Out

It finally happened. Abigail peed on me while I was changing her diaper. I never thought it would happen, since she's a girl for one, but also because I just thought it wouldn't happen to me. Four months have disappeared quicker than the day can drag on. I don't know if that makes an iota of sense, but to moms who stay home, I'm pretty sure it resonates with them.

This week I have had to face the reality of ceasing to nurse my little one. Somehow my body decided it was time to stop, even though my heart is not ready. For the past week, I've been in denial, drinking liters of water, popping Fenugreek like it was candy, and having a frustratingly hungry little girl try to squeeze a few drops out before feedings. It is time to face the proverbial facts. Although I have had more than 10 weeks of beautiful bonding with Abby, I am struck hard by grief. Having her look up at me with those intriguing, insatiable eyes while she fed on what little sustenance my body could muster up, stirred an enveloping warmth that emanated from my heart to the tips of my fingers and toes. This was solely mine to give her, something no one else could. In my head, I know that she will still be nourished by other means, but in my heart, there's a feeling of loss.

And now I am suddenly transfixed by a worshipful melody that speaks so privately to me. It's as if my Lord has taken my head in both His hands as He looks lovingly into my own intriguing, insatiable eyes. And without a word, He wants to give me peace. He brings me back to a fond memory on day four when I was filled with sorrow, with tears flowing down my cheek, crying out to Him for mercy. When suddenly a miniature hand reached up and began to stroke my chin, as if to say, "it's okay, mama, it'll be okay."

A thousand times I've failed
Still your mercy remains
And should I stumble again
Still I'm caught in your grace
Everlasting, Your light will shine when all else fades
Never ending, Your glory goes beyond all fame
My heart and my soul, I give You control
Consume me from the inside out Lord
Let justice and praise, become my embrace
To love You from the inside out
Your will above all else, my purpose remains
The art of losing myself in bringing you praise
Everlasting, Your light will shine when all else fades
Never ending, Your glory goes beyond all fame
My heart, my soul, Lord I give you control
Consume me from the inside out Lord
Let justice and praise become my embrace
To love You from the inside out
Everlasting, Your light will shine when all else fades
Never ending, Your glory goes beyond all fame
And the cry of my heart is to bring You praise
From the inside out, O my soul cries out
My Soul cries out to You
My Soul cries out to You
to You, to You
My heart, my soul, Lord I give you control
Consume me from the inside out Lord
Let justice and praise become my embrace
To love You from the inside out
Everlasting, Your light will shine when all else fades
Never ending, Your glory goes beyond all fame
And the cry of my heart is to bring You praise
From the inside out, O my soul cries out
Everlasting, Your light will shine when all else fades
Never ending, Your glory goes beyond all fame
And the cry of my heart is to bring You praise
From the inside out, O my soul cries out
From the inside out, O my soul cries out
From the inside out, O my soul cries out.

How loving a father, my Father is.

I Can See Clearly Now

Before Abby invaded our lives, I was given some advice I reflexively agreed with in my heart but did not play out practically in my head. My experientially wise friend told me I needed to keep my husband first before my child. I nodded without hesitation when she emphatically insisted in earnest while looking me straight in the eyes. As if I hadn't heard her the first time, she repeated, "No really, you need to put him first." I got it, sistah; heard you the first time!

Apparently I didn't really hear her...both times.

For those of you who wear spectacles, do you remember the first time you donned those world opening, nerd goggles? I recall how vividly I could see each leaf on the trees we drove past on upstate NY's highways. That's what it's like when I look back in retrospect. Ah, clarity! Too bad it often takes me a moment too long to get the truth into focus.

When I think about the two, earth-shattering fights my husband and I chose to partake in, the two reasons for our emotionally charged outburts seem to turn around and mock me with arms akimbo: cloth diapers and whether to soothe a crying baby at 3am. The details of those arguments now allude me (or at least it's my desire not to remember them), but what strikes me most are the feelings of being misunderstood. I can only speak from down in my bunker that I could not understand why he couldn't see my perspective. I felt like I wasn't being heard. I felt attacked. I felt betrayed! I, I, I! It was so simple. I waded waist deep in selfishness like I was wrapped in a warm blanket on a chilly Saturday morning not wanting to dip my toes into the cold sea of the wood floor. Why can't I help myself? Sigh.

How does God love each of us so completely? Afterall, there are so many of us. I'm just trying to love two people, each like he and she are the king and queen of my world. But I find sometimes I inadvertantly choose one over the other...and of course, at the wrong times.

I'm looking for some tips on how to love better, God. Got any to share?

Money, Money, Money

There's a balance to be struck between living and saving, all in the name of good stewardship. And even as I type this, struggling for a more appropriate word for spending, I lean towards conserving and tucking away those extra bucks for something more need based.

Living in the Bay area, I find it amazing that we can make decisions about purchasing a home upwards of a million dollars, based on a 15 minute staged tour. Agents herd us through like cattle, disguising significant wear and tear, magically transforming inadequacies into character. Sure, we do our homework before promising to plop down the bulk of our savings in one fell swoop, but it is usually with some imagined pressure from other customers willing to make the same rash decision. So people do this everyday here in this area, but after the loans are funded, escrow is closed, and the title is recorded with the county, what's reasonable to sink into your new, old house?

I'd like to think I've never been an intentionally wasteful person, though I have made my share of financial blunders. But I still struggle with what it means to be a good steward of the monies God has given me. I often have mixed feelings about getting a raise, because to whom more is given, more is expected. We've purchased a house with the option of living under one income, so will less be expected? Okay, so maybe that's too legalistic a perspective, but now how tightly do I hold to the smaller resources that aren't so easily replenished on a biweekly basis?

No wonder He has so much to say about finances in that book of His...

Big Shot

Why is it that we feel a universal sense of needing to be in control? The more in control we feel, the more secure and confident we are. And the less at the healm we are, the more anxious and nervous we feel. Sometimes, though, I am scared that that feeling of being in control is a false purveyor of confidence. Perhaps we have such a kindergarten understanding of the situation that we lose the need to take careful, hesitant, and intentional forward steps.

So what should we do when things are out of control? Should we revel in our weakness in faith that the Lord is in the proverbial driver's seat? Or should we be ever more fastidious in securing every strap of our often ill-equipped backpacks?

The Lord has brought me to an interesting place in my life. By the world's standards, it would say that I married later in life, but in retrospect, I think I...er, God...was right on time. I had a lot of maturing to do, so I doubt my marriage would be this good so far, had we pulled the trigger years ago. I did do my share of vying for the steering wheel, the gas pedal, and the gear shifter on the way here, though. But all it did was make me a crazy Asian driver who caused more than one fender bender along the way.

These days I feel less ill at ease being a passenger. With my career in question, the stress of more home ownership looming, and an alien knocking half my internal organs around, it almost feels normal to have lost sight of the reins. My perspective on where I am in the car has dimmed, as evidenced by my recent trip to urgent care to be rehydrated after a bout of gastroenteritis precluded even water from staying down. Three weeks of subsequent infections, a bland, restricted diet, bleeding, and numerous calls and trips to my friendly neighborhood physicians certainly would have sent me into a downward spiral of hopelessness. But surprisingly, my pilot provided more than enough peanuts and beverages on the trip to put me at ease. What a blessing to know the outcome won't even be close to the nightmarish ending my little brain conjured up while I was in terrible pain.

My curiosity still would prefer to know how the author wants this story to play out. But I'm okay not knowing all the details just yet.