A Few of My Favorite Things

--Lilia's words: Moomie = smoothie or movie, Nugoo = snuggle, Yup/Nope = Yes/No, Yupoo/Nopoo = YES/NO!, Inee = "I Need Thee Every Hour", Daippity = Diaper

--Evan gets these HUGE flash smiles after he eats, like "Ah, that was good."

--Lilia gets up on the couch and looks out the window to find Dada when she knows he's coming home from work.

--Everyone under 10 is "baby," everyone with salt-and-pepper hair and/or glasses is "Baba!" or "Mama" (Grandma) and everyone with white hair is "PapapapapaMeme!"

Beloved

"Let me start by telling you that many of the people that I live with hear voices that tell them that they are no good, that they are a problem, that they are a burden, that they are a failure. They hear a voice that keeps saying, 'If you want to be loved, you had better prove that you are worth loving. You must show it.'

But what I would like to say is that the spiritual life is a life in which you gradually learn to listen to a voice that says something else, that says, 'You are the beloved and on you my favor rests.'"

--Henri Nouwen

Jeff and I read an article by Henri Nouwen as a part of a class at our church a few months ago and I have never forgotten it. In the article he said that spiritual disciplines just boil down to making space to hear God's voice telling you that you are the beloved. Sounds so wonderful to bask in the glow of God's love like that, doesn't it?

You would think that would be easier than it is.

This week, I'm sorry to report, hasn't been all about basking. In addition to the glorious moments spent hearing God's voice calling me "Beloved," I've spent a lot of moments hearing voices that call me, "Exhausted," "Utilitarian," and (at my worst), "Worthless." Those voices can become such a spiral because when I feel worthless and that my only value is in what I do (as in, "Just shut up and make dinner."), I don't make room for the most important voice.

It's a loving whisper amid the demanding shouts of, "Prove that you are worth it."

But this morning, I heard it.

Evan Isaiah

I look at this picture, and I still just can't believe you're mine. And I think I should've written this post earlier because you've already taught me so much that I don't even know where to begin.

You were a blessing from the very first moment. We had just lost a baby and we were so sad, but we prayed and our friends and family prayed and God gave us you!

When we were looking for names for you, I remember telling Daddy that what I really wanted was a name that would reflect the great flood of blessings we have had in our life together. Somehow I wanted to show that you were the fulfillment of a beautiful movement of God in our lives. First he brought us to Himself, then to each other. Then He gave us a life and a marriage better than either of us had imagined or ever thought we deserved. Then He gave us Lilia, and we knew in our hearts that there was another blessing He had for us. That blessing was you, Evan Isaiah. And our hearts have overflowed!

Evan means, "God's grace" and Isaiah means, "the Lord helps me."

You have taught me so much about grace and about God's help. I remember being so scared of labor and delivery, scared that I wouldn't be up for the challenge of two babies, scared that I would be too tired, scared that you would have trouble nursing, scared of what the future might hold in every new way.

But you brought with you a whole new movement of God's grace, like a breeze from Heaven, for me. (That part reminded me so much of what your father has brought to my life!) My pregnancy with you was much easier than I thought, the birth was much easier than I thought, you were a great eater from the beginning and you were a great sleeper from the beginning! Silly Mommy for worrying so much, right?

I learned to breathe, pray, take one day at a time. I learned to have faith in God, faith in Daddy, and faith in our family. I learned that almost nothing is as bad as I thought.

And I learned to take time to revel in the glow of all the relationships in our little family. I relish my snuggles with you, and Daddy's too. But I adore the relationship you are building with Lilia. You already love each other so much.

Whenever you cry, Lilia says, "Uh oh! Crying! Baby! Sad! Binky!" If you're crying in your swing she will go to the swing, carefully put your binky back in your mouth, and then give you a little push to get the swing started. When you're happy, she stretches her arms out to you and says, "Hold! Evan!" She loves you so much, and you have big smiles reserved just for her.

We thank God every day for our family, and we can't imagine it without you in it. I love you so much, Son, and every time I look at you I know I have more than I ever thought possible.

Pearls and Swine and Who I Really Am

Okay, so I haven't blogged in a while. Or a long while. What gives?

I've taken a bit of time off to think about what I put "out there." In general I'm a completely open book. (I would be terrible in politics!) But I never really thought about the negative side of my openness until it was brought to my attention via my least favorite way to learn: pain. I put some things out there, someone judged me, my feelings were hurt.

But I love blogging. It keeps me writing. It keeps me thinking. It provides a fabulous record of my kids' babyhood at a time when writing in a baby book can seem overwhelming.

So, as my dear friend Charity reminds me on a regular basis, "What other people think of you is none of your business."

I shall blog on. I have many beautiful blessings to share!