Pregnancy, House, and other things Update

I had my 31 week appointment yesterday. Jayda is measuring in at 32 weeks and looking great! She is lying sideways which we knew could happen because of the septum in my uterus (it kind of restricts her room). So, if she doesn't turn herself by 37 weeks they are going to try and turn her, which could be more difficult because of her already restricted room. If she hasn't turned by 37 weeks and they can't turn her then we will schedule a C-section. We'll also have another ultrasound in a couple of weeks just to make sure she is still growing properly as the combination of having the blood clot for so many weeks + the fact that I have a septum could make it a little more difficult in these last weeks for her to get the nutrition she needs. All in all Dr. Goerish does not seem worried as right now she is growing just fine! I'm not really worried at all, just so happy to be this far.

As far as for how I'm feeling... I feel great! I have tons of energy... enough that I'm back to work part-time with the kids at Grace Refuge! Enough that I'm going on hour long walks several times a week. So, I'm hoping this keeps up as I kind of feel like I'm making up for all that lost time I spent on the couch in my second trimester :)

Oh and the house...? Everything went through and we signed on April 14th the day before our taxes were due (we needed the paperwork for the 1st time Homebuyers Credit). So we're all settled in and still finishing up some projects in the basement and the outside of the house but nothing that has to be done anytime in the near future. Jayda's room is coming along... but I don't want to post pictures until it's done :)

Our life is beginning to be very full again. I'm back with kids and chaos and after I have Jayda I plan on splitting my time between Grace Refuge and a friend of mine who needs some help with her new Daycare. Micaiah was just offered a full time position with benefits at Home Depot (he has only been there about two months!) so we are seriously praying about that. We're taking classes at the hospital each week, wrapping up with our small group, and getting ready for the many showers, graduations, etc happening in the next couple of months.

From the outside our life probably looks normal and boring. Right now... we're incredibly thankful for that :) Because even in the midst of fairly normal days... and now what is a fairly normal pregnancy... we are still watching Him move on our behalf in ways that take our breath away.

He has been so faithful.

Much Love, Much Life, Much Grace,
Kayla

I'll tell Her.

I wasn't going to go last night...

I was running late... my hair was a mess... and I was putting on make-up and drinking a Dr. Pepper in between stop lights. My van was still full of the laundry I'd spent the day doing (we don't have a washer right now) piled high in baskets. The service started at 7pm. and I hadn't gotten home until 6:50. I fed the dog, took her out, put on a clean shirt that I realized didn't fit.... thought about just staying home... put on a different shirt with some sandals and ran out the door. Something told me I needed to go.

When I entered the sanctuary the service had already started. It was dark... lit only by candlelight.

It was beautiful... the entire service... breathtaking really. The words spoken... words about redemption... words about love that reached out and bridged the biggest gap we've ever known... words about radical living and the foolishness of the cross. The songs that were sung... songs of how our ashes have been turned into beauty... songs about the road of death He walked so we'd never have to... songs about the price He paid because of love...

At the altar lay wine and bread... and I watched in silent awe as slowly people began to get up... walk to the alter... and fall to their knees.... and remember. A body broken... blood shed... a veil torn... so that we in our sin and our shame and our failure might see a glimpse of His face... might know His heart for His people.

I could barely breathe as I watched a young father walk to the altar with his son. They knelt together before their God... the father with his arm around his son. And suddenly tears spilled down my face....

How did it feel to give your son for us that would reject you... us that would fail and run and compromise? Did your heart break as his blood spilled and the mockers taunted? Did images of his life run through your mind? Did you weep at His suffering?

I sat in that sanctuary... watching that father... feeling my own child kick and move within me...

Lord how did she feel when she watched the nails pierce His hands? Did her heart break as she saw the child she'd carried... the child she'd raised... the child she'd loved... give His life for those who didn't understand? Did all of the moments she'd pondered in her heart come flooding back into tears of grief as she watched the life of her son slip away?

I thought of the last few months and how much we love our daughter... a sweet baby girl who we haven't even brought into this world yet. I thought of how hard we've fought... how hard we've prayed... how we've cried... how we've hoped... how we've dreamed for her life. How, even now, I couldn't even imagine loosing her.

I was one of the last to make my way to the altar. And as I knelt before Him the moments that I have pondered in my heart... the ones that have made up my life with Him... the ones that have made my life. They all came back.


The night I lay on a cold basement floor and told Him I loved Him... the night I told Him I didn't know much about the bible and there was much of life I didn't understand. I knew only that this life was hard and that there was a huge hole in my heart.

The moment I felt that hole in my heart heal. I remember weeping because I'd never felt so alive.

The old gravel road I walked those days after I first gave my heart to Him and all the things we talked about... all the dreams I laid before Him.

The first time I knelt before an altar... much like the one before me at that moment... and fully realized what He gave.

The moment I held a starving baby and realized how deeply He loves and how desperately He aches for His own.

All of my broken promises... every time I ran... every time I made Him smaller than He was...
All of the moments I've beheld him... known Him... felt Him... the moments I have stood on Holy Ground. The moments I've known the sacred amidst the common and the holy amidst the profane.

Every middle of the night conversation... the moment I was able to stand at my brother's grave and not be angry anymore... walking down the aisle to marry Micaiah... sitting underneath a blanket of African stars wondering what was to come... Margy and I praying the first day I came to work at Grace Refuge... the ways those kids have brought me to my knees... The moment I stood in one of the most beautiful cathedrals in all the world and realized He did not dwell there. The people I've met whose hearts have given me glances into where He truly lives.

The tears continued to fall as I took the bread and the cup.

Again she moved within me.

And I lost all words. There are none. None that would be enough to thank Him... to describe Him... to describe this love that has ebbed it's way into my life. There are no words for what He has been nor what He has done. I am a woman of many flaws and many failures. I love imperfectly and I live imperfectly... and my faith, at times, feels so much smaller than a mustard seed. I've never made a mountain move. I've never walked on water. I'm the one who would have doubted and asked to see the marks in His hands... I'm the one that would have denied Him three times... I'm that disciple. I'm that woman... the one who deserves the stones to be thrown. The one who has no business washing the feet of her Jesus. I'm the one who has a hard time forgiving once let alone 77 times 7. I'm the one who has yelled "Why?" I've denied Him, walked away from Him, been unfaithful to Him.

I got a letter from a friend I haven't talked to for a long time. She told me she'd been reading this blog and that it seems "your faith has really gotten you through all of this".

I'm a ye of little faith. If this whole thing were up to me I wouldn't be sitting here... writing this. I'm here because He reached when I ran... He kept knocking when I refused to answer.... He continued to speak even when I'd stopped listening. He continued to pursue even when I pushed Him away. He forgave long before I could forgive myself. He was the one whose love broke this cold cold heart. He was the one who gave songs in the night. He was the one I felt beside me through every step of this broken road. When the lights went out... He's the one who held my hand and walked me through it. If it had been up to theology I wouldn't be here. If it had been about following rules and reading enough devotions I wouldn't be here. If there was a prayer quota or a good works assessment I wouldn't be here. If it was up to showing up on Sunday and serving on church committees I wouldn't be here. I'm here because one night... on a basement floor... he filled the hole in my heart... and at that moment there was really no way I could deny He was real. The night love flooded my life and I came alive... that's how I'm still here. Because He's held me in this place since the very first day I decided I didn't want to do life on my own.

He's the one whose gotten me through all of this. This life, my sin, my shame, the unknown places, the secret spaces, the hard edges of my heart.

Finally after drinking the cup... the words came as I placed my hand over my sweet baby girl...

"I will not forget what you did. I will not forget this love. Jesus I'll tell her of this love......"


"He died that we might have life... and have it to the full."-John 10:10

I'll tell her of the Jesus who gave her mommy a new heart and a beautiful love.

Much Love and a very Happy Easter to you all,
Kayla

Trust.

If I tried to tell the story of this house and all we have walked through recently to be able to live there... I would be typing for a good three hours. So I'll give you the short version of the last crazy month of our lives.

- We have an amazing God orchestrated night with Ted and Margy in which we agree to rent the home next to Grace Refuge and give it the TLC it needs.

- The home fails the rental inspection because they changed all of the codes in 2005 and basically any house built after that needs major renovations (ours would be to the tune of 40,000) to be rentable unless it is grandfathered in by an existing license.

- I go on a long ride in the van and bawl my eyes out. This part isn't important except for the fact that through lots of those tears I kept telling the Lord "I trust you... I do... I just don't see what you're doing."

-Ted and Margy come to us and agree to sell us the house on contract for deed. We are overjoyed and agree and spend the rest of the month finishing the renovations on the house and making it home.

-We spend the rainiest week of March moving ourselves in freezing cold weather with my van and Micaiah's jeep. We have just moved in the very last box and I am organizing cupboards when Ted comes in and tells us the bank just put a halt on the entire thing and will not allow the contract for deed to go through.

- I fall to the floor and sob... part from the sheer exhaustion of moving all week in the rain... partly because the situation now seems fairly hopeless and I can't imagine moving again. Micaiah at that very moment is finishing the very last room. I am mopping the last floor in ugly sweats... and crying (not in a pretty way...in a mascara running all down my face way)... with my big belly in the way and Micaiah and I have this crazy lifetime moment in the living room where he cups my face, kisses my forehead and tells me God is going to take care of us. I laugh and tell him that I know that but I'm going to continue crying for awhile.

- I go take a drive in the van again that afternoon and bawl my eyes out (this is a theme with my relationship with the Lord if you haven't picked up on that by now :) I tell Him again through broken sobs that I trust Him... even if he takes this house away.

-That night Micaiah and I spend our first night in the new house and can't sleep because of a thunder storm that rages outside (which feels oh so appropriate at this point). We laugh... oh do we laugh... and he tells me that as long as we're together we're going to be okay. We joke about living in a cardboard box.

-We pray... all of us... for God to perform a miracle.

-Ted and Margy start the process of trying to refinance their Home so that they can own ours free and clear and sell the home to us on contract for deed.

-They put in the paperwork and things look good.

-We sign the purchase agreement.

-We wait.

That's where we are... we are waiting. Patience and trusting Him with all we cannot possibly know, see, or control seems to be the theme of our life these days.

On January 2nd when we drove to the emergency room fearing the worst... we handed Him our daughter.

In the midst of the weeks on bed rest we learned to hand over our fears, our dreams, our hopes, and all that held us back from full reliance on Him.

In late February when my parents business closed leaving Micaiah without a job... we handed Him our bank accounts, our finances, our need for those things to make us feel secure... and we learned that He provides.

On March 10th when Ted came in and told us the bank had contested the entire thing... we handed Him the home we'd put our blood, sweat, and tears into.

In the midst of the last three months we've handed over many things that we were trying to make work on our own. A little over a month ago I wrote a post saying we felt like we could only see ten steps ahead. On March 10th it felt like the lights went out....

And we were left standing in the dark with just one thing....

That still small voice whispering "Do you still trust me?"

And through broken voices and falling tears... we said "yes."

We trust Him. We trust His heart even when we cannot see His hand. We trust His goodness even when it feels like things are falling down. And in these last three months we have walked in uncertain places... and we have stood in the dark. But the tears have only been surpassed by the love we've experienced. Our marriage is different because we've walked this road. Our love is more real because we've walked this road. Our dreams and hopes for our daughter are more real because of this road. We are better having walked this. Because we had no idea what it truly meant to trust until we could no longer see and felt as if we were walking blind. We had no idea what it was to stand together and weather the storm until we sat in that emergency room and feared for the life of our daughter. We didn't know how deeply we could love each other until everything else kind of turned upside down. We didn't know how we relied on each other until we lost much of what made us comfortable. We didn't know just how real He'd make Himself to us before this... before we went to Him in the middle of the night bringing our deepest fears and our greatest dreams before Him.

We are better for having walked this... all of this.

So as we watch and we wait once again for Him to move on our behalf... we no longer feel shaken or dismayed. We stand firmly in the place of blind trust. Because inside of Him... we will always be home.

Will you again join us and pray that as we watch and wait... He makes Himself known?

Much Love,
Kayla

A New Season...

When we began this whole ordeal we couldn't have dreamed what the last two months would bring. There is much I have not blogged about until this point because we were simply uncertain of where things would end up. I'll be honest... I would like to say I faithfully trusted the entire time... that I did not for one moment let myself freak out. But that wouldn't be entirely true.

Okay... for awhile it was about as far from that as possible.

In the month that I found out about the subchorionic hematoma in my uterus and was put on complete bed rest which eliminated over half our income... we also found out we'd need to find a new place to live, Micaiah would be loosing his job, and virtually much of what was certain in our lives seemed to disappear within a matter of two weeks.

And I had to lay on the couch... which didn't exactly help matters. I actually asked Dr. Goerish if there were anti anxiety meds I could take (I was partly kidding.... partly.) January was probably one of the most difficult months of my life in the way that I had absolutely no way of doing anything about our situation. My job was gone. Micaiah's was to be ending very soon. We needed to find a new place to live thus at least doubling our rent. Life as we'd known it was changing rapidly. And to say I was a little bit of a neurotic crazy person during that time would be putting it nicely.

I'll admit at times it felt like life was collapsing... and there was about a two or three day period where I came completely unglued and was a mess of tears and wondering why our beautiful little way of life had shifted so suddenly.

And then I woke up... and I realized something. Sometimes, when it feels like everything certain around you is crumbling you get this beautiful opportunity to let it change you. And after much prayer and many tearful conversations with God... I decided to go with it.

And trust Him for a house.
To trust Him for jobs.
To trust Him to provide for food and medical bills and all that we needed as we walked this road.
To trust Him to take care of my womb and my baby.
To trust Him with our lives and our dreams and all we hold dear.

Believing in what we cannot yet see seems to be the theme of 2010 for us.

As it has been for a few others. And we're realizing that when things in life get shaky and our plans fail... sometimes the most beautiful way He redeems it is by giving us people to walk alongside. People who are walking an equally uncertain road.

If you've been reading this blog for any amount of time you know about Grace Refuge. And as our lives were turned upside down... some interesting events were transpiring there as well. If I had the words to write the whole story I would. It begins with both Ted and Margy and Micaiah and I having events that made the future of things a little uncertain... and it ends with us praying together in an upstairs room of their house--both sides able to give something desperately needed. We left with a place to live... and they walked away with people willing to fill a need that was bigger than they were capable of filling alone. And I don't know exactly how it's all going to end up... what I do know is that we've entered into beautiful ministry together because that's where God led us.

Something incredibly wise was said in that room that night.

"It's like we can only see ten steps ahead... and God says... that's all you need to see."

So we're moving... to Grace Refuge (not the big house the one next door to the big house)... and the role we will play there is continually unfolding. Right now we're giving the next door house some much needed TLC :) I'll jump back in helping Margy with foster care and the kids as I'm able... and Micaiah will do "man things" where they are needed. And where it will go from there I don't know. What I do know is they have blessed us beyond measure by allowing us to come on board and live in the house next door.... and most importantly they have blessed us by their love and their faithful walks with the Lord.

In the time since that happened we have been wrapped up in this beautiful new way of life. We spend much of our time at the house painting and fixing and loving on it. And we have been blessed by people who have joined us washing floors, cleaning up cobwebs, painting, scraping, fixing, nailing, making trips to Home Depot, and the like. We have shared some beautiful fellowship with those who have come alongside us to make this house our home. Many things may still be uncertain... but one thing is not... the body of Christ is a beautiful thing and we have never known love like we have these last couple of months.

I am almost completely off of restriction. Tomorrow I start a CNA class which is something I've wanted to do for a long time. And I've been able to be part of PACT ministries a couple of days a week which has been incredible. Micaiah got a job at Home Depot. And sweet Jayda is growing and kicking like crazy :) And we continually watch as God takes care of us in ways that both surprise and delight us.

And we have moved from a place of accepting this season of our lives to being incredibly grateful for it. Yes... I said grateful. Grateful for the bedrest, for life turning upside down, for the chance to see God move in ways we otherwise wouldn't have.

Much love and gratitude,
Kayla

it's what you do...

I was listening to a Podcast this week from Mark Driscoll. In it he said something that hasn't left me.

"Love isn't what you say or how you feel. Love is what you do."

Honestly, if Micaiah spoke to me like the men on those cheesy Valentine's Day commercials... I think I'd laugh. Then probably ask him if he was feeling okay. Because the thing is... at the end of the day, words are cheap and feelings are fleeting.

My man is one of few words. He's a man's man. He works at Home Depot, hunts things, and watches shows like Dirty Jobs and Man vs. Food. His idea of making dinner is picking up Chipolte or frying me a basket of french fries. He rarely pours his heart out in words (probably because I'm enough words for us both :) but his actions speak love.

He kisses my forehead sometimes when he thinks I'm sleeping. He vaccums. When he leaves for a weekend he writes a quick note and buys me a scratch off ticket.

Ladies nothing says love like a scratch off ticket.

He calls sometimes in the middle of the day just to see what I'm doing. When we're driving and I boss him and tell him which way to go and what way is shorter he's smiles and says "You're my right hand man babe." He cleans up the dog puke. When I had a major emotional breakdown a few days after being on bedrest he came home the next day with food and flowers. Purple flowers. He remembers things like the fact that I love purple, or that I wanted that lime green puffy vest with the fur hood for Christmas. He knows what my perfume is called. He cuddles me to sleep. He doesn't mind that I have a shoe addiction or need a new eyeshadow color for every season.

He's not perfect. Our marriage isn't perfect. Our love is far from perfect. But I'll never forget Valentine's two years ago. We'd just met but I could tell He was going to change my life. He already knew I'd be the one he'd marry. He brought me a card and chocolates as were weren't dating and he didn't totally want to freak me out too badly :) I'd just gotten out of a bad relationship and was left a little scarred. I told him I didn't want my heart broken. He promised he wouldn't break it... and he's spent every day since then making good on that promise. He's redeemed many things and been a rock for my sometimes incredibly fragile heart. And I'm crazy about him.

We've had our bumps in the road... sometimes a few really big ones. And we're by no means marriage experts at this young time in our marriage. But we've learned some really big lessons about what love is and what it's not. We've learned that you choose your love.... and for the rest of your life... you love your choice.

He tries every day to love his choice well. The vacuming, the scratch off tickets, the cleaning up dog vomit, the purple flowers, the fact that he reads every single one of my blog posts.... they all speak love to me.

Love is what you do.

And he does love well.

Happy Valentines Day My Love. You and no other.

Kayla

more good news!

Hello all,
This will be short as I'm very tired. Our appointment today went great! The clot has shrunk again and is really quite small now. At this rate it should dissapear completly in 3 weeks to a month which means I'll be able to go back to life as normal.

Hallelujah!

Much Love,
Kayla

Step into Fear

I woke up that night startled... I'd been in and out of precious sleep for hours. We'd been driving through the night for what seemed like forever... but I felt the van rumble to a halt and now, I was awake. I was in the way back crammed between Christmas presents, blankets, and supplies. It was pitch dark outside and there were no other cars to be seen. I saw my two friends outside with the hood of the van open... and smoke was everywhere. When I found my voice I finally asked what in the world was going on.

I learned we were in the middle of Utah, the van broke down because we'd forgotten to put some cap back on. They'd tried to cool it down and used up all of our water in doing so... and still no luck. There was also no one who could get cell phone service at the time. Apparently there aren't too many towers in the middle of no-where-Utah, go figure. Did I mention there were also Coyotes howling in the background... or that is was six hours before someone stopped to help us (it was maybe the 3rd car we saw in six hours so not bad odds)?

I thought the entire situation was utterly hilarious. I remember laughing hysterically over the entire thing... and then regretting it because it made me so thirsty for the water we did not have.

My point I guess in all of this is... not once did I fear. Not once did I wonder if someone would come and rescue us. Not once did I question whether or not God would take care of us. It didn't even cross my mind.

I've been in many dangerous situations... lost in many foreign places... broken down on more than one unfamiliar road. I've walked the streets of African slums and the ravaged streets of New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina. And not once in all of that did I question whether or not He would protect me... not once did I doubt Him. I don't remember being afraid...and if I ever was it must have been quickly overwhelmed by how deeply I trusted Him to walk with me through it.

The day I saw those two perfect pink lines... the day I realized I was going to be a mother... all of that changed.

And I was terrified.

I wasn't terrified of her coming into the world, I wasn't afraid of being a mother or the fact that my entire life was about to change.

I was terrified that something might go wrong, that I might loose her. The first three months I carried her I walked on eggshells. I was afraid of every small twinge in my abdomen. Every symptom I had "What to Expect When Your Expecting" didn't dedicate a section to. I probably talked to every nurse on the OB floor. I ate everything healthy, nothing caffeinated, and didn't so much as take a tylenol those first three months. When my first trimester was over and things were fine... I took a deep breath and relaxed a little, let myself have a candy bar or cup of coffee every now and then and didn't worry at every new sensation. That was, until I was barely sixteen weeks pregnant and woke up in the middle of the night covered with blood.

Panic and mind gripping fear overwhelmed us that night. And although I have not spent every waking moment since then afraid... there is always that fear that rises up when I wake in the dark of night... or when I don't feel her move for awhile. That underlying fear that unsettles... shakes me...

And yesterday I was feeling like a "ye of little faith" and remembering verses like "perfect love casts out all fear" and "without faith it is impossible to please God" and something in me broke open.

The things in my life that require great faith are the things I'm most terrified of... because within those things lye my deepest desires, my greatest dreams... my secret longings and deep loves. This isn't being stranded on a road in the middle of nowhere. This is my daughter. The is the baby I have prayed for my entire life. This is flesh of my flesh. This is a deep dream of my heart now reality that grows within me.

And no one has to tell me... I know that to move into places of great faith we first have to enter the places that shake us... terrify us. I know... and I'll be transparent here... It's impossible to please God unless I do the things I'm afraid of.

I knew a man once who said that it wasn't a sin to doubt but that God didn't like it. Who said that the only thing we should fear is God... and to fear anything else means we don't have enough faith.

I think, good intentioned as he was, he was wrong.

Fear offers two routes, flight or faith.

To be so scared that you are trembling... but allowing Him into the deep places of your heart anyway... takes tremendous faith. And just as I was beginning to doubt and feel as if I've fallen so short I felt Him whisper.

"Entering into your greatest fears is the first step in great faith."

Which left me thinking... "yeah, God but I mean... we didn't really have a choice in this, it's not like we willingly stepped in, I mean... I'd like to say we would have but we probably wouldn't have given the choice."

"Your choice came when you learned you were standing in the midst of terror and fear and you chose not to flee."

This has shaken me. I have feared... many times. My two greatest fears on this earth are loosing my husband and loosing my child. And to be told a few weeks ago that one of those fears was entirely possible terrified me.

But then came the songs in the night, the prayers of the faithful, the places in my heart I handed over to Him that I didn't even know were there. Then came the sweet intercession that came when she kicked and I asked God to let me raise her... here. Then came faith. And yes... the fear comes. It comes in times and ways we don't expect it. It comes as I bare my heart on these pages. It comes before every ultrasound. And although the odds are now stacked in our favor... two weeks ago they were most definitely not. And we know all too well how quickly everything can change. And I'm learning something about faith.

Just as much as your faith can't be based on circumstance it also doesn't mean you're fearless. It means in the midst of all that terrifies and shakes you... you hand over those things which are most precious to you anyway. Even though you long for facts and statistics and certainty... you cling to what you cannot see. It means you allow Him to chip away at the fear and allow perfect love to melt even the most terrifying places. Faith means you bear witness even when you feel shaken... to speak His name even when you feel you can't do it justice. It means you become the person your scared to be in the midst of the mess and the confusion and the fear. I'm not saying I'm there, I'm not.

I realize now that walking dangerous roads and breaking down in the middle of nowhere didn't require much faith for me... those weren't great fears. It was easy to trust because it was just me. I trusted Him with me. Handing over those we love the most is so much more difficult.

It hasn't been easy to hand Him my daughter and tell Him I trust Him with her.... even though I know I can. It hasn't been easy to share our story, our faith, and our flaws on these pages... even though I know I'm supposed to. It hasn't been easy to hang in the balance of the seen and unseen... even though we've been asked to drop to our knees and stay awhile.

And that's where the perfect love floods in... slowly pierces our hearts and gives us the ability to stand in that place and whisper His name. That's where the faith comes in... the courage to offer Him all we have to give... even if it's not much... and entrust Him with our fragile hearts.

I deeply long to be someone of great faith... and I know now that it means I might have to stand in the fear for awhile and choose to walk through it. I know that I need to willingly choose to enter in to some of those things that terrify me most. And there are a few things He has revealed to my heart... places that I haven't wanted to go for fear of rejection or pain or inconvenience that I now know I need to step into. There is the woman I've always known I'm supposed to be... but the part of me that doesn't want to go there because I might fail.

I'm going to go there now, some of those places of fear... because even if I fail miserably at least I'll know His heart in the midst of it.

And that's enough. His love... it's enough...