The ultrasound went well this morning. They measured Jayda's practice breathing movements as well as her other movements and her heart rate. She scored 8 out of 8! Our sweet girl may be tiny but she is fiesty!
The tentative "plan" if Jayda continues to do well on her ultrasounds is to measure her growth again at 36weeks (because they can only make an estimate within a half pound this is the best way to know how she is actually growing). At 37 weeks I'll have the amnio and if her lungs are ready Miss Jayda should make her grand entrance the first week in June.
From the looks of everything I will have a C-section. This is not definite but because of my septated uterus, Jayda's breech position, and the fact that she is very small... right now this feels like the safest way to go. Although if Jayda starts to grow and turns herself head down... we may still try for a vaginal birth.
We got an adorable picture of our sweet girls face today (hopefully I'll get that up by early next week). We both think she looks like her auntie Kelsey :)
We're breathing a little easier knowing that although Jayda is small, everything else appears to be doing well. I had my 2nd steroid shot yesterday to help develop her lungs... hopefully it's just a precaution and she'll make it to 37 weeks!
Right now I'm just trying to rest up, take it easy, and find some preemie clothes for our tiny girl :)
Thank you for all the prayers, love, and support.
Kayla
Friday, May 7, 2010
Thursday, May 6, 2010
A few more details...
In my shock and exhaustion yesterday I realized I forgot to mention a few important details.
The reason they think Jayda isn't growing well is because they believe my plancenta was damaged because I had such a large blood clot for so long. I'm not sure exactly why it is showing up now vs. before (possibly because this is when babies are supposed to be growing the most). Her main concern is that Jayda's nutrition doesn't decrease. As the placenta is also her oxygen supply they also want to monitor her heart and breathing very closely. Her other main concern was that Jayda's lungs are not developed... which is why I'm getting the steroid shots. If I can make it to 37 weeks they will do an amniocentesis and if her lungs are developed at that point... the plan is to get her out.
But really, right now, our only sure plan is waiting to see how she does.
There is really no way of knowing how well my placenta is working right now... just that it's obviously still functioning well enough to give Jayda enough oxygen.
That's why we'll have ultrasounds twice a week... they will very closly monitor all of those things to make sure our sweet girl is still doing okay in there.
I will do my best to update every Tuesday and Friday (and maybe posts inbetween for the sake of my sanity as we all know resting is not my specialty :)
Thanks for all the prayers and love sent our way! We are blessed to know each of you.
Kayla, Micaiah, and Jayda
The reason they think Jayda isn't growing well is because they believe my plancenta was damaged because I had such a large blood clot for so long. I'm not sure exactly why it is showing up now vs. before (possibly because this is when babies are supposed to be growing the most). Her main concern is that Jayda's nutrition doesn't decrease. As the placenta is also her oxygen supply they also want to monitor her heart and breathing very closely. Her other main concern was that Jayda's lungs are not developed... which is why I'm getting the steroid shots. If I can make it to 37 weeks they will do an amniocentesis and if her lungs are developed at that point... the plan is to get her out.
But really, right now, our only sure plan is waiting to see how she does.
There is really no way of knowing how well my placenta is working right now... just that it's obviously still functioning well enough to give Jayda enough oxygen.
That's why we'll have ultrasounds twice a week... they will very closly monitor all of those things to make sure our sweet girl is still doing okay in there.
I will do my best to update every Tuesday and Friday (and maybe posts inbetween for the sake of my sanity as we all know resting is not my specialty :)
Thanks for all the prayers and love sent our way! We are blessed to know each of you.
Kayla, Micaiah, and Jayda
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Jayda
I'm exhausted... and my head is spinning... and there are a million things I want to say.
But right now... I just want off. I want off this train that feels like it's going 200 hundred miles an hour. And I just want it to stop.
I had an ultrasound this morning and the results were alarming enough that my Dr. called me less than an hour later.
"Your daughter is not doing well. She is very small and is not getting what she needs. We will need to keep a very close eye on her from this point on. You need to come in for steroid shots immediatly to develop her lungs because there is a good chance we'll need to deliever her before they reach maturity. I want you to have ultrasounds twice a week and we will monitor her movements, breathing, and growth. If anything is off we will send you to the hospital and put you on monitors and deliver you if necessary. You need to be ready. My hope at this point is that we can get you to go another three of four weeks before taking her but if she doesn't grow it is safer for her to be born early than to stay inside of you."
Jayda is only three pounds.... very very small for a 33 weeker. All I could think about was how tiny that was...
She's too little to come yet... she isn't ready... I'm not ready.
I'm not ready to do this again... the ultrasounds and the waiting and the fear. I'm not ready for shots and monitors and a daugther that is much too small and not ready to breathe on her own.
Until the ultrasound we thought everything was fine. I was measuring a week ahead even... My blood pressure and weight were right on target. Everything looked wonderful until they took a look inside.
As we watched her suck her little fingers and kick her feet this morning I just marveled at my daughter. I wondered what color her hair would be and whose eyes she would have.... when we would get to meet her. Before they told me her weight I was even joking with the ultrasound tech that I was afraid she's be big because both Micaiah and I were 9 pounds.
I went back to Grace Refuge this afternoon and 5 little people laid their hands on my belly while Margy once again prayed for my baby. I'm telling you... you haven't experianced prayer until 3 year olds put their hands on you and pray for your baby to grow.
I came home with every intention to pack my bags and get things ready... instead I collapsed. I trust my Jesus. There was a time when we were simply prayed I'd be able to make it to twenty three weeks. There was a time when we never dreamed I'd be able to make it this far. And part of me feels like I should be grateful... But right now... this feels like too much to carry.... and I'm tired and I'm weary and I just want my daughter to be okay.
I have another shot of steroids tomorrow and an Ultrasound again on Friday. After that I will have ultrasounds every Tuesday and Friday as well as my appointments with Dr. Goerish. I'm not on stict bedrest but she wants me getting as much rest as possible and to take it easy. She said there is really no way of knowing when we will deliver her... and so again we walk it out day by day... waiting and praying.
unable to see what is ahead.
Again we covet your prayers... again we ask that you join us on your knees on behalf of our daughter.
Much Love,
Kayla
But right now... I just want off. I want off this train that feels like it's going 200 hundred miles an hour. And I just want it to stop.
I had an ultrasound this morning and the results were alarming enough that my Dr. called me less than an hour later.
"Your daughter is not doing well. She is very small and is not getting what she needs. We will need to keep a very close eye on her from this point on. You need to come in for steroid shots immediatly to develop her lungs because there is a good chance we'll need to deliever her before they reach maturity. I want you to have ultrasounds twice a week and we will monitor her movements, breathing, and growth. If anything is off we will send you to the hospital and put you on monitors and deliver you if necessary. You need to be ready. My hope at this point is that we can get you to go another three of four weeks before taking her but if she doesn't grow it is safer for her to be born early than to stay inside of you."
Jayda is only three pounds.... very very small for a 33 weeker. All I could think about was how tiny that was...
She's too little to come yet... she isn't ready... I'm not ready.
I'm not ready to do this again... the ultrasounds and the waiting and the fear. I'm not ready for shots and monitors and a daugther that is much too small and not ready to breathe on her own.
Until the ultrasound we thought everything was fine. I was measuring a week ahead even... My blood pressure and weight were right on target. Everything looked wonderful until they took a look inside.
As we watched her suck her little fingers and kick her feet this morning I just marveled at my daughter. I wondered what color her hair would be and whose eyes she would have.... when we would get to meet her. Before they told me her weight I was even joking with the ultrasound tech that I was afraid she's be big because both Micaiah and I were 9 pounds.
I went back to Grace Refuge this afternoon and 5 little people laid their hands on my belly while Margy once again prayed for my baby. I'm telling you... you haven't experianced prayer until 3 year olds put their hands on you and pray for your baby to grow.
I came home with every intention to pack my bags and get things ready... instead I collapsed. I trust my Jesus. There was a time when we were simply prayed I'd be able to make it to twenty three weeks. There was a time when we never dreamed I'd be able to make it this far. And part of me feels like I should be grateful... But right now... this feels like too much to carry.... and I'm tired and I'm weary and I just want my daughter to be okay.
I have another shot of steroids tomorrow and an Ultrasound again on Friday. After that I will have ultrasounds every Tuesday and Friday as well as my appointments with Dr. Goerish. I'm not on stict bedrest but she wants me getting as much rest as possible and to take it easy. She said there is really no way of knowing when we will deliver her... and so again we walk it out day by day... waiting and praying.
unable to see what is ahead.
Again we covet your prayers... again we ask that you join us on your knees on behalf of our daughter.
Much Love,
Kayla
Monday, April 26, 2010
Orange Hair, God, and Clorox
I used to be really good at rolling with the punches... not much of a planner by nature... definitely not one of those people who needed her whole life to be organized or color coded.
I was not a list maker, multi-tasker, or house cleaner.
Then I had six little kids running around all day... and if I did not perpetually follow them cleaning up... life wouldn't work. If I didn't plan and bring diapers and sippy cups and fishy crackers along at all times... I would most certainly live to regret it. If I didn't organize I would loose another pair of someone's socks or forget a feeding time. So, I learned... slowly... by the skin of my teeth (as it usually is when the Lord is trying to teach me a new skill) I learned.
Then I got pregnant, and some switch in my brain went into overdrive and I became a freakshow.
A clorox wipe obsessing, color coding, list making, organization loving, house cleaning, dinner making, planning way in advance, need to know the details... freakshow.
Maybe it was all the unexpected things in this pregnancy. Maybe it's just the momma coming out in me. Maybe I was this way all along and just fought it because I thought it would be more fun to roll with it and not have a plan.
Maybe it's simply that with each stage of life we change... We become more of who we truly are.... Maybe, at heart... I did always love clorox wipes and color coded closets and I'm just now realizing it :)
Or maybe, when life throws us a lot of the unexpected... we try to control the things we can.
So when the hairstylist turns our hair orange... we loose it.
Or when the house is trashed because of an insane schedule... we feel all out of wack.
So when the stack of unanswered mail piles up, the kids are screaming, and there is gum stuck to the floor of the van.... we can't handle it.
Because none of it was part of the plan. We wanted normal hair, a clean house, paid bills, kids who are well behaved, and a van that didn't smell like dirty diapers and have gum stuck to the carpet. By "we" here I really mean me.
See... there has been enough of the unexpected... so it's the little things... the small every day things that I just want predictable.
And all the time... I hear Him whisper... "just let it go...."
A year ago I thrived on the chaos and unpredictability of our lives... the messiness of Grace Refuge and what I did there... the kids and the fullness of our existence. I thrived on watching God show his face in unexpected ways each and every day.
And then both our jobs were gone, I was on bed rest, and we had no idea where we'd live... and I began to cling to what was predictable... safe... the little that did feel secure and normal. And although we now both have jobs again, we officially own our house and will not have to be worrying about where we'll live, and Jayda is doing fabulous and growing right on track... I find that I'm still clinging to all the little stuff.
Like the fact that the paint color in her room has to be perfect.
Or the fact that my hair has to be exactly how I want it... which, for the record... is not orange.
Or the fact that I like my van clean... even though that's simply impossible when five little people currently occupy the back seats.
Like the fact that I am starting to get really overwhelmed with being pregnant and am longing for my familiar body and familiar clothes and familiar emotions.
I knew something was slightly wrong with me when they told me Jayda was sideways (she is now breech) and said a C-section was a high possibility and I was actually relieved because I could plan for it...
I was relieved that I may have to have major surgery instead of have her naturally and I was relieved because I could "plan" for it.... for the birth... the pain... the afterward... I would know when it was going to happen... and that felt safe for me.
I mean... seriously... have I gone mad?
I'll probably bring my chlorox wipes and ask them if I can get my hands on the recovery room beforehand. You know... color code things a little bit.
And the voice repeats...
"Let it go..."
"So what if you have orange hair and the van is trashed and the kids are screaming at each other? So what if the dog made the floor a muddy mess and your insurance accidentally dropped your coverage and you now have tons of bills headed your way to made heads or tails of? Is it really worth loosing your joy? Your heart? Your cool? I healed your baby... gave you a home... and provided for you when you had no idea if you were going to make it and you're worried about your color coded closet and your orange hair? Don't you think I've got this... all of this... too?"
And then I breathe... I put the clorox wipes away... and I realize...
He knows how Jayda is going to come into this world.
He knows that there is gum stuck to the floor of the van.
He knows I hate my orange hair.
He knows I'm about to fall apart because of muddy paw prints, extra work hours, and the large portion of my closet that is currently laying on our bedroom floor.
He knows that even though my baby is okay... I still worry when she doesn't move for a few hours... I still hold my breath a little before every appointment... He knows that every day... there is still that little part of my heart that can't help but wonder if something might go wrong.
But more than knowing... He cares.... about orange hair and clorox wipes and my mini van. He cares and he sees and even when the stupidest things overwhelm my silly shaky heart... He still speaks.
Maybe the point in all of this was to draw us out of a place of safety and into a place of reliance on the fact that He is good... even when we don't understand... even when we're afraid... even when things don't really go the way we wanted.
That He is a God of the daily messes... the things that aren't life altering but happen to be wrecking our morning... He is still Lord even we our attitude needs a serious adjustment and our tone could be far sweeter. He still speaks when we are stubborn and having a meltdown over gum.
And the sweetest thing about Him... He doesn't ask me to give up the clorox habit or leave my hair orange. Only that I remember what is big in this life... and what isn't.
Only that I hand over the big and the small, and trust that he knows how to handle it when I feel like I can't.
Maybe after this pregnancy is over I'll go back to being happy to roll with the punches... maybe the clorox and color coding are here to stay.
Either way, sometimes all we really need is to know He loves us either way.
Now... I'm off to schedule a hair appointment and resume my cleaning ;)
Much Love,
Kayla
I was not a list maker, multi-tasker, or house cleaner.
Then I had six little kids running around all day... and if I did not perpetually follow them cleaning up... life wouldn't work. If I didn't plan and bring diapers and sippy cups and fishy crackers along at all times... I would most certainly live to regret it. If I didn't organize I would loose another pair of someone's socks or forget a feeding time. So, I learned... slowly... by the skin of my teeth (as it usually is when the Lord is trying to teach me a new skill) I learned.
Then I got pregnant, and some switch in my brain went into overdrive and I became a freakshow.
A clorox wipe obsessing, color coding, list making, organization loving, house cleaning, dinner making, planning way in advance, need to know the details... freakshow.
Maybe it was all the unexpected things in this pregnancy. Maybe it's just the momma coming out in me. Maybe I was this way all along and just fought it because I thought it would be more fun to roll with it and not have a plan.
Maybe it's simply that with each stage of life we change... We become more of who we truly are.... Maybe, at heart... I did always love clorox wipes and color coded closets and I'm just now realizing it :)
Or maybe, when life throws us a lot of the unexpected... we try to control the things we can.
So when the hairstylist turns our hair orange... we loose it.
Or when the house is trashed because of an insane schedule... we feel all out of wack.
So when the stack of unanswered mail piles up, the kids are screaming, and there is gum stuck to the floor of the van.... we can't handle it.
Because none of it was part of the plan. We wanted normal hair, a clean house, paid bills, kids who are well behaved, and a van that didn't smell like dirty diapers and have gum stuck to the carpet. By "we" here I really mean me.
See... there has been enough of the unexpected... so it's the little things... the small every day things that I just want predictable.
And all the time... I hear Him whisper... "just let it go...."
A year ago I thrived on the chaos and unpredictability of our lives... the messiness of Grace Refuge and what I did there... the kids and the fullness of our existence. I thrived on watching God show his face in unexpected ways each and every day.
And then both our jobs were gone, I was on bed rest, and we had no idea where we'd live... and I began to cling to what was predictable... safe... the little that did feel secure and normal. And although we now both have jobs again, we officially own our house and will not have to be worrying about where we'll live, and Jayda is doing fabulous and growing right on track... I find that I'm still clinging to all the little stuff.
Like the fact that the paint color in her room has to be perfect.
Or the fact that my hair has to be exactly how I want it... which, for the record... is not orange.
Or the fact that I like my van clean... even though that's simply impossible when five little people currently occupy the back seats.
Like the fact that I am starting to get really overwhelmed with being pregnant and am longing for my familiar body and familiar clothes and familiar emotions.
I knew something was slightly wrong with me when they told me Jayda was sideways (she is now breech) and said a C-section was a high possibility and I was actually relieved because I could plan for it...
I was relieved that I may have to have major surgery instead of have her naturally and I was relieved because I could "plan" for it.... for the birth... the pain... the afterward... I would know when it was going to happen... and that felt safe for me.
I mean... seriously... have I gone mad?
I'll probably bring my chlorox wipes and ask them if I can get my hands on the recovery room beforehand. You know... color code things a little bit.
And the voice repeats...
"Let it go..."
"So what if you have orange hair and the van is trashed and the kids are screaming at each other? So what if the dog made the floor a muddy mess and your insurance accidentally dropped your coverage and you now have tons of bills headed your way to made heads or tails of? Is it really worth loosing your joy? Your heart? Your cool? I healed your baby... gave you a home... and provided for you when you had no idea if you were going to make it and you're worried about your color coded closet and your orange hair? Don't you think I've got this... all of this... too?"
And then I breathe... I put the clorox wipes away... and I realize...
He knows how Jayda is going to come into this world.
He knows that there is gum stuck to the floor of the van.
He knows I hate my orange hair.
He knows I'm about to fall apart because of muddy paw prints, extra work hours, and the large portion of my closet that is currently laying on our bedroom floor.
He knows that even though my baby is okay... I still worry when she doesn't move for a few hours... I still hold my breath a little before every appointment... He knows that every day... there is still that little part of my heart that can't help but wonder if something might go wrong.
But more than knowing... He cares.... about orange hair and clorox wipes and my mini van. He cares and he sees and even when the stupidest things overwhelm my silly shaky heart... He still speaks.
Maybe the point in all of this was to draw us out of a place of safety and into a place of reliance on the fact that He is good... even when we don't understand... even when we're afraid... even when things don't really go the way we wanted.
That He is a God of the daily messes... the things that aren't life altering but happen to be wrecking our morning... He is still Lord even we our attitude needs a serious adjustment and our tone could be far sweeter. He still speaks when we are stubborn and having a meltdown over gum.
And the sweetest thing about Him... He doesn't ask me to give up the clorox habit or leave my hair orange. Only that I remember what is big in this life... and what isn't.
Only that I hand over the big and the small, and trust that he knows how to handle it when I feel like I can't.
Maybe after this pregnancy is over I'll go back to being happy to roll with the punches... maybe the clorox and color coding are here to stay.
Either way, sometimes all we really need is to know He loves us either way.
Now... I'm off to schedule a hair appointment and resume my cleaning ;)
Much Love,
Kayla
Saturday, April 17, 2010
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
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
Saturday, April 3, 2010
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
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
Friday, March 26, 2010
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
- 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
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