God's Sense of Humor

As a Christian, faith has always played a major part in my life. Sometimes I am pretty good at it while other times I can't muster up enough of the stuff to equal a mustard seed. I figure God must sit up in Heaven shaking His head wondering why He didn't build a few more "patience" cells into our human DNA. Instead, I imagine, He listens to complaints, frustrations, hurts and outright rants knowing full well the when's and the how's but keeping them to Himself for reasons only He knows. Most of these seemingly unanswered prayers aren't problem makers but there are a few that make us truly question what God is or is not up to. That must be where His grace comes in.

Over the past five and a half years God has shown me A LOT of grace. When Chris and I started trying for children it was easy to believe that IT would happen. After a year went by with no success we were a tad concerned but knew that, despite the fertility test or ever faithful cycle, pregnancy was a certainty. Fast forward to last month and you'll see a very different picture. My Husband and I have been balancing precariously atop the narrow fence of faith upon which we walk. Falling to one side equaled unquestionable belief that our dreams would come true one way or another while a tilt in the other direction meant letting go and giving up forever. In all honesty, the belief side of the fence has been getting farther and farther away as our balance has teetered towards doubt and reluctant acceptance. One night we finally discussed the possibility that our life might equal two and no more. Everything we planned or dreamed of always included us multiplied so to think of us as only two was a tough reality to swallow. Nerves became raw and our honesty with God was... well, honest.

This is where that God humor thing comes in. Chris and I joke that the big man upstairs must revel in that moment when the answer to a prayer becomes reality. We can just imagine Him calling Gabriel and Michael over and saying, with a gleeful look, "Watch this!" What am I getting at? Let me fill you in on our turn of events.

Since the Summer of 08 we had been planning, along with a group of friends, a week long Western Caribbean Cruise. As THE DAY approached the anticipation became nearly tangible. The house was cleaned, the bags were carefully packed and the passports were checked and double checked. At long last our departure came and we headed south for my In-laws home. Before our vacation could begin, you see, our bird needed to get settled in with our family so that we could travel without concerns. Okay, so it takes a few hours to get there just for the sake of going on vacation but, as bird people will attest to, a happy bird is worth every inconvenience. So there we were two states away from home and literally five minutes from leaving for the airport when my cell phone rang. I didn't recognize the number only that the area code was from our neck of the woods. In an unusual move by me, the admitted phone freak, I went ahead and answered it. How glad I am that I did.

The call was from our adoption case worker. "You need to get Chris on the phone too," she said. That could only mean one thing and one thing only.... we had a child. She promised to send pictures to our email account, accessible through the ship's cybercafe, and to let us know via our cell phone if there were any changes, a scary possibility, during our absence. Our job otherwise was to have fun on our cruise and to think of a name for our little boy. Talk about an intense ride to the airport. Family members were called, tears fell, giggles of shock erupted. Chris and I looked at each other with "pinch me I'm dreaming" expressions on our faces. Had we heard right? Did we really have a son waiting for us back home?

After eight months of cruise preparation, something of much more significance captured our attention. Not to say that the vacation wasn't an absolute blast but I doubt many others aboard awaited the return home as eagerly as we did. HOME!!! Speaking of which, we didn't have anything at home ready for a three week old baby. When we got back into town we would have that night only to baby-ready our house because as of 10am the next morning our son (what a great sound) would be moving in. So much to do, so little time.

Those seven days in the Caribbean and the weeks that followed have given me many topics for upcoming blogs. Life has changed and, joyfully, will never be the same again. We went from a happily married couple dealing with a very present absence in our home to instant parents so overjoyed that we may never descend from the cloud upon which we now find ourselves floating.

God does have a sense of humor and I know that He and the Heavenly hosts had a moment of pure celebration when Chris and I met and then held our baby boy for the very first time. Ahhhhh... but that, my friend, is a tale for another day.

Snow Angel

All throughout childhood we plan our adulthood. We think about getting older, being able to drink alcohol legally, voting in a major election, where we'll go to college, the places we'll visit, the adventures we'll have, the age we'll be when we marry, the number of children we'll have... heck, we even have names picked out long before procreation is even remotely possible. Our youth is spent planning for the future. The popular question asked of all kids is, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" See my point?

Then there is my Grandma M. She mentioned not too long ago that she doesn't feel any different than when she was twenty. It is only when she looks in the mirror that she realizes that the packaging has changed and wonders when in the world that happened. In four and a half years I will be forty. That number freaks me out because it sounds so "old." How did I get to be that age? Just like Grandma, I don't feel any older and yet there are all these markers that say I am aging.

When I was in High School, the big accomplishment in the social scene was if a girl dated an Air Force Cadet. There these young men of military stature were in their blue uniforms looking mighty mature and adultish. A girl was really something special if she had a Cadet as a boyfriend. So what happened to my eyes? When did Cadets start looking like babies?

It seems like only yesterday that I was the teenager wearing the latest trends and paving the way in modern lingo. I don't understand the majority of today's teenage slang and (GULP) I haven't a clue as to how what they listen to even counts as music. YIKES... I'm a grown up!

I look in the fashion magazines in an attempt to try and have at least one modern outfit that doesn't reveal my 80's upbringing. The twenty year old model in the magazine makes every item of clothing look so good. How disappointed I am when I try on that same figure flattering top and curve hugging jeans only to see that one gaps here, the other pulls there and the hanger makes a better model than I do. That wasn't always so... and I'm still in relatively good physical shape. When did things start to change?

Perhaps who we really are is not what people see on the outside. The body is just the shell to the true "nut" inside (so to speak). It is forever changing while we, really, aren't. Not to say that there isn't learning, growing, and maturing going on... but the eternal teenager is still there. Our true youth hasn't changed any. We have to be the proof.

For the first time in a few years, a significant snow finally hit our town. Not this dusty, wimpy stuff that sends everyone in a panic and then melts away at suns first light. No, this was actually enough to bury the feet and land-lock the cars in the driveway. Still not the true snow of my childhood (I promise, no jokes about blizzards and walking up hills) but significant for this area. It is because of this latest snow that I know we are still kid's at heart.

With boots laced, coats zipped and gloves appropriately in place, my Husband and I headed out into the wintery scene to un-bury the cars. We did the responsible grown-up stuff like scraping off the ice, sprinkling salt onto the sidewalks, and even carefully stepping through ice patches so as not to fall and mame ourselves. It wasn't long, however, until our inner child came out to play. We threw, flung, and all together dumped snow at and onto one another resulting in wet gloves, wet clothes and snow coming to rest inside all manor of nooks and crannies. If you look out our front door right now, you will see what appears to be an angel in the middle of the yard taking a siesta. A true heavenly body? No, my Husband's youth displaying itself for all the neighbors to see. Ice patches? Gotta keep a few around for the run and slide. Extra points for going long distances in style and managing not to wipe out.

I may not be able to stop the outside of me from changing (at least not without a few bucks in the wallet and a good doctor on hand). But I hope I don't ever lose that inner youngster. There will be days when the absence of children in our home is overpowering, causing me to feel emotions that are too easy to dwell on. I hope, in those moment especially, that I stop being so grown up and act like the person I really am... young at heart and ready to play!