Well, I am one week and six days from my due date, which actually means that baby could join us at anytime now. The flurry of activity that I’ve been putting myself through in preparation for her arrival - that “nesting” instinct - has started to slow down a little bit, as there is less and less organizing to do (although I’m sure I could always find something else!). I feel as though I’ve entered a sort of holding pattern - like when your plane arrives at its destination, only you’re not allowed to land yet, because of weather conditions or whatnot. So you just circle and circle the city, looking down at it from 3,000 feet - so close yet still so far - and all you want to do is get off the plane and go home to what is familiar and comfortable. Only, in this case, I’m not going anywhere even remotely familiar. It is new and uncharted territory, and while I’ve never shied away from exploring new places and cultures, this is entirely different.

Lately I’ve heard stories and comments from various people about the way that their baby arrived when “they were ready.” I didn’t really pick up on the theme, actually, but my hubby did, and the other night he asked me whether or not I was “ready.” He wasn’t talking about nursery decorations or having our bags packed for the hospital stay; rather, he was talking about my emotions and my state of mind. Had I really embraced the reality of this baby’s arrival, and decided I was ready? I think he was only half-serious, but the question triggered something inside of me, and I realized that actually, I didn’t really feel ready at all. As much I dislike being pregnant and would love for it to be done with, at least I know how to be pregnant. It’s become normal and familiar, and I know what to expect and how to handle it. It’s something I imagine that I have a measure of control over (vain imaginings, to be sure, but the illusion is there, nonetheless).

However, I have no idea what lies beyond pregnancy. I don’t have a clue about the ways that my life and my marriage are about to change. There is excitement and joy, to be sure, but there is also a fear of the unknown. And because it’s the unknown, I must relinquish my illusions of control - and oh, how I love that illusion. Entering this world of parenthood will be the biggest transition I’ve ever made, and it’s a really big deal, and there’s no going back. There is a song by Sara Groves called “Painting Pictures of Egypt,” and while it’s not perfectly appropriate to my situation, I can relate somewhat, especially to this part:

I was dying for some freedom
But now I hesitate to go
I’m caught between the promise
And the things I know

Man, isn’t this true for all of us sometimes, at the start of a new venture? God is always stretching us, taking us out of our comfort zone and asking us to take that next step of faith with Him. I know I’m far from alone in this, and that’s both comforting and strengthening to my heart. As I talked with God and my hubby about these things, and shed quite a few tears to boot, I came to realize, once again, how faithful our Father is. We often forget it, in our human frailty and self-absorption. But faithful He is and always will be. Not only that, but He is also good. Yeehaw! He has replaced my fears with faith, and everytime I’m tempted to let the fears back in, He is standing by to replace them all over again.

So, I think I’m ready now. Actually, my parents are in Montana on vacation, and won’t be back until Tuesday night. I’d like them to be a little closer than Montana when I have the baby, so I think I will be ready on Tuesday night! And in the meantime I’ll continue to wait on God. There’s a reason for every holding pattern He gives us - something I should learn, or something that should happen - while I’m circling this great unknown place, waiting to touch down.

Today my husband had coffee with a friend of ours who lives in East Asia. He’s in town for a few months this summer and they’ve been trying to get together for a little while now. This friend is one of those very intense personality types who is always reading, always learning, always pushing people out of their comfort zone (himself included), and always full of ideas and thinking of better ways to do things. He has strong opinions, but they’re usually good opinions. It’s always stimulating to spend time with him, and for my hubby, today was no exception.

My husband came home and filled me in on some of their conversation. They had talked of many things related to the gospel and being who we’re called to be, and one of the key points was intentionality. Small, intentional communities that encourage and hold accountable; intentional relationships with the people God has brought into our lives; intentional time in God’s word - all of these things might sound familiar and old to some. But as I listened, I realized how small my world has become lately. Preparing to become a mom has, in some ways, consumed my life. My days are filled with laundering little pink things, reading up on parenting philosophies, organizing our home in preparation for a new addition, etc. It is both to my credit and one of my flaws that I generally approach new ventures with a determination to learn everything there is to know, and to attain perfection in that venture - or as close to it as you can get. My approach to parenting hasn’t really been any different.

But tunnel vision isn’t exactly what I’m after, either. It’s been awhile since I thought about intentionally building relationships outside of my Christian circle. It’s been awhile since I felt the fire that I used to thrive on, thinking missionally about everyone I meet and everything I do. I don’t like that. I have seen how people become too comfortable with their lives: get married, buy a home, have a baby, buy a bigger car, find a better job, have another baby, etc. There’s nothing necessarily wrong with this picture - IF you’re able to do it all with a Kingdom perspective - IF you can remain unattached to it all - if you can step outside of it at any given moment and know that there is something much more glorious worth living and dying for, and know that you’d chuck it all if you were asked. But that’s just it - most people can’t do that. Most people get sucked into the “American Dream,” and never realize that they’ve set aside God’s dreams for them.

Lord, spare me from such foolishness. Help me to balance becoming a mom with continuing to become the person You created me to be, and rekindle the fire inside of me for Your gospel and Your glory to be made known to all the peoples of the earth - on the other side of the world, as well as right here in my neighborhood.

One of my earliest memories of my husband, when we first met, was the way that he talked about finding God in fruit. I thought that was kind of weird at first, but when I started to look for myself, I saw what he saw. Fruit is a truly amazing thing that God gave us.

Think about it: take a little tiny seed, add some water and some sunshine, and somehow an entire plant grows up from that little seed. And then, that plant produces these objects that we can eat! Their different flavors vary far more than we could ever try to vary flavors of candy or ice cream. They are amazingly delicious. They also provide us with lots of things we actually need, like vitamins, minerals, etc. Isn’t that amazing? God thought of fruit and provided it for us as tasty & nutritious food.

And on top of all that, most fruit is also beautiful and even symmetrical. For instance, if you peel an over-ripe banana, slice it in half, and roll it back and forth a little bit between your fingers, it will actually fall into perfect thirds! Did you know that? I never knew until my hubby showed me. And the way that oranges and other citrus fruits grow in little segments - they’re like perfect bite-size packages. God didn’t have to do it that way, but He did. I think He must have had tons of fun when he was creating all the different kinds of fruit.

Sometimes when my husband eats fruit, it leads him to verbally praise God, and our snack practically turns into a worship time - IF we take the time to look at what we’re eating and thank Him for it. I think that’s the way it should be. My most recent discovery is the Taylor’s Gold pear. This pear - no offense to the trusty Bartlett - but this pear rocks! The flesh melts like candy on your tongue, and the skin is tender and sweet. Trust me, go to your nearest grocery store and buy a few - you will love them. And praise God as you eat! He loves to provide for His children, and He does so in beautiful, delicious, creative ways. He doesn’t have to do it that way - we could all be eating astronaut food or something. But instead, we can see a little bit of His ways everytime we peel an orange, or slice into a watermelon. Thank you, Lord, for revealing more of who You are through Your creation!

Yesterday we spent the morning worshipping with our church, Hope Chapel.  The progression of songs perfectly captured the “already/not yet” to which this url refers, and I realized how often we allow this reality to pass us by without even recognizing it.  

We started out by singing, “…the King has come! The King of love has come!”  It’s a joy-filled song by one of my favorite writers of new hymns, Stuart Townend.   We sang loudly and proclaimed that He has, indeed, come to us - the King of kings has sent His Spirit to dwell with us so that we may be His people.  It was a lovely, raucous time. 

We moved on to other songs:

“Holy is the Lord God Almighty, the earth is filled with His glory…”

“Gracious Lord…You have poured kindness over me…”

And then eventually, a song from Psalm 130: “My soul waits for you, Oh God, as the watchman waits for the morning, as the watchman waits for the dawn, we wait for you.”

And we began to proclaim out loud again, this time in hope and faith, that He is coming. 

The King has come.  The King is coming.  Both are true, simultaneously, and both are our hope - without one, the other just wouldn’t make sense. This is the tension that we live in everyday as followers of Jesus.  “Life in between” is our reality.  Sometimes I focus too much on the “not yet,” on what is to come.  I’d like to live more in the “already.”  

It’s also possible to go too far in the other direction - yes, the King has come, and there is hope and victory because of Him, but there is much that is still wrong and evil in this world.  There is a “not yet” that we are waiting for, that we believe is coming still.  And then and only then will things be completely right and whole.

Life in between is where we are for now, for today.  This tension can overwhelm me at times; I cry out with joy for the beauty of life and the world around me, and weep for the pain and suffering that the very same world inflicts.  May we live fully in the midst of this tension, embracing both the sorrow and the glory that comes into our lives, and learning what it means to follow Him through it all, in victory and faith and hope.