Welcoming Gianna

At 3:12 a.m. on Saturday, September 3, 2011, we welcomed our precious baby girl, Gianna Rose, into the world. She weighed in at six pounds, 9 ounces.

Nearing the end of my labor, the nurse said, “Oh, she has her daddy’s hair!” That was one of the most exciting moments for us, as we knew that she was so near and would soon be in our arms.

We are so thankful, as we watched God answer every prayer we had prayed about labor and delivery, our little girl’s health and our hospital stay.

We’ve spent the week burrowed into our house, soaking up every minute with Gianna. She is, in the words of Mary Poppins, “practically perfect in every way.” (Truth be told, we haven’t yet found any way that she’s not perfect, but surely it’ll come…eventually…maybe in a few years…maybe when she gets her learner’s permit….)

Thank you to our family and friends for their support, and thanks to so many who have sent kind words and love our way. We are overflowing with blessing.

One Word 2011 mid-year update

When I chose my one word for 2011, I had some ideas about how that would take shape. However, my expectations were far exceeded.

Twelve days into this year, two pink lines appeared and changed just about everything for me and Joe. (Truth be told, the first test had one bold pink line and one very pale pink line. I went to Wal*Mart in search of an idiot-proof test with a digital readout: Pregnant or Not pregnant. So sure was I that the result would be the latter that I bought a five-pack – an investment for the future, I thought.)

Soon after, these verses came to mind:

For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place,
when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
Psalm 139:13-16

Again – our little girl being “woven together in the depths” was not what I had in mind when I chose my word for 2011. But I wouldn’t change a thing.

One word for 2011

You know my non-resolution solution. You know “my” words from 2010. Now it’s time for me to share with you my word for 2011.

DEPTH

Lately, I have been so hungry for more. More of God’s Spirit. More of his presence. More intimacy with him. And yet…I have been so undisciplined in pursuing him.

In my spiritual life, I often feel that I am on one of those wobbly children’s toys, trying to maintain my balance. For me, the balance I am trying to strike is between grace and legalism (or perfectionism).

It's hard to maintain balance!

Because of how I was impacted by my choice of words in 2010, I felt strongly that whatever I chose for 2011 should again be my deepest prayer and heart’s cry. So, depth it is. My desire is to put down deep, deep roots in my relationship with God. I want to end 2011 more at rest in the Lord than I have ever been.

I don’t have a plan. There’s no twelve-step program for this. I’m not going to read through the Bible in a year. I have no stack of spiritual books to read. I’ve only got one word. But I think that’s enough.

Did you choose a word for 2011? What’s is it?

2010 in two words

Earlier this week, I mentioned the non-New Year’s resolution that I made last year. Let me tell you a little bit about how the past year was molded and shaped by these two words:

FREEDOM & JOY

Ending 2009 and going into 2010, I was in a rough place. I was feeling very out of control – emotionally, spiritually and relationally. Freedom and joy seemed far, far away. But I wanted so badly for God to restore both of those things to me.

2010 has been a year of ups and downs and round-and-rounds. It has been a year of tough decisions. But it has also been a year of faithful friends and family and a rock-solid community. All of these things pointed me to my friend and Savior, Jesus, in a new and profound way. Somewhere along the muddled way, I realized that God was and is restoring my freedom and joy. He is so utterly faithful.

I’m not sure if choosing freedom and joy as “my” words for 2010 was an invitation, a plea for God to break in and do something, or if I was simply more aware of where he was bringing joy and freedom because I had chosen those words. Or did God choose those words for me, as a sign of what he wanted to do for me this year?

I don’t know.

Christmas Eve and new beginnings

Gosh, I love our church’s Christmas Eve service. It’s worshipful. It’s upbeat. We take communion. I get those traditional, ooey-gooey Christmastime feelings. And yet, we still take time to listen for God and see what he might have for us.

Joe and I drove to my parents’ on Christmas morning and spent a couple of wonderful days with my parents and sister. I’m still at my parents’ house; Joe had to go back home tonight. [Sad face.]

Mom, Mollie and I are doing some after-Christmas shopping tomorrow and then, on Tuesday morning, I’m off to visit one of my friends and her wonderful, zany family. I’ll be back home on the 30th, in plenty of time to ring in the new year with Joe.

On a different note, one of my blogging buddies has an awesome way to forgo the traditional New Year’s resolution in favor of something unique and inspiring.

Last year, I weighed in about New Year’s resolutions. But, thanks to Alece’s suggestion, I did choose two words for 2010. And I have “my word” for 2011 ready to go.

Later this week, I’ll share some of what I saw God do through my 2010 words. And then I’ll share my hopes for 2011 as I reveal my new word.

I encourage you to read Alece’s post and consider whether or not her “one-word challenge” is something you’d like to try. If you decide to choose a word, make sure you check back later in the week to share it!

Nostra famiglia italiana

After my last post, you may be wondering why Joe and I have decided to go to Italy – especially so spur-of-the-moment. (Uh, did I mention we’re leaving at the end of this month?!) Well, it’s a long story – but it’s a good story. It’s a story I want to tell with great respect, because it’s not my story – at least it wasn’t until very recently. I share all of this with Joe’s consent.

Joe’s dad, Mario, came to the U.S. from Italy as a young man. He met and married Joe’s mom and together they had three children. Joe is the youngest. When Joe was five, his dad returned to Italy. The reasons are beyond the scope of this blog.

Joe didn’t know his dad as he grew from childhood into adulthood. He also didn’t understand why his dad left. You can imagine what a wound like that could do to a young boy. However, after coming to know Jesus, Joe forgave his father without needing to understand why his dad had left.

During one of his visits back to his hometown this summer, Joe stopped to visit one of Mario’s cousins. He wasn’t even sure if his dad was alive, but he had been on Joe’s heart in recent weeks.

During this visit, Joe not only discovered that his dad was still living; he also came to better understand why he returned to Italy in the first place. It completely changed the way Joe understood his dad. Despite having forgiven him a couple of years earlier, Joe had never imagined having a relationship with Mario; up to that point, he had assumed his dad wanted nothing to do with him.

That night, Joe shared his newest revelations with me. We sat at our kitchen table with tears in our eyes and decided that we had to try to meet Mario.

Nine days later, we booked our flights.

Prayers answered!

Several months ago, I asked you to pray for Joel Smith, the little boy who was undergoing chemotherapy treatments. By God’s grace and mercy, all of Joel’s scans came back cancer-free this past week! Thank you for praying, friends.

Josh and Jennifer, Joel’s parents, welcomed a daughter, Amelia, this summer. They continue to travel and raise support so that they can enter the mission field in Buenos Aires, Argentina early next year.

I’m thankful to them for sharing so willingly of their lives the past several months. They have invited family, friends, supporters and strangers to enter into their lives and this journey with them. They have been bold examples of Jesus as they have entrusted their son to him.

Hope for a ragamuffin’s heart

For those who feel their lives are a grave disappointment to God, it requires enormous trust and reckless, raging confidence to accept that the love of Christ knows no shadow of alteration or change.

-Brennan Manning, The Ragamuffin Gospel p. 112

(If you don’t know The Ragamuffin Gospel, it’s worth the read. I read this book in high school and I’m now revisiting it, totally soaking in things that have a greater impact on my heart now than they did seven years ago.)

A gift for Dad

When I was five or six years old, I decided to put my crafty side to good use in order to bless my dad. I found a rock in the front yard, along with an odd assortment of – ahem – accessories for said rock, including a piece of metal screen and a few blades of grass.

In my new 3-D art medium, I used both glue and Scotch tape to affix everything to the rock. (Who tapes anything to a rock?!) I gave it to my dad as a paperweight. Not that he had a desk, but what’s that they always say? It’s the thought that counts.

Over a decade later, I found that rock paperweight in my dad’s workshop. It was ugly. It wasn’t even holding down any papers. But it had made it through a move from one state to another – and not because I had any sentimental attachment to it.

I love that my dad hung onto that paperweight for so long. If he’d pitched it, I never would have missed it. He wouldn’t have, either. But he kept it.

It reminds me of how precious God finds our attempts to love him. Our expressions of love for our heavenly Father are feeble, especially in light of his great love for us. But nothing is overlooked or scoffed at. It’s all precious in his sight.

A real-life love story (Part 2)

You can read Part 1 here.

—

“What’s this letter from Lyle doing here?!” Edna’s daddy exclaimed. “I thought we took that to Edna yesterday!”

“We did,” her mama replied matter-of-factly. “That’s a new letter.”

“Ohh, here we go,” her daddy said, shaking his head.

Meanwhile, Lyle and Edna continued to correspond for several weeks. (She finally gave him her address at the nursing home.) Edna’s classmates were so excited any time a letter arrived from Lyle that they would read over her shoulder or grab the pages out of her hand as soon as she finished. When Lyle enclosed a photo of himself in his uniform, the squeals echoed down the corridor in the student nurses’ home.

Christmas rolled around and Lyle was home on leave. He proposed, and they decided to marry before he returned to the service. There was only one problem. In Kansas, you had to apply for your marriage license and wait one week before you could actually marry. Lyle and Edna didn’t have one week.

So, they found their preacher and crossed the border into Missouri, where there was no week-long waiting period. They stopped at a church and the preacher went inside, where he talked to the pastor of that church.

Their preacher had good news: The church was available – and it was already decorated for a wedding later that day! If they hurried, they could use it. Lyle and Edna were married in a tiny Missouri church with only his daddy in attendance. There were no attendants. There was no cake, no first dance. There wasn’t a lavish honeymoon – there was no time!

Over fifty-eight years later, they wouldn’t trade it for anything.

—

“And when I told him I didn’t know if it was a good idea for me to be holding his hands, there was this flash of recognition in his eyes.” As my grandma told the story, her own eyes were shining with tears. “He looked at me and then looked up at Lyle. Then he reached out and gave me a big ol’ hug. He knew exactly who I was and what I was talking about. He remembered.”