September, Precious September.

Matthew 9:20-22, "Just then a woman who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years came up behind him and touched the edge of his cloak. She said to herself, “If I only touch his cloak, I will be healed.” Jesus turned and saw her. “Take heart, daughter,” he said, “your faith has healed you.”And the woman was healed at that moment.”

Since we found out about baby R, this verse continues to be referenced to and around me; friends and acquaintances have not-so-randomly emailed or texted this specific verse and simply said I needed to hear it.  Three words:  "Touch His Cloak”.   In moments where I doubt the good and steady Will of Jesus, I feel a soft voice say, “Touch His Cloak”.  

We are nearing our half way point in this pregnancy and most days I feel confident; most days I rest in thanksgiving and praise of having heard this wanted baby’s heartbeat but I will admit there are moments of darkness.  I have friends losing babies and tender memories of heartbreak and questioning.  I continue to carry our friends' baby Quinn, who passed at 4 months old, with me wherever I go:  She is a source of innocence and joy and an ultimate reminder of how short and unreliable being here is.  Isn’t that the continued battle we face?  To trust in the unpredictable but faithful goodness of our Savior?  Psalm 73:26  says it well, "My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.”  I trust Him yet I don’t trust this world.  Does that make sense?  It can sometimes spin me around so I can’t quite find up.  And still...

I’ve started to feel flutter kicks of certain growth and change and my soul rejoices!  I’m a nesting fanatic and R’s nursery is almost done.  I’ve thrifted and created a cozy little environment just dreaming about those intense, emotion packed, unpredictable first months of bringing home baby. Beck was super colicky for the first 6th months so that’s all I know.  They say you don’t have a second colicky baby but Jeremy and I are both first borns and pretty antsy humans, in general, so if there is a chance…I’m counting on it. 

Big Brother has decided that R is most certainly a girl and daddy says boy.  I had this crazy moment in a salsa aisle when I was trying to buy pregnancy tests (and hiding from people I recognized at the store in said salsa aisle) where I thought, “If this is happening; if I am actually pregnant…she’s a girl” but we will see (hormones do crazy things).   

I’ve also found myself soaking up Beck as much as possible, knowing it’s not always going to be just us.  We cuddle more and nap together as much as possible. I look at him and wonder how we’re already here.  He’s so big.  I watch him in the world and he has his own precious ministry; his own impact.  He loves to tell people they are the best and that he loves them.  He asks everyone we pass what their names are…it slows us down a lot when we are out and about but I love seeing how people react to his kindness and who his little heart chooses to tell they are beautiful.  I get teary eyed just wondering why God put that on his lips…to tell a stranger that they are beautiful.  How simple and profound.  He’s ready to be a big brother.  Every time I get tender thinking about it not being just us, I pray this little soul is a blessing and partner in life and love and faith.  

So here I am.  Here we are:  grateful, nervous, and hopeful for what's next. 

Thank you for the prayers, messages, and support of our dreams for our family.   

photo by Crista Ballard Photography