Very Good News

Have you heard the good news? We, created by God, are so loved by Him, that He sent his only son, Jesus, to come to earth and be the perfect sacrifice. Jesus died to erase the sins of mankind forever if we choose to obey Him by being baptized and following after Him. You probably have heard it. Even typing it, I struggled to not yawn at the cliché wording. But it’s GOOD NEWS. I forget how good sometimes. Well, Sunday, I was reminded loud and clear when my little brother became my little brother—forever and ever and ever.

Isaac decided to put on Christ in baptism, Sunday afternoon February 28, 2010. Thankfully, James and Mom both had cameras to capture what we saw. It is so amazing that the baby brother that I witnessed the birth of, December 1, 1997, who I snuggled and rocked and sang to and love to pieces, I got to see being born a second time as my spiritual brother. I’m going to make myself cry! : )

“Isaac do you believe that Jesus is the Son of God?”

“Yes.”

While Isaac was getting ready. We sang some songs. “I have decided to follow Jesus” and “I’ve Been Redeemed” were two of them. I loved that Isaac’s young friend, Riley Scott, lead one of them. There were still a lot of people there. It was so exciting to see a young person choose to follow God for himself.

Then it was time for the baptism.

Here we were afterwards, singing and praying with our new brother (Clara was hanging out with Auntie Aspen).

At home (we spent the afternoon with my family), James showed Isaac the special features of his new Thomson Chain Reference NASV. The report is that Isaac has barely put his Bible down since his baptism. I am so proud of him and love his enthusiasm and sincerity.

And of course, no one can pull a camera out without pointing it at Clara. So here she is having commandeered Grandma’s apple and marked it up with her little teeth. Aww! : )

Clara watched her Uncle Isaac’s baptism with interest and curiosity. Someday, we will explain what it all means to her. I pray most fervently that someday her Daddy will be able to baptize her the way my Dad baptized my brother.

Thank you, Isaac for being a good example and for choosing Christ.

April Showers of Blessing

This weekend, Christians from all over Alaska came together at the Alaska State Lectureship (hosted in Anchorage this year) to hear preachers from all over the state give lectures on a common theme. It is the highlight of our Spring and something we look forward to for many months. We saw many friends this weekend and got to show off our beautiful daughter to people we have known since we were children. It was very special. Do I have any pictures? Of course not. Ugh. I am not good at thinking about life through the eyes of a blogger. That, and I think I need to be brave and commandeer the camera so that I'm not constantly pointing for James to take pictures of this or that. Oh well. The memories are warm and bright in my mind and heart.

Clara and I also went to the high school on Friday to see some of my students and visit with a few coworkers. It was so satisfying to walk through the halls of Chugiak High School with Clara sleeping on my shoulder, after so many months of waddling through the hallways thinking about my baby, feeling her kick inside me, and praying for her. People were very excited for me and made many kind supportive comments about how blessed I was to be able to stay home with her. I couldn't agree more. I did get a cell phone picture of Clara in Ms. Steele's reading class where I spent so much time last semester helping students and growing my friendship with their wonderful teacher, but I'll have to figure out how to upload it onto the computer.

The big news in our life right now is that we are moving away from our little one bedroom apartment in Peterscreek and moving into a larger two bedroom triplex unit in Anchorage, near the airport. We are trading in apartment 4 for unit C, coin-operated laundry room for a personal washer and dryer, a leashed dog walking area for a small fenced yard of our own, an apartment parking lot for a garage, a PO box for mail delivered to our house, and, for James, a 45 minute commute (in optimal weather and traffic conditions) for a 10 minute one. We are also trading in a lower rent for a higher one and a 15 minute drive to church for an hour drive, but I think we will be able to work with these things.

These are the Craigslist pictures. The garage on the right is ours, the windows above the garages are the windows of the two bedrooms. The trees are in our little front yard. The other units are stacked behind the unit visible in this picture. We are so thankful that we don't share walls, ceiling, or floor with neighbors. Clara and Titus can jump around as much as they want without disturbing others.

People keep asking us why we're not buying, but we really don't feel confident yet of where we would want to settle down, the distance from family and church is a big issue for us. There are two congregations in Anchorage we could attend with wonderful people who go there, but our hearts and lives and work are so invested in the Christians in the Valley, that it's currently inconceivable to leave that church family for another one. Still our family time together, James', Clara's, and mine, is important too and being so close to James' work will be such a blessing to all of us.

This is the view from the side. The door that is up higher is ours and the fence and yard the camera is taking a picture through is ours. I can't wait to see it when it's green like this. I'm encouraged that I like it so much in the dirty melting snow and mud.

So, we are moving this week. I'm amazed with how much stuff we have crammed into our tiny living space. It is going to take a lot of work to get it packed and moved. It's a bit overwhelming to think of doing it all with Clara, but when I think of life on the other side: hanging pink curtains and decorating a room for Clara, having space to invite more than two people over at a time, having room to store bulk organic groceries, and just SPACE, I know that it will all be worth it. If you think of us, please pray that things transition smoothly. Moving can be very stressful.

Clara's Birth Story

My midwife came for a home visit on Friday, February 6th. She brought the birth kit by, which had been delayed in the mail, and chatted with me about plans for the birth. When she went to examine and measure my belly by palpitating it, though, she almost couldn't feel anything because the braxton hicks were so regular and consistent. After she left, I laid down and felt the continuous rhythmic contractions strengthen and regulate. At 2 PM, I got up and began to time them. They were consistently about four minutes apart and lasting about a minute long, though not strong. I called James and asked him to come home.

The "Birth Kit"

In the next few hours, James got home and helped ready the house for birth, my parents came by and picked up Titus, the midwife came over and began setting up her equipment, James' mom came by with a few items, and a church friend came over to get our car to fix its brakes. I was still contracting regularly, but smiling. At 6PM, the midwife decided to check me to see where I was at. I was disappointed to learn that I hadn't dilated at all! At that point, the midwife encouraged us to relax, eat, get some sleep, and try as much as possible to discourage the contractions. She left her things, but went home. James and I ate dinner, watched an old Jimmy Stewart film--"Shop Around the Corner", and went to bed.

James read Colossians with me and prayed for me. The contractions were less frequent now, but a lot more painful. Although we turned off the light and tried to sleep, it was getting difficult. At 11 PM, I felt a really strong contraction, stood up, and felt my water break. James immediately called the midwife who had us time contractions for a half an hour and call her back. The contractions were a lot more painful now, and James helped by pushing on my back. The midwife came over and camped in the living room while we tried to labor and sleep. The worst contractions were when I had dozed for a few moments and then woke up to the intense pain at the peak. The midwife coached me to try circular breathing. We labored all night in bed, in the bathtub, on the birth ball, and so on. I was having long, irregular breaks between the contractions, but the contractions were fairly intense. At 8AM Saturday morning, the midwife checked me again and I was at 2 cm. Progress, but very slow progress. Again the midwife encouraged us to rest, eat, shower, and get ready for a long day--Oh, and call my mother to come help!

The morning progressed much the same way the night had. I labored in the shower, on a chair, on the birth ball, while walking. James carried two pink tennis balls and pressed them into my back or held me up while I leaned into him. I was feeling pretty discouraged and weepy. I had said a few times during the process that I didn't want to do it anymore. Mom came and began to set our home to rights, encouraged me, fed us, and made things feel more festive and positive. James and I were exhausted--especially, James because he could sleep but wouldn't. I wanted to sleep but couldn't. At 2 PM, the midwife returned and checked me again. This time I was at 5 cm. My contractions were still strong, but not regular. Also, I would have one three minute contraction, then the next one would be only one minute. The midwife sent us both on a walk. It was below zero outside, and I waddled like a penguin, but James held me up every time I hurt.

Ready for our walk

At 6PM, we were still going like this. The midwife came in and told me that she was supposed to have me go into the hospital if I had not gone into "active labor" (which is more than 4 cm) by 24 hours of my water breaking. Technically I had, but my labor was progressing so slowly that she was concerned that my uterus would get tired and either A. not have the strength to push the baby out when it was time or B. not contract down to size after the baby's birth and cause hemorrhaging. There was also concern for the baby (whose heart tones had been checked about every hour of this whole process and was doing great) getting tired or stressed and then there was meconium in the waters, which had not changed at all and still showed to be old meconium, but still could pose a danger. She asked if we wanted to go to the hospital or try a few things first. James and I talked and decided to do everything we could to get the labor moving. We knew that if by 10 there was no improvement, we were probably looking at a transfer.

The midwife began giving me herbs every twenty minutes, had me use a breast pump, and labor in the shower. I began to squat, walk, and sway during contractions (rather than relaxing through them). They sped up to three minutes apart and became much more intense. We all got a bit excited. After two hours, the midwife stopped giving me the herbs, to see if my body would take over. The contractions gradually slowed and spaced out again. I stayed on my feet and tried leaning and swaying into the contractions, but they felt elusive and "hard to find." At 9PM, the midwife checked me again, and I was still at 5 cm. We had to make a decision.

Although it meant abandoning everything I'd hoped for in my baby's birth, for the health of the baby, for my rest, for keeping the transfer a positive one with options and not an emergency one calling for an automatic c-section, we decided to go to the hospital. James and I talked on the way to the hospital. We had an unknown on-call doctor, I would have to have an IV, we would be asking for pitocin, I would have all the monitoring, and I would probably be asking for an epidural (I was exhausted and needed sleep, had 5 more cm to go, and was frankly terrified of pitocin induced contractions after so many hours of natural ones). But, I told James. I do not want an internal fetal monitor (it screws into the baby's scalp). I still hoped to give my baby as gentle birth as possible.

It was no fun laboring through getting our stuff together, driving, and walking into the hospital. It was even less fun as I was put in bed, strapped with monitors, stuck with a 2 inch long needle in my hand (it STILL hurts!), fitted with a blood pressure cuff, and so on. A little while later the doctor came in, introduced himself, and told us that I needed an internal fetal monitor and and internal contraction monitor or I would get an automatic c-section. I cried out, "No!" and he started in on how I wanted a healthy baby, didn't I? I stopped communicating right there and let James and the midwife handle it. It turned out that the monitors strapped to me weren't very effective and in order for them to be assured of the baby's safety, I had to have the internal monitoring. I agreed. It was horrible feeling the baby squirm as they applied the monitor, but I just talked to my baby and loved my baby, and we survived.

Laboring at the hospital

I have to stop here and say that my nightmare doctor was offset by an angelic host of nurses. I never expected to hear the words that I heard from them. They quietly assured me that they understood that this was hard for me and not what I was planning, but that it was going to be okay. They showed every sign of being on my side, rooting for me, excited for me. They communicated with my midwife and let her help me, communicate with me, and work with them. They excitedly shared good news about my labor. New nurses came in at shift change (one kindly telling me that she had had a home birth and understood what I wanted), but the old nurses didn't leave because they were so invested in seeing my baby born. God hand picked those sweet ladies.

At 2AM, Sunday Morning, the epidural and pitocin drip were in place (the pitocin was set to 2), the nurse checked me and excitedly shared that I was at 7 cm! I was incredibly uncomfortable and now no longer able to move from the bed. I could feel much of the contractions, just not my legs. I had been shaking since coming into the hospital, now I was shaking uncontrollably and my eyes were dilating rapidly. Close to 3AM, I asked them to call the nurse because I felt awful. The nurse came and checked me again. I was at 9.5 cm! Now I had something to be excited about! I wanted to get moving, turn off all of the things pumping into my body and get ready to push, but no one came back to my room. My midwife encouraged me to relax and let the contractions bring down my baby while waiting for the urge to push.

A little before, 5AM I became really concerned because now I was feeling hardly anything at all, especially not my legs. This time when the nurse checked me, she found absolutely no cervix and all baby! For the next hour and a half, my midwife and the nurse coached me using different positions and techniques in pushing. Mom and James worked to hold my legs and all four encouraged me. At one point, I heard my midwife ask, "Did we make any progress with that one?" and heard the nurse say, "No, no, but she's doing fine." It was gratifying to watch the huge peaks of MY effort on the contraction monitor (finally, I could make my body do what I wanted it to!) and gradually to see my baby's head a little more each time reflected in the mirror they set up for me. Honestly though, even though my mother was close to crying she was so excited about seeing her grandbaby, I really didn't believe that it ever would be over.

Suddenly the nurse asked James to push a button and the room was immediately swarmed with people. The doctor came in once more and took over from the nurse in preparation to catch my baby. The NICU doctors and nurses came in ready to check the baby for any meconium aspiration. No matter how much I had begged the nurses to let me have my baby on my belly immediately after birth and let the cord stop pulsating before they cut it, I was denied because of the meconium. It was one final important loss. My midwife stayed right beside me though and helped me focus despite the complete lack of privacy and the menacing feeling that the doctor provided (I was so afraid at this point that I was going to have my baby taken out by forceps or vacuum extraction).

Then, that wonderful moment when all 41 1/2 hours of labor became worth it. The baby crowned and suddenly, the most beautiful face in the world appeared: dark hair matted in curly wisps to a perfectly formed head and a purple face scrunched with plump cheeks and pursed lips. A few seconds later, I felt my baby leave my body. My midwife gently encouraged me to look at my baby, but my position wouldn't let me. I kept saying, "Oh, my baby, my beautiful baby. Thank you, God. Thank you, God." Then my mother grabbed my arm, "Andrea! It's a girl," She said over and over with tears in her eyes. Someone put a pair of scissors into James' hand and had him cut the cord, and he followed her over to the warming table where they checked her out and rubbed her down. Her Apgars were 8 and 9. I heard him saying, "Okay, give her to her mother now." Finally, they laid her on my chest and covered us with baby blankets. It was all over, and, from that moment on, I wasn't separated from my baby again nor had anything done to either of us that I didn't whole heartedly agree to.

My sweet baby girl--I'd do it all again for you!

I have so much to be grateful for. God was with me through it all, even when it felt like He was far away, His hand was gently guiding and protecting Clara and me.

I have so much appreciation and respect for my sweet husband who never rested or let up his support while I labored. Even in those brief hours when I felt no pain, he did not stop reassuring me with gentle touches and refreshing me with sips of water. I will never forget that unselfish love.

I am so glad that God provided my mother's love and support for me during my marathon labor. She was such a rock, and I loved how well she got along with the midwife! Brief times during the whole ordeal, it felt like a bit of a party.

Mom and Clara sharing a birthday snuggle.

My midwife was wonderful. I am so thankful for her calm and diligent care for us. Her decisions saved me from a c-section and her diplomatic communication soothed so much angst at the hospital. She helped me stay grounded and focused when I needed it most. She also endured my whole labor and then turned me over to a doctor for the last 10 minutes who will get paid by my insurance company while she won't. She's now doing home visits for my sweet Clara and me. I wish SHE had been the one to catch my baby at home the way we had hoped and planned, but I'm so glad that she was willing to do what she thought best for us.

Clara getting weighed by the midwife at her 3-day check-up.

I'm also thankful for my sweet baby girl, Clara, who suprised me in looking absolutely nothing like a Bobo. = ) I am so grateful for her strong heart, persistant strength, and patience to come through it all with me. I've shared my body with her for nine months, now I look forward to sharing the rest of my life with her as her mother. God is good.

~Happily Ever After~

Random thoughts of Pregnancy

I'm 39 weeks pregnant!


Proud and patient Papa and Mama




Anxious big brother--he has no idea what he's in for!

Another week has passed in the Smith family while waiting for our little one. We are excited but content, enjoying our couple-hood while trying to wrap our minds around the concept that our lives are about to change--dramatically--forever.

The highlight of the week was a long anticipated Josh Ritter concert that we attended in Anchorage Saturday night, January 31. I was under strict orders to NOT go into labor before this concert. : ) The gentle folk crooning and acoustic guitar playing didn't put me into labor either (although I am certain that the baby enjoyed the music--I got lots of rhythmic thumps and bumps from the inside). Now it's February, and I can have my amethyst baby at any time.

It's hard not knowing exactly when the baby will come. Although I know it's perfectly natural and millions of women before me have waited in nervous anticipation for the exact same thing.

For you yourselves know perfectly that the day of the Lord so comes as a thief in the night. For when they say, “Peace and safety!” then sudden destruction comes upon them, as labor pains upon a pregnant woman. And they shall not escape. I Thessalonians 5: 2-3

Ack! That's a scary description. Who's not escaping? Those in sudden destruction or those in labor or both? But, there is also this wonderful description from Jesus' own mouth:

A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the world. John 16:21

It can almost make me cry when thinking about it. And then this gorgeous gem from David's heart. How I want to bring my little ones up this way!

But You are He who took Me out of the womb;

You made Me trust while on My mother’s breasts.

I was cast upon You from birth.

From My mother’s womb You have been My God.

Psalms 22:9-10

I do want to remember that this precious child entrusted to my care is not and was never "mine" but belongs to the Lord. It is my job to teach that tender little heart about their heavenly Father so they will choose to remain eternally His. Oh, but I can't wait to kiss that sweet little downy head and each little tiny toe and finger. I look forward to holding that tender body close to mine and being "Mama" to new little person . . .

As you can probably tell, this is a very exciting, emotional, and hormonal time! I am so thankful to have the assurance of God's care and love for all of us. Please continue to keep us in your prayers.

A Short Escape

Spring break is OVER. Spring break is OVER. I'm just going to repeat it a few times so that I believe it. I think I'm still mentally taking a break from stuff (like decent bedtimes, regular housework, and blogging). Now, I'm back though with LOTS to catch everyone up on.

~~~

For spring break this year, James and I decided to escape the regular routines and familiar sights of our life and escape to someplace far away to gain a rejuvenating and fresh perspective on things. So, we packed up our car, dropped off Titus with his uncles and grandparents, and drove to Fairbanks. Okay, okay. So maybe we didn't have the money or time (nor wanted to brave the airports) to really go somewhere more exotic, but from how much God blessed our few days 358 miles further north of Anchorage, we know it was just what he wanted for us.


Friday, March 7th, with a cooler packed with croissants, chicken salad (the best I've made thus far), pears, Amish cheese, summer sausage, water crackers, Pepperidge Farm mint cookies, and Henry Weinhart’s root beer, we set off on our journey. I love road trips. Maybe it's getting James all to myself, maybe it's listening to music or books on tape while watching the ever changing view, maybe it's the comfort of curling up with a pillow and blanket while the moving car puts me to sleep, or maybe it's the deep heart-to-heart conversations that come out of rolling for hours down the road with no end in sight (very soon anyway), but they are becoming one of my favorite modes of long distance transportation. In fact, I hardly need a destination, but thankfully we did have one, and a little after 10 'o clock we pulled into Fairbanks.


. . .

Alright, I won’t give you the hour-by-hour itinerary. Sufficed to say, we had a lovely weekend in Fairbanks. The Mitchells (A homesteading family of 9) gave us a place to stay, several delicious meals, lots of good advice, plenty of hugs and good conversation, and an offer of a home in Fairbanks should God send us there. The Boswells (a home schooling preacher’s family of 8) left beautiful gifts in our cabin (roses, chocolates, and sparkling cider), invited us into their gorgeous home, made us feel welcome and encouraged, and offered to let us stay in an apartment in their beautiful basement apartment should God send us to Fairbanks! We got hugs and “Welcome Homes” from the Tolls, a sweet card in the mail and a classy picture from Willhelm Austen, warm winter clothing on loan from the McEwens, an invitation to a family birthday party with invigorating, uplifting conversation on our Christian walk with the Young’s (Happy Birthday, Angela!), not nearly enough time with the Sarauers, countless invitations to come to the May 2-4 lectureship (sorry Stickels—we’re going to a graduation that weekend), and love and blessings overflowing.



We also got to keep our cabin warm using a wood stove, hold a 6 week old black pug puppy named Rosie (she nestled into my hair and fell asleep), go to the Fairbanks Ice Park (with a church group) to see amazing ice sculptures lit up with colored lights (we didn’t even freeze), have three adorable shadows in bonnets (named Phoebe, Grace, and Rachel), get involved in a snowball war (James did anyway. It drew real blood and broke a pair of glasses), watch Ben Mitchell do the Sunday night announcements without his glasses (*squint*, *wide eyes*, *squint*), play “name the country’s capital” with the Mitchell boys (we girls didn’t do so great with African countries), and drive home on Monday feeling refreshed, rejuvenated, and thankful for the wonderful people that rallied around us to give us genuine love and appreciation. It truly felt like a “hug” from God.



~~~

The rest of Spring break flew by. James worked and used his free time to catch up on his studies. Tuesday I went shopping on the military post with Mom (we got some good deals). I used most of the week to spring clean the kitchen and bathroom cupboards. On Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, Isaac and Adam stayed with us while Dad and Mom took a few days to celebrate their 28th anniversary in Anchorage. Thursday they slept over on our living room floor in sleeping bags with Titus. It was a new experience to wake up to a little boy standing by the bed saying, “I’m hungry. Can you fix breakfast?” We had a fun three days together.


~~~

Now Spring break has been over for a week. The intensity and stress of the final five weeks of school is enormous for James. Thankfully, we’re in the home stretch now. Any prayers on our behalf would be appreciated though. I’ll keep you posted on the updates of our busy spring ahead of us!

The most depressing day of the year . . .

Factoring in weather conditions, low sunlight levels, holiday debt, time since Christmas, failed new year’s resolutions, and low motivational levels while feeling a need to take action (1/8W+(D-d) 3/8xTQ MxNA), psychology professor Cliff Arnall calculated the third Monday in January to be "Blue Monday": the most depressing day of the year. Somebody take a look at that equation; it looks rather fishy to me. It also doesn't make much sense that "the most depressing day of the year" would fall on a school holiday (Thank you, Martin Luther King Jr.)! To take away even more credibility, Wikipedia claims that the whole idea was just a marketing ploy for a travel company. However, I have learned that sometimes giving a solid reason for irrational feelings can make the feelings appear less permanent or make them go away entirely. So naming "Blue Monday" shows that the January blahs can be waved away with a chuckle and a "pshaw" because we know eventually those factors will melt away and life will be good again.

Unfortunately, one more factor played into our weekend. While still feeling highly motivated to have a productive year, thankful for James' extra income this semester, and looking forward to Valentine's day (although tired of sunless and rainy (!) outdoors), on Friday I decided to walk the dog, carry our laundry to the basement washers and driers, and talk on the phone to my mother all at once. Then, bending over to pick up a sock while on the phone, I felt a sharp twinge in my lower back and started a weekend of excruciating pain.

To tell you that I spent the majority of Friday evening crying, pretty much sums it up. Sitting or standing brought horrible crushing pain that made me feel like my lower spine was being pulverized. Getting from sitting to standing (and vice versa) took my breath away and made tears start again. Lying down just caused a numbing pain. My sweet husband brought home a wonderful heating pad which became the only source of relief for me (600 mg of Motrin did nothing, and I was scared to take more). Any hopes of using our three day weekend to catch up on life or to do something recreational were dashed. All I could do was pray, and that just made me cry more!

Little by little, I have tried to work out the muscles to bring gradual mobility with less pain. In desperation on Saturday, I discovered that kneeling somehow did not hurt as bad as stooping and so made the bed and straightened our room from that position (James was already cooking, doing dishes, walking the dog, and running around for me). Sunday, I went to church and sat stiffly in the pew. I gave up halfway through and lay down in the cry room. Monday, we made an appointment for a professional back massage. It was relaxing, but hardly a cure. Thankfully, each little push past comfort each day has brought more relief. Because it was a three day weekend, I have not had to miss any work. Driving in my car and sitting at work, I have realized what little back support those seats offer, and I am working on remedying that. I'm looking into a visit to the chiropractor and slowly beginning to stretch and exercise my back muscles to strengthen them. Life is seeming a little more bearable day by day.

It is quite a wake up call, though, to be knocked down flat while doing a mundane household chore. It is humbling to know how dependant we are on each muscle and ligament in our bodies behaving properly. But beyond that, we don't have the right to make weekend plans because absolutely nothing is within our control - not even our own back muscles. I say so often, "God willing" but do I really mean it? Am I just saying it so I don't "jinx" myself, or am I really saying "God's will is best; I'd rather do what He has planned for me." I can't say what He planned for me this weekend was what I wanted, but I pray that the pain, the humility, and the submission taught me the lessons He wanted me me to learn.

Here is a verse James shared with me this weekend:

Come, and let us return to the LORD;

For He has torn, but He will heal us;

He has stricken, but He will bind us up.

After two days He will revive us;

On the third day He will raise us up,

That we may live in His sight.

Let us know,

Let us pursue the knowledge of the LORD.

His going forth is established as the morning;

He will come to us like the rain,

Like the latter and former rain to the earth.
Hosea 6:1-3

I resolve . . .

So I know it's a little late for New Year's Resolutions, but I've been thinking about things recently.

Now, I love the holiday season. It is such a cheerful thing in the midst of a dreary, cold season. Families carve out time to all gather together. Friends dust off address books and send cards over the miles. Neighbors give each other cookie plates. Strangers smile and offer holiday greetings. It is a time of connection, relaxation, and fun. For all the work and time that goes into decorating, shopping, wrapping, writing, baking, cooking, cleaning, planning, and so on, it provides a special blessing to all involved in serving and giving to others.

BUT, it does tend to lead to a sort of Mardi Gras atmosphere of grab-all-the-gusto. We eat more than we should, spend more than we should, work less than we should (I would say "sleep more than we should", but I really think we are sleep deprived most of the time), and all our good habits and intentions go flying out the window, for a week or so. Okay, if this doesn't speak for you, then let it speak for me!

Then comes New Years: a refreshing re-start button on our calendar, and thus our lives. A time to make promises to do better with the time, things, people, mind, heart, and body that God has given us. So, I will try to make a fresh start while keeping these two things in mind:

1. God does not need us to wait for a calendar date or time of day to repent and do better. In fact, He wants us to turn as soon as we see what we have been doing is futile and not glorifying to Him. To follow His will, we will probably have to do quite a lot of turning over the course of a year!

2. It is impossible to achieve anything worthwhile without God's strength and guidance each step of the way. Perfection is vain (both impossible and self-glorifying) and should not be attempted, except in the step-by-step shadowing of what we see God's will leading us to do.

* * *

Resolution #1: To grow in a passionate and dependant relationship with God. I want to crave His word, ache for time with Him in prayer, and savor His presence, guidance, wisdom, and working in my life, and to do so with my husband.

Proverbs 31: 10-12

A wife of noble character who can find? She is worth far more than rubies.

Her husband has full confidence in her and lacks nothing of value.

She brings him good, not harm, all the days of her life.

How: This resolution is probably the hardest, most essential, least concrete, and most long lasting (meaning it will probably be a goal for the rest of my life). It will require a commitment to make time with God a priority, both alone and with James. I find that when I surround myself by books, songs, lessons, and people that will encourage me in this, I can light my fire with their passion. My problem is lack of fuel to keep the fire burning after my fire is lit! This, I think, will come from harder work and more diligence to my first commitment - and prayer for continued passion! Anyone wanting to volunteer for the job of holding me accountable is welcome to apply!

Resolution #2: To move my family towards better health by providing wholesome foods and encouraging activity.

Proverbs 31: 15, 17

She gets up while it is still dark; she provides food for her family and portions for her servant girls.
She sets about her work vigorously; her arms are strong for her tasks.

How: I plan to get back into the habit of planning my weekly meals, adding additional habits of eating healthier replacement foods (7-grain oatmeal granola from scratch rather than the store-bought bars, etc.), staying committed to going to Curves, taking longer walks with Titus, and finding activities that we enjoy that will keep us moving (much easier to do in the summer).

Resolution #3: To reevaluate the stuff in our life once again and give away, throw away, or sell our excess (I've actually made a little progress on this one in the first 11 days of the year!).

Proverbs 31: 18, 20

She sees that her trading is profitable, and her lamp does not go out at night

She opens her arms to the poor and extends her hands to the needy.

How: I have divided our home and things into zones: books, clothes, cupboards, storage, papers, closets, etc. And I have decided to tackle each zone or sub-zone (textbooks, clothes in the dresser) one at a time, in small, finishable projects. This one should be satisfying!

Resolution #4: To prepare for the future by getting insured, saving, investing, and assembling an emergency kit.

Proverbs 31: 21

When it snows, she has no fear for her household; for all of them are clothed in scarlet.

How: Similar to #3, I plan to do one thing at a time, even buying an item for the emergency kit with each grocery list, and making a budget and sticking to it!

Resolution #5: To make at least one scrapbook page of pictures each week and finish my wedding album!

Proverbs 31:13

She selects wool and flax and works with eager hands.

How: I will use the one night that James will have a late class to claim the dining room table. I will try to keep ahead of myself by printing and gathering photos ahead of time and jotting down future ideas for my pages.