We're Having a Baby!

It's true! We're about to help increase the Hispanic population in our area. ¡Olé! Here are some answers to frequently asked questions we’ve received about our pregnancy:

1. When’s the due date? June 11, 2013.


2. Was it a surprise or were you trying? For about a year, Chris and I took the “whatever happens, happens” stance and left it in God’s hands.


3. Will you find out the gender? Yes. (I can sense judgment from the pro-surprise crowd as I type this.) We just want to know, okay?


4. Do you prefer a boy or a girl? We’ll be thrilled with either.


5. Do you have morning sickness? Thankfully, no! I just feel much more tired than usual.


6. Do you have names picked out? We’re flip-flopping on a few. We’ll share them once we’re a little more decided. When that time comes, please let us know if we’ve inadvertently chosen the name of an infamous ax murderer or someone you couldn’t stand in high school. 


7. Are you and Chris excited? Yes, definitely. We’re also terrified. We’re grateful that we have God’s strength to rely on, however, as well as an amazing support system of family and friends. I’m also thankful for my wonderful husband, whose quiet strength and unwavering faith keeps me sane.


8. Will you (Michelle) go back to work? Yes, I will. Although it’ll be tough for me to kiss our baby goodbye each morning and head to the office, I’m extremely thankful for my job, and I wouldn’t want to lose it. We’re going to try to work things out so that my mother can help with childcare. There’s no doubt that our baby will be in great hands… Although, he or she may learn to talk with my mom's Brooklyn accent. I can hear it now: Yo, Ma! You gonna fix me a bottle or what? I ain’t got all day! I’m starvin’ ovuh heah! (Cute, right?)


9. How do you feel about people touching your stomach? Okay, no one really asks this, but I just wanted to say that I’ve never been a touchy-feely person. Being pregnant isn’t going to change that. I won’t slap your hand away or anything, but if you can resist rubbing my belly like I’m some kind of good-luck-Buddha, that’ll be great.


10. How can we pray for you? Please pray for a healthy pregnancy, and that our child will come to know Jesus and learn to walk in His ways. Pray for Chris and I as we plan and prepare for parenthood (or at least try to). Pray also that we’ll miraculously be able to sell our house and move closer to our jobs in York by the time the baby arrives. Thanks so much!

The Time I Played Hooky

Caught in the act (skipping school at age 6)

Growing up, did you struggle to understand how to please the people who raised you? Unless your folks were as blissfully yoked as Ward and June Cleaver, I’ll assume that you can relate on some level.

My parents have vastly different personalities, and they express their approval in different ways, for different reasons. It was tricky for me as a kid to grasp what sort of behaviors could make both of them happy.

For instance, one morning when I was in first grade, my mom determined that I should stay home from school. I wasn’t sick or even pretending to be sick. She simply felt that it was best not to interrupt my creative flow. At the breakfast table, I’d started some “masterpiece” in marker, and she couldn’t bear to ask me to stop. My dad had already left for work, so she made the executive decision to keep me home without his input.

Waking Up is Hard to Do

[Continuation of my last post on the Holy Spirit’s Fire]

I'm not a morning person. The parts of my brain that handle coordination and reasoning don’t seem to wake up until the afternoon some time.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m clumsy ‘round the clock, but it’s worse in the wee hours. At the end of nearly every day, I discover bruises on my body that most likely came about as I bounced off furniture and doorframes on my early morning trek to the kitchen.

Winter mornings are the worst for me. I have to plug-in my alarm clock across the room or else there's no convincing my little piggies to touch the cold floor. I dread fumbling in the moon glow and trading my warm blankets for a robe and slippers that have seemingly gathered frost overnight.

I think the same holds true for spiritual awakening: without warmth and light, it ain't gonna happen. We need the Holy Spirit's fire to keep us from shivering and blundering in the darkness of our sinful nature:

Making Life Count

It’s been a tearful day for our family. This morning, my dad called to share the news that his sister passed away. After a long battle with ovarian cancer, my dear aunt has gone home to be with Jesus.

Although I'm grieving, it brings a smile to my face to know that she’s rejoicing in God’s presence. I’ll always remember standing beside my aunt in church as she sung from the hymnal. She wasn’t timid about raising her voice to sing for her Savior. And now, at last, she’s singing for Him in Heaven.

“...We do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him.”  - 1 THESSALONIANS 4:13-14

There’s no denying that my aunt lived her life to the fullest. From her dedication to teaching, to achieving her masters in her later years; from honoring her husband, to raising her children; from traveling the world with her family, to hosting gatherings in her home—it’s clear that every one of her days mattered.

She lived a life worthy of the calling she received (Ephesians 4:1). She made a loving impact on every life she touched. I want to live like she lived.

But I have a long way to go.

The Blunder Games

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You might say that my husband, Chris, and I aren’t outdoorsy types. It’s not that we don’t like nature. We just prefer to bask in the glow of our computer screens.

Last month, we bid our 3G signals adieu and vacationed in the Poconos. The trip had quite a few highlights. We took a hike in the woods, went swimming, and tried out a few new recreational activities. Shuffleboard was harmless enough. Row boating was a little on the daring side (we rowed in circles for a while until we sorted things out). Archery, however, was an adventure in itself.

The Master's Brushstrokes

When I was 18, my thoughtful cousins gave me a Chinese watercolor kit for Christmas. Excited to try out this new art form, I turned to one of the “advanced” paintings in the book, which depicted two yellow birds on a branch with a mountain in the distance.

Easy peasy, I thought. After all, I’d had plenty of experience with watercolor in school, and the composition seemed really simple.

So, I dove right in. I swished the tapered brush around in some water, plunged it into the pigment, and gave it a go.

A few minutes later, I was finished. But my rendition looked nothing like the one in the book. Sure, the proportions were close. It clearly represented birds and a mountain. But my short Western-style strokes gave the painting a completely different feel. The beauty of simplicity was lost in all my anxious dabbing at the paper.

Are You an Imitator or an Innovator?

I’ve been a fan of jazz since I was a little tyke. Throughout my childhood, my dad and I crooned along to Sinatra around the dinner table. It wasn’t always pretty, but all of that practice came in handy when I landed the part of vocal soloist for my high school’s jazz band.

In preparation for our first performance, I listened to hours of songs by the classic jazz greats, determined to mimic every trill and melismatic fluctuation of notes.

I marvelled at how the original artists were such innovators, improvising sounds with genuine soul and skill. I knew that my imitation would pale in comparison, but I felt confident that I’d be decent enough to be entertaining.

Our first concert was lots of fun, and I recall feeling pretty good about myself afterward. That is, until I met Mrs. Burkholder in the hallway. She was my former choir director in middle school.