I read the prompt. It’s the word ‘story’ and wonder what needs to be written. What story can I write. And then it comes to me. Their story has never been told. So, I think it’s time to write out Jedidiah’s  and Joselyn’s story.

My hands flutter to my abdomen for the hundredth time, fingers splayed trying to imagine the feeling of the little life in me moving. The pregnancy test was read just a few weeks ago and with excitement I told my husband and sent pictures of the test to family. My first appointment with the midwife was scheduled for 14 weeks to ensure a good heartbeat.

All the usual pregnancy stuff was happening – the fatigue, the nausea, the umpteen trips to the bathroom. And then the day of my appointment came and with it waves of excitement because today was the day  I was going to hear my baby’s heartbeat!

The appointment came and went ending with apprehension. The midwife wasn’t able to find a heartbeat. She assured me though that there was nothing to be too concerned about and rescheduled me for a week later at 15 weeks. Surely we’d hear something then. But no, there was still just the deafening sound of my own heartbeat – no matching beat that kept time with my own.

She sent us to the hospital the next day and we had our first and last ultrasound. I could see the screen and it showed twins!  I had always wanted twins and was excited for a moment until I realized the truth. The heartbeat couldn’t be heard because they weren’t there. My little ones had stopped growing at approximately 12 weeks.

We left stunned. Life had changed when I saw the two pink lines on the stick and now life was changing again. We wandered, seemingly lost,  the rest of the day finally returning home that evening.

For the next six weeks, I waited for my body to give up the twins. I wanted it to happen naturally without medication or a procedure, but that wasn’t to be. My body wouldn’t give them up.

I vacillated between hope that God would quicken them and despair that they were gone and I was a walking tomb. My body had betrayed me and I hated it.

That was the darkest time of my life. I could see myself sitting on the ground with miniature stained glass windows swirling about my head. And then one by one, they started to shatter and fall, turning to ash at my feet. My stained glass dreams.

There were so many times that, as I drove the thought crossed my mind that if I just turned the steering wheel a little to right, the tree or barricade would take care of everything.

Finally we decided to take meds to speed up the process and in the late afternoon, 8 years ago, on January 26th, my babies were born.

They fit in the palms of my hands. Two little miracles that God had gifted to me for a time.

The two made me a Mother.

Though that time was extremely difficult, God comforted me with these thoughts. First, my babies would never feel pain. They would never have to deal with sin! They would never have to experience violence or hear horrible things. And the most wonderful thought I could think of, was that the first person they saw would be their Creator.

My babies would be 8 years old this month. I miss them and what might have been terribly. But I know that without their passing, I wouldn’t be enjoying the 6 year old playing out in the back yard. I can’t reconcile these two – the loss and the joy. But it is what it is, and it is with hope that I share with you the story of my Firstborn.

I’m sitting on the couch looking at the cover of a book I’ve read through twice now. And both times I’ve felt the impact of the words deep in my heart. The stories told inside are true, though somehow I wish they weren’t. Laura Parker tells of her husband Matt’s foray into covert investigations of human trafficking. Primarily that of children. Just writing this leaves me raw, the tears still spilling down my face after having read of the boys and girls whose lives are traded for money.

In her book, Laura recounts her thoughts during those months of investigations. She tells, from a wife’s perspective, the highs and lows that come with this type of work. But through it all is the theme of God’s strength carrying them through.

The rescue of children isn’t for the faint of heart, but for the tenderhearted.

She says,

“We couldn’t get past the idea that maybe there was a noble reason for a good man to frequent a brothel, after all.”

Reading this book has given me resolve to do something more than just sit and cry. In a sense, her story is a call to action. I can’t help but hear the familiar song “O Church Arise”

“An army bold, whose battle cry is love, reaching out to those in darkness”

We are the Army, called by our King to reach out to those who are in darkness. How can we not when Christ has made us free? It is our duty to love the captive soul just as the Father loves us.

So, what’s next? What are we going to do about it? What are we going to do about the boys and girls being sold and thrown away? First, we can pray – we can come before the Father and lay their burdens at His feet.

Secondly, we can volunteer – volunteer our time and money. You may ‘just’ be a stay-at-home mom, and executive, or a single person living on minimum wage, but we can do this! We can fight the good fight with the resources God has given us. Be it $3 or $300. Because as Matt and Laura said in their book, Jesus met the need of the masses with just 5 loaves and 2 fish.

In honor of Human Trafficking Awareness Month and to help spur you to action, I’m giving away a copy of Laura Parker’s book, “The Exodus Road“.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

For the past week or so I’ve seen the idea of throwing New Year’s resolutions out and instead focusing on a word or an attribute instead.  At first I thought this was kind of corny, but the more I’ve thought about it, the more I’ve warmed up to the idea. Resolutions are good but as in most instances rarely kept. I love lists, so the longer the resolution list, the better. The problem is, by the end of January I haven’t established that exercise routine, the cleaning schedule is still not happening, and the Bible/book study has petered out. Then ensues discouragement and a cycle of resolve and failure – not a pretty picture.

So as I was mulling this over, I came upon oneword365.com. It’s a real site dedicated to people finding their word, sharing it with others, and encouraging them in their resolve, whatever their word may be. This actually seems doable. Rather than having a list of things to change right off, which inevitably doesn’t happen, I can look at life through the lens of my word. Because sometimes I feel as if life is happening to me instead of me happening to it. Now there are times when life brings the unexpected, but 9 times out of 10, I know what’s coming but am not very intentional about it. So there it is, my word – Intentional. This is the lens that this next year will be seen through. The care of my husband, children, home, our little homeschool, my writing, computer time, and especially my walk with the Lord, will all bear the word Intentional. By God’s grace I will no longer be flying by the seat of my pants, but will be Intentional with my time, my life.

By God’s grace,

I’m no longer going to let life happen to me – I’m going to happen to it.

What’s your one word for the year? How are you planning on being Intentional?

Dear Ladies,

A week and a half has gone by since Allume and it is hard to believe that it’s over. There were so many weeks and months of planning and anticipation and then the weekend finally arrived.

I’ve read the various blog entries on the take-aways and lessons learned. I’ve read about the callings impressed and reinforced. I too wrote about what God did during those few days and the change has been constant over the week since the conference.

But one fear keeps niggling at the back of my mind and it’s prompted me to pray for all of us. We had an amazing weekend full of God’s leading. I don’t want us to forget what God did. I don’t want to look back and see that the lessons were just the result of an ’emotional high’ and that we’re right back where we were before Allume.

So, my prayer for you is Galatians 6:9

                         “And let us not grow weary of doing good,

                        for in due season we will reap,

                     if we do not give up.” 

Promise me that you won’t give up. Promise me that you’ll write the book. That you’ll build your community. That you’ll love your family because that is your calling – a worthy calling.

I didn’t get to meet many as many of you as I would have liked, but you are ALL on my heart and I know that  God has a plan for each of us.

Don’t grow weary, I’m praying for you.

This past weekend I attended a conference for writers called Allume. I’d never been to anything like a writer’s conference before so was eager to learn. There were sessions on the practical and sessions on influence and I strove for a balance of each, because I’m a new blogger and only have the vaguest of idea of what the seasoned ones talk about (tweetables, anyone?)

So I sat and listened, soaking up the words and received a gift. But what I received was nothing like what I expected when I started to open the package.

God has been working in me for a really long time and the message is finally sinking in. He has called me to a ministry and that is all I need. He has called me to a family- a husband and children and that is a worthy calling.

For so long I just felt like a second-tier Christian because I wasn’t doing something ‘great’. There were no orphans rescued. No center for women started. But He gently lifted my head and showed me that my calling and your calling are worthy, not because of us, but because of the One doing the calling.

So the art created, the music sung, the words written, and the work done, are all worthy because they are for Him. It doesn’t matter who hears or sees us, because He always does. And the noses wiped, the laundry folded, and the tears poured out over the paper are all offerings to Him.

Let us now take heed to the ministry He has called us to so that we may give Him the glory.

This is the gift He so graciously bestowed upon me at Allume.

I have a confession to make. I have a love/hate relationship with community. One on one and I’m good, but put me in a room full of women I don’t know, whom I have to interact with, and I get a headache struggling not to cry.

The call to community beckons me all the way to my core. To build relationships and bear one another’s heart burdens is pivotal. We are called to do this in the Scripture, but it is a call that can leave us raw.

God has designed us for relationship with Him and with others. He has also designed some of us to be extroverted, others to be introverted, and those in-between. In the past year God has revealed to me that I fall into the introverted category. And I struggle to find my place in the body of Christ because of this. God has designed the church to glorify Him, which means that there is a place for all of us – we just have to find it.

Are you an introvert or an extrovert? Have you struggled with where your place in the Body is because of this? Do you feel overlooked or asked too much depending on where you fall?

Chime in and let’s build Community!

To anyone looking in on our lives they might think that there was nothing special going on. That all of this is rather ordinary. But I beg to differ. Our life is anything but ordinary. Just look at the baby sleeping in the crib and you’ll see the extraordinary miracle of life and trust. If you could see my daughter from my viewpoint, you wouldn’t see an ordinary little girl, you’d see the amazement and wonder on a child’s face as she catches a ladybug. Just talk to my 6 year old son. He looks ordinary, but when he is praying for his baby sister to walk ‘like a normal person’, I see and hear extraordinary faith. And then there is my 3 year old. He’s just another child in some people’s book, but when his face breaks out into a smile, it’s rather unordinary, if you ask this mama.

And the love that my husband gives me, the way he puts my phone on the charger before he leaves in the morning or scribbles the word ‘beautiful’ on one of my newly printed business cards – those are extraordinary moments.

Lastly, there is nothing ordinary about the love that weaves itself through our lives, the love that is poured out on us by our extraordinary Savioir.

So, if you see us, and think about how ordinary we are, take a second look.