A Prescription for Inscription

For almost as long as I can remember celebrating Christmas, I remember Advent celebrations punctuating the holiday hubbub and family rituals. Drew and I made Advent a focus of our first year of marriage and have kept up the ritual of lighting a candle and doing some sort of reading and reflecting every night during Advent as our family has grown. This year’s Advent season was powerful and weighty for me and our family.

Making christmas cookies on a snow day!

The joy of our young children entering into God’s great story with questions and ideas of their own, the blessing of gazing at a brand new baby on my lap in the candlelight, and the familiarity of the ritual that slows and centers us on Jesus were meaningful as I would have expected. Then there was the chaos of celebrating “Christmas” that gets in the way of eating dinner together and “doing Advent”  as we had busy nights away from home. And then, unbelievably, there was the tragedy that struck our country, the world, and our family on December 14th that made all things Advent confusing, important, urgent, and difficult.

At Jacob’s Well, the Advent theme this year is “Christ our Peace”. The messages were powerful and prepositional: Peace within, Peace between, Peace among, Peace on Earth. Week 1, Peace Within, proclaimed that Christ’s Peace is not the absence of chaos, stress, pain, war, suffering, but peace right in the midst of the most chaotic experiences. Centering prayers and deep breaths helped me as I would get overwhelmed by work, the dishes, kids, and Christmas for some reason by 8:45 in the morning. Ahhhhhh…

Yesterday, Peace ON earth brought Tim’s message of Christ’s coming in the second Advent to make all things right on earth, to reclaim the brokenness, to finally and completely overpower the darkness, and heal the hurting. The refrains of songs all season affirmed Jesus’ mission is healing, wholeness and justice, a kingly reign that is good and pure and loving- lifting up the lowly, helping the needy, and convicting and changing the mighty. Power and prosperity will be redefined.

Peaceful altar at Jacob’s Well

Tim said yesterday we as modern people as “Why?” in the midst of tragedy and suffering.  We seek answers that we might regain some control that feels so lost in the wake of difficult and shocking experiences. The ancient people didn’t ask why but “How long?”– there was a conviction that whatever struggle befell them in the present, would find an end sometime in the future. They held onto hope.

Indeed, this is our Christian Advent. Not just looking back at Jesus’ incarnation as a vulnerable baby- coming as Immanuel, GOD WITH US, but also the Advent of Jesus coming again- the Advent of the full reign of God on earth. The final and complete setting right of all that has gone so horribly wrong. And in the meantime (now, between the 2 Advents), we hold onto hope that Jesus is Immanuel, Peace right here with us, in ways we can’t explain or understand. And if we are faithful, we become Christ’s peace for the people and communities we can touch.

So there’s been Advent and there’s been entitlement refrains for me this season. I drove to meet Drew at his office for a mid-week date last week and looked over to see the woman in the car next to me raising her hands and snarling her face in disgust at me. I couldn’t think of my offense but had obviously frustrated this woman. I know because I’ve done the same thing this month- driven entitled. “Hi, my name is Lindsey Osborne and I am an aggressive driver.” Admitting you have a problem is step 1 right? I often think I should be able to drive at the speed I’d like in the lane I’d like and turn right on red as often as I’d like. Especially because it’s Christmas and I’m shopping with an infant and I need to get going. Motor vehicle entitlement.

The Sandy Hook tragedy has raised a chorus of debates and opinions about our right to own and bear arms. The right to buy a gun, lots of guns, have a gun at home or take a gun out and about, is a right people feel very entitled to. Trying to control people’s rights has many people on the defensive. Constitutional entitlement.

One of our kids said at the beginning of our Advent reading one night last week, “I don’t even like Advent.” We were surprised and asked for more explanation. “I don’t like it until we can light the Christ candle,” they explained. Partially for shock value and attention perhaps, a usually agreeable child speaks of Advent impatience- wanting the whole and finished product sooner- without the waiting. Maybe also, our kids understand the urgency of Christ coming and want him NOW. Either way, Advent entitlement.

Yesterday, as I ruminated on the sermon and enjoyed a Christmas gathering with my family, I kept thinking of entitlement. We feel entitled to our Christmas celebrations, our time off, and our yummy food. All things I’m all for. We are also called to lay down our entitlement as we follow the baby who came in humility, without the slightest hint of entitlement, as God among and with us. A weak and vulnerable baby, a completely human manifestation of God coming to us- demanding not to be served but to serve, and to love to heights and depths and lengths and widths never before experienced.

It think it’s grip v. grasp. If I live entitled, I want control, I grip onto what I want, need, see, and need to do. I grip what I already own. If I let go of my tight grip and instead grasp– I’m loosing control, I’m becoming vulnerable- acknowledging my weakness and my need for a Savior, for One to call me to live outside of myself. I’m grasping- lunging, reaching, yearning to touch the Holy Mystery of Christ here with us, Christ sustaining and sending us. Grasping acknowledges my desperation for something I can’t get on my own. Gripping says I have already obtained and I will not let go.

Another Advent occurrence around our house was one of our kids saying to me at bedtime that they had prayed earlier that day while going poopy. “Oh,” I said, “You prayed that God would help you go poopy?” (Toileting has long been a struggle in our home- perhaps Oakley will have an easier go at going?!). “No,” they said, “I prayed that God would help me stop doing bad actions.” It was complete genuinity (I made up that word- spell check will have nothing of it).  Seeking God’s strength for making better decisions, for creating peace not pain, this child was graspingfor the One who constantly remakes us, calls us to change and gives us the power to do so.

Kicking in his candy cane suit

It’s Christmas Eve and I’m excited to go to church, be with family on Google connect, Facetime and face to face in a family room today. I can’t wait to watch my kids open and enjoy presents. I also hope to hold onto Christ’s peace and power in the middle of it all. Laying down my entitlement in little ways all day and grasping for the wonder of this event we celebrate: God coming here in as unexpected of a way as anyone could have ever guessed for comfort, for peace, for change. I can’t wait, but will. I don’t understand it all but walk in feeble faith. I am blessed to be a blessing.

Merry Christmas!!!

This morning Andi invited me to color with her while I fed Oakley. He was eating on the right so I was left to color with my left hand. I was surprised how difficult it was but thought, “It’s hard, but this is good for me.” I slowed long enough in my head to focus on the moment- the result would not be perfect, red colored pencil lines in jagged circles and incomplete around the edges- but the effort would be appreciated and the activity with Andi uninterrupted. I was reminded of the goodness of sitting in uncomfortable, routine-disrupting, expertise-ignoring, and awkward places from time to time.

The lyrics from The Fray’s song “All at Once” have long-been my favorites.  A line from the refrain goes: “And all at once the crowd begins to sing, sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same“

That the hardest thing can be the right thing, or even the best thing, is a concept I’d like my kids to live out, my own lifestyle to exhibit, and something I’m thinking about lots today.

Here are some hard things that I know are good for me…and some other things that are just plain good:

1. “Do your ornaments hang low?”- Thanks to a reminder and nudge from my sister Laura, Drew and I enacted “Christmas surprise” this past week. We got out all the Christmas decorations after the kids had gone to bed, put Sufjan Christmas music on low, poured two glasses of wine and put up the big stuff. We assembled the tree, hung garland, ribbon, and lights on the railing, and set out the up-high, breakable stuff.

When Eli and Andi woke up, there were lights glittering and touches of Christmas all around. The wonder in their eyes and the smiles that slowly took over shock were great! They got to enter into the decorating process that evening when we got out our stuffed singing animals, hung stockings, and did the ornaments. (This time there was a Veggie Tales Christmas album on and water being served.)

Here’s where the lesson came in for me: they were a little rougher with the ornaments than I would have liked- excited hands make for quick and harsh sorting. Mostly, they were great at hanging up the ornaments and it was fun to once again share stories of what makes each one special or unique. They took great pride in the ones they made themselves or that had their pictures inside. They clustered ornaments by favorites, ones that were theirs, and by where they could reach. The result was a tree with major ornament-less voids and lots of low hanging ornaments. I had to resist the temptation to completely move all their hard work to more eye-pleasing locations around the whole of the tree!

In the end, I’ve moved some but this picture shows I’ve stayed away from controlling the whole experience. I love that Andi sits by it every day and touches her favorites- rehanging them, showing them to someone who’s come over, and even hugging them some days. Eli takes guests to the downstairs tree where his personal collection hands proudly off kilter to the left side of the lower part of the tree. It’s hard for me to not have it looking the best, but its the best that it holds the wonder of my kids and tells any onlookers that we worked together on it as a family.

2. Ring-a-ling and Whistles– the Salvation Army kettle guy outside my HyVee is dedicated. He’s there every time I am which is pretty much any weekday between 8 and 5. He whistles while he rings his bell and greets each passerby warmly. He is the same guy from former years and serves with compassion and conviction. This week and last has thrown Drew and me for a financial loop- we got a huge hospital bill and feel scared and shocked. On the day I was carrying the worry the heaviest, I entered Hyvee with a tear-stained face. When I left, I stopped at the kettle and put in some change. I felt like it was the hard thing but the right thing: to give to others when I was feeling poor and needy myself. I in no way mean to assert that I am poor or in dire need, but the practice of giving and tithing this week has reinforced the truth that we are dependent on a generous God to meet our needs. We are stewards of the gifts God gives and must live to let go of some financial control to show our trust and reliance on the One who owns it all.

3. A No-phone zone. I’m breastfeeding Oakley about 8 times a day/night. He’s great at it and its a gift of a process we both enjoy. However, it’s also a bit of work and time consuming. Since he has a great sucking ability, I’m able to muli-task at times- see beginning of post about coloring during a feeding! However, I also know sometimes its hard, but best, to do NOTHING but feed him, gaze at him, pray for him, and talk to him. I have composed many e-mails for work, texts to friends, watched TV, and read the Bible and books while nursing,  but do try to spend half of the feedings just feeding. Enjoying the quiet, the simple, and the slow of the miracle of meeting his needs in a way that only I can. I shall not forgo paying attention to something so precious.

And now for the just good things…I’m so grateful for these goodies:

1. Preparing for Advent– Love attending Jacob’s Well all year but especially in Advent. The focus on the antitipcation of God’s kingdom rule, the peace that comes through Christ’s presence and the radical reordering of Christmas priorities makes JW a great place to be this time of year. Drew and I have enjoyed celebrating Advent together our whole marriage and especially now that we have kids. I am excited to start our nightly readings and candle lighting tonight!

2. Oakley is SMILING! He started smiling around 5 weeks (he’s 7 and a 1/2 weeks old now) and gives them out graciously to those willing to coo, smile and speak baby-ese to him. It is a wonderful experience to behold.

3. Born in October means lots of long pants for our lil baby. We hardly see his legs or feet under pants and one-piece zip up outfits. Today it’s 67 degrees so we’re letting the legs loose.  It’s soo good to see his legs getting some chubbiness on them and to become reacquainted with his sweet long toes!

Here’s to being open to the challenge of the uncomfortable and the call of the inconvenient that we might grow and change and be grateful.

Wow, what a week can hold! I can hardly get myself to sit down and try to pen this story. Putting the magic, the memories, the euphoria, into words seems impossible: finite words on an internet interface for an indescribable journey that yielded a most precious gift…how do I begin?

Let’s start back at Sunday, October 7th. I was sitting at church one day past my due date. The previous day had passed without much fanfare and now we were “overdue”. The clock was ticking on my chance to have a VBAC delivery for this baby. (VBAC= vaginal birth after cesarean section).

The back story:Elijah was a c-section because he was stuck in a breech position. Andi was a c-section because the hospital and OB office policy mandated repeat c-sections. Four years later, I had realized I wanted a different birthing experience. I wanted to fully experience what my body was meant to do in being able to birth a baby without surgery. I wanted an immediate connection with my baby- holding him/her naked and skin to skin- something hardly possible when I’m numbed from the torso down and stuck laying flat. I wanted to introduce my baby to my family, something I missed with Eli and Andi because I was being sewn up while Drew took them down the hall to meet people and be weighed etc… For this pregnancy, I was ready to advocate for what I wanted and pursued a different doctor and hospital that I thought could help me bring this baby safely and more naturally (less scheduled, less in my control) into the world.

After originally saying that two previous c-sections would preclude me from a VBAC, my nurse-midwife decided that if my body would spontaneously go into labor on its own, she believed the doctors and hospital could safely help me VBAC.  The original deadline for my body to put itself in spontaneous labor was 40 weeks and 5 days- October 11th. I ended up having to schedule a c-section for Wednesday October 10th.

As I sat at church that Sunday, the sermon from Galatians 3 was spot on. The pastor illumined that Paul was reminding the people of Galatia to trust that Christ alone was enough. It wasn’t the work of circumcision or following any other laws that saved them or gave them full rights as children of God. They didn’t have to prove or produce anything on their own: Christ was enough. I felt a peace come over me as I felt God say, “You need to know this Lindsey. You have done everything you can to try to produce and provide for yourself a VBAC experience but in the end, if you lay on a table on Wednesday, I will literally hand you a baby. You will not get to produce it on your own efforts but will receive it from my hand.”  For me, a producer and prover, a hard worker who likes to manufacture my own results, I felt like this was an invitation to stop, to rest, to let go of what I could do and receive. We ended the service by singing a song in which one pre-chorus line was “Unto us a Child is born, to us a son is given“. At this point I was obviously wrecked…those words would come true for me that week. A child would be born to us, perhaps even a son, would be GIVEN to us- God’s generous and gracious gift was on its way. What could I do but be grateful?

Despite the peace of Sunday, sadness crept in on Tuesday. It seemed a dream was dying and I needed to grieve. There were no signs of labor and everyone who caringly called or texted to check on me only made me live more into what was NOT happening. I cried and pondered all day. By evening, I was done. I was over the VBAC dream and ready to meet my baby the next morning. The c-section was scheduled for 10am.

I didn’t sleep well Tuesday night. How can one expect to sleep when one is scheduled to have a baby the next day?! I was awake with a racing mind and had some cranky uterine contractions as well. At 5:50am, I decided to take a walk. The morning sky was still dark, still, and star-filled. I walked down the hill in my neighborhood and felt some fluid leak as I walked. At the bottom of the hill, I stared at the vastness of the sky and felt hope welling up again in the spot I had closed the previous day. I was done with hope, done with believing that I could have a VBAC experience, and yet, I felt optimism opening up again. I did jumping jacks and lunges right there in the middle of the dark neighborhood…just trying to see if perhaps something labor-esque was happening. I read Isaiah 66 on my phone and kept rereading verses 7-9:

“Before the birth pains even begin,
    Jerusalem gives birth to a son.
⁸ Who has ever seen anything as strange as this?
    Who ever heard of such a thing?
Has a nation ever been born in a single day?
    Has a country ever come forth in a mere moment?
But by the time Jerusalem’s birth pains begin,
    her children will be born.
⁹ Would I ever bring this nation to the point of birth
    and then not deliver it?” asks the Lord.
“No! I would never keep this nation from being born,”
    says your God.

Context and proof-texting aside, the text did proclaim God’s nature of bringing surprises in powerful and provisional ways. The scripture glowing on my iPhone screen reminded me of God’s ability to do a new thing at the last minute.

I got home from my walk and got ready to go to the hospital. Residual hope rising while the reality of a scheduled c-section 3 hours away directed my steps. Faith and practicality held in tandem. Drew and I agreed we’d ask if we could check if I was in labor but were prepared that mostly probably, we were going to have a c-section.

Upon arriving at the hospital, I asked my nurse if I could see if I was in labor. She was surprised that I would rather labor than have a c-section so we told our story. She hooked me up to monitors and said I was indeed contracting about 3 minutes apart but that those contractions might not be productive. We proceeded with the pre-op c-section routine and Drew was about to put on his scrubs. At 9:45am, Dr. Carter came in and checked my cervix. She said I’d made some cervical progress in the last hour and a half and that she could break my water, though it was probably already leaking on its own. She reviewed the VBAC risks with us and asked if we wanted to change courses. She offered the chance to labor through the day and see what happened. The original thought was that we would head toward a c-section around 10pm if nothing had happened by then. I wavered in the moment but Drew gave me a smile and a big thumbs up. Literally 15 minutes before I was headed to laying on a surgical table, I was led to a laboring room instead. My aunt had been saying, “God is a God of just in time” and time was up! We couldn’t believe it.

For the next 10 hours, I labored as I had studied, prepared and hoped to do. I was able to walk, sit on a birthing ball, take a soothing shower, lean and rest on Drew, squat and breathe to relieve pain, and move through the consistent 2-3 minute contractions. Time passed surreal-ly, punctuated by our labor playlist- I Will Wait (Mumford) and Sign, Sealed, Delivered (Stevie Wonder), and I’m the One Who Wants to Be with You (Mr. Big) played poignantly. Part of my VBAC dream included getting to partner with Drew in the process of bringing a baby into the world. Drew was a champion labor partner all day- he rubbed and pressed my lower back, talked me through pain, held the shower head on my back, and reminded me to relax, think positively, to smile, and to keep going. We had good conversations and continually looked at each other and said, “Can you believe we’re getting to do this?!” As we had to keep making decisions about going forward or about other twists in the journey, we made them together.

All of the labor pain was in my back and the exhaustion and weariness began to set in. By 7pm, I hadn’t budged from 2 cm dilation, I was discouraged, and I felt like something had to change. We talked about an epidural- not part of my original plan but probably a win-win at this point. It could help relax my clinching muscles which might help me dilate. If I ended up having a c-section, the epidural meds could be strengthened and used for the surgery. The insertion (took her 3 tries!) was not smooth but the relief was  quick and palatable.  By 8:30pm, I felt rest and relief finally settle in. A visit from my siblings, including my sister Nat who had flown in from Colorado, broke some tension and lifted my spirits even more.

By the time they left, I was finally 3cm- it was 11pm. The progression was aided further by a pitocin drip. Also not part of the original plan. (Speaking of the “original plan”…we were 12 hours past the original plan of a 10am c-section!) We felt Dr. Carter was presenting risks, allowing us to weigh options and make decisions, but that she was also offering us medical insight and wisdom. We trusted her professionalism and were blessed by her service to our dream and her doctoral integrity. The pitocin could have increased the risk of uterine rupture but our doctor felt the risk could be managed and my progression was greatly aided by the assistance.

By midnight I was 4 cm and by 1:15am, I was 10! Our nurse was as ecstatic as I was. However, by 1:30am, her excitement had turned to worry. The baby’s heartbeat was slowing to concerning levels. She woke up Dr. Carter (who had at this point committed to working far past her required shift to see me through to delivery!) who came in and started talking c-section if things didn’t turn around quickly with the baby. Fear and worry set in. We were discouraged that after coming this far we might end up right back where we started- heading to the operating room- but we were overwhelmingly concerned with the health of our baby. Drew was steadily watching the monitors while I laid down with oxygen and took deep and slow breaths. The deep breathing was necessary to slow my racing pulse as well as provide oxygen rich blood to the baby. The baby turned around within 10 minutes- very good news (Drew would later say his knees were so weak with fear and concern, he had to find a chair during those 10 harrowing minutes). We spent the next hour and a half “laboring down”. I breathed and changed positions to try to help the baby drop lower in my pelvis.

At 3am we tried one practice push to make sure the baby could handle the stress of pushing- baby did great. I was so sleepy at this point but woke up completely when the baby’s head felt low enough that the pushing could begin in earnest. Drew and I looked at each other with awe and expectation. Pushing was different than I expected and more than I could have asked for! I was ready to use the physical strength I’d worked to develop through Crossfit and found I definitely used the mental toughness Crossfit has taught me as well. Pushing used my abs, legs, arms, neck and face muscles in ways I would feel in the next three days as I was enjoyably sore from the best and longest WOD of my life! I pushed for an hour and a half by the time it was all over but once again, time passed without notice. I would push, take more deep breaths to relax, ask Drew for ice chips and get excited to do it all again. I knew, because of the mirror and the pressure, when we were close to meeting our baby. I pushed harder and longer for the last three pushes. When Dr. Carter said, “One more push Lindsey, or we will get it on the next round”, that was all I needed to give all I had.

In an absolutely euphoric moment, I felt the baby come from the inside of me, out into the world. I felt more than I saw what was happening but Drew was caught up i,n and overwhelmed by, seeing a lifeless rag doll- looking baby come out (all at once) and immediately upon taking a breath, become fully and animatedly alive. He watched with wonder, as our SON filled with life. Drew, through tears and umbilical cord entanglement, was able to call out, “It’s a boy.”

I was immediately handed a crying and grunting and slippery and perfect baby boy. My belly and arms, completely covered with baby and birth, held my hopes and dreams coming true- our gift was being given. The wonderment and happiness I felt in that moment was overwhelming. I was holding our baby that I had just pushed out!!!

We announced his name, Oakley Andrew Osborne, and held him close. He was crying and grunting and had to be taken to the warmer on the other side of the room for some pretty serious suctioning to clear his throat and stomach of bothersome fluids. When he returned to my chest, he was calmed by touch and voice. I’ll never forget his eyes straining to open, one at a time, to find my face. I was, and was witness to, his first sight. Humbling. Awe-some. Priceless.

Reliving that day, night, and early morning has powerfully brought back joy, beckoned me to gratitude, and overwhelmed me with happiness. Oakley is 1 week old today and is a precious baby. His demeanor is calm and sweet. His neck and legs surprise us with their strength. His noises are lovable and his faces expressive. To hold and snuggle and feed him is my favorite thing to do these days.

Elijah and Andi love him- occasionally still forget his name- but daily stop in their tracks to give a hug, a head pat, or a kiss to their baby brother. Andi has been especially helpful on our first two days alone with Oakley- our Maama left Wednesday morning after offering an invaluable 2 weeks of help and love.

Our house is full. Our family expanded. Our hearts overflowing.

Welcome Oakley. We are so glad you’re here, we love HOW you got here and can’t wait to know more and more each day, who you are and how God is shaping us through your addition to our family.

Oakley at Birth and One Week Old:

Going to bed pregnant in week 40 has disrupted my sleep. Today I was up early again. Over the last week or so, I’ve found myself waking up with a head full of thoughts, lists, excitement, to-dos, wishes and musings. I’ve gone to bed wondering if, and hoping that, I’ll wake up in labor. I’ve really been hoping I could wake up in the throes of labor- in the process of, movement towards, and the dawning  inevitability of the imminent arrival of this baby I’ve carried inside for 40 weeks- and 3 days!

Alas, today I woke up 3 times during the night and just before 6am to discover, once again, I am still pregnant. I’m passed my due date and nearing a scheduled c-section date if this baby doesn’t come on its own…like, NOW!

For many of these recent early mornings, I’ve been reading, praying, writing and working- all trying to align my mind and heart for a day of hopeful and productive waiting. I’ve been putting words in my head trying to convince, persuade and center my body, heart, soul and volatile emotions! Some days, the process has worked better than others. In general, I appreciate language and believe words carry great meaning and indeed have the power to change our minds, orient our lives, and lead us to live, walk, work and labor in one way or another.

Here’s a list of words I’ve been pondering in my free time over the early hours of last weeks mornings:

Eucharisteo– the Greek translation of Luke 22:19 which means “he gave thanks”. Eucharisteo contains the root word “charis”– Greek for “grace”, and the derivative word “chara” within which means “joy”.

I’ve been reading 1000 Gifts by Ann Voskamp in small doses.  She writes to encourage readers to live out a life of continual gratitude, of gift recognition and thanks- giving. Recognizing graces that God gives us, we must respond with thanks and will then receive joy. We give thanks, even when it’s hard, even if it seems meaningless, and we are slowly transformed, molded and moved to a place where joy comes more easily and panic and discouragement are kept further at bay. I have a list going on paper and I’m learning to say thanks out-loud, wanting gratitude to permeate my language, my posture, and our family rhythms.

Waiting- to stay in a place of expectation. Yep, this is happening for me….expecting to be in a different state but remaining in another.

Overdue– delayed beyond the appointed time. This is why I’m waiting so much…doctors gave me a date in January and now I’m past it. Granted, a baby is no library book, the consequence of this overdue-ness is mostly positive- the baby is being nourished in it’s God-given incubator and given its own time schedule. I’m getting more cleaning and organizing done than I ever dreamed I would.

Gratitude– thankfulness or appreciation that is a feeling from the heart, or attitude, in acknowledgment of a benefit that one has received or will receive. I like the nuance of the future tense here- gratitude can come before the gift itself. I feel this is poignantly where I’m trying to be right now. I’m am grateful NOW for what I know WILL BE…a baby, a gift, a miracle.

Ready– completely prepared or in fit condition for immediate action or use. In so much as I can control, I feel geared up and all set for this baby’s arrival!

Rest- a period or interval of inactivity, repose, solitude, or tranquility. I probably haven’t gotten enough of this because of all the getting ready antics.

Peace– my theological dictionary describes peace as, “much more than a lack of war…points to full societal and personal well-being, coupled with righteousness and possible only as a gift of God“. This aptly resonates. I have been trying to procure and produce both rest and peace; such tasks are not possible. Rest and peace have onlycome in moments of surrender in the last few weeks, never in moments of exertion.
Grace– Luke 1:30 in the Amplified Bible, “free, spontaneous, absolute  favor, and loving kindness”. Ahhh…grace, the freely given, undeserved, unmerited, gift of God towards me in so many ways during every day. Grace is what I’ve needed in the throes of hormones and transition and chaos during this pregnancy, grace is the gift of a child, brand new, growing inside.
Awe- feelings of wonder and amazement; reverential fear. What I’ve felt when I’ve felt this baby move inside me, stopped to be still and let the amazement of a miracle and growth and new life overwhelm me. I tried for awhile to fit “Awe” into a middle name conversation but it just does NOT work with Osborne. Go ahead and try it, say, “Baby Awe Osborne”. Nope. It’s a no go…a word best for writing, not naming.

These are a few words that are keeping me semantically sane, shaping my thoughts and running through my head as I dream, hope, work and wait in the final few days of the grace given to me that has been this journey of pregnancy and will be our baby. I am ready, I am grateful, in waiting, seeking peace and overwhelmed by awe.

Drew and I spent an epic month of September enjoying each other and the space and pace of our family before the major change of baby #3!

September 1- Labor Day weekend- we are usually in Colorado riding the ancient roller coasters of Lakeside for 10 cents ride ticket. Alas, an August trip to Colorado and the baby’s due date kept us in MO this year. We spent the weekend as a family and with family. Last swims of the season dinners with friends and family, a visit from my friend Lauren Payton, and a relaxing double date with Laura and James.

September 8- Drew and I went on a date courtesy of my friend/neighbor/employer Kim. I let Kim’s dog out daily for a potty break and she sometimes trades childcare for the dog-care. This night we had the sitter before we had a date night plan. We ended up at Dance in the Park at Roanoke Park in Midtown. We were invited by my friend Katie who dances with City in Motion. It was a great experience for us to see so much talent, art, passion, and movement that spoke messages. The night humbled us, reminded us of the myriad of art out there that we often miss/ignore. We dined late night at Blanc Burgers and Bottles- always wonderful.

September 15th- Kim was the sitter again and we headed out to celebrate Crossfit Northland’s one year birthday! We have loved our year of getting buff (mostly Drew), making friends, setting goals, enjoying fitness, and gaining some mental sanity (mostly for Linds). We celebrated at Kelso’s in Northtown. I was happy to pull out the pregnancy jeans and enjoy a cooler evening among adults.

September 21-23rd- A whole weekend of wonderful! We got away together for our much anticipated “Babymoon“. We recognize this is not a given for a couple having their third child but we were intentional, hopeful, grateful, and insistent that it was something important for us to do. GG and Poppy kindly offered to keep Eli and Andi for the whole weekend!  We booked a stay at Peaceful Valley/the Burnham residence, in St Joseph, MO. When I was on YL staff in Savannah I met Janeen Burnham who led Young Life and made many disciples by loving kids for 30 years. She’s still doing relational ministry in a variety of non-titled ways today. As a 22 year old, she welcomed me into her flock and taught me how to make good food and choose the right size of plastic storage container.  She altered my wedding dress in her studio- the room in which she crafts with fabric, paints, flowers, or words. Being in her home is a delight to the senses- smells of good soaps, warmth from the decor, comfort from the furniture, and artistic thoughtfulness in every corner.

       Before heading to the Burnhams, we went to the Plaza Art Fair– once again seeing what others can do and appreciating the beauty, creativity, detail, boldness, and vulnerability of artists. We also saw and enjoyed good food and the throng of a great Kansas City crowd! Our time in Peaceful Valley at the house was all it was meant to be. We sought connection, conversation, and relaxation! We were able to read books and fall asleep in the afternoon, eat slow, delicious meals outside on the deck, hike and walk lots, enjoy the absolute beauty of the place, and talk, pray, and connect about our new baby, Drew’s job, our marriage, old memories and new dreams. We were soooo relaxed. We enjoyed each other and the time away sooo much.

 

September 25th- A Tuesday night. Drew bought tickets to the Head and the Heart concert in June for the show which just happened to be happening during my 39th week of pregnancy! Alas, no baby yet so we went to dinner with good friends and then the show. We sat up in the balcony at the Uptown theater- standing wasn’t going to happen for me at this show! The band had great energy, range, stage presence, and once again, talent. They were easy to sing along with and we enjoyed getting lost in profound and powerful moments. A night good for the head and the heart for sure.

September 29th– The last Saturday in September would have been a fine day to have a baby but alas, still no, which is fine, mostly…. Saturday afternoon, I went to William Jewell’s Homecoming activities in honor of my 10th reunion of my college graduation! 10 years?!

Mostly, we got to have a fun day and weekend reconnecting with Adam and Mary Kate Osborne who returned from a 7 month adventure in South America- Bolivia mostly. We were gracious recipients of Osborne hospitality, generosity, and ate often and well! Adam and Mary Kate came back (tan) and full of joy and life for having seen the world together, helped people fight parasites with knowledge and care, and challenging themselves to leave comfort and enter the language, the villages, the jungles, the illnesses, and the beauty of such a different part of God’s great world.

It’s October now so…Come on Baby Booyah! We are relaxed and ready, excited and prepared, and cannot wait to hold you, meet you, know you and welcome you!

This past weekend took Eli, Andi, and me on a road trip with my sister (their aunt Laura) to Colorado for a family reunion. The family that was gathering is my dad’s maternal grandparent’s family, or my paternal grandma’s siblings and their offspring. Every 3 years for 27 years (1986-2012), the family has gathered, all but one occurring in Estes Park Colorado- most definitely a highlight and perhaps sometimes the saving grace of the whole event!  The original intent was for the cousins to get to know each other. The “cousins” were 11 adults aged 29-48 when the first gathering occurred. I was 6 years old and pig-tailed at the first.

Driving up from Denver with both my sisters and one brother in law, we arrived at the camp later than we had originally intended. We just missed the reintroductions and catch up hour. Whoops- such a gathering is always helpful when one does not remember names and family connections for all one’s 3rd cousins and their children- (who are those kids anyway?- my third cousins twice removed?). Who goes with who and who’s missing questions were answered in the hour that we had just missed by minutes. Alas, we had reviewed enough on the way up to get by that first night and would sneak in questions about certain individual’s names as the weekend went on. Our dear grandma of course had it all straight and one lunch with her and we were caught back up!

Family reunions…what a gift…what a racket…what a phenomenon! Attending as an adult with my own family for the third round of this reunion, I wondered about my reasons for being there. The trip was expensive and took time out of the very end of our last real summer (Eli goes to kindergarten in 2 days!!!). My own first cousins no longer attend the reunion and this was the second reunion in which my parent’s separation and now divorce made for an awkward and less whole experience.What was the point of driving a long distance to spend a weekend with people I hardly know?

To decipher motivation, I’ll take into account not so much why I decided to make the trip in the first place but what happned while we were there last week and reflections upon those occurrences.

By my own definition, a  re-union implies a chronological occurence set to some consistency that allows for an intentional coming together. During the 3 days of the 2012 Torrell Family reunion,  a re- union happened between families extended by geographic distance, familial origins, the additions and subtractions of spouses, deaths, disagreements, and scheduling conflicts.

We came together for the ninth time to continue a tradition, honor a history, refresh relationships, learn from our elders, connect with cousins intimate and distant, and to celebrate and honor our Swedish heritage. (My grandma’s parents both came over from Sweden- her mom was nine years old when she landed at Ellis Island). In the process of re-unioning, there was a meshing/crashing/melding of, mildly different to glaringly opposite, family rituals, political beliefs, parenting habits, and personalities.

In the wake of the mesh/crash/meld, there were moments of joy (seeing people we loved we haven’t seen in years, playing games, laughing at stories and old pictures), awe (hiking part of Long’s Peak, the breathtaking views surrounding the camp as the purple mountain majesty popped out from the cloudless blue sky, watching the strength of a cousin who was mourning the first anniversary of her husband’s death and another cousin’s sheer strength of spirit and muscle who maneuvers without the use of her legs in a wheel chair to be a grandparent to 3 young grandchildren and a full participant in hosting the event this year), uncomfortable (a sharing session where a few were vulnerable but most deep and intimate happenings were left untold- never acknowledged or shared in a public way), awkward  (a friendly and traditional softball game filled with miserable softball skills that turned competitive and during which I completely over-swung and fell onto my knee- a ridiculous enough event without the added humiliating bonus of me being very very pregnant!), and profound (singing and praying together, watching my dad connect and play with Eli and Andi and the joy they shared together, walking right through difficult conversations and coming out more settled on the other side, and the tender and generous spirits of a small piece of the kingdom of God that came together).

It was a good experience- a wonderful tradition and a new memory. Getting time to be with my Grandma Sustad and my dad and sisters were highlights, but connecting with distant cousins also brought blessings- new insights, old histories, tears and giggles. My kids played in a mountain playground and made new friends. We go to reunions not just to receive but also to give- to submit ourselves to people we don’t get to choose to be around but are given to us to get to know, love and appreciate.

As we drove back yesterday, Laura and I started a list of what we want to continue and what we hope to add to make the 2015 reunion, the one our little family is in charge of hosting, an even more special mash-up of families who are willing to commit to the re-union process.