Life is what HE makes it

The baby is asleep with a fever and my husband is fishing with a friend from work. Here I am with the laptop and the couch and maybe even the time to write. Can life be so rich and full that we cannot fathom each moment? I have gone from broken divorcee to happily married mother with another baby on the way. All of this in a mere three years. My last blog entry was the end of life as I knew it. A new kind of love crashed into my heart with an eternal purpose that has taken many rough spots and smoothed them.

My baby girl is 16 months old now. I am thirty...years old; I don't know how many months that is. There is another life in my womb that is three and a half months in the making. My husband and I finally married a week and a half ago on June 6th 2009. We had been engaged for a year and a half and committed for life since we decided to get pregnant the first time. It was no accident, we knew exactly what we were trying for. The love we have in God's hands is so big and beautiful that it seemed wrong not to bring a life to share it with. People wonder, "Why bring a child into this awful world?" But in Jesus Christ's Kingdom there is only Him and His purposes. They say life is what you make it. I disagree. Life for God's children is what He makes it.

He took a broken and selfish sinner and made a strong and healthy married mother. I've seen people who wear the evidence of their brokenness all over them with tattoos, fat rolls, scars, and alcohol breath. People as thin as skeletons with cheeks sunken sitting in the doctor's office for a "sinus infection" shakey, paranoid, and thinking of white powder. People who hide their brokenness with practiced style and convincing words. Men and women who are so hidden that they can't see who they really are even when God holds a mirror into front of their souls. We, the people, lost beneath the objects that will someday be rubble and possibly our tombs.

But God removes the burdens and unshackles us from our vices. He feeds the truth-hungry and cradles the delicate until they are safely out of danger. He does not lead us into temptation and He delivers us from evil. All of this He can do for those who trust Him. I still wear the memory of what I was to remind me of Who God is. My tattoos, scars, and fat rolls tell a story. It's the story of a Being that made a creation so flawed that no matter what it tried it could not make itself worthy of it's Creator. There was one creature in particular that thought pretty highly of herself in her sin. She thought she couldn't be that bad since so many people were entertained by her and found her attractive. But an emptiness haunted her and a fear crippled her emotions. She sought love but found abuse and heartbreak. When she was stripped of her dignity and terrified in her vulnerability she finally looked beyond this world. The eternity in her heart began to be satisfied with Jesus Christ. Thirst was quenched and breath was given to her spirit. A new creation was born.

I suppose I am about twelve years old in the spirit if that means anything. If spiritual life is anything like physical life then I'm in trouble. But Jesus is our example and He was twelve once. "I must be about My Father's business." And so must I.

I love to look at my child's sleeping face. It's times like that when I remember that this child is God's creation first. I've never seen anything so beautiful so I know it is God's workmanship. Soon perhaps she will have evidence of her sin and brokenness. She will see her humanity and hopefully will see mine, too. Then we can trace my scars and tattoos back to my captivity and rejoice in the times when God parted the sea of hopelessness and rescued me from my sin.

It feel good to have written something again. How easy it is to see God's glory when you form sentences and tell the truth of your heart. All of the people of the bible wrote their stories for us to show His glory and reveal His love. I can read it and I can write it. Words that take the jumbled moments of my memory and decipher what they mean and present it in story. There is such importance in writing, not just to read my own words and be gratified by people reading them. But to read my thoughts and know that they are there amidst emotions and distractions. Blogging allows me to imagine the perfect audience who seeks God's truth and wants to find a friend in my story. What better way to make sure you are saying something worthwhile.