"There is a song by Steven Curtis Chapman that says:
I can see the fingerprints of god
When I look at you
I can see the fingerprints of god
And I know its true
Youre a masterpiece
That all creation quietly applauds
And you're covered with the fingerprints of god
So look around you and see where YOU can see God's fingerprints. Is it in nature? Kids? Animals? Where do you see them?"
For more on Fingerprint Friday go see Beki at Pampering Beki...
My fingerprints this week... kicks and giggles from a child growing inside me. Ever stronger, ever more insistent little toes and heels and knees and elbows demand to be recognized. Reminders each time that my plans are laughable in the face of my King... a third child unplanned, bringing blessings unexpected already. Those are His fingerprints on me this week.
To that end... I have been meaning to write for awhile. I just don't know what to write. We are surrounded by our day to day, weather, summertime, Josie being busy, Marie and all that comes with loving her.
Wheat is ready to harvest, still it's pretty wet in the fields but hopefully tomorrow we begin. My head has been awhirl with planning, recipes, grocery shopping, organizing a house that is beginning to feel like our own. I thought I could share recipes of what I am making since my kitchen is all a mess with Harvest Brownies, Tiger Butter Bars, breakfast burritos, banana bread (it was not intentional that all the food I make have so many b's in the name...). So I thought I could do that.
I thought I could blog about the importance of wheat harvest, what my Luke and his family do, and how our grain goes to the elevator, east from there and helps to feed a nation. How prices are not what they should be and there's no explanation, how farmer's benefits are being impacted by the government, how new legislation aimed at preventing huge corporate farms is actually going to hurt successful family farms, how the family farm must be saved. It's as American as apple pie and converse sneaks... but that's a little political and I'm just not feeling it now.
I am thinking.
What has been on my mind these days? Why Marie of course. She is. She is amazing. Funny. Sunshine. She is God's love in it's purest form resting in my arms, holding my hand through the night. She is a blessing I am honored to hold. For some reason, how fragile she is is eating at my thoughts. Her voice is changing. It tremors when she babbles, can she control it? Is it the progression of a loss of motor control there? What a thing, for a child to begin to loose their ability to speak. She cannot make words now, why must her ability to squeak and coo also be compromised? Why must she suffer so. I am stuck in a place where it's all just not fair.
On the fourth of July we took the girls to the park. It is a regular park, not intended for kids as special as my Marie. We played. She sat on my crossed legs as I held her torso with my forearm and supported her head as best I could. I held her tiny hands on the steering wheel of the "firetruck" so that she could drive. I pretended corners to the left and right were being taken at high speed, leaning to and fro so that she was driving... she squealed. She loved every moment. She could not have done it without me. She could not have held the steering wheel without Mama's hands to steady her own. She is two.... and my heart breaks when I see the things in her eyes that she longs to do but because of a broken body she cannot.
It is not fair.
It makes me so sad that there are no words to write and I cry, and I pray, and I cry while I pray... I am blessed that the Lord gave her to me to hold for as long as I can, but waiting until Heaven to see her run like she longs to do (you can see it in her eyes) just seems too long to wait. And yet, a moment to Him.
I am fumbling.
My due date approaches quickly, 5 and half weeks to a new life. A new brother or sister, making Marie BIG, and Josie BIGGEST. Worries about this small one creep in when I'm not looking. Will this baby be like Jo or like Rie? Will it thrive and soar or will it sit close, lean on Mama, need me. Can I handle being needed that much? What if, what if, WHAT IF? And I hate it, because "what if" is satan, and I hate him. All of his sin and what not, bringing death. Stupid satan. Stupid what if's.
I try not to think them and just pray... "Lord, let this baby be healthy" is a mantra in my head. And the worst? It is so hard to talk about the possibility of another sick child that I don't know what to say to friends and family. Luke knows.... so I find my head on his chest as I struggle to get so deep in his arms I'm inside him, where I feel safe.
And life marches on... wheat ripens, storms ebb and flow, screen doors bang, we swing a lot. Flies buzz and bite in the evenings, swim lessons must be planned, dinners made, scrapes kissed, laundry folded and snuggles had. I have one hugging my waist, one in my arms, and one in my belly wiggling to be recognized. I am so blessed and it all feels so fragile...
Please pray for the baby, that it thrives. Please pray for Rie. I think she knows her purpose, I think she is so much wiser than me. I'd like to think she see's the angels that I know surround her. I hope that she does not ache at what she cannot do. I keep thinking of ways to make her able...