I’ll give you everything
but I’m out of what you need
Here comes faith, walking,
too late to intercede

Love lined with hate
Tears laced with shame
I’ll fight every hour
To keep things just the same

This chaos, it begs,
the waters be still
But still waters would have
an empty heart to fill

You race in my heart
Like the racing of your hands
Tiny toy cars in motion
Heeding your demands

Every moment I lose you
I fight for your return
Every word, every step,

My insides gasp and burn

The product of my life
the result of all my being
My confinement, my prison,

You have come to taste so freeing

"A coma might feel better than this, 

Attempting to discover where to begin.
You're weighed down, you're full of something.
Of sickness, and desertion.
You're weighed down, you're full of something,
You're underneath it all.

So say goodbye to love,
And hold your head up high.
There's no need to rush
We're all just waiting, waiting to die.

Hope in a better place is all I need,
With moments of innocence and mystery.
Oh, it's the little things you miss.
Like waking up all alone.
Oh, it's the little things you miss,
When you're underneath it all.

So say goodbye to love,
And hold your head up high.
There's no need to rush
We're all just waiting, waiting to die.

All your friends seem like enemies
When you're broken down and empty.
All your friends seem like enemies
When you're broken down and empty.

So say goodbye to love,
And hold your head up high.
There's no need to rush
We're all just waiting, waiting to die." -City & Colour

I could not have said it better myself. And I probably wouldn't try. Oddly, what used to woo and tantalize me, now tends to fill me with disdain. Such is the case with words. Words. So many of them fill the e-pages that interconnect the world, so many on pages of books, and bubbling out of the mouths around me every day. It is the innumerable posts, and pins, and pics, feeds, tweets, and tags that cause me to bite my tongue, to stifle my own creative language. There's no mystery in overused words, in cheap talk, small talk, fake talk. I cannot find the loneliness that I desire in words. That cut-through-your-bones, hold-your-breath, search-for-someone-to-hold-you type of loneliness. It's the feeling I have hated all of my life - and yet, ironically, the feeling that has always driven me to make more of myself than I otherwise would have. Now, it's dust that has settled miles behind my tires... a place I cannot get back to. 

All winter, I have secretly longed for a day to peer out from behind my curtains at a dark and dreary day, smitten with my choice to hide from the voices and chatter and waste. All winter, I have hoped at a chance to be left completely alone in the cold house. No voices. No warmth. No comfort or consolation. No one else's thoughts interacting with mine - just the stark realization that I am a lonely soul in a large world. 

It sounds so depressing, or selfish, or ugly of me. And maybe it is? All I know is that it is not new to me. A year ago, almost to date {and I can picture myself sitting in this exact same place pondering these exact same thoughts}, I had recorded my thoughts as follows... 

Deeply, passionately, truly.. I want us to be held accountable for all of our words. And I want to experience the loneliness that reminds me that I am here for one reason.

Someone Else's Kids

There was plenty of commotion on the hill outside our window last week.

And since David wasn't home I had to grab my camera so I could replay the scene for him.

The images seem to capture the best of youth, the 'just hangin out' days that I will probably always miss.

Funny that I haven't posted in forever and now I come bearing pictures and words of someone else's kids rather than my own. But honestly, I didn't know how to write about pregnancy and I don't know how to write about being a mother. I'm not sure what words I could use that would accurately convey what I feel without selling the whole thing short. I don't know what to say that every other mother in blogworld hasn't already said and re-said and said-yet-again about her own kids.

So all I will say is that I'm deeply in love.

I can't wait to see Isaiah through every stage of life he encounters.

I can't stop looking at him, can't stop talking about him, can't stop kissing him, can't stop taking pictures of him for fear that time is already slipping between my fingers as my teeny six-pounder passes the ten-pound mark.

He is growing and changing everyday and as much as that makes me want to cry, I'm, instead, going to force my world to slow down so I can take it all in.

Beyond the Blue

The following lyrics are fantastic to me. In a world where lyricists and writers are all too willing to write about and endorse anything that brings in revenue, I find it so refreshing to find an artist that is so thoughtful, intentional, and biblical in his writing.

My favorite part is:

No one comes unless they’re drawn
By the voice of desire that leads em’ along
To the redemption of what went wrong
By the blood that covers the innocent one
No more separation
Between us.

Because the more time I spend in the Word, the more God enables me to see that Christ chooses us. There is no "choosing Christ" or "giving your life to Jesus" - there is simply the grace of Him calling You to Himself and taking you as He desires. Individuals struggle and writhe to have something to offer God, but, as sinners, will come up empty handed every single time - we've got nothin. The dead cannot choose life and those to whom everything has been given, there is nothing left to call their own. No pride in Christianity, no pride in salvation, no faith in one's own works - just Christ.

Stand on the shores of a site unseen
The substance of this dwells in me
Cause my natural eyes only go skin deep
But the eye’s of my heart anchor the sea
Plumbing the depths to the place in between
The tangible world and the land of a dreams
Because everything ain’t quite it seems
There’s more beneath the appearance of things
A beggar could be king within the shadows,
Of a wing

And wisdom will honor everyone who will learn
To listen, to love, and to pray and discern
And to do the right thing even when it burns
And to live in the light through treacherous turns
A man is weak, but the spirit yearns
To keep on course from the bow to the stearn
And throw overboard every selfish concern
That tries to work for what can’t be earned
Sometimes the only way to return is to go,
Where the winds will take you

And to let go, of all, you cannot hold onto
For the hope, beyond,the blue

Yellow and gold as the new day dawns
Like a virgin unveiled who waited so long
To dance and rejoice and sing her song
And rest in the arms of a love so strong
No one comes unless they’re drawn
By the voice of desire that leads em’ along
To the redemption of what went wrong
By the blood that coveres the innocent one
No more separation
Between us.

So lift your voice just one more time
If there’s any hope may it be a sign
That everything was made to shine
Despite what you can see
So take this bread and drink this wine
And hide your spirit within the vine
Where all things will work by a good design
For those who will believe

And let go, of all, we cannot hold onto
For the hope, beyond, the blue

Said I let go, of all, I could not hold onto
For the hope, I have, in you

Josh Garrels' whole CD is available for free download on his website. Check it out.

Preparing for Baby

The following are pictures of my baby-prep efforts!

Safari-themed wall art, hung with care.

Blocks ready for play.

Gender-neutral clothing collection.

Car seat installed.

Diaper and hospital bag packed.

The aforementioned countdown chain.

And as far as I'm concerned, baby can't come soon enough!!

Our New Family

The overwhelming realization I have been facing over the past year is how quickly life, and the goals and dreams you possess therein, can change.

Lately we find ourselves, mentally and physically, around the house and in our hearts, preparing for our little addition to the family! While the due date is still a month and a half away (March 8th) and our hanging wall chain countdown still bears 41 paper links, with a little 4-day-stay hospital-scare under our belts, we want to be ready at any moment!

During pregnancy, I have come to feel that nine months can prove to be both the longest and shortest waiting period in the world. The pregnancy test, the first doctor visit, the first ultrasound, the first celebrations and sharing the news with family all feel like decades ago... but now that we are nearing February, I cannot believe that our gift is just around the corner! I can't even begin to predict what our baby will be like, look like, or act like. I can't imagine the ways he or she will change our lives and our daily routines.

I can't plan enough, prepare enough, or pray enough to ensure that I will do things correctly as a mom or to guarantee that I will make all the right decisions; but even now as I feel the little one moving around inside of me, I know that I am ready to love. As David rests his hand on my belly at night and talks to our baby, I know that he is ready to love. As we communicate daily, and share our thoughts, feelings and frustrations, as we spend time together and plan life together, as we pray together and read together, I trust that God is creating a family out of us. And it's the most natural thing I've ever experienced; like breathing, I care for David and our baby. Like blinking, like smiling, like the most natural human encounters, I find them upon my heart to consider and put before myself.

I know it will never be perfect, and hard times are certainly ahead, but at this point all I can do is thank God that He didn't allow me to make my own plans. I thank God that He is giving me, daily, exactly what I need.

David cheering me up at the hospital ;)

Get well flowers from my in-laws!

Song of Sorrow

Incriminating heartbeats under wood boards, but now it's in my chest
The unsubtle reminder that tonight will bear no rest

The wife whose loss of control preceded the pillar of salt
I'm calculating the point at which I was frozen in fault

Spring lilies all covered in snow
The tasteless meal I couldn't forego

All results of eyes that had no fill of seeing
And the cause of despair consuming my being

Fingers at work, telling tales from stirred mind
Depicting images that should've been left behind

As if the free bird descended and caged itself
I sing my song of sorrow from the shadow of the shelf

I sing it sweet and I sing it long
Establishing a thick melody as penance for wrong