Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Days of Gray 7 {not so gray}

The days have been full around here of late. Quite a few visitors dropping in for a night or two or five. Nesting has kicked in and since there is little else to do (can't shop, and we don't have a nursery...) but clean, I have started detailing the crooks and crannies of every room in our apartment. There have been projects too... "Can you design the graduation invitations for school? Can you watch my kids for a day?" And the projects I sign myself up for... "Can I take pictures of your newborn?" 

This last one was a fun one for me, who has had little time or inspiration for photography since we moved and has never tried photographing a newborn! It certainly is a challenge- but I can see how it could be rewarding if you worked at it. It's a nice gift to give an adoring parent, who probably snaps a lot of photos every day anyway and wants something that captures how sweet and wonderful their new little one is.

Everything they say about working with a week old baby is true as well: they poop everywhere, all the time. They need lots of heat and warmth since they're naked, which means you will end up sweating like a pig. They are not always easy to get to sleep even though they're supposed to be sleepy! You need a lot of time and patience. 

It was surprising to me how much of a "pick me up" doing this little photo shoot with my friend and her baby was. And did I mention that the weather has been remarkable? Don't picture blue skies- that would be silly. But the air has warmed up, buds are sprouting, and the sun has blown kisses at us for several days in a row- albeit through a sheet of hazy pollution and thin clouds, but it was there and we could feel it. 

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Days of Gray 6 {the weight of a child}

Today I listened to the heartbeat of my baby, beating strong at nearly 35 weeks, and threatening to take over the entire middle portion of my body.

Today I learned that one of my loved ones went to the same appointment, only to find that the heartbeat was no longer there.

Today I watched a video on the Invisible Children of Africa who are barely babies themselves.

Today I was at times highly irritated at the way my children bickered, and at other moments, charmed and softened by their antics and blossoming personalities. I knew I was blessed to be surrounded by them, in all their afflictions, failures, and wonders.

Today I remembered, as I have nearly every day in recent months, that a few short weeks from now will mark the one year anniversary of the tragic accident and death of a friend's 10 year old son.

Today I thought about my growing anticipation to meet this newest member of our family, with the words, "every life matters" rattling around in my head, thinking about how I was originally disappointed to see the two pink lines and how, in grace, I have moved away from that thought.

Sunday, March 4, 2012

Days of Gray 5 {keeping on}

The drizzle from the sky keeps coming, and I am beginning to know that to stay here means to accept it. For the past several months, there seems to always be someone coming down with something: a fever, a cough, congestion, runny nose and eyes, sore throat, sleeplessness, and I am beginning to think that to stay here means to accept this as well, rather than be discouraged by it. There is less time for creative pursuits, less motivation or material for photographs and blogging, and I am beginning to wonder if to be here, fully here in the way I have been asked to be, means also to accept this.

The drizzle continues and I go out and walk in it. I listen to words from Tim Keller on tears and our emotions and what to do with them- how the Bible gives us a third way-- not the religiosity that says "ignore your feelings!" or the modern thinking that says "indulge your feelings!" but a third way that says "invest them." And really, the investing happens through prayer. Acceptance then, of whatever is given, comes all wrapped up in quite a weight of feelings... and all of it is poured out, sowing a rich reward of joy, through prayer.

Gray days may not have a lot of color to them, but they are not without their own kind of light, even illumination.