Travel Miracles

The first miracle of our travels was the Miracle of Bubba.  Natty has a little stuffed rabbit that is her most prized possession and can not be lived without.  He is especially important at sleep times.  She had decided at one point that Bubba would stay in her carry-on suitcase throughout the trip to make sure he didn't somehow get left behind, but she couldn't hold out on this and so carried him with us in her hands in and out of airports and on and off the planes.  Right after we were denied access onto our second flight and rushed to another plane, we realized as we boarded that Bubba was no where in sight.  My last memory of him was handing him to Natty while we were debating with the LAN people.  I assumed that she must have dropped him on the floor at that point and when we were whisked away, Bubba stayed behind.  Immediately the angst set in and Natty started bawling, "I want my Bubba!!  I need Bubba!  I want him!!"  It was really heartbreaking when you know your child actually considers this thing to be a real, live friend that talks to her and that she lovingly pets and cradles like a little baby and tells him that she loves him.  There was nothing that could be done, as they were waiting for us to seal the door and taxi out.  We sat down in our seats, mine was a bit behind where Scotty and Natty were and on the other side of the aisle.  All I could hear was the faint whimpering of my little girl and I just thought the day couldn't get much worse from there.  All of a sudden, I hear Scotty's voice and he is waving Bubba triumphantly in the air!  I have no idea how that happened, and later find out that he found the bunny in his backpack.  He has no recollection of putting him there and I know that he was so busy trying to figure out our flight situation while Natty and I were playing with Bubba,and then they so quickly moved us on to the gate where our flight was leaving, that I am convinced God miraculously stored him in Scotty's backpack.  I actually cried at that moment and hoped the strangers I was wedged between wouldn't notice.

Natty and I catch site of our ride home- Nana and Papa are here!

Miracle #2 comes on Saturday after our much needed sleep at the hotel in Miami.  We had a nice morning and were just getting geared up for the drive home.  Scotty headed out after our mediocre breakfast to pick up the rental car I had reserved with debit card online a month ago.  Natty and I started surfing cartoon channels, the one thing she was most excited about regarding our journey home.  Not surprisingly, we ended up watching Spanish cartoons on the only Spanish channel we picked up.  An hour passed, another half hour past, another half hour- and still, no Scotty.  We turned the TV off and walked outside to sit down on the steps right outside our hotel door for some fresh air (something I haven't been able to do in two months!).  I heard a phone ringing in the distance and realized it was ours!  I ran back inside (but, slowly, as a woman on bed rest should do) and picked it up.  Scotty says, "Well, it's gone from bad to worse".  Never enouraging words.  He tells me that he's been to every car rental place at the airport and no one will rent to him.  The company that we had reserved with would not accept his debit card because when they did a credit check, he had no history (yes, he has no credit history at 39 years old).  But, this also means that we're responsible with money, right??  Anyway, it's a no deal and I hang up feeling despondent and a bit worried.  I tell Natty what's happening and we pray and I decide that since God knew this was coming, I should just chill and trust He's already worked out Plan B.  I call my parents, who live 6 hours away, and ask if they can come get us.  Yes.  Now, I call the front desk and ask if they can extend us the room.  No.  No??  The hotel is completely booked for the night??  I explain that I am a poor pregnant woman on bed rest and we have nowhere to go and I don't have a wheelchair and shouldn't be walking around.  Front desk chick responds, "But if I let you stay in that room, the next guest will show up and have no where to go."  True, but can't you work a miracle for me, or at least sound sympathetic?  No.  I hang up and really start racking my brain.  We could go to the mall until dinner time- but they don't have free wheelchairs, do they?  We could go to the hospital- they have wheelchairs.  No, that doesn't sound like fun.  We could rent another hotel room in a different hotel, but it will be expensive and still mean packing up and hauling 3 big bags and a car seat and myself into a taxi and walking around somewhere else where I shouldn't be walking.  I had a good cry, pulled myself together, and called the front desk to ask if they'd give us an extra half hour and the numbers to their other Miami locales.  And, oh yeah, if we book at another one of their hotels, could they shuttle us over?  No.  Grrrrr...  So, front desk chick tells me she's extended our stay and I ask again for the other hotel phone numbers and she says, "No, I've extended you for another night."  What??  I thought the hotel was full.  Nonchalantly, hotel chick says, "Oh, we had a cancellation."  Wow!  God again to the rescue!  I hung up and cried tears of joy for the second time this trip, astounded at God's goodness in working out this stressful situation.  I felt so helpless as this person who wasn't supposed to be up and walking around much and the idea of trying to find a new place to go sounded a bit overwhelming.  But, God gave us a way to stay in the same room for the afternoon so that I could chill while Natty and Scotty explored.  My parents came at dinnertime, had some food with us, and off we went- arriving home at 1am.  And now, it's all behind us, we see how God's hand was in all of it, as always, and now we wait to see how He's going to work in my body as we anxiously await my appointment with a nurse at the end of the week.  But, we know, and have been shown so many times, that He is faithful.

Travel adventures

As we were travelling, I had so many ideas for how I would write this blog.  Now that we're at my parent's house and relaxing, none of it sees so important anymore.  But, I'll do my best to recap the adventures.  First, I'll say that travelling in a wheelchair is awesome, if there's some good reason you need to do so.  At every airport we went to, a nice person working there shuttled me around, pushed me to the front of the line, or skipped the line all together.  I do have to say I felt a little awkward at times when I caught the, "what's wrong with that girl" looks some people shot over or when peoples gazes drifted to me as I rolled into a room.  However, not having to wait for anything beat all that.  The first check in went super smooth and we were landing in Lima before we knew it.  When we arrived at the LAN desk where we were to check in for the second portion of our air travel, things got a bit sticky.  After reading our medical document, which we hadn't planned on showing to any airline personnel, they told us quite firmly that we would not be flying their airlines without a signed waver from their doctor and mine.  How we were supposed to know this, I have no idea, and my anger increased as Scotty politely tried to make head-way with Peruvian LAN chick and she shot him down several times.  Before we even had the chance to talk with a manager, wheelchair-boy is taking me to the elevator and we are rapidly walking to Gate 17 where a TACA flight is taking off in the next 5 seconds for Miami.  If they got us from La Paz to Lima, I suppose they won't have a problem allowing the terribly scary pregnant lady on again.  So, after a few brief phone calls by nice TACA dude, we are being wheeled down the plank, pushed on, seated and the plane is taking off.  We all end up in the last row by the stinky, crowded bathrooms, but we were together and we were heading to Miami, earlier than we thought.  This was a gift from God.  The almost 6 hour flight passes after some bland food, two cheesy movies and a short nap by Natty and we are in Miami before we know it.  We find, as usual, that Spanish works much better than English for the helpful Miami airport staff and after rolling through customs, we find our luggage was not able to jump on the plane as fast as we were and so we work with Latin baggage claims ladies to come back when it's due in to pick it up.  Then we wait almost an hour for our hotel shuttle and almost give up hope when we see it drive by, inform us that it's already full and that we will need to take a taxi.  At this point, I'm just happy to be sitting outside by the pick-up/drop-off curb in the balmy Miami sunset while Natty rolls happily about on the concrete (cause Mommy's sitting there), getting filthy.  I think she's happy to be off the airplane.  So, nice Brazilian taxi driver gets us to our hotel, we check in and Scotty immediately gets on the shuttle to go back and get our luggage.  Natty and I watch a half hour of TV and I try to do very little since my body is already feeling the stress of travelling all day and being cramped on board a plane for almost 8 total hours.  I convince Natty we should sleep and we both fall into a slumber, only to wake up an hour or so later and realize that Scotty is not back.  Now, this is where I realize how much we rely on cell phones.  At this point, my husband is supposedly at the airport- but what if he never made it?  Why is it taking so long?  Did he get in an accident?  Did he forget the hotel's number so there's no way to call the shuttle to come get him?  Did he get abducted in the not-so-nice part of town around the airport?  What should I do??  He'd been gone for about 2 hours at this point and in my tired stupor, I was imagining the worst.  Thank God, I heard luggage wheels at the door and jumped up to see Scotty with all our bags.  Yay- they all made it!!  Then, he goes out again, gets us Wendy's (cause we haven't eaten anything since bland pasta at 11:30am), we scarf, fall into bed and rest peacefully until morning.

I am praising God that my body held up under the long travelling hours, that our bags all made it, that we had a cozy bed to sleep in, that we are in the U.S.  And, especially, that someone took the "risk" of letting me fly on their plane.  Thank you TACA!  Stay tuned for more travel adventures...

How did I get here?

I listened to last weeks message from John Piper this morning.  Apparently, for the last few weeks, Bethlehem Baptist Church has been focusing on missions.  Today, Pastor John presented a beautiful picture of the round about way that God opened the door of salvation for every tribe, tongue, language and people and challenged those who have felt that leading of the Spirit to go cross culturally to call the lost in to that open door.  It was a great reminder to me, a missionary, of something that can grow cold in my heart from time to time.  Yes, I live in Bolivia, a country and a culture vastly different from my own.  I plan on staying here, Lord-willing, until my children are grown and have left home.  But, this has become my normal.  Sometimes I forget the calling that God has put on my life, as He has on all of ours if we are His children, to bring good news to all people.  I get caught up in my day to day life, the mundane, and lose sight of the awesome privilege I have.  So, I thought, for my own encouragement and if it would be of use to anyone else, I would remember God's first call and how I came to be in this lovely country.

When I was a teenager, my church had a small room somewhere off the main path called the prayer room.  On the door was a time sheet where you could sign your name for increments of a half hour, all throughout the day and night, to pray for the needs of the church.  The room had a plush chair in one corner, with a lamp next to it, a few devotional books, and a desk where a rolodex of prayer requests from members of the church were hand-written.  There was a cork board next to the desk that had letters from the church's missionaries pinned on and those could also be read through and prayed for.  I usually spent an hour in the prayer room each week and was amazed at how quickly that time went by.  I prayed for people I knew and many I didn't.  I rarely read the missionary letters.  One day, when I was struggling to focus in that extremely quiet place with a soft ticking of the clock in the background, my gaze drifted to the cork board.  I saw an index card with this verse written on it, "no eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived the things God has prepared for those who love Him." (1 Corinthians 2:9).  All at once, I found myself weeping as I heard, inaudibly but very clearly speaking to my heart, the voice of the Lord compelling me to be one who would take this amazing gift that we can not even conceive of to bless the nations.  And that neither I, nor they, could imagine what He had in store for us, whom He loves.  I knew in an instant that my God was calling me to a lifetime of cross-cultural ministry.  I can't remember if this is something I shared immediately with my family or roommate, but I knew at 17 where my life was headed (in a very vague way at that moment in time).  I felt no compulsion to go immediately, but to follow the "normal" path of gaining first a college education and I entered into a major that interested me, but that I assumed would never be put into practice.  I hope to think those 4 years in school and working matured and prepared me enough to take the big step of leaving my country.  After I graduated, I began the overwhelming process of trying to figure out how and with whom to go.  Food for the Hungry very quickly caught my attention in my web engine search and after spending a few months communicating with them, I flew out to Phoenix to meet the staff and become even more convinced that they were the mission I would set out with.  Shortly after, I had an assignment in Cochabamba, Bolivia working with international youth in a youth group setting.  6 months after arriving in Bolivia, I met Scotty and the rest is history.  This is all very simplified, but the main point is that God moved in amazing ways to bring this shy, home-loving, not adventurous girl to another continent on the other side of the equator for His good purposes.  And, I have seen so many of those loving purposes at work in my life, maybe far more than I've seen how He's used me in the lives of others.  But, I continue to hang on to His call when things get tough, as they have especially in this last year, and thank Him for choosing me.

Half way

20 weeks- hooray!!  The first trimester always feels like it takes forever, since the general sense is all-day yuckiness.  However, the last couple of months have flown by, even being on bed rest.  I keep thinking that since the cerclage, 6 weeks ago, time has gone by so fast, but when I think there's another 3 sets of 6 weeks to go, it feels like birth is forever away.  These days, I feel bigger than I look, I'm hungry all afternoon (more than the morning), I'm tired almost every nap time (Natty's)- whether I went to bed early or not, I'm starting to feel daily movement from the little one, I need to use the bathroom almost constantly, and I am already daydreaming about the perfect birth and arrival of our baby.  The first thought in my mind when I wake up in the morning is, "Please protect us today, Lord." and when I lay down to sleep at night, "Thank you so much for keeping us safe and keeping the baby where he's supposed to be."  I've never been so aware of the moment by moment protection of my Father and definitely feel His presence in those moments where there's a twinge of pain or a weird pressure and I wonder what is happening inside of me and if we'll end up in the clinic because of it.  Although God has kept me in great peace, my natural tendency to worry about things outside of my control has brought me to a few times when I just look forward to getting this pregnancy over with (but not too fast!!).  It's such a different experience than I've ever had before, having had such "normal", enjoyable pregnancies with Natalie and Zion.  As much as I am training myself and the Lord is teaching me to trust in Him each day and let tomorrow worry for itself when it arrives, I can't help but have an overall sense that my baby is in constant danger and the simple act of getting up is putting him at risk.  But I also have a strong desire to enjoy the incubation of this little one, thinking that it might be the last biological one for us, but am not sure quite how.  I suppose my "enjoyment" will not be as it was before- going out for tea with my girlfriends in cute maternity clothes or having the "oohs" and "ahhs" from my church family when I show up with a bigger belly each Sunday to church or even frequent daydreaming about the perfect, natural delivery that I've always wanted.  But, instead, an enjoyment of the daily faithfulness of the Lord and seeing Him work in and through my situation to strengthen me and remind me of how powerful and good He is.  I think if I can change my expectations to think this way, the enjoyment will be so much deeper than it has been in the past.

Natty has come out with some funny things since her mommy has been a bit detained in the house.  One of her favorite things to remind me of is, "Mommy- you can't leave the house forever and ever and ever, cause the doctor says you can't go down the stairs."  Thanks for the reminder, Natty.  Another is, "Pregnant ladies NEVER go to church."  Or some form of, "When the baby comes out you can jump with me/I can jump on you/you can teach me to cook/we can walk and walk and walk, etc...".  She's definitely looking forward to things being back to normal.  Me too. :)

Happy 1st Birthday, Zion!

When I look at this picture of our perfectly formed son with all his little fingers and little toes, looking so much like all the other babies I've seen, I find it so hard to believe that he's not still with us.  I found it so hard to believe that he would actually die and even when it happened, I couldn't believe it.  Over the past year, God has taken me through the valley of the shadow of death and certainly, He walked with me there and brought me  back into the light.  Having come out on the other side, I wasn't ready for the disbelief that set in again today upon waking on the first anniversary of the birth of our Zion.  I wanted to celebrate his life, but how strange it is to celebrate a birthday when the person you are celebrating isn't there to share the day with you!  All I could imagine is how he was "supposed" to be sitting in bed with us reading stories like we do every morning.  And how he would have been eating cupcakes with us and opening presents and doing all the fun things that we just did with Natty last month for her birthday.  His birthday has been a fresh reminder that he will never participate in all these things that we dreamed we would do together as a family.
That said, my hope for this day was really to point out the amazing and gracious things God has done through his life and death.  I can't explain the transformation that brought me from questioning God's love and perfect plan to having more certainty in my life than ever before of God's goodness and love.  I'm not sure how it happened or when, but going through tragedy convinced me that my only hope is in Christ and that whatever He deems worthwhile for my life is worth it if it means knowing Him more.  The other things God has taught me seem minor in comparison to the truth that God's love for us is often not shown in removing us from suffering or preventing it from happening, but in showing Himself to us in the midst of it.  I am thankful for that and I am thankful that He chose to use my son for this great work in our lives.  We miss Zion and always will, but we are hopeful for the new life God has given us and that we wait expectantly for next year.

The days roll on...

Finding entertainment while Mommy lies on the couch.

You'd think while on bed rest, I'd have more time to blog, right?  I'm sure I do, but as you can imagine, there isn't a whole lot of exciting stuff happening as I sit on the couch all day.  My day consists of a leisurely morning in bed where I try to entertain Natty through playing with her animals and reading to her until I get tired of that and send her out so I can have quiet time.  She usually comes slinking back in and asks me to read my Bible out loud, at which point she listens quietly for about 2 minutes (or less) and then starts whispering or singing to herself and her animals.  Then she disappears and comes back while I'm praying and asks me to "pray to her"...she means, of course, to pray out loud so she can hear.  It's a little disruptive, but at least she sees a habit in her mommy of spending time with the Lord each day and I love the freedom that not walking around gives me to not feel bad about sitting in bed later than usual to focus on the Word.  After showering, I take up my post on the couch with a few trips into Natty's room when she gets desperate for me to play with her.  Daily, she says, "Mommy, I want you to come in my room and sit real still."  This means that she understands I'm not supposed to be doing much, but she wants me to be with her.  She's been even clingier than usual since I've been home bound and wants to be with me as much as possible, even though we find it quite difficult sometimes to find fun things to do while I'm so limited.  We try to arrange play dates for her a couple times a week, either sending her off like she is right now (at a neighbor's house) or having other kids come by to play for a bit.  This works well and gives Scotty time to get some work done at home while I have the freedom to sit around and not be enticed to get up when I should be sitting.  I did finish a completely hand-sewn doll with clothes for Natty- one of my favorite sewing projects so far and just finished Charles Dickens' David Copperfield, which completely absorbed me for the last week or so.
There have been a few moments of distress as I've felt helpless to really play with and discipline Natty as I would like- struggling to watch Scotty do that as well as a million other things.  Sometimes I get myself settled in one spot and realize I've left behind things I want to occupy my time, but Scotty is out the door, in a hurry, with Natty and there is no one to get those things for me.  So, I sit resigned on the couch to find something else to do until he gets home.  It can be rather tiresome.  Our house help has been absent this week and we are realizing what we already knew to be true- that she is invaluable to us, especially during times like these.
We are continually thankful for how the Lord is sustaining us as a family and keeping me and the baby strong.  We are grateful that He worked a miracle in immigration to get us the 8 month permission to be out of the country when our visas only allow us 3.  If we hadn't received that, we would have lost our visas and had to start from scratch, for the 3rd time, in what is a lengthy, frustrating and expensive process.  God is so good to us!  We wake up every morning thinking about being back in the US and about this time, every time we make plans to go home, we start imaging our home country as this beautiful, orderly, exciting, magical, almost perfect place that we've been away from for so long.  It doesn't take long for our bubble to burst after getting home, but we know that it will be a great blessing to be among family and have some of the enjoyments that we don't have here, as well as the superb medical care.  We're literally counting the days.
It's hard to believe that Zion's first birthday would be next week- can it be possible that my little boy was born almost a year ago??  It's hard to separate him from the pain we experienced in his unexpected arrival and short, rocky life and as I try not to dwell on these times in order to not make myself nervous about this pregnancy, I find myself also not able to think a lot about him.  However, there is always a special place in my heart for all that God has done in me and has yet to do through his life and I am thankful to the Lord for using that little boy to change me so profoundly.  More on that in his birthday post...

I would be remiss to not mention again the amazing husband I have.  He cooked curried lentils yesterday.  He baked chocolate chip and butterscotch cookie bars a week or so ago.  He bathes Natty, dresses her, puts her to sleep, makes her laugh, talks to her animals.  He waits on me like a servant and takes Natty places with him when he knows it will be too much to have me look after her.  He continues in his great attitude and loving service to his family until he's exhausted.  We couldn't do this without him. 

Birthday girl!

This face pretty much characterizes Natty's entire birthday yesterday.  She woke up and we sang Happy Birthday and Cumpleaños Feliz to her while she bounced up and down on the bed and clapped.  She opened a few presents, we played with them, and then she got on her fancy dress (she never dresses up) and went out for donuts with Daddy.  I decided not to waste my calories on less that adequate Bolivian donuts but then regretted my decision when Scotty got back with a particularly fluffy cinnamon and sugar one.  I got a few bites of each and was satisfied, knowing I would mow down a few pieces of birthday cake later in the day.  For the next few hours Natty opened a few more presents, played with them and ran around like a crazy person.  At one point she randomly said while walking around on her new Melissa and Doug floor puzzle, "This is such a fun day for me!"  I whipped up a cake from my desk chair and Scotty helped me to assemble it into a fish shape during nap time and I wasn't sure I could wait until her friends came over to have a piece.  

There was a strange outburst of wailing at nap time that was very uncharacteristic and honestly, a little scary.  I had to call Scotty home since I can't get up and down much and he laid down with Natty for another half hour and she awoke her normal self..  2 of her best friends showed up and the fun really began.  Then came 2 more, 3 a little later, and an unexpected 4 more from the neighborhood after we had already begun to eat cake.  I was only expecting 4 kids total- but, whatever.  The moms brought more cake and cupcakes and marshmallows and lolly pops and I'm pretty sure Natty ate more sugar in an hour long period than her entire life combined.  There's a lot of peer pressure here to give your kids everything and anything they want, even when Mommy knows it will make them sick later.  I let her eat a majority of what she wanted and she didn't throw up that night, so I guess I did OK.  She had a blast and got some more stuffed animals to add to the mountain she has already and we watched a home video of her first birthday party and I dreamed about having a really little one again.  It was a great day and even though I think we went a little overboard on the presents, it was such a gift to see such joy and enthusiasm in my little girl, especially as she enjoyed all the loving friends God has given her.

Today I've had a lot of alone time.  It's been wonderful.  Scotty's taken Natty out most of the day and I've done a lot of necessary research online, read, slept and eaten left-over birthday cake.  I've been wondering lately why I feel so calm about everything.  A lot of friends here are concerned about how I'm doing emotionally- how I'm handling everything.  I can honestly tell them that I am fine!  Then I think, should I be fine?  Should I be freaking out more?  Am I not letting myself be aware of what could happen and living in a fantasy world??  No.  I know what could happen.  I've been through the absolutely worst case scenario and actually lived through it.  I think I've been through a mom's worst nightmare, but somehow God has made me stronger on the other side.  Not only stronger, but more aware of His strength, of His goodness.  I am choosing not to focus on what could happen, but instead, to believe He has everything under control.  I am remembering that He loves this child more than me and He loves me more than I can understand.  How can you worry when this is clear to you?  I am so grateful to Him for making this clear to me, even when it had to come through the death of a beloved son.  But now, I can go through a complicated, scary pregnancy and be at peace (most of the time).  I can trust that all the numerous details of our time in the states- where we'll live, what doctor we'll have, how I'll make it all happen while on bed rest- will be worked out by His gracious hand.  I will look forward to being witness of how He perfectly works it all out.

Don't waste your bed rest.

A few years ago, John Piper put out a book called Don't Waste Your Life.  It's one that has greatly impacted the Christian community to take stock of what we are living for and think through how to live a  life that as you look back over the years convinces you and others that you have lived to the glory of God.  He wrote an article not too long after that as he was struggling with cancer called Don't Waste Your Cancer, calling each of us to not forget how God fulfills His perfect plans for us through the suffering that we experience.  I'm home from church today, laying on Natty's bed in the sun and listening to a sermon from my pastor Coty in Charlotte that he preached while he and Beth were visiting last month.  I was sick the day he preached, but heard the message was powerful and wanted to hear it as I rest this morning.  Our church is studying the book of Genesis and the passage that Coty covered told the story of how Abraham, in an effort to fulfill his responsibilities before dying, sent his servant to his old country to find a wife for his son Isaac.  Looking at the lives of Abraham, the servant and Rebekah, Coty shows us 4 points that we can follow in order to not waste our life.  As I listened, the most immediate way I can apply them is in not wasting my bed rest.  So, I will pray (number one).  The servant bathed his journey in prayer as he sought out God's perfect plan for a wife for Isaac.  I will pray that God will fulfill His promises in scripture in this time of waiting- that I will feel His constant presence, that I will know He is mighty to do great things in my body and the life of my family, that He will meet every need.  Two, I will act.  Abraham didn't wait for a descendant to happen to take a trip to visit him, bringing the perfect wife in tow.  He sent out his servant to find one and bring her back so that Isaac would not return to the land God called them out of, but remain in the promised land.  My action looks more like lack of action, but that too is action, right?  I have chosen to stop my normal activities, ask my friends and family for help, put my feet up and choose to have a joyful, God-glorifying attitude.  I will act to organize my days, to show my daughter that she is loved and that we trust God in these challenges, to make the most of my downtime by praying, reading God's Word and trying to encourage others.  Three, I will trust God.  All of the characters in this story believed God and believed He would fulfill His promises.  I must trust, as I learned in a new way with Zion, that God is good.  He is love.  He loves my family.  He will take care of us.  He will do what is best for us.  He will never forsake us, no matter what.  And finally, I will give thanks.  How Abraham and his family must have praised and given thanks to the Lord for the way in which He worked out so perfectly the meeting between the servant and Rebekah, the willingness of Laban and the love between Isaac and Rebekah.  I will give thanks for every day that this baby stays safe inside.  I will give thanks for a successful cerclage.  I will give thanks for the numerous amount of people around me that are helping me take care of Natty, visiting, cooking meals and buying groceries.  I will give thanks that I can return to the U.S. where I will receive better medical care.  I will give thanks for the life of this child, for my healthy little girl, for my loving and strong husband, for my supportive family, for God's faithfulness.  I do not want to waste my bed rest.

Bed rest, Day One

Don't worry, I'm not going to write about every day of bed rest. I'm sure it would be even less interesting than actually being on bed rest. But, I do feel that I've had a good start to my official bed rest days and thought I'd give you a little look into my world. First, let me say how awesome, truly amazing, my husband is for getting up early with Natty (something I always did before), fixing me cereal, making lunch and dinner, washing dishes, taking Natty to the bathroom, getting me drinks and snacks and whatever random things I need, AND preparing a sermon. I'm sure there's more in there, but you get the idea. However, I feel like I was fairly productive as well, for someone who sits or lays around about 23 1/3 hours of the day. I was able to find the perfect, cheapest flight back to the states for us last night and spent a good amount of time looking for a reasonable hotel in Miami we could stay one night in. I spent time in the Word, read books to Natty, had a nice chat with a good friend online, wrote some important emails, found a strong leader in the quest for a boy's name (just in case), helped make dinner from Scotty's rolling office chair, took a shower, put puzzles together with Natty and am blog writing! One of the nicest parts of the day was when a new neighbor friend called up and said, "I have some time right now if you want me to come over and look at your sewing machine." I had been in the middle of a simple project when the tension got all messed up (yes, maybe I twisted a screw a lot at some point) and I couldn't fix it. So, she and her husband came over, brought cake, and fixed my machine. While we were chatting, another family from the neighborhood showed up with a loaf of bread and jello (?) and spent about 45 mins with us! I felt so loved and so thankful for these friends who don't mind walking over at anytime to say "hi" and offer their assistance in any way possible. I called a different neighborhood friend this morning to see if Natty could go play with her girls (there was a big strike today- no school) and she said she'd take her for the whole day if we wanted! Wow...such generosity. So, it was a good day and if everyday is like this, I think we'll be alright.

Post-cerclage, Part 2

I was up early at the clinic this morning. It's hard to sleep with all that is swirling around in my head. The nurses seem to have awoken as well- there is clinking and walking and buzzing and ringing outside of my door and I was expecting someone to come in at any moment to pump something else into my arm or give me some other pill to take. And, I was thinking about every day of the rest of this pregnancy and how I was going to do it. Not good. I had a visit from my doctor last night who begged me, several times, to realize how important it is to "take it easy". She explained that upon seeing my cervix, she realized how very short it already is and that I basically need to be a some form of bed rest from now on. I kept asking questions as to what this means: could I shower? could I cook? could I leave the house? She gave me permission to leave the house maybe once a week for Scotty to take me for a drive. But basically, I need to lay down wherever I am and try not to get up or walk around most of the day. How does one do this??? I have an almost 3 year old who needs me and wants things and wants to play. What if she needs my help in the bathroom? What if I forgot to get something out of my room that I needed? The feeling that I've already been experiencing of being slightly nervous about every movement I make is just going to intensify. And how do I go to the park for Natty's birthday party next week?! That's something that will be very sad to miss. And that brings up this whole other topic- missing things. We're leaving for the states in a month and a half. I've dreamed of spending time with my family at the library, stores, restaurants we like, parks, etc... I'm going to miss all of that! Instead, I'll be confined to the house- to the couch. Yes, this does very much sound like complaining to me too. Please know these are the first moments of this news really starting to settle in and it's a pretty hard blow to take. I have a lot of work to do to really change my perspective on this pregnancy. With Natty, I lived a very normal, active lifestyle and had no problems. With Zion, the same until unexpected, sudden things started happening at 28 weeks. It's very hard to grasp an entire pregnancy of limits, pretty strict limits. But, I've already realized as I did before that I'm just going to have to take things a day at a time. I want to be thankful for the new child God has given us and make myself resolute in doing whatever it takes, at whatever cost to me and my family, for this baby to be born healthy. As I say that, however, I balk at the idea of my husband and daughter suffering because of my limitations. I will not be available for Natty like she would want me to be or like I want to be. I will have to call upon Scotty to do far more than he already does for us, which is quite a bit. They, too, will have to sacrifice. There's a verse people quote from the Bible quite frequently that says something about God not giving you more than you can bear. That verse does not exist. I think they're thinking of 1 Corinthians 10:13, which says something different. God gives us things we can't bear all the time so that we will come to Him and let Him bear them for us. This is one of those times the Lord is asking me again to come to Him and let Him take this burden and give me a greater portion of grace to thrive in this situation. I'm not sure how we'll do it but I know this isn't as surprising to Him as it is to me and He's got something worked out already. I must rest in that and know that He cares for my family more than I can. Thanks for listening to me work out what are my first thoughts of all of this...they probably aren't too pretty.

Post-cerclage, Part 1

I'm sitting in the hospital bed with the constant banging of construction outside of my window. But, I am comfy (although quite hungry) and have a TV and wi-fi so it doesn't get much better than this if you have to be in the clinic. The procedure was a bit rough, a bit scary, but went fine as far as I'm aware. My doctor only commented to me that my cervix is quite short and I'm really going to need to take it easy. When I find out what that means, exactly, it will probably be reported in part 2 of this post. For now, I am scanning back through a biography I just read the other day when I was stuck in the blockades on Horatio Spafford who wrote the hymn, It is Well With My Soul. This hymn has impacted me more in the last year than ever before, as I resonate with this man's choice to believe God is good and loving in the face of severe suffering. My loss is nothing compared with the 5 children he lost and other persecutions he faced (from the Christian community, no less!). But, we have shared the same sadness, the same questions, the same process of coming to trust again in the Lord's complete control and loving kindness in our lives. I have sang the words of that song to myself many times, desiring to bring my soul again to a place of rest and faith when things are scary and out of my control. Like right now... The surgery is over but the fear that I will bleed and lose the baby or have to be on bed rest for 6 months and not be able to get out and enjoy the glories of the US that I love so much (nice parks, libraries, church!) threaten to get a hold of my mind and bring me to a dark place. So, as I have done almost every day of this pregnancy so far, I fight to control my thoughts and think on whatever is true and lovely and noble, realizing overall is the perfect plan of God that can not be thwarted. I am grateful for friends here that are willing to do anything for me, for neighbors who worry excessively (a bit too much at times) about me and offer to do anything they can, including coming to our apartment at 6:30 this morning to stay with Natty while we came to the hospital. Once again, I see God's hand in surrounding us with this amazing community that we too often fail to appreciate enough until we become dependent on them. So, thanks again for praying, and I'll keep you updated!

Another big adventure

So, I leave Natty once again with Feli this morning for a "quick" trip to the city to drop off some stuff with the doctor. I find it strange that there isn't a whole lot of public transportation going into the city and decide to take one of the slower options cause I just need to get there. As we approach one of the major highways that all the buses take to get up into the city, there is a large march happening. I chuckle/groan inwardly at how easy it is for whomever to take over a major highway to protest whatever the flavor of the month is. We take some side roads and make it relatively quickly into the city. Then, I wait for eons for my doctor, learn some unsettling news (like I'll be at least one night, if not two in the clinic after my cerclage), and then head back out to grab public transport down. It's past lunch at this point, so I call Feli to tell her I'm on my way. As we approach the same section of town where there were marches, things get hairy. Now, all traffic is turning off the main road and creeping even higher up the side of the mountain to find back roads. Traffic quickly congests and the combo of a police truck 2 vehicles ahead, filled with armed, shielded police men and my bus driver turning off his engine make me think we're not getting anywhere soon, and I'm not sure I want to get where I'm going anyway if these heavily clad cops have anything to do with it. The minibus becomes silent except for the occasional grumbles of the driver saying that traffic isn't moving and it's not going up or down the intersecting street we are trying to reach. I hop off with some other passengers, hoping that nearby there'll be a break in the traffic where I can grab a cab. As I head down to the main avenue, I notice that all cars, everywhere, have stopped. People have turned off their motors and passengers from most public transport vehicles are spilling out onto the streets and wandering about like ants who have just had water thrown on their hill. I head in the direction of my car, about a mile or so down the road. As I walk, I realize that walking a mile, under normal circumstances, would have been quite pleasant, but is not a major "no-no" according to my doctor. I'm paranoid to walk to the little store around the corner from my house so this trek seems like too much. I call Scotty, who is far off in the jungle, to inform him of the chaos. Without even realizing it, God had worked things out ahead of time (as He does so well) to have me pop out right about at the street where one of our missionary families live. Scotty tells me not to walk to the car, but to walk to their house. So, I head up, noticing a large crowd of angry looking Bolivians holding signs and yelling obscenities...small children in tow. I stand a half block away, wondering if I should ask the phone repairmen next to me if they think it's wise to cross through. I decide to pray and walk quickly, not making eye contact. They ignore me as I hike uphill and turn a corner onto our friends' street. I'm praying they're home, realizing that after I hung up with Scotty, my phone was out of credit and there was no way to call anyone else. I ring the doorbell and the happy face of Kep pops out and invites me in with a smile, offers me lunch and refuge for as long as necessary. Hooray! So, I spend the next 3 hours or so with them, eating, reading, chatting and really wanting to be home with Natty. Periodically, we look outside their front door to see cars lining the streets at a dead standstill. An hour later, some of those guys have parked on the sidewalk and left their cars. Debbie takes a few of them who have been trying to get home to lunch for 2 hours some chocolate cake. She walks to the corner and finds the protesters have taken to sitting in the middle of the street and there is not a single back street that has not been blocked. This is pretty rare for this area of town and we're surprised by how no one seemed to know this was going to happen (usually blockades are actually advertised ahead of time, which I find amusing) and how well it was organized. Finally, Kep decides they need to start walking to the place they're supposed to be in an hour and Debbie reminds him that I'm kinda just stuck since I can't walk too far. He takes off to try to find an open spot and a free taxi and calls shortly to tell us he's got one reserved. We head out through the protesters again, the streets are littered with confetti and trash and people are still out in mass, heading every which way. Police have managed to get the protesters out of the main avenue and traffic is trickling through. We hit another mass of either protesters or people looking for rides a block down and then manage to cross through what normally is a busy intersection, but now is grid-locked. Thankfully, the direction we were going was not of interest to anyone- our lane was clear and the one going in the opposite direction was bumper to bumper of motionless vehicles. So, we make it to the taxi without having to walk too far and I'm off safely to my car which is parked in a part of town where there is next to never any issues. Then, I'm home 15 minutes later and so happy!! I left Natty at 9:30 in the morning, telling her I wouldn't be long and end up home by 4:30 in the afternoon. I've seen, tried to pass and been turned back by blockades before, but I think this is the first time I've been stuck in the middle of one! Hopefully, it will be the last for a while.

Big victories

I'm scheduled for a cerclage on Wednesday. For those of you who don't know what that is, I'll spare you the details and let you google it for yourself. A few weeks ago when I had my check-up with my OBGYN, she mentioned I would need a blood test and an ultrasound before we do the cerclage. However, she didn't bother to tell me what kind of blood test or give me any information regarding it. There's no call you receive from the dr.'s office to follow up with your upcoming procedure and make sure you have what you need in order. There's just you- making sure you're doing what you're supposed to be doing. So, I called my dr. this week to ask her what blood test I needed, since I wanted to be sure I had plenty of time to have the test done and receive the results before Wednesday morning. She's in a conference and won't be around until Monday, the voice on her cell phone informs me. Hmmm...that only leaves 2 days before the procedure for me to have the blood drawn and tested. Initially, I thought I'd wait and do what I could Monday, but my fore planning nature got the best of me and I decided to call the voice again and see what she could do for me. Now, before I continue on, the point of this blog is that all of this is a bit intimidating to me. All these interactions are done in Spanish and are a bit out of my comfort zone, as sometimes I'm not sure what or who to ask and how much to persist in trying to figure out what is supposed to be going on. On that note, I continue. So the voice explains that she's just the secretary (after I asked her if she was a doctor) and she gave me the number of the doctor who is taking my doctor's emergency calls this week. I call him and just as I'm about to hang up after a dozen rings, he answers, surely still in bed. I ask if he is the dr. I am looking for. He affirms, snorts a bit of phlegm into the voice piece (is that necessary?) and asks what I want. I explain that I am a patient of my doctor, that I'm having a cerclage on Wednesday, that I know I need a blood test, but I don't know which one. Would he happen to know?? (This is sounding even more ridiculous as I type). He's quiet for a moment, says he has no idea, and then guesses that it must be a standard, pre-op set of tests. He rattles them off to me (this is where my Spanish becomes quite lacking) and I ask if he can call my lab and dictate those to them. He tells me to have them call him when I get there. So, in the car, to the lab. Then, I'm sitting in front of the secretary in the lab saying, "I need a blood test. You have to call this doctor and explain to him that I am a patient of Dr. Zelada and am having a cerclage and he will tell you what I need. No, he doesn't know my name, but I just talked to him this morning. He is covering her patients while she's in a conference. No, I'm not sure if these are the tests that I need, I didn't really understand what he told me." Oh, my. She tries to call, but he doesn't answer. She says they'll take enough blood to do all the tests and then confirm with him later. So, while I'm getting stuck, I hear her on the phone confirming and all is worked out. Praise God! And, I find out it will be ready by tomorrow morning. So, I actually could have waited until my doctor was back in the office to tell me for sure what she wanted, but this way I can take up all of what I have for her to see on Monday and have everything set for the big day.

This was a huge accomplishment for me. To overcome my fear of talking to random doctors who don't know me and try to explain my unique situation is a big deal for me. Scotty is out of town and I'm feeling nervous about leading women's Bible study tonight, but I managed to make it happen and now I feel relief. Yay for the big victories.

Today.

It's been a while since I've left Mallasilla. Maybe about a week or so? I get to where I just feel so worn out that I have no desire to go anywhere or do anything away from home. Which means I've been in the house with Natty...A LOT. We've gone downstairs a few times to play in the bucket of water and once took a short walk to the nearby park, but I'm a bit limited physically in this pregnancy, so I haven't ventured to do much that requires a lot of effort. Today I decided I would leave her with our wonderful house help and make a short trip to the grocery store. What a relaxing trip! The weather is warmer now and the store is mostly empty mid-morning. I had a quiet drive there and then wandered leisurely up and down the aisles, mostly convincing myself I didn't need chocolate or ice cream or any other junk in the house. Then I rang up, had the bag boy carry the groceries to the car, and quietly drove home. I love being alone and quiet! My soul yearns for that time away from everything, even if it's just a 10 minute drive in the car. Sometimes I wonder if I don't enjoy being away from people too much. It can clash with ministry opportunities from time to time.

So, I continue to experience a lot of mental battles with regards to the pregnancy. I realized the other day that I was focusing so much on the "what ifs?" of the future that I wasn't noticing that God was giving me each day so far without complication. So, I made a mental note to begin each day asking the Lord to protect my unborn child and ending each day with thanks for doing just that. And, trying very hard not to think about anything any further than today. That has been very helpful and taken away a fair amount of concern. And, I must thank God for continually giving me renewed faith in His love and concern for us. My greatest desire, as with Zion, is that He will be seen as glorious through the journey with this new life.

Hotel Europa

Scotty and I decided to spend a night in a nice hotel downtown to celebrate our anniversary. We've never left Natty overnight with anyone before, so this was a big deal for all of us. Thankfully, we have some good missionary friends that live in Mallasilla and have a little 3-year old daughter who were happy to add to an already full house. We happily left her there to play and drove up in time to check-in and have a yummy buffet-style lunch. Our main reason for choosing this hotel was that they have a nice pool/spa/sauna area that is warm and comfy and relaxing. Since we live in La Paz, we had no desire to be outside the hotel much to see anything cause we've seen it all a million times before. After lunch we headed up to our room to digest. We found that the hotel was more than willing to give us the honeymoon special, which included a beautiful bouquet of flowers, his and hers robes, roses in the bathroom, rose petals and salts for the bath, chocolate covered strawberries and an entire bottle of champagne (which we didn't open since I'm pregnant and Scotty's not a big fan) and breakfast in bed (which we skipped so we could engorge at the buffet instead). All of this costs less than a normal night for two in the hotel! Doesn't make much sense, but a no-brainer for us. After sprawling on the bed for a bit, we felt like we were capable of moving again so we grabbed our suits and books and went downstairs to hit the indoor pool. When we came out of the elevator, we saw it was dark in the pool area. Upon checking, we were informed the pool is closed on Tuesdays- ALL DAY. Scotty and I exchanged angry/disappointed/unbelieving stares and sulked back to our room. I actually cried. The whole point of getting away and leaving Natty was to just relax and enjoy the amenities of the hotel. The idea of sitting in a hotel room, listening to the continual screams from the huge school below us, until dinner time, was not what we were going for. It was interesting to watch each other respond, both of us feeling like we are so frequently disappointed in a similar manner by things in Bolivia, and think about the counseling seminar we were just a part of. We learned that when the heat of life is pressing on you, you either have thorn tree responses (which I was struggling with) or fruit tree responses, which is due only to the work of the Holy Spirit in your life. We wanted to have fruit tree responses and I think we eventually got there- but we had to wrestle with a fair amount of irritation first. So, once we decided to stay and make the most of it (we were about to call the whole thing off), we had a great time. We read, we walked to a nearby coffee shop, I took a bath- the afternoon passed quite nicely. Then we went upstairs to a snazzy restaurant with live piano player and had a delicious dinner- best I've had in a long time. One of the things I was looking forward to the most was not being woken up at 6:30 by "mommymommymommymommy!" Of course, I expected to still wake up pretty early, as my body is now trained, but it sure was nice to just be able to lay there for a while before actually getting up. After another eating frenzy at breakfast we were happy to lay around for the rest of the morning and finish up the books we had brought. Then we actually were able to make it for an hour to the pool, order a quick lunch, and jet. What a nice time we had talking about important things, talking about not important things, playing Boggle, reading, resting, eating. I loved having Scotty to myself for a day and just doing whatever we wanted to do. After a busy last month, it was a much-needed time away.

Six years.

Today Scotty and I celebrate 6 years of marriage. Usually on this day, I look back over the last year to contemplate all that has happened and all that we have been through. I could have never guessed the roller coaster year that God had in store for us. Friends recently asked if we felt we had grown in our marriage through losing Zion and everything that followed. I think that time will show the ways that God has brought us to a deeper place in our relationship than we could have gotten to otherwise. One thing I can say is that my extreme sadness, tears, fears, doubts, anger, questions, and apathy brought out amazing qualities in Scotty that I had only a glimpse of before. Throughout the hard times, and they were terribly hard, Scotty was solid. He was patient with me. He let me cry for hours- sometimes leaving me alone, sometimes letting me soak his shirts. He didn't have any trite answers. He told me it would be OK when I didn't think it ever would again. He almost never pushed me to get "better" before I was ready. He talked about Zion. He held the house together when I didn't have the strength. He took care of Natty when I just wanted to sleep. He treated me with long-suffering that only a depth of love can when the darkness had settled and was not planning on lifting for any time soon. I am so grateful for this godly man that the Lord allowed me to walk through this short journey of life with. He challenges me to be a wife that reflects Christ and every day I pray that I might be more gracious, more forgiving, more submissive, more respectful- that my actions may further build the bond of "oneness" that is unique to marriage. After I woke up this morning, I thought how incredible it is that God led Scotty to his future wife only a month after embarking on this Bolivian adventure, and me to my future husband in only 6. He has been so good, so faithful to us and I trust He will continue to be all the days of our lives. I thank Him for allowing me 6 amazing, beautiful years with a man better than I could have imagined. I love you Scotty Miser!!

Life continues

I'm already unbuttoning my pants when I sit down. Is this normal at 9 weeks?? They say you get rounder faster with each pregnancy and I suppose I never regained the normal flat belly after Zion, but, really? The lady that cut my hair today asked me if this was my first child, before I mentioned that I was pregnant! How did she know??

Scotty and I said "see you later" to Coty and Beth Pinckney yesterday. We were very blessed by their visit and even though I was struggling with a fair amount of nauseousness and lots of sleepiness, I enjoyed every conversation and hug and meal and play time with Natty and time spent learning new sewing techniques. It was a great reminder of how intimately God can weave the body of Christ together, even when thousands of miles separate us. It was good to share the challenges of ministry and the great joys as well and be encouraged that what God has called us here to do is worth it and that it is good to be a part of God's kingdom coming on earth. Since we hadn't had a date for a couple of weeks, Scotty and I took advantage of our house help being here to watch Natty and went on a lunch date today. We decided to go downtown and check out a nice hotel where we've decided to celebrate our upcoming anniversary and eat at a beautiful cafe next door. The food was scrumptious and we were within walking distance of our favorite donut shop for a special treat afterward. I appreciate Scotty and the way he is willing to talk to me about everything and anything and the way he desires to be a better husband.

There is still much peace in my heart about the pregnancy. I give God all the glory for that- He knows that my tendency is fear and that many people would not blame me for it. But, He has graciously allowed me and is helping me to trust Him daily, even in those moments when something seems "off" in my body and I wonder if it is a forewarning of something bad. I still have moments when I'd really like to be out of Bolivia and dealing with the whole pregnancy in the states but have also come to strongly believe that whatever happens here is completely in God's hands and He has the power to control even how my doctor chooses to treat me. I pray often for wisdom as there looms ahead another surgical procedure to close up my womb, but still feel OK that the same doctor does that procedure. I can't say that I've thought or dreamed as much about this child as I have the others, but I hope as time goes on, the freedom and confidence to imagine this baby as part of our family will return. So, I fight to walk by faith and not by sight and to know that God is enough.

The news.

Well, now that the Facebook world has received the news that I'm expecting again, I can finally blog about the things that have been on my mind and heart in the last month that I've known. It's been hard to not blog about it! Let me tell you, nothing prepared me for the emotions and the fears that would flood over me upon realizing that I was indeed pregnant. We didn't really expect it to happen so fast and when it did, my first reaction was sadness. This seems contrary to what most people feel when they find out they're having a baby, but this was the overwhelming emotion. Mainly, it was just another reminder that Zion was gone and that I would never be carrying him in my womb. That's what I really wanted- was to somehow be able to put him back inside and keep going. I didn't want another person in there. A day or so after that, the fear set in. And it was strong. I was convinced I would miscarry or that the baby wouldn't make it full term or all manner of terrible things. But, it wasn't like a passing thought that I would deal with and it would go away for a time- it was constant. I had a total lack of joy and really a hard time even thanking God for this pregnancy because I was totally wanting to protect myself from the possible pain that could incur. It was not pretty. I spent a couple weeks just praying constantly for the Lord to give me peace and help me not to worry or wonder if I could go through all of this again. Out of the blue one day, I really felt that God met with me and put my heart at ease. He also convicted me quite a bit about the tendency I had to reserve my praise and thanksgiving to Him until I was more sure that things were going well. Life is a gift from the Lord and a miracle, but I was not receiving it as such. I wanted to hold on to and nurture my fear because I felt that once I started really believing things would be OK, they wouldn't be. God showed me first, my lack of faith, and then how I was really stealing from Him the glory He deserves for this unmerited gift. I should be rejoicing and sharing with the world how good my God is and showing them how worthy He is to be trusted with all things. My greatest hope with Zion's death was that his short life would not be wasted. Through him, I have learned to trust God in a whole new way, more deeply. And, I have learned to believe that He is a kind and loving Father, even when what happens in our lives doesn't feel like that. But, I wasn't living that out in this pregnancy and so forgetting one of the great things that Zion's life taught me. I know there will be a long road ahead and I am not always comfortable with Bolivia's medical system but I know that my God is with me and that He will work for my good.

So, that's the short of it. On the practical side, I find myself confined a lot to the house again- fighting the all-day yuck feeling and extreme tiredness. I half expected to see twins during our recent ultrasound because I was feeling so tired all the time, more so than I remember with the other pregnancies. What we saw instead was a tiny little baby- about a week younger (barely 7) than we thought- but with a clear heartbeat. That was a happy moment. Natty is excited about the idea of a brother or sister- mostly, a sister these days. Scotty and I are excited about the idea of going home in November to carry out the last half of the pregnancy there where I can be monitored more carefully and deliver in a place with higher medical standards. It will be wonderful to spend the holidays with family and to finally be able to shop in the US for baby stuff. :) So, I welcome your prayers for whatever God has for us ahead and look forward to rejoicing together when our new one is finally in our arms, even while we continue to hold tightly to Zion in our hearts.

SIM conference

Last week we attended our yearly SIM conference where all the missionaries in Bolivia gather together for a time of sharing, learning from the Word, games, times of prayer and lots of eating. We went to a new venue this year- a retreat center that used to be a boarding school and is a 5-9 hour bus ride between 2 major cities (neither of which is La Paz). Since we needed to go either to Cochabamba or Santa Cruz to catch a bus to camp, we chose Santa Cruz since neither of us have spent much time there and there were several families we hoped to spend some time with. So, we left 4 days early and managed to enjoy our time with those families, despite rain and very cold temps. I guess it actually helped us to be stuck indoors because if it were warm and sunny, like it is most of the year in Santa Cruz, we would have been out swimming and playing in water parks instead of hanging out with people. Then we boarded the bus and took off for Monte Blanco and a wonderful time of fellowship with our SIM family. I have always appreciated the diversity of our crew- in cultural, in personality, in backgrounds, in time on the field, etc. I have always felt loved but sensed that in a new way this year after our experience with Zion. We were able to see many that we had not seen since he was born and hear how often they had prayed for us and thought of us. I was moved to tears several times by people I know very little who have faithfully prayed and was reminded again of God's love for me shown through His servants.

One of my favorite evenings was when a group of us hiked up to a landing strip nearby to star gaze. I'm not sure I've ever seen so many starts, so clearly. The Milky Way, the southern cross, the big dipper. And this strange mix of feelings. At one moment I would feel, as cliche as it sounds, so small in comparison to this universe of stars and planets and creation that is so much greater than this world that fills my mind from day to day. And when I looked out at those stars, it was as if Zion was on the other side- billions of light years away from me. I never felt farther from him. Than, a nanosecond later, I would feel as if I was so close to the heavens that at any moment he might see me and wave. Before we hiked back down to camp, we sang the doxology and my heart was brought to praise again, despite how I might feel.

On a lighter note, a good third of our SIM Bolivia staff have gotten hooked on a board game called Settlers of Catan and so we decided to hold the first annual Settlers tournament. We didn't have enough time to really get too many games going that counted, but we had a lot of practice rounds and really enjoyed that. Natty had a blast in her "class" every morning and most afternoons and really seemed to come out of her shell around the other kids and the adults too. She's at a really fun age right now and a lot of people commented on how good, calm, and flexible she is. And it's true, mostly. I am so thankful for that.

Women's Bible study

I have to admit- there have been times in my life here in Bolivia where I just wonder why God has me here. I sometimes feel that I don't measure up as a missionary (I'm not always using the right standard) and have periods where I don't see any fruit from relationships I have with Bolivian women. That said, our Women's Bible study has been such a source of encouragement in this last year. We are currently going through a Beth Moore study called Jesus the One and Only, which has been insightful and challenging. Pretty much all the application questions she asks bring up issues revolving around Zion's death and the ensuing pain, but they are so good. One particular day in last weeks study talked about the healing of the woman who had been bleeding for 12 years and raising Jairus's daughter from the dead. Beth made the point of how limitless Christ's power is and had us write out all of the things that are facing us right now where we need to see God's hand at work in a mighty way. I had a fairly good number of them. Then, we were to read each one out and repeat to ourselves, "the power of Christ is sufficient". What a helpful and practical habit! I've found myself the rest of this week, as I've begun to worry about one thing or another, repeating, "the power of Christ is sufficient" and that brings so much peace! We got together in small groups at the end of the study and answered a few personal questions and then prayed for each other. One of the ladies in my group began coming to our church after everything happened with Zion and she wasn't aware of his existence. It felt so strange to tell her about this son that we had last year who died, in a calm voice- as if it had happened long in the past and I was over it. I felt like I wanted to explain to her how very much a part of my current life he is and yet I rejoiced in being able to share how much God has done in my heart. So, I am thankful for women's Bible study, for the friendships I have there and the openness. It often makes me feel that there's a reason for being here.

Still missing Zion...

We got back from another trip to Cochabamba yesterday. I decided to go with Scotty to his quarterly (they've been a bit more frequent recently) mission meetings because I was hoping to see 2 sets of people- one, a great couple that will hopefully be joining our team after they are done with language school and became instant grandparents to Natty when they were here for a visit less than a year ago; and two, a dear old friend and her family who was in Cochabamba for a visit. We set up with several mission families to spend Sunday at the lake outside of town where SIM owns a cabin. The spot is quiet, still and has a great yard for the kids to play in. There were 4 toddlers on site that day, so it wasn't as still and quiet as it could have been, but Natty didn't once complain of being tired even though she missed her afternoon nap all together. It was good to spend some time with these families that we enjoy so much but rarely get to see because of living in different cities. It was fun to watch Natty interact with other kids and do things she loves to do. I was thankful to be a part of a mission in which we are all different but all loving and serving Bolivia.

The few days passed quickly enough with good interactions with the very people I went to see. Natty had the time of her life, as usual, in the yard at the guest house. She was barefoot in the warm fall weather from morning to night and her feet were black with dirt all day. Up to this point, she has never been interested in swings at the playground, but she decided finally that she loves them and spent hours swinging on the tire swing in the backyard. I just enjoyed being outside in the warm days and mild nights. Nothing too exciting to report. Before we knew it, it was time to board the plane back to La Paz. Natty told me she was sad we were leaving...:( I found myself sitting in the airport, sad as well. But, not because we were leaving Cochabamba. For some reason, out of the blue, I felt so intensely the absence of my son. The memories of the few, precious days with him came flooding back. The momentary feeling of holding him- the desire to do it again. The longing to have him as a part of our lives. It was all so strong, so real. Sometimes those feelings seem to be in the background- always there- but less intense. Yesterday, they moved up to the foreground again. I'm thinking about him a lot today. I'm wondering if this will be how it is for the rest of my days. It's nice that those thoughts are just sad- they aren't angry or questioning or doubting or bitter-usually... God has given me a strong peace, a lack of answers in some regards, but peace and trust. I am thankful to Him for that because I know it is only from Him that it comes. I've seen the depths of my natural man and it is only God that can bring light there. He is good.

Mother's Day

The last few days have been full of some tough memories. Not really because of mother's day, since we celebrate a different day in Bolivia, so I wasn't really even aware until I started noticing posts on facebook. Instead, I have a very dear friend in town that I haven't seen for 2 years and we took her and her family over to our land where Zion is buried to show them his grave. She had brought a rock from her home to place on the special spot and then we spent some time talking about the events of his death and the days following. It was as if we were reliving those days together, crying together, grieving together- something we couldn't do when it was all happening but somehow came naturally at that moment. It was a special time to share together, but left me feeling heavy that evening and so much more aware than I have been for a long time how much I miss my little boy and how hard it is to deal with disappointed dreams. I woke up today, 6 months exactly after Zion died, still feeling the weight of sadness that can consume everything else in life. Thankfully, the depth of those hard emotions don't last as long as they used to, and I began feeling better after spending some time playing with Natty and hanging out with Scotty. I was nervous about the plans we had later this morning to go back to the clinic where I was on bed rest to pick up my medical history. I knew seeing that place for the first time since I left- a place where I had prayed and hoped for the life of my child, where I felt sure that I could keep him inside for long enough, and where I also experienced a tremendous amount of fear- would be hard. So, with Natty and Scotty along for moral support, we entered into the quiet clinic and searched around for someone to help us. The place is small and not busy because of the nature of the business (plastic surgery), so Scotty had to wander down a hall to find a nurse. Just the nurse, it happens, that took such good care of me and encouraged me that all would turn out all right in the end. I even told her I'd come back one day with my little boy and show him off to her. But, it turns out that I returned empty handed and had to see that look again that so many people have shown me when I answer their question of, "how is the baby??" with a shake of my head and an explanation that he didn't survive. Then I saw the doctor that took care of me, and even the girl who brought me food. They were all there and it felt like I had been wheeled out only yesterday. Scotty and Natty went out into the yard to play while I waited inside for them to find my records. I contemplated all that has happened since then and was thankful for the peace that has replaced most of the anger, the fear, the hurt and the confusion. Those feelings still come from time to time, but the deep faith that God has given me through the journey outweighed what I knew to be the natural reactions of a sad mommy. I know God is with us, I know He loves us, I know He loves my son and my family, I know He was in it all. I don't feel the need to ask "why?" anymore, even though I never got a clear answer. At least I can see more clearly now the gift God has given me in the pain- an ability to trust Him more, a recognition of how desperately I need to cling to Him alone, an understanding that my life is in His hands and out of my control.

IBM Camp 2011

I'm sitting in bed listening to the ongoing festivities to celebrate both Bolivia's labor day and Mallasilla's anniversary. Across the town from us, in front of the Catholic church, is the yearly 3-day drunk fest, complete only with extremely loud music, dancing and partying into the wee morning hours. Thankfully, we missed the majority of it since our IBM camp fell on these dates this year, but it looks as though we'll have to hear a few more hours of drunk ballads before it's all said and done. We got a late start leaving camp and the fog set in just a bit into the uphill return to La Paz. This particular road, nestled between high mountains and deep ravines, is prone to getting fogged in and being fairly dangerous. It was about dusk when we hit this, so before long it was densely foggy and dark. As we neared the cumbre, the highest point in the department of La Paz, the sky began to drop freezing rain and the road soon became covered in a layer of ice. The defrost on our 1995 Toyota Caldina doesn't work, so Scotty spent about half an hour wiping the inside of the windshield with a paper towel and driving about 10mph. We were both pretty tense and praying without ceasing. Following somewhere behind us were 2 bus fulls of campers and several other personal vehicles carrying our beloved church family. God led us through safely and we are praying He did the same for them as well.

Camp was a blast. There was very unseasonal rain and/or cloudiness for most of the 3 days in the jungle, but at least it kept the temps down. Bugs were at a minimal as well. We had a variety of people this year, including a group of about 25 shoe shiners who are being reached through a ministry some good friends of ours started called Kayuparu. They brought a lively dynamic and with about 7 of them on our team, we won the games competition. Bolivians can get pretty stuck on the fact that Scotty is almost 2 meters (6'8" ft.) tall, so decided our team should be called the giants. We quickly found out that another team had named themselves the same, so we ended up being the midgets- the jokes were endless... Besides hilarious games, our pastor spoke twice on the book of Joshua and the devoted Christian life, we ate lots, we waited around lots for food to be prepared, we chatted and got to know each other better. Today we had a special time of baptism. It never fails to move me to see the lives that the Lord has changed in drastic ways. The pastor's brother and his wife were baptized, both recently coming to the Lord. The wife became interested in spiritual things first and quickly began soaking up the Word and the change in her life was quick, obvious and dramatic. Her simple and deep faith is amazing to see. She began to pray for her husband and, although it took a bit of time, he came out of the water today with his hands raised in the air in triumph and joy. I think we were all in tears as he hugged his brother, our pastor, in gratitude. 2 shoe shiners were also baptized- young men who have years ahead to experience the power of God's amazing grace in lives that were so very lost. It's such a gift to see the way God has been at work in people in our church and is bringing new people in continually through His moving in their hearts. Every year I'm excited about church camp, but a bit nervous because I fight my own desire for punctuality, comfort and a bug free existence. But every year the Lord reorganizes my priorities and encourages me in the work we are a part of- because He is the one ultimately who is doing it and it is beautiful.

Day trips

The last week has been a busy one, but fun. Wednesday we decided to take the two youngest daughters of our house help to the jungle. They love Natty and Natty loves them and they all love monkeys...perfect! So, we drove down the windy road with several thousand feet drop-offs on one side until we arrived at the Green Path- an animal rescue/lunch/hostel place. We toured around to see the various tucans and parrots, one friendly cotimundi, a ton of turtles, some guinea fowl and a couple friendly monkeys. We all got our chance to hold the monkeys- one big, black one and one tiny squirrel one- the girls were enchanted. After lunch we went down to the river, found a quiet spot, and splashed around in the water for an hour or so. Again, the girls were delighted. The ride back was a pretty quiet one with the girls sacked out in the back and a steady climb back to altitude. Friday, a friend from church who lives in the neighborhood called to invite us to lake Titicaca for the day to eat trout. Since Scotty was preaching on Sunday, we left him home to work while Natty and I joined our friends and another family from church for the drive out. Traffic was heavy since Holy Week is a big travel week here, but we made it to the hotel on the water where we enjoyed a tasty lunch and then time out in the yard out back to play and look at the gorgeous blue lake. It was a perfect day- warm enough to be comfortable but always with a cool breeze. We got a short boat ride and I enjoyed spending time with 2 ladies while Natty played with the other kids. Easter Sunday I was helping out with the toddlers Sunday school while Scotty preached. We invited our pastor and his family over for lunch and they hung around into the evening. We introduced them to Easter egg hunting, which their 4 year old and Natty greatly enjoyed, and spent the rest of the afternoon eating and chatting. It was good to see the 2 kids interacting, even though neither one had much of an idea of what the other was saying. Kids don't seem to mind these things.

Yesterday I saw my doctor. It was the first time since shortly after Zion died that I had seen her and it took a fair amount of mental exercise to not let myself slip into a dark place as everything in her office and she herself remind me of my little boy and his quick life. As I waited in one of the private rooms, I kept reminding myself of how God redeems all things and that I shouldn't expect things to go as poorly next time. However, after chatting about the strict restrictions that she wants me to be guided by and the continual reminder of medical care that just isn't up to American standards, I left a bit concerned and pensive. It's hard not to fear what next time will be like and to realize that living on the 3rd floor will probably keep me mostly housebound. Can I even get pregnant again? How long will it take? So many questions and doubts and fears. Again, I took a moment to remember that God is big and that He is capable of working in a mighty way in our lives and in my body. Fear and doubt is never helpful. Scotty and I long for more children. Natty is anxious for a sibling. And yet, we must wait. What does God have for us in the waiting? I want to learn to be content in Him, not in my circumstances, since I've finally come to understand that they can't always be as I would like them. It's a good and a hard lesson.

Five months

Sometimes I wonder if I don't have some kind of internal clock that can sense when another month has gone by since Zion died. It seems like I'll start having a clump of tough days where I just feel down and I'm thinking more of Zion and than I'll realize that another month has passed since his birth or his death. This week has been particularly difficult and culminated this morning with a good, long cry. I started missing him a lot in the last few days and began to think about him as we took a walk together with Scotty and Natty. One of the tougher aspects of all of this has been the very different ways Scotty and I have individually dealt with it and when moments arise that those differences become more pronounced, the sadness becomes stronger as well. It's hard to walk through the valley of grief with your spouse on a separate path. Anyway, there's this funny thing that happens sometimes when the bad dream feeling goes away and is replaced by that fresh, like-it-happened-yesterday feeling where I am back in the NICU with Zion, praying for him, watching the doctors work on him, riding up the elevator to see him and wondering how he'll look, and then holding him for the first time while he died. I can't make myself feel those things, even when I try, and other times I can't help but be there all over again. It nearly takes my breath away. Anyway, as rough as it is to go through that, even as I cry, I realize it's still a step forward. All that I've heard and read about grief reminds us that things can go from OK to awful in no time at all. So, I like to believe that the intense feelings of sadness are only moving me forward as I continue to work it all out. One thing feels different than it did at the beginning- the ability to believe it will be alright in the end. And, as it always has, the idea of Zion living it up in heaven, avoiding all the suffering we are going through right now, is a happy thought.

We visited a lawyer yesterday who works with adoptions. She didn't have a lot of new things to tell us but helped to confirm what we knew already about the adoption process. One, that it is very long and you're basically at the mercy of the judge to pick out what baby she feels is right for you. You don't see any babies beforehand and you only have the choice of sex and a ball-park age range. Although this lawyer said the children are screened for physical and mental handicaps and that you shouldn't be offered one that has either (what do they do with those kids??), I have heard of foreign adoptive parents finding otherwise. So, we're praying about when to start the process- whether it's something we want to try to start soon or wait a bit on. We're excited about the idea but I have to say I wish there were some things that were a bit clearer to make me feel more in control. I'm a little nervous about getting a child who has been in an orphanage that has a no-touch policy, realizing that a lack of touch can have great negative affects on a child as early as within the first few weeks of life. But, all these things we'll have to trust the Lord on since we don't have much of a choice. It's interesting how he sometimes makes it very clear that we don't have a say, other than the way we choose to respond to a situation. Maybe it's better that way...

Love and Death

I have been struggling the last few days with understanding- understanding God, His love, His goodness and why Zion had to die. The last few days haven't been those "help me to understand, God" type days, but the kind that are a little more conflicted and blaming. The kind where I don't really want to understand what the truth might be because it's easier just to be mad. I don't like being in this place. I'm part of a forum of woman online who have all lost children and most of them have miscarried or lost infants at least 5 times. They have had to live this nightmare more than once. And we all struggle with the same questions. As I was confronted with such loss, I asked God again, "how do love and death go together??" God immediately quieted my heart as I realized the utter obviousness of the answer to this question. God used the death of His son to display the greatest love for His children. Christ came to a fallen world. His death seemed premature to those around him and it was even accomplished by the hand's of sinful men. I'm sure all who knew and loved Jesus wondered to themselves and each other in those days before He came back to life how God could possibly let that happen. Obviously, Zion's death was not to bring salvation to the world, but I have to believe that just as God displayed His love for us in Christ's death, He has purposed to do that in Zion's as well. God is love and He is incapable of doing something that is not loving. I don't understand the "why" and I might continue to wonder all the days of my life for what reason my son died but my prayer is that God will reveal His love through it and redeem the pain.

Really?

Please check out this incredible house in the countryside that we passed near the ecology fair. Hot pink. Addidas emblems larger than life on both sides. A strange, different-colored section on the top. Really...what were they thinking?

Ecology fair

I want to keep people informed of how Scotty and I are doing in this whole grieving process. I find myself, who rarely stops typing to think very hard about what I want to say, feeling a bit void of words or the ability to express where we are right now in this journey. I can confidently say each week is a tiny bit better, but the general malaise that seems to come as you work through losing someone, has stuck. I have felt God's presence in special ways and I have felt the roots of my faith grow a little bit deeper, but I am far from where I hope to be when it is all said and done. I still have some pretty big questions about God and how He chooses to work in our lives and how the acceptance of His control, even in the death of my son, affects my future and the future of our family. I am fighting to believe He is good and that He wants good for us. I am fighting a fatalist few of the future (i.e. why bother praying if God is going to do what He wants anyway?). I can easily spot my faulty theology and the beliefs that are based on fear, but I can't seem to overcome them yet. My hope is that with time, God will make all things right, even the thoughts in my head. There is hope. I believe with all my heart that my life and my family will be forever changed for the better through losing Zion. I believe we will appreciate and glory in our children in a way we never would have before. And, I believe God has made clear to us through this that He's chosen to bring at least one child into our family through adoption. Those are good things that I have hope will happen. So, I lumber on- some days a bit blue and apathetic, other days able to see more clearly the love of God showered on me in so many different ways.

Scotty and I have found a new route up to El Alto, where our airport is located. We gave it a test run the other day and enjoyed the trip up and back through a green, hilly, country community called Achocalla that is resting on the side of the mountain that brings us up almost 2,000ft. from where we live to El Alto. On our way down, we noticed there was an "ecological fair" being held today and so we went with Natty to check it out this morning. We got primo parking at the top of the dirt road that led down to the main plaza where the fair was to be held. We ambled down past grazing sheep and enjoyed a spin around the booths selling fresh produce (picked up some radishes and chard), baked goods, quinoa products (got a nice cake and some dulce de leche with quinoa), cheeses, fresh yogurt, and plants. I think our biggest score was some tasty, low-fat, stevia leaf sweetened, strawberry quinoa yogurt. To our great dismay, we've been informed by those who should know that the stevia sold in Bolivia and "made in Bolivia" is, in fact, not stevia. There are no processing plants here and although the plant is grown in abundance, there is no way to turn it into the little, white, sweet powder that charmed and amazed us. So, we've tossed all our Bolivian "stevia", which has been proven to be nothing more than chemicals (there are no truth in advertising laws in Bolivia). Boo. Anyway, we were happy to learn this yogurt was made with the leaf, and not any sort of refined stevia sugar. We made short work of the small fair and got our fill of free samples and then trudged back up the road to the car. When we got to the small grassy spot where we had parked, we noticed a neat row of cars parked behind us. With about 2 feet in between each car. The nice policeman who had given us permission to park there, when asked why he let a row of cars block us in and what we were to do about it, gave a shrug and said, "Oh...I guess you'll have to wait cause those guys have all gone down to the fair." Realizing that "those guys" could be at the fair for a few minutes or long enough to eat lunch, Scotty set off to ask 200 people who owns the black station wagon blocking us in and if they could come move it. I sat sulking on the side of the road, glaring at the policemen who had no concern for the fact that a whole row of cars were trapped and prayed that Scotty would find the culprits. He came back shortly and admitted that there was no way he would be able to find the owners of the car. However, when he was gone, a couple returning from the fair were loading their goods in the back of the car next to us and we realized they had enough room on the other side to possibly wiggle their way out and give us the room to wiggle out too. We found out they weren't the owners (and didn't know how to drive), but after a bit of begging, they allowed Scotty to take the key and maneuver his way out- a slick, 25-point turn- and then we were free! So, a successful end to a fun trip- but one of those annoying things about living here that I don't think I'll ever get over.

Family day

We've had a long few weeks. Errands and guests over for meals and helping out friends and play dates and friend dates and meetings and Bible studies and stuff. I've been busier the last 2 weeks then I have been in a long, long time. It's nice, on the one hand, but it doesn't take too long before I find myself anxious and tired and sad and needing some serious downtime. Today begins a 4-day national holiday and we committed as a family to just spend the day together. We woke up and spent an hour or so playing in bed with Natty, drinking coffee, reading books, being silly. That's my favorite family activity. After breakfast we went off for a good walk and a play on the land. Going to the land (the property we own a block from our house) is Scotty's favorite thing to do and he tries to go over and move dirt or chop logs or stir up compost at least once or twice a week. Sometimes Natty goes and plays in the dirt and comes home much dirtier than she would if Mommy were watching her. Today we all decided to go and I spent some time by Zion's grave thinking about him and missing him a lot. Natty brought a rock over to put on his grave and said she wanted to touch him. I do too. Then we spent a half hour or so digging holes with hand shovels and filling them with dirty water than shoveling out mud and making neat patterns in the dirt. I suppose that's what people do who don't have Wii... Natty loved it and it was nice to all be outside together dreaming in our individual ways of what it might be like to have a house there one day. I can't think about the house and not think about Zion being buried next to it instead of playing inside or running around outside with his siblings. But, it was nice to be with Natty next to where he is buried and feel like he was kinda there with us. I went home and cooked up a nice spaghetti and now it's nap time. Scotty is sitting next me on the couch- he's reading me excerpts from a text book on radiant floor heating and I'm reading snippets to him from a blog on adoption. We're getting more serious about adopting down the road and are starting to look into what our options might be. We're very curious about adopting a Bolivian child and know it might mean more headache or heartache or both, from what we've heard, but are hoping we can talk to a lawyer before too long and see what all it entails. I'm not sure what the rest of the day holds, but it's nice to sit and relax with my family and just be. Zion is still continually on my mind and I miss his presence especially on days like this when it's just us.