Well here I am. I’m back. After a year of not writing anything on this blog, with the exception of the more informational Advent entries, I am returning with a humble attempt at putting language to my heart and a logical flow to my thoughts of late. As the last entry before Advent made clear and most of you know, I spent most of 2011 pregnant… and those of you who have had the pleasure of experiencing pregnancy, or being married to someone who is experiencing pregnancy, know that there is a phenomenon in pregnancy called “pregnancy brain” whereas one loses about 25% of their normal brain function. In my case, this led to what could only be described severe writer’s block and a remarkable inability to put written words to all that I was feeling or thinking. I feel like there is still a semblance of this “condition” present as I am in the first few months of my sweet baby Ephraim’s life as well, but I decided today to attempt my first entry of any substance since his birth (and really since pregnancy as a whole). So all that to say, in a rather long-winded way, please bear with me this time around and forgive my inadequacies in communication as I try to get my “wind” back.
First things first… I must announce the arrival of my sweet, wonderful, miraculous little gift from Heaven: Ephraim Venable (pronounced like the letter “F” followed by “rum” [like the drink]).
Ephraim arrived the first week of October in a rather extraordinary way. Like Noah when he was born, Ephraim (or rather the Lord) decided he would come ahead of the scheduled c-section and it ended up that me and my bestie (Dana Candler) both went into labor and delivered our little ones on the very same day, in the very same hospital, with the same doctor and all the same nurses… just down the hall from each other. It was a little like “Father of the Bride 2″ with a different twist. I was able to be in the delivery room with Dana to witness and be a part of the magnificent arrival of her sweet little Phoebe and then just four hours later, see my own little miracle face to face as well. It was one of the most surprising and surreal and wonderful days of my life. Arriving at 37-38 weeks, Ephraim was 8 pounds and almost 2 ounces and 19 inches. (He takes after his daddy). And he’s just a dream. He’s a little angel baby so far. He eats well, sleeps well, and rarely cries. But more importantly, he’s just amazing and cute and happy and healthy… and we are all completely smitten with him. (I think Noah most of all… he’s so happy to be a big brother. On the evening Ephraim was born and Noah held him for the first time, one of the first things Noah did was spontaneously sing “Jesus Loves You” over him… seriously – best.moment.ever!)
And so the last few months have been quite an adjustment for our little family, now four instead of three. Everyone says that the jump from one to two kids is the hardest (after the jump from none to one of course), and I think that is definitely true… at least in the day to day. Just getting out the door with a disabled mommy, a four year old and an infant, and daddy seems to be quite the challenge. We’re still figuring things like that out (i.e. the new abundant time allowances we must give ourselves). Fortunately, I have an amazing and selfless husband who always puts his family’s needs above everything else, except the Lord thankfully, and a wonderful support system at the House of Prayer. Stephen also had the last quarter of the year off from teaching, which was a huge help. He’s back in the saddle again at IHOPU (and thus I am in a new day as well), but we are somehow making things work for the most part. Ephraim is already sleeping through the night and smiling and laughing, and really he’s just the cutest little guy ever, just like his brother. Truly, I have said this before but it is just so overwhelmingly real to me now more than ever, my cup overflows and I am such a blessed woman.
And yet, as I sit here writing this blog, I must confess that there has also been a wilderness to this season. It’s such a strange season in the Lord for me, because all of the above is so true. My heart is overflowing with joy as I bask in the wonder of a new life and my sweet family. I am happy beyond measure. At the same time, with the gift of a growing family, I am feeling the limitations of my frame physically and struggling with those limitations probably more than I ever have before. Thus, I am also maybe grieving, for lack of a better description, in some ways. As I celebrated my 30-somethingth birthday (and no, I most certainly will not disclose the 2nd number) shortly after Ephraim was born, I was confronted with my mortality and with the reality of the process of degeneration that lies ahead in my bones and joints because of this disease (short of a miracle) and what that really means. I don’t know why in the midst of one of the sweetest times I’ve known for our family, I’m also in a really bitter time of wrestling with this ‘other’ reality of life… but for whatever reason, the two realities have merged and my little soul is trying to walk through it while abiding in the Vine, and longing to do so with a heart that is burning and living on the inside before the Lord. I wish that I could add that I’m in one of those times where I’m also “feeling” the Lord’s nearness or presence in a real and tangible way through all of this; but unfortunately, it’s also one of those drier times in the Lord where you are setting yourself before Him mostly in faith, without that felt-grace in doing so. I know what I feel doesn’t change the reality of His love. And I know that He sees my heart in the coming and going and loves me all the more for believing and loving and trusting when I don’t ‘see’ or ‘feel’ or ‘hear.’ But oh how I am longing for His voice to speak — that just a Word from Him can make the joys even brighter and bring hope to the pain and make the bitter wrestlings of my soul much more bearable. Just a whisper… a whisper and I’m new again. Well, at last, a few weeks ago, it came… that still small Voice that breaks the cedars…
After several days of being in one of the most significant flares of my spine that I’ve had in over a year, I woke up with this verse running through my mind, prodding and provoking me with every word (in a not-so-enjoyable way, to be honest):
“…for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need.” (Philippians 4:11-12 ESV)
To be content. Oh how I have prayed for this reality to be true within my soul. That in every season, in every circumstance, I would be able to say, “I am content. I am at rest. I am rejoicing.” He gives, He takes away… blessed be His Name. And just when I think that I have gained some ground in contentment in Christ, how that ground is shaken.
And this is where Jesus has me. Pressed on every side, tasting both ecstatic wonder and joy as well as deep sorrow and loss all wrapped into one little season before Him, and He is beckoning me toward contentment. Contentment = [“An internal satisfaction which does not demand changes in external circumstances”—Holman Bible Dictionary]… contentment in Him. That peace that comes when the heart is satisfied in God alone. That reality that Paul spoke of in his letter to Phillipi where all of our confidence and aspiration is found only in the worth of the knowledge of Jesus Christ… all other things lost for the sake of knowing Him. It’s a corner only Jesus can back you into… that great place where soul and spirit are split asunder and He asks but one question of the human heart, “Am I worthy?”
There’s so much more going on, so much more that I would even like to write… and maybe I will in the days and weeks ahead. But for now I will rest my head upon my pillow and the truth is that right now, in this moment, I am content. I am content because despite what happens tomorrow or what happened today or yesterday, I know that God Himself has set me on a journey – a journey which begins and ends in Him, a magnificent journey of discovering His surpassing worth. And oh, the places I will go…










