It Has a Name!

It really bothered the boys that our new baby doesn't have a name. They came up with some really creative ones after hearing that they were "Pip" and "Penny" before they were born. We had suggestions of Baby Carrot, Chickie, Duckie, Nickle, etc... But we all felt satisfied and a bit clever with "Chiclet".

Happy Hunting Grounds

For me, this is Goodwill, because I have so much fun there, much more than wandering in the mall, getting frustrated by Vanity Fair and its prices. And because it is where sundry unnecessary, outgrown, or unused items go when our house is done with them. Things like excess stuffed animals and trinkets I was given when I was 12.

Last week our local Goodwill ran a promotion where any donation netted you a 20% discount coupon for your entire purchase. I had discreetly washed and bagged up some of afore-mentioned excess stuffed animals. (Shhh, don't tell the boys. They were given four new Webkins at Christmas time and had elaborate menageries everyday and I stumbled over fluffy dogs and pigs and bears and frogs until I was sick of it! I kept the new ones, of course, but Large Pink Pig and Brown Bear and company had to go. )

So on the day that Gabriel didn't have school because of the weather, I took our trusty all wheel drive Caravan and went to town all by myself. I always have the uncanny feeling that I lost the children when this happens, but to be honest, it is kind of refreshing. Not losing the children, but going shopping by myself, I mean.

I was inspired by a friend who told me tales of how their family would pray for the things they needed before going yard saling. Now some folks might snort and say, "Well, if you hit it lucky you do, and if not, you go on to the next yard sale." But I had a moment of communication with a very loving and providential Father before I entered the store, and I mentioned specifically the things we were needing. The sign said there was a sale on purple tags, and any Goodwill fan knows that the tags on sale are usually picked out quickly. To my surprise, it seemed there were more purple tags than any other color, and they kept being on the very clothes I was looking for! Woo-hoo! Now I was really having fun, and I browsed through that store for a looonng time without anybody needing to go potty or getting hungry or begging for the stuffed purple dinosaur.

My list of specifics included

• dress pants for the boys, without scuffed knees, please.

• blouses for Livvie... I found three. A pink, a green and a yellow. Think spring!
• shirts for Alex, who is growing like a corn stalk after a July shower.
• a coat (large) that can be closed over Chiclet.

And folks, I found everything on my list of needs, mostly purple tags.

Armed with my 20% off coupon from the sacrifice of Large Pink Pig, I saved 70% on most of my purchases that day. I felt exalted and humbled and blessed by the kindness of God in answering my petition. Maybe I should try this at the mall... Carma, I will certainly be excercising my faith more in the "little" things. Thanks for sharing some of your stories with me.

As long as there is God in heaven, I am not afraid of our bad economy. And that is forever. I pray that hard times will drive many to discover HIM.

More Genetics, But Mostly God

We are all aware that genetic makeup can be very cruel, and I am not talking about big ears or noses. All you have to do is take a walk in a children's hospital to realize in your very heart that life is unfair. It all seems so random, a kind of Russian roulette with health and normalcy.

In my studies about genetics, I discovered that the chances of two people who carry bad copies of chromosome 6 getting together and having a child who actually inherits both bad copies can be as remote as 1 in 40,000. (And if you can follow the logic of that sentence, you are good.) So if the child does "happen" to get the bad ones, it will be deficient in a key enzyme that will affect the usefulness of its adrenal gland, which in turn will upset a lot of other body systems. This can result in adrenal crisis, and if not treated carefully, the child will die.

When we discovered that this is why Olivia did not flourish as an infant, I did not really struggle with the randomness of it all. I don't even recall asking God, "Why us?" We had an anointing service for her, which strengthened my faith tremendously. It was so obvious that God's hand was on her. Our doctors could not believe that she had lived six months without medication. Most times within weeks of birth these babies fall apart in the ER unless they are treated for an adrenal insufficiency.

Of course, I feared for her safety and we had to educate ourselves to know how to help her and make wise choices for her medical care. But through it all, I believed strongly that "I am fearfully and wonderfully made...My substance was not hid from thee, when I was made in secret...Thine eyes did see my substance, yet being unperfect; and in thy book all my members were written, which in continuance were fashioned when as yet there was none of them..." Psalm 139. This is not just referring to perfect babies! God did not glance away while Olivia's dna was formed. He was there the whole time, writing it down in His book!!!

And so my faith remained strong for her. But something happened when we got pregnant again and I looked at the cold facts that science spells out. Here's where the struggle with the randomness and unfairness came in. I looked hard at the statistics... 25% chance that any child we have will inherit both of our flawed genes from chromosome 6. How can you beat against odds like that? Without any effort, this became my personal worry project. I thought about it day and night. I prayed about it all the time, like this: "Lord, surely You know that we can't handle more medical problems. I can't do six doses of meds every day. And You know we can't afford more bloodwork and pricey specialists. Please, Lord, let this baby be healthy. PLEASE." I felt like I was beating my head against the wall of the statistics, and they were unsympathetic as ever.

Yes, I prayed all the time and I gnawed over this chance and that chance like the proverbial dog and his bone. I fought against the fear, and my dear husband prayed for rest for me over and over. He kept encouraging me to believe, and I certainly wanted to do that! Finally one night I got so sick of being anxious that I cried out to God for a reason why I couldn't trust. The still small voice of my loving Father answered, "Because you want to hang on. You want to control this. You want assurances that things will all turn out the way you want them to." After the initial shock, I recognized that this was truth, and He gave me grace to repent of my unbelief.

I cannot describe the relief of being able to trust and rest again. It is a miracle from Jesus! You who are my friends know how much this was on my mind, and I thank you for praying for me. I have not recieved assurance of a healthy baby, but I have recieved assurance of a much better thing. No matter what, NO MATTER WHAT the future holds, HE IS ALREADY THERE!

Genetics

For various reasons, I have been studying genetics the last few weeks. It is a fascinating field, and it bends my brain. I will not be posting a scholarly treatise here, as I would need to plagiarize, but merely a list of facts that tickled me. Did you know that...

• whether your nostrils are oval or round...
  
• whether your earlobes are fastened tightly or hang loose... (We have one child with tight and two loose. The loose are more fun.)
  
• whether you have a cowlick, a widow's peak, a receding hairline or none at all...

...these are all genetic features passed on by parents, and are dependent on the dominant gene. Our doctor is fond of saying, "Like a Wrangler's ad, it is all in the genes." You can undergo genetic counseling and they would be able to tell fairly accurately what your children would look like, whether they will be prone heart disease, or if they will be unfortunate enough to inherit the newly discovered Fatso Gene. (I think the latter is dominant.)

Just the same, I think I prefer the old-fashioned way of trying to see Uncle Paul or Great Grandma Yoder in the little face of a new baby. It is just so amazing!

Dilemma of the Second Born

There was a bit of a fracas at our house today when the Big Boy thought the Little Boy should not peel his own apple, because he might cut himself. (With a peeler???)

Peace restored, Little Boy observed plaintively, "If I were a big boy, I would not boss little boys that are 4 years old."

The boys and I went to the local orchard to stock up on apples before they close for the season. We wandered around the bins, breathing in the delightful ciderish aroma of about 10 varieties of apples, finally settling on the old fashioned Stayman Winesap. We like heirloom apples around here, no genetically engineered, artificial fruit for us, thank you. Or maybe it was because they were cheaper... Olivia thought they were for bowling until we convinced her to count instead. And she was absolutely delighted when I set up a stool for her to wash them. Too bad naptime cut into her fun, but it was a good thing for my ambitious plans.


This is some serious multitasking, peeling, peeling, peeling, while teaching Alex's Language lesson for the day. He couldn't wait to get done so he could do some real stuff.

Math included the Very Important Job of measuring the ingredients for sauce and bossing Little Brother when he stirred too vigorously. We cooked the cinnamon/sugar mixture, poured it over apples in the jars, cold packed it, and...


Voila'!!! Dreams of apple pie and apple goody and apple crisp and apple cheesecake coming up. Just kidding about the cheesecake, but really, don't they look a little "cheesy"?




And now for a little rant about blogger. You would not believe how much effort it took to post this one little post. I wanted to put up 6 pics and it coughed after 5. And the font changes every time you look away, almost. And I accidently deleted pictures 3 times when I was merely trying to backspace, and I couldn't figure out how to put them back, and other frustrations too numerous to ennumerate. I am not techie enough even for blogger, it seems, so Nate, don't suggest something even more user surly. Really, is it just me, or are there others out there who would like to share their pain? D.P.

A Quiet Heart

O Lord, our governor, we beseech Thee, of Thy mercy,
That we may have the heavenly vision,
And behold things as they seem unto Thee,
That the turmoil of this world may be seen by us
To be bringing forth the sweet peace of the eternal years,
And that in all the troubles and sorrows or our own hearts
We may behold good, and so with quiet mind
And inward peace, careless of outward storm,
We may do the duty of life which brings to us

A quiet heart, ever trusting in Thee.

We give Thee thanks for all Thy mercy.
We beseech Thy forgiveness of all our sins.
We pray Thy guidance in all things,
Thy presence in the hour of death,
Thy glory in the life to come.
Of Thy mercy hear us,
Through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen.

This is one of my favorite poems out of the book, "A Quiet Heart" by E. Elliot. I don't know a better way to express my prayers for the new year, so I thought I would share it with you all.
Blessings and love to all three of my devoted readers!