Waiting

I love the song, "Waiting On A Woman" that Brad Paisley sings. In fact, I enjoy most of his songs. They have a way of defining truth and reality with a dose of humor. He sometimes swings from one pendulum to the other; sometimes he has a lot of funny, other times he has a very sentimental slant. Anyway...I like his music and I really like "Waiting On A Woman."

Waiting. I have never been so good at waiting. I think in this country and lifestyle we are accustomed to, not a lot of people these days like it, either. It's a part of life that must be faced, in every area of life, however.

In the physical world. No-one jumps on the elliptical and starts a 45 minute work-out. If you have not been to the gym in over a year, the most you will do on that machine is 3 minutes tops. If you are being honest and want to get out of bed tomorrow morning!

In the educational world. Diploma's from any schooling, training certificate's, Continuing Education Units, even PhD's of any kind (including mothering and the School of Hard Knocks) require a wait.

In the spiritual world. It's the same. The qualities one wishes to possess, like maturity, wisdom and strength come from waiting. My teacher in a six month class on learning to live with better "life skills" I attended used to say, "Time is your friend." I hated that saying. Now I know it's the truth.

I ran across a quote from Oswald Chambers. "He works where He sends us to wait." I love that. So simple, yet so profound. As I pondered the quote I immediately thought of my 5 blessings from God, my children. The thought I had was the 4 years of infertility and practically a lifetime of wanting to be a "Mommy." He is definitely working where He made me wait for those awesome gifts! (I might add 2 of those gifts are ages 13 and 14! Help!) Parenting is one of the most challenging things I have ever waited so long for! Case in point.

The Lord immediately brought to my mind another example of waiting. Waiting in a doctor's office. A very practical yet common practice we have probably all had, and most likely dread. Why? Because we have little to no control, we need to be there and if we blow this chance at waiting we will have another chance to do it all over again. Amazing, the spiritual undertone here.

My waiting room experience...just one of thousands, that I would like to discuss was just about a month ago. I was taking Sarah Grace for a well check. She was not sick, no-one was, believe it or not. We also had no place to go. We had just eaten, had a potty break and relatively happy.

I wanted to be purposeful in maintaining the peace and joy that morning. We really all needed a good day. Desperately. After parking the car, I discussed the rules of engagement. Inside voices, holding my hand until we reached our destination and the possibility of a Dollar Tree reward if the visit was successful. After I adjusted shoes, headbands and bows, I felt confident we were going to win this battle. So in great confidence we marched forward ready to tackle the Pediatrician's office.

Some of you may think I might be a tad over dramatic in using words like, battle, rules of engagement, and marching. If you are someone thinking this, there are a couple of categories you may fall in. One, you have very passive, pleasing, quiet or medicated children. Two, you have no children. Three, you have an only child. Four, you don't have my children! The only other option is that you have never observed our family in a waiting room, because if you had, you would KNOW that those words are not dramatic in any way shape or form.

We had been there, in the waiting room less than 5 minutes. We were early by 15 minutes, simply unheard of with my personality, circumstances and the type of children the Lord chose to bless me with. Lily and Sarah were sitting down and reading a book. The room seemed quiet and ordered.

1o minutes in, paperwork was filled out, insurance cards copied and not one child had experienced a melt down, freak out or episode. This was to be a banner day! We are going to be called back any minute and this will be one of the most successful trips to see the Pediatrician we have ever had. Dollar Tree, here we come.

The mood in the waiting room was overly pleasant. I was smiling and happy to see my children behaving so well. I was admiring the art on the wall above the "Well Area" and decided to show off my art skills. This peace and joy thing, was making me feel a little creative flair emerging. The cow and giraffe hanging on the wall were just too cute. I love little red barns and simply adore the whole farm animal motif. I found a pencil and piece of paper to sketch on.

The kids looked at Mommy intensely looking at the art work, looking up, studying the animals and transferring it onto my paper. Things were starting to take shape on my "canvas." The kids were huddled over me. Squeals of laughter and happiness were flowing freely. We were living in the moment while waiting... in a germ infected, sick children, give me a can of Lysol, please, doctor's office.

The next time I looked at the clock, it had been 45 minutes. I am not kidding. I walked up to the desk ever so politely and the nurse said, "I am so sorry. You should be next. This is ridiculous." I just smiled and said, "No problem." I thought to myself, "Good, I have time to finish the zebra now!"

We did not get into that coveted room for another 20 minutes. And guess what, it was okay. In fact, it was more than okay. We had patiently waited and enjoyed, relished and made a happy family memory there in that waiting room. In fact, the staff seemed quite impressed with my artistic skills and so were my 2 older girls once we arrived back home.

I enjoy walking into that waiting room now. I hold my head high and know that my artistic skills were not the only thing the staff was impressed with. I handled that situation with grace and poise and gave a good Christian witness. Not something I can always say, even in good situations. I even made memories with Sarah and Lily. I do not even have to identify myself anymore when calling the office. They know my voice and seem to always be more than willing to extend me favor.

Waiting. Is waiting a divine appointment? An opportunity to reveal your character? A chance at making some memories? Perhaps a teachable moment? Yes, we won the battle that day. Onward Christian soldiers march, even if it's in place!

#5 In a Series of 5

I know it has taken me a little while to get this #5 birth story out. We have had a busy couple of weeks. Meghan turned 13 on the 4th of February, Mattie got out of the house to chase a squirrel and we haven't seen her since : (, not to mention, school, work and chores! So, today, I am making it a priority and will give you the birth story for my sweet Lily Bay.

This story will be a complete opposite of the first born...

The way I found out I had a little "bun in the oven" was in the Target family bathroom. I bought a home pregnancy test and just could not wait. I called Walt using the pay phone by the Target cafe to tell him the good news.

I was a little hesitant to tell anyone else, even the kids. I guess, word is, it got around the house through the grapevine and pretty soon, as I was dropping off at school, other moms started asking. Reagan recalls that she heard from Meghan, who heard from Jeb, who was probably eavesdropping. I delayed telling my parents for 4 months. One friend's reaction was complete and utter disbelief and no return phone call for 24 hours.

I will explain my reluctance for all who may not be aware.

We had just moved to Rhode Island. A very cold and northern state that has no stores to monogram your initials on anything, no sweet tea served in restaurants, not a hint of a palm tree around, no sand at the beach, and just very different than the southern climate I was accustomed to.

We had lived in a hotel for the first 6 weeks of arriving in this tiny little state. At the time, I had an 8 year old, 6 year old, 4 year old and a 14 month old! Yes! One morning I went down to the lobby to grab a quick something, I came into the hotel room to find the 2 oldest "bungee jumping" from the headboard of the queen sized bed. They had taken the harness I used for Sarah, to keep her "contained" while out and about, as a type of bungee rope and attached it to the center piece on the Victorian headboard. They were then harnessing themselves and jumping off the bed. No kidding! Of course, 3 guesses as to who the master mind was in this contraption.

Sarah, my sweet 14 month old would climb like a monkey up the bars of her porta-crib and fling herself over the edge to get out! This very scheduled baby was not getting her naps and this was only adding to everyone's stress.

The real estate market was booming. Houses would get put on the market, and be sold in an hour above the asking price! We had no idea what area to live in, where the best schools were, and a very not so kid friendly real estate agent. We even had a house we wanted, put a contract on it and lost it over the weekend due to the not so honest real estate frenzy.

We would drive around all day looking at houses. I would get lost, the kids would be tired of driving and there was always someone hungry! In the 6 weeks we looked for a house, these are some of the strange but funny events:
* Meghan (age 6) got her shoes stuck in tar in one of the driveways of one of the houses we were looking at.
* I fell down a set of stairs while holding Sarah (14 months old), all the while remaining upright and not dropping her!
* We went into a house where the bathroom had white shag carpet with a matching toilet seat cover; a shiny, silver metallic wallpaper; a bedroom with wallpaper that matched the bedspread and a semi-circle bed that totally blended in! We were back in 1970 something!
* The realtor broke my power window switch, just weird!
* Sarah always wanted to nurse at the most inopportune times, like when the seller was answering the door, or we were driving and no place to stop, all while running late to
meet the realtor.
* I know the kids broke something at 50% of the houses…usually nothing beyond repair…just very embarrassing.

I was overwhelmed and not really in the perfect, “let’s have another baby” type situation. I never had any doubts myself, nor did Walt. Of course, I would be the one to suffer the morning sickness, enduring it for 9 months, and take care of this new little life…

but

I could see why family and friends might not see it as a practical thing to do.

I was also very homesick, struggling in my marriage, having difficulty adjusting to the kids being in public school, hating the weather, and just not really having the best circumstances. It was like the climate we were living in. It was grey, cold and very little sunshine.
I could relate a lot more information, but let’s just say that Lily’s pregnancy was not exactly the ideal situation.

Now, back to the blessed event: the birth!

I was in Florida, living in a 2 bedroom apartment and Walt was still in Rhode Island.
(that in itself is a whole other story)
I was working out and working on Saturdays at the YMCA. I was one fit and in shape pregnant woman. All my other babies had come early and I was sure Lily would, too. She was not cooperating with my plan. I begged the doctor to induce at every exam. I just knew delivery was around the corner.

Memorial Day weekend came and me and a friend traded kids. She took Reagan and I took Clark and Preston for the weekend. All I needed to get through was the weekend. Dr. LeMay had checked me on Friday and said it would be any day now. If I had not gone into labor by Tuesday, we would do an induction and I would meet her at the hospital at 6am. So, by Tuesday, a baby would ensue!

Needless to say, I made it through the whole weekend! I just had contractions all weekend, off and on, with a bag ready to go. Waiting and waiting.

Tuesday morning arrived and Jennifer picked me up. My mom had come to stay with the kids and I had gotten ready with a cute outfit, styled hair and make-up. I was tan from weekends at the beach and I was fit as a fiddle. I had my bags packed with all the necessities, I had even remembered the video camera and the 35mm camera.

All my preparation would need a little tweaking. It turns out, being in such good shape was a hindrance with the epidural. They had to try 3 times because my spinal cord was so strong and muscular, go figure?! My camera situation; no video tape for the video camera, and no batteries for the 35 mm! The only reason we had the film in print was thanks to Jennifer’s disposable in her purse. It was a leftover from her son’s beach birthday party the week prior. He was 14 and we had given him a big 8th grade, everyone at the beach, last day of school, right of passage kind of celebration. Jennifer had bought 15 or so disposable cameras and had 1 left in her purse!

Johnny, Jennifer’s 14 year old, and Lily would share in the same birth date. June 1st.

Walt had scheduled a flight for Wednesday, June 2nd, to get into town. My mom was with the children, and my dad was 3 hours away. So, it was just me, Jennifer and Dr. LeMay. She broke my water at 7:30 am. We then had a slight complication where the meconium was in the amniotic fluid and then it became a fast paced delivery. I was now very glad we induced labor and ready to deliver Lily.

Lily was delivered without any more complications before lunch. CMT was on the TV and Jennifer was by my side. Not your typical Hallmark delivery, more like a Lifetime movie. But that’s the story. She is here, and she was healthy, beautiful and baby #5 after 4 years of infertility! Hallmark movie or not, a miracle none the less!

I knew Lily was special. I knew God brought her to me for a reason. There is something about my Lily Bay. She weighed in at 7 pounds, 11 ounces but my love for her can not be measured in pounds or ounces. I am guessing that God’s love for me can not be measured in pounds or ounce, either. For Him to trust me with five precious gifts, named Jeb, Meghan, Reagan, Sarah and Lily, that has to be immeasurable and grandiose love! Unexplained and undeserved love like no other.

A Bucket of Blue Crabs

This is me holding a blue crab in Ruskin, Florida at age 4. His pincher's were 21 inches from tip to tip. That's what my mom wrote on the back of the picture. Not being old enough to really know what a real good tip to tip length would be, I am guessing that's pretty big in crab world. I do know a little something about the world according to a blue crab. It happens in a bucket full of them.

Have you ever seen a bucket of blue crabs? They are all in there clawing at each other to get to the top. One giant, maybe like my 21 inch friend, will make his way to the top and reach the edge of the bucket. He will take his pincher and cling on the top of that bucket for dear life. It is then, when he is about to swing his other pincher over, balancing and holding his body weight, smelling the salty air, sensing freedom is near...that another crab, maybe only 15 inches, uses him as a ladder and 21 "incher" says goodbye to the prospect of freedom and the new crab on the block is now tasting what 21 "incher" had just seconds earlier. This all happens in the blink of an eye, over and over, a vicious cycle with no winners. Just miserable crabs clawing their way to the top, swinging and fighting yet never reaching the prize.

A good friend of mine, her son, Heath gave me that visual while we were visiting one afternoon. It was in the context of how he felt. Heath was trying to have victory over an addiction and was upset with the other "blue crabs" that kept pulling him down. He felt like one of those blue crabs in the bucket and he just couldn't escape to freedom.

I wanted to do this story today, January 31st, I hope I make my post by midnight. Today would have marked Heath's birthday. Heath lost his battle with the addiction a few years ago, but he did find deliverance. He found deliverance when he went home into the arms of Jesus.

I think we must also find deliverance in loss and death. Loss to our "rights." Death to our "flesh" and our "selfish desires" or even our "godly pursuits." I know it seems contradictory to the world view and even to some of the prosperity messages you may hear in the modern church of today. You know, "the name it and claim it" propaganda?!

I picture it something like this:

You are in a backyard. There is a Weeping Willow with a wooden board tied to a set of ropes, used for a swing. There is a rustic looking, wooden fence with a hinged gate that squeaks when you open and close it. The grass is up to your knees in some places and as the warm, summer breeze blows the grass waves as if to say, "Come on in, it's nice in here." There are patches of wild flowers dotted throughout the yard. No real pattern, just spots of pink, purple, red and yellow.

Now imagine you are in the yard, you are swinging. The breeze is warm, the wild flowers have permeated the air and you feel alive every time you go high and float back down. What could be better. This is the life, not a cloud in the sky.

Except you left the gate open.

You look around as you slow the swing. What is that smell? Is that a wild boar? Where is that patch of red, the pretty pansies are gone. What is going on here? My yard looks different.

Several days, weeks have gone by. Your yard has patches of dirt where there was once flowers. The swing is hanging by one rope and the board looks to be chewed in half. The Weeping Willow looks almost dead. The fence seems to be leaning over in some areas. That smell, it's permeating the air, but it's not pleasant. The weeds, well, they look like trees. That Veggie Tale movie, "The Rumor Weed" has new relevance at this point! And it looks as if the Rumor Weed had as many children as the "Old Women Who Lived In the Shoe!"

The gate is still open.

Shut the gate!

Hebrews 12:14 and 15 "Pursue peace with all men, and holiness, without which no one will see the Lord: looking diligently lest anyone fall short of the grace of God; lest any root of bitterness springing up cause trouble, and by this many become defiled;"

What is your bitter root? Alice Smith in her book "Beyond the Lie," defines a root of bitterness as judgments made about an offense, a situation, words spoken or actions taken against us or someone we love without properly forgiving or resolving the issue. That covers quite a few situations.

Do you have something you could categorize in one of those areas?

What happens when we don't forgive and resolve? Is it a cycle that repeats itself over and over? Is it becoming a pattern of sin that is now becoming a stronghold in your life? Literally taking hold of you with strong hands? Clutching you back as you reach toward the prize?

Does it remind you of the bucket of blue crabs?

I go back to the yard. I confess to the Lord my bitter "roots," I release the offender, and I apply the blood. The blood can only come from death. Death on the cross. His death. The reality of the cross is death. Life comes after death, even on the cross.

I picture my yard like this:

I have a floppy straw hat on, gardening gloves and boots. I have a nice big jug of ice water, an I-pod, and a wheel barrel with shovels and clippers and lots of gardening equipment. I am prepared. "Therefore prepare yourself..." Jeremiah 1:17a

I start digging up the weeds. I cut them with the clippers first. I now go for the root. I pull it up and toss it into the wheel barrel. I do this all over the yard. I leave nothing behind. I go over the entire area and this time my gate is shut! "...to root out and pull down, to destroy and to throw down..." Jeremiah 1:10b

The yard looks bare. I have a roto tiller and I am preparing the soil to plant. I am singing praises, I am walking over the ground speaking the Word of God, and praying. I must look wild, most definitely. I no longer care how the world views me. Call me David. I will dance before my Lord with reckless abandonment. This will be fertile soil.

Now this is where the seed must be planted. "...to build and to plant." Jeremiah 1:10c

Galations 5:22 and 23 reads like this, "But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, long suffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. Against such there is no law."

We must plant the seeds that will bear the fruit of the Spirit. These are the seeds I am planting in my yard. I want my yard to look like a scene taken from a Miracle-Grow commercial. I want love with action. I want an unspeakable joy. I want the peace that passes all understanding. I want long suffering that is incomprehendable. I want kindness in the face of ugly. I want goodness to wipe out the filth. I want faithfulness like that found in Hebrews. I want gentleness inspite of violence. I want self-control that reveals Jesus.

Now, I love the outdoors and at one time I wanted the farm thing. I still dream about it, but reality is, I'm a beach girl. I don't know the specific details about planting, growing and harvesting. I do know the seed goes in the fertile ground that has been prepared with fertilizer and water. I also know the seed must die and fall off before the plant starts to grow and bear fruit. I am not sure what all the technical terms are. I just know dying is involved. Then life.

Let's go back to the bucket of blue crabs a few minutes. How do they get relief? How do they get out of the vicious cycle of one-up-man ship and just plain misery? Death. It's death. The only way that crab is getting out is into the boiling pot. It is in the death that he is then able to offer delicious, flaky, melt in your mouth crab meat for others to enjoy. A pure and costly in season only gourmet treat.

How do we show others love? joy? peace? long suffering? kindness? goodness? faithfulness? gentleness? self-control? When does it become pure and costly? What does it look like in season and as a gourmet spread?

Don't we have to die to self or flesh first? How much has it cost you? Peace is easy when we have a cushy job, perfect kids, live in a spotless mansion, have money trees in the back yard and have the love of our life beside us smiling daily. Peace is not so easy when we have lost even a difficult job, have rebellious kids, live with relatives in a house that is too small and falling apart, have no money on these trees out back or in the bank.

What about our reputation? Is it being drug through the mud? Is our name being tarnished? Is your name the latest untruthful gossip around town? Does what you did at 16 still haunt you today? That rabbit in Bambi with the cute little speech problem that says, "If you can't say something nice, don't say nothing at all." Sounds good when you watch that movie with your 4 year old, but after seeing an old high school beau that said some rotten things about you all over town...a bit harder.

The bottom line for you and Mr. Blue Crab. Death. Death to flesh and self. Most people know about the story of Job. He gets back more than he had at the end of the story. But, he lost his wealth, family and his health. It my be great to know the end of the story. We, as Christians know the end of the story. It gives us hope. We need hope. We get excited about our reward.
But Job had loss. He had lots of loss. You can't sugar coat your way through Job's story, September 11th, Hurricane Katrina, the list goes on and on.

In my Bible there is a commentary about Job. It reads, "Suffering itself is not the central theme; rather the focus is on what Job learns from his suffering." James is clear there will be suffering. A wise woman, Theresa McBean, a pastor for Celebrate Recovery did a series on suffering last January. Her opinion, as so many others, is that we will all suffer. Not if, but when. Why not be prepared as Jeremiah urges?

Quit grasping for freedom by stepping on others with your harsh words. Quit trying to hold tight to the edge of the bucket. Quit laying on the bottom screaming, "Ouch!" Quit snapping your pinchers at everyone and then question why you feel so isolated? Release. Let go. Die.

It is only in our crucifixion of the flesh, disguised as self life, that there is life. John 10:10 says, "The thief does not come except to kill, and to destroy. I have come that they may have life, and have it more abundantly."

Stranded in a bucket of blue crabs?

What are you waiting for?

Fillet your flesh!

#4 in a series of 5

Almost done with the series! We are at #4. Quite an unusual birth story, but for all of you pain intolerant people...I had an epidural! three cheers for the anaesthesiologist!

I need to issue a bit of a background on this pregnancy. This baby is the only baby I did not require several hospitalizations or home health care with. Don't get too happy for me, though...
I still threw up. I have very not-so-fond memories of driving through the carpool line with a cup in my hand for..., yea, you get it, no need to say it. Yes, while driving through the carpool line I threw up!

It was one of the most eventful pregnancies of all. I will try to hit the highlights:

The Twin Towers fell

My marriage was crumbling

I had to work on Thanksgiving Day

I was fired from Bayfront Hospital

My son was put on ADHD medication

We lived in a 2bedroom/1bath apt. above a photo studio

I got a parking ticket at least once a week

We thought the baby had Down's Syndrome from the AFP test

My Burgundy Explorer stopped forever on the Skyway Bridge

We got the passenger van with "limo lights" and a VCR

I ate lunch with my best friend almost every weekday

The Main Street Cafe was still open

We ate at Poppi's every Sunday

I was Meghan's T-ball Mom

Walt was Jeb's Assistant Coach

Jeb had his first baseball glove stolen

Meghan got a busted lip from playing baseball with Jeb

just in time for school pictures!

Reagan and Meghan had a dance recital at the Sarasota Opera Theatre

I had an epiphany while Jennifer went skiing in March

(if you want to know the epiphany...that's another post)

I went into labor the night before Meghan's T-Ball Team Banquet

(that I was in charge of)

It was 11:00pm on a Tuesday night. Everyone was fast asleep but me. I was watching Law and Order and I noticed that every time it went to a commercial I would have pain. By the end of the program I knew I was in labor and the contractions were pretty regular. I woke up Walt and called my in-laws who lived 2 hours away. Walt had to stay with the kids until his mom and dad got there to relieve him. So, how am I going to get to the hospital?

Walt wanted me to wait until his parents arrived. The last 3 labors had gone like this: 24 hours, 12 hours and 6. If I waited 2 hours and had already been in labor 1 hour...no way. I was getting an epidural this time! It was worth it. I would just drive myself. I could not take a chance in missing out on the pain relief.

Walt reluctantly took my bag down and drove the van around to the front of the photo studio. He helped me get in the vehicle and said, "Be careful. Call when you get there."

I put the car in gear and by the time I reached the end of the street under the red light, I had a contraction. That pattern would remain pretty consistent throughout the 5 minute drive. At every red light, I would have a contraction.

Once I parked and went into the ER and they sent me to Labor and Delivery the pain was subsiding a little. The nurse checked me and hooked up a baby monitor and started asking 20 questions. She was not too happy with the fact I drove myself to the hospital.

Turns out that the labor was not going to be 3 hours as I had so meticulously counted on. I ended up being admitted and taking a sleeping pill. Please don't ever do that. I just ended up with heavy, watery eyes, in and out of reality, all the while feeling every ounce of each contraction.

Sarah was born the next morning, May 8, 2002, by 9am.

Sarah is going to be our worship leader one day and she really knows how to make a grand and dramatic entrance, even from the womb! I think that might be quite prophetic for God's calling on her life!

#3 in a series of 5

Now this is baby #3 birth story. We will refer to it as the "Drive-thru Birth" for a variety of reasons...

Once again, I went into delivery following a midnight shift. ( I know I am skipping ahead and going straight to the delivery, but it's all the same as the last one. Throwing up, home health care, IV's, ketone sticks... You get the picture. Need we review?) Walt was extremely tired. We had only been in our new house 25 days and we were up to our eyeballs in boxes. I also was once again unsure of the real labor pain thing. I had alot of Braxton Hicks with Reagan and I was not sure if this was the real thing.

I was finally convinced of the pain and decided to wake Walt. I got Jeb and Meghan ready and grabbed a few necessities, literally throwing them in my bag as I headed out the door. (Quite the contrast to baby #1 and starched pajamas!) I did notice a beautiful red rose that had bloomed overnight on my rose bush by the door.

We headed straight to the Birthing Center and I was feeling some real pain. After an examination the mid-wife felt I needed to go walk for about an hour and then come back. Well, an hour would give us just enough time to drop off Jeb and Meghan at my mom's. This was before cell phone's and the plan failed because she wasn't home.

So, we are on our way back to the Birthing Center. The pain is getting quite bad by this point and I am breathing rather hard and Jeb is in the car seat mimicking me! "Hee. Hee. Hoo. Hoo."
Not very funny to a pregnant woman in pain not wanting to deliver the baby in a Ford Explorer!

Okay, this is where the first drive-thru comes in. Walt, Jeb and Meghan all decide they are hungry for chicken nuggets. I am not kidding you. There is a pregnant woman in the car, in labor, having severe pain and Walt drove through the Burger King drive-thru. He ordered chicken nuggets my friends, and even asked me if I wanted anything. "No thanks. Not unless they have pain meds or an epidural. Could we get back to the Birthing Center NOW?!"

We are now at the 2nd drive-thru part. Walt pulled in to the Birthing Center, dropped me off, they determined I was 5 or 6 centimeters dialated and they whisked me out the back in a wheelchair. We were on our way to the hospital across the parking lot, up the freight elevator with an incubator coming down the hallway.

Now, ladies, this is my crowning glory with all of my deliveries. No epidural or pain medication! I did this one all natural and in a flash!

I would love to say it was because I was so brave, but it wasn't. It was because once I got into the room and into my nightgown, she was ready to come into this world. Drive-thru part #3.
I tried to get an epidural and pain medication, I did! The mid-wife said, and I quote, "You can't have anything for the pain, honey, your baby is crowning. You need to push." So much for that. No choice here. I think I do better sometimes with no choices. I did that time.

In fact, by the time my mom and Walt arrived to the hospital the baby was in the incubator! My mom and Walt couldn't believe it and I was just incredibly relieved!

We named Reagan late that night. Walt was rocking her. The hospital room was facing the river, where boats were covered in Christmas lights and holiday music was playing in the background. We started going through the alphabet and when we got to the letter R, Walt said Reagan. I liked it. He liked it. She was named Reagan Lane Smith. Born December 7th, 1998, weighing in at 7 pounds and 15 ounces.

Suggestion for any pregnant ladies out there...feed your man before going into labor!

#2 in a series of 5

This is my birth story about baby #2. We call her Meghan, Lego My Mego, Meggie and having 3 younger siblings, Megit has also been used a few times. As I write this she is turning 13 in 10 days! WOW! My sweet little Mego.

There was really nothing remarkable about Meghan's pregnancy. As usual, I threw up from the time of conception to the time of delivery. She was my first pregnancy that required home health care. We had a mini hospital set up in the master suite. By the end of the pregnancy I new more about IV pumps, stands, heparin locks and ketone strips than I ever wanted or needed to know!

The worst day of the pregnancy was probably when I passed out after they gave me a shot of lidocaine to help with the pain from the port they were getting ready to put in my upper arm. I was pretty nervous about having a plastic tube inserted in my arm, so I opted for numbing "stuff." AKA: Lidocaine. Well, turns out I had a little allergy to it and my heart rate shot up and I passed out! Of course, it was all from the comfort of my own easy chair at home. I was even in my p.j.'s! The nurse reacted rather promptly and I lived to tell the story!

It was definately a privelaged pregnancy in every other way. I spent a week in Vero at the beach, IV stand and all. She was delivered at the very fancy Boca Raton Memorial Hospital. The room was like a hotel. In fact, in the movie "Marley and Me," they show Jennifer Anniston coming out of that very hospital. Meghan thought that was pretty cool.

The best thing about the fancy smancy hospital was my meal after delivering the baby. Gourmet fried chicken with a honey glaze. I don't know how they made it but it was the best fried chicken I have ever tasted in my life! Sorry, Granny, even better than yours!

I had 2 false "episodes" with Meghan. You think I would have had more sense about real labor pains having gone through it once before. But...I didn't. We made the trek up to the hospital twice before the actual event happened.

Once it happened it was while Walt was getting in from the midnight shift, of course! The labor was only 12 hours with Meghan but intense back pain. I almost made it without the epidural. Almost. She was quite stubborn, a face presentation delivery. This meant that after intense pushing, because of her head position, she would go back up the birth canal. Very frustrating and exhausting. When my doctor, Helen Salsbury, got up on a stool and pushed her whole body weight on my stomach, it was then I said, "Enough. This child has to come out!"

Meghan's birth had interrupted my dad's golf game, but he had finally arrived. It was a rather blistery day in Florida for February. My dad wasn't in shorts! The new grand baby was a girl. 10 perfect toes, 10 perfect fingers, 10 on the APGAR's.

We named Meghan after Meg Ryan and had all intentions of calling her just "Meg." It never stuck, though. I guess alot didn't stick because my mom called all our family in Virginia with a different name! It was quite funny when my Grandmother and cousins called to say congratulations on "Mallory. " I might also add that "Meg" was Meghan's 2nd name choice because our first name, "Madison" was already given to another baby in the nursery! Confused? So was my mom!

Funny stuff looking back now. Especially now, 10 days from birthday #13! The Lord has blessed us with Megahn. She was 7 pounds and 4 ounces. She cried alot and was very colicky. She was so blonde that she looked bald. She was miracle #2! Thank You Jesus...again!

"Finder's Fee"

I will try to make this more of a "short" story, but it's going to be hard. Lot's to say today!

Last week going back to work was not quite so harsh with a "Teacher Work Day." Getting back in the routine slowly; having time to catch up on all the paperwork that was neglected for candy cane kisses and gingerbread hugs; and sharing holiday happenings with co-workers made it a tad bit easier.

In my conversations with my boss I kidded her that I deserved a "finder's fee" for wooing my college friend to work with us. Who is an awesome find! I encouraged my employer for the terrific boss that she is and just wanted her to know how great it is to work for someone so pleasant and ethical.

The week got back into the swing of things by Tuesday and it was wonderful to see all the kiddo's. It was also wonderful to have a paycheck. Tuesday was payday, and although the check was to be a lot less because of all my days off, every little bit helps!

You can imagine my surprise as I opened the envelope and noticed a typo. Too much money here! I scanned the check stub... in black and white it read: Finder's Fee 100.00

Unbelievable! I was absolutely amazed! A finder's fee, are you kidding me? I am amazed at my God! He just NEVER ceases to amaze me.

I called and thanked my incredible boss and the next day, left a cute pink and brown polka dot pen holder on her desk. What a sweetie! See what I mean? Who has a boss like this? I am so blessed!

Push ahead to this past week, in fact, just yesterday. The start of the day, not so great. I wanted to put my car in reverse, back out of the parking lot and just go home! I did not have the energy to treat students. I had to, though. Prayer. Conversation. Prayer. Phone died. I'm going in!

I got out of my car and went into the school. It would be fine. I said my "good mornings," gave away some smiles, treated my first student. This would be fine. The day is going to be okay. Oops! It is 11:02, I better go get *Sammy. Off I go. He is such a sweet kid. He loves to do bubbles and always wants a sticker.

We made it back to my room. We usually work outside in the courtyard, but it was cold today. I even closed my door. I almost always leave the door open. Pretty cold today. Oops again. I was supposed to go get *George. It's too cold. I will see him tomorrow. We are here and settled. Me and *Sammy will just make a day of it.

I pulled *Sammy's wheelchair over to the table. I wanted him to do an activity that required cutting, coloring, gluing and utilizing his visual perceptual skills. While we were setting up shop *Sammy said, "I love you Ms. Bev. You are my best friend."

It was then I noted 2 things in my spirit. Number one, I am glad I didn't drive away this morning and number 2, I knew what the Lord wanted me to say next.

"I love you, too, sweetie, but you know who wants to be your best friend?"

"Who?" *Sammy inquired.

"Jesus."

And with that one awesome word... a new name was written down in the Lamb's Book of Life.

I can't even tell you what an incredible experience it was and how the posture and timing was perfectly divine. That will have to be a whole other post. I can tell you, though, when we are faithful in the little, He is faithful in the big! If I could have had a video camera to catch that moment! In my family I am famous for saying, "That's a Kodak moment." Well, friends, that was a Kodak moment if I ever saw one!

As I bounced home, well, it sure felt like bouncing or flying, one... I called a few friends to tell God's glory story. I told the girls as soon as I picked them up and we were all celebrating with the angels.

Now every good celebration deserves a treat. Our treat was going to the local thrift store. My dad has a special name for it. He calls it the "Goodwill Boutique." So, off we went to the "Goodwill Boutique."

We sat down and went through stacks of children's books. We found a brand new "Love you Forever" book that Lily has wanted for quite some time. We found some treasure! Our last stop was to try on my jeans in the fitting room. As we were all squished in the dressing room like sardines I reminded the girls of the incredible miracle that I got to be a part of earlier that morning. They were smiling and just taking in the wonder of it all when Reagan got that look.

"Don't you get something, Mommy?"

I laughed and said, "No. *Sammy gets something. He gets to go to heaven forever."

And my sweet precious girl says, "I know! You get a finder's fee from God! It's like He was giving you a hint last week when your boss gave you that finder's fee in your paycheck!"

We laughed so hard!

It may not sound high class or upscale. It may not even sound plausible to some. But I promise, it doesn't get any better than trying on designer jeans for 80% of the price, being with your gals, celebrating a new life in Christ and having a 10 year old wrap it up using timing like a seasoned comedic veteran! I mean, who but God could weave all those details together?

I love my God.