NoPax

Today is Noah's 2nd birthday!  I can't believe my baby is so big.  It seems like yesterday that he was an infant.  I remember looking into his face and wondering what he was going to be like when he got older, wondering what his voice would sound like, wondering how his features would change.  He's such a sweet child.

It's amazing how when you are pregnant you feel like it's forever before that baby gets here.  You are uncomfortable, sick, tired, and anxious.  Then that baby gets here and after a while you have a hard time remembering the discomfort.  The same thing happens when you have an infant.  You forget what sleeping through the night feels like.  You have a hard time visualizing what it's like to have a toddler.  Those moments are so fleeting it's important to remember.

Noah was a planned c-section.  I had so many problems with Zoe's delivery that my doctor and I decided that would be best.  I didn't want the surgery.  I was terrified and even after enduring what I went through with Zoe's birth, I wavered with that decision.  We went to the doctor on the Thursday before Good Friday for an ultrasound and it was decided then that Noah would come the following Tuesday.  I remember going back to work and telling everyone that I would not be back after the Easter holiday.  My shower was that afternoon and suddenly it was becoming so real. 

With Zoe my water broke and I didn't have time to dwell too much on what was going to happen right before the delivery.  This time I knew for certain that we were going to have a baby on Tuesday, April 6.  I was so excited, trying to make sure everything was done before baby came.  We went through Easter weekend, busy as always, and I was very aware that this was our last time as a family of three.  I was so excited for Noah to be here but also mourning our final moments with Zoe as an only child.

Tuesday morning came and we had to be at the hospital at 10:30 (I think, I may be wrong here).  I had already had my lab work done the day before and was  sporting my hospital bracelet.  Zach went to take Zoe to school while I showered and repacked my bag for the millionth time.  Zach was late getting home, he's a gabber and has a problem breaking off conversations, and I was already stressed.  I am the type to rather be at a place 20 minutes early than five minutes late.  Finally we got the car loaded and off we went to the hospital. 

Several babies decided they wanted to arrive on baseball's opening day (one reason we chose that day rather than a day later in the week) so we were running behind schedule.  I wasn't there long before the braxton hicks I had been experiencing for a few months turned into full-on contractions.  The nurse would pop in periodically and ask if I was feeling those contractions.  You will be proud of me, I didn't smack her once.  Finally the time came and I was wheeled into surgery where after more waiting and 3 attempts at the spinal (OWEY) the time had finally come to see my sweet child.  Two and a half hours later than scheduled I heard those sweet cries.  No love was more instantaneous.

He was a good baby.  He slept a lot and ate a lot, not much has changed there.  He also had colic the first two months, just in the evenings.  As rough as those evenings were the fact he was so sweet the other times more than made up for it.  I never had that feeling of complete exasperation like I had with Zoe.  Life was lovely and those weeks passed so quickly.

Noah is now a very energetic, adventurous, happy two year old.  He is my cuddle-bug, my sweet heart.  He is my biggest "helper" and during those rough months in New Boston, he was my joy.  I can't wait to see what kind of man he becomes.

Because He loves us...

I had one busy weekend and here it is Tuesday, and I am finally feeling normal again.  Friday night I had a lock-in at church.  Saturday I was able to rest a couple of hours before I got up to clean and get ready to have company over for a pool party.  Sunday was our last Confirmation class followed by a viewing of The Passion of The Christ at Wesley with the other Methodist youth groups in town.  Busy, yes, but also very rewarding.

The movie was a great way to kick off Holy Week.  I don't know about many others, but, in the past, Holy Week was mainly about Good Friday and Easter.  This year I find that I am so much more aware about what this time means to those who believe.  I find myself reflecting on the Passion as I go about my daily routine. 

We have all heard the story of the Crucifixion and the events leading up to it many times.  We read the passages from the Gospels every year and the story is always the same.  For me, however, this year is different.  I remember the first time I saw the Passion movie, years ago when it came out in theaters, and being extremely moved.  I remember crying and flinching with every strike of the whip.  This year, after teaching confirmation, I really wanted my youth to experience that same thing.  As humans, very often we need something physical, something tangible, to connect with.  The movie, although an artistic expression and not entirely biblical, is a great visual of the Crucifixion.

This time when watching the movie there was something different about me.  I am a mother now and I wasn't the last time I watched it.  I connected much more with Mary this time.  I sat there asking how I would be able to stay and see my son put through so much.  How much faith it would have to take to stand there and see my flesh and blood hanging on the cross...how much strength to stand back and allow his death to happen.  Sometimes we don't acknowledge that for Mary, Jesus was her son, whom she loved with a mother's love, and he was also her savior.  She knew what he was and what his future held and yet he was her son, a life she carried, labored for, watched as he learned to crawl, and cherished long before anyone else even knew his name.

Today I was meditating on the sacrifice that Jesus made for us.  We often think of the physical pain he was put through, the humiliation he endured, and thank Him for enduring those things.  Today I was thinking about what else he had to endure for us during that time.  Yes, physical pain beyond what we can even comprehend, but more than that.  Jesus loves us all with a love we don't even understand.  He loved the Romans who were inflicting such pain on him, who were taunting him.  He loved that man who crushed a crown of thorns on his head.  He loved those who arrested him, who put him on trial and demanded his death.  He loved Barabbas who willingly allowed Jesus to take his place up on that hill.  He loved them all more than I love my children.  He loved them and had to endure seeing them want nothing more than to see him hurt.  He loved Peter and had to deal with the knowledge that Peter would deny him, not once but three times.  He had to watch Judas betray him.  And he has to endure the hurt of seeing us deny him each and every single day.  What pain he endures for us.   We fail Him and yet He forgives us.  He continues to love us even when we fail to love one another.  I am humbled.

As you go through this week and the days beyond remember He that loves you, He sacrificed everything for you, and remember that all He asks in return is that you love.

Today I went to a worship service at noon and came away with this mantra:
1. Love everyone.
2. Love everyone.
3. Let everyone know they are loved.

Thanks Travis for that.  May you all know how much you are loved.

Never Alone

I am a Christian.  I am also a member of the United Methodist Church.  I am a Methodist by choice.  Yes, I was brought up in the Methodist Church, but that is not the reason I am one today and choosing to raise my own children in the Methodist Church.  There was a time, most of the years I was at McMurry actually, that I was completely lost.  Searching for my place in this world, searching for something that was true and worthwhile.  I remember one night in particular, kneeling on the floor of my tiny dorm room, pleading with God for answers.  My last two years at McMurry was spent with me on a mission.  I needed to find out what it was I believed.  I researched, wrote papers on topics that were, at the time, mysteries to me, all the while trying to discern for myself what was real and what was not.  I questioned all facets of religion, not just Christianity, starting with my beliefs on the very basics, starting my faith journey at the very beginning.

I can not pretend to have all the answers.  What is truth for me may not be truth for someone else.  That's okay.  I have particular beliefs about certain issues which is why I am still a member of the United Methodist Church.  The Methodist church best aligns with my own beliefs, once I decided what they were.  I am fully comfortable raising my children in this tradition, but hopefully equipping them with the ability to one day discern for themselves what they believe to be truth.

I have been blessed to be able to teach Confirmation to 12 youth these past few weeks.  I have learned alot myself.  Last week we discussed a tool for discernment known in the Methodist tradition as "the Wesleyan Quadrilateral."  For those of you unfamiliar with this, the quadrilateral is a way to prayerfully discern what God's will is for you by using scripture, tradition, reason and experience (the four sides of the quadrilateral).  I earnestly want my youth and my own children to have the ability, the tools, and the maturity to go prayerfully into Scripture, and through what they already know through their own experiences and what they have been taught in their church tradition, use their God-given gift of reason to discern their own path in this world.

We have also been teaching that even though this is a tradition in which we have chosen to live our lives, it is not our place to judge what someone else believes.  I may disagree, that is my right, but I may not judge. 

I have blogged before about certain beliefs that I consider false prophecy.  Though I do not judge those who may be misled (in my opinion) I do pray for them and encourage everyone to never believe something just because someone you trust tells you that is truth.  Ask God for wisdom because wisdom is something He never withholds.

One last thing, there is a reason they call it a "Spiritual journey."  We are forever learning, always questioning, always listening, and always teaching.

In other news Zach is spending his week in Denver with a crew of Wesley students doing mission work.  Today they are painting a house.  He texted me,"Caulking with college students is worse than with Jr. High kids."  Having experienced caulking with junior high kids, I can only imagine.  At least I know that they are enjoying themselves.

I am spending my week with my kids who are on their Spring Break.  The weather has kept us indoors for the most part and we have a case of cabin fever that has resulted in lots of screaming, tears, and a mommy about ready to tear her hair out.  Thankfully, my trusty weather man tells me the rest of the week is going to be beautiful so I hope to spend much of our time outdoors in the coming days.

I hope the rest of your week is overflowing with blessings of your own.

"I'll hold tight to what I know, You're here and I'm never alone" - Barlow Girls

Calming the storm

Wednesday nights at our church looks like this: first we have a potluck, then we gather together in the sanctuary for a short devotional led by volunteers, and then we break up into our different classes, me, of course, heading to the youth room.  This past week we had a woman talk about the different trials in her life.  Examples being laid off from her teaching job a few years before retirement, finding a new job, then 10 months before she retired having to go home and take care of her ailing mother.  After she made account of these live altering events she commented on how now, years later, she can see how God was working during those times to turn those trials into blessings.

Her talk made me think of a question I saw posed by Adam Hamilton on facebook at the beginning of the week, asking (in an abridged version because I can't remember exactly how he worded it), "How has Christ calmed the waters of your storm?"

I began to think back over the trials I have faced in my own life.  The circumstances leading up to our leaving Plainview were definite trials that left us hurt and angry.  Evil certainly had it's way there but looking back it's easy to see how God was working in our lives.  Our time in New Boston was short and difficult. It gave us a time to get used to our new lives away from our family and everything else that we knew.  As much as we enjoyed East Texas we knew it was not our forever home.  God has something else in store for us. 

That leads us to Las Cruces.  A place we hope to be for a while longer, although, our past has taught us to never get too comfortable.  I believe that is what happened in Plainview.  We had been talking about leaving, maybe when the kids were older, not making any definite plans for our future.  We were comfortable, taking life for granted.  We were busy doing instead of busy living.  Our families were all right there so it became way to easy for us to drop off the kids when Zach and I wanted to do something.  I also wanted to stay home full-time with the kids but Zach's salary in Plainview couldn't support us.  Then, when the devil was working to ruin lives, God opened a door for us, just in the most unexpected way. 

We were alone, forced to grow up and depend on ourselves.  We had no babysitters, forcing us to spend time with our kids and have so many wonderful experiences with them.  We were out of our comfort zone, forcing us to reevaluate what was important to us.

This past week, when Erin was here, I took a break from my Sunday night activities and instead, went to worship at Wesley.  As we were heading home later that night, Erin told me how proud she was of Zach.  She could see how much he had grown since she last heard him teach in Plainview.  Yes, he has grown, thanks to what this past year has put us through.

We always knew we were going where we needed to go.  We have known for awhile that God has been blessing us beyond measure.  And know we can look back, to those moments of hurt, anger, disappointment, and fear, and know God was there, to calm the waters...

As a final note I would like to attach a youtube clip of one of my favorite songs.  The words are so beautiful.

What's your calling?

Do you remember what you wanted to be when you grew up?  My precious Zoe has started a list of her future careers that keeps getting longer and longer.  To name just a few, she wants to be a superhero, a princess, an artist, a teacher, and a veternarian, among other things.  When I was little I loved to read.  The greatest of days were library days.  A trip to the mall without a stop at the bookstore was just torture.  The local used bookstore was my sanctuary.  I dreamt of becoming an author, penning my own books someday.  Unfortunately for me it became clear quite early that my talents did not lean that way.  I was destined to be a lover of books but not a maker of books. 

Once I came to accept this fact I decided to become an elementary school teacher.   That was going to be my future.  Then I went to college where I went to observe my first class of first graders and left a few hours later with a migraine.  I remember thinking with horror, "There is no way I could do this day after day."  And with one afternoon my future was suddenly unclear.  I had no idea what I wanted to do with the rest of my life.  I tried several majors, the last being religion.  I enjoyed the learning part but when faced with deciding what path to take after graduation nothing seemed appealing.  Despite encouragement from others I knew the path to seminary was not for me.  Certainly I could have made a decent career out of something but my heart would not be in it.

For years I floated from one area to the next, working in medical offices and a law office, even working in the school system as an aide to determine if maybe I could be a teacher after all.  There were facets of all my jobs that appealed to me and other parts that I hated.  I still hadn't found my calling.

Until, that is, we moved to New Boston and we were unable to secure child care. Suddenly I was thrust into the role of stay-at-home mom.  It was difficult and trying and Zoe and I had to learn how to be around each other all the time.   I got an insight into what life will be like with my daughter when she becomes a teenager (oh my!) and a balance had to be found.  After a few months though life became easier and here we are, more than a year later, and I love what I do.  Sure, it's a career choice that makes certain things more difficult, we don't have money to blow and I don't have much time that I am around adults, but I wouldn't trade this time with my children for anything.

I know that eventually I will once again be forced into the real world of working people and no, I'm no closer now to knowing what I want to do, but I have found my calling.  I am meant to be a mother.  My kids are not my identity but right now I know, without a doubt, that the most important thing I can do is be there for them.  I know that's probably not true for everyone, but it is for me. 

Now, having said all that, I would love to return to school.  I think studying history would be great and, after much research, I believe I could find a job that I could really enjoy.  For now, however, I am going to enjoy every moment that I can in the career I am so blessed to have.

Now, for an update on what's happening over here at Bechtold Manor:

Zach has been very busy, running a middle school camp a couple weeks back, and leaving Sunday for a week long mission trip to Denver.  There have been many late nights for him.  Thursday we headed up to Sacramento, just down the road from Cloudcroft, for a one night getaway in the mountains.  It snowed on us the entire time but it was so wonderful and relaxing.  We are already looking forward to our next visit up there.

Pretty serene, don't you agree?

On Friday Erin came to visit on her spring break.  We had so much fun shopping, having Friend's marathons and talking.  My parents are planning to come at Easter and we are so excited.  I have been referred by my chiropracter to physical therapy for my back in hopes that I can find relief that way but because of Zach's busy schedule (someone has to watch the kids after all) I have not been able to go.  I know my limits physically and that has helped somewhat. 

Life is good and God is great.  Blessings to you all.

What doesn't destroy us...

I hate to complain via the internet but it's been a rough week for me.  I've been struggling with back pain for over a year after injuring it trying to move to New Boston and have been visiting a chiropractor twice weekly for a while now.  After every visit I hurt more and after my visit on Tuesday was laid up in bed for three days.  That's a hard thing for anyone, especially one with two small children who, because when it rains it pours, have both gotten sick.  Zach has been able to be home a little more and that has been most helpful.  However, he's gone today, and although I am feeling better, today is very difficult for me.  You see, it was this time last year, as I was waiting for Zach to come home from Upwards basketball so we could meet some friends in Texarkana for lunch, that I started bleeding and would soon learn the pregnancy I had been 10 weeks into was ending.  In the quiet moments yesterday and today I am taken back a year ago and the next thing I know my face is wet with tears.  I mourn that life that never was and the dreams I had that never came to realization.

It's a difficult time and I certainly wish Zach was home with me instead of on yet another Wesley trip, but I know this too shall pass.  I will get through this day, just like I was able to get through the days that I endured a year ago, consumed with pain, more intense than I've ever experienced.  I will hold my children tight, tend to their needs and try not to think about the sibling they will never know.

The Lord has blessed me, and He will carry me through today, just as He has every other day.  Thanks be to Him...

Desperately Seeking Sanity...

There's no doubt that I love my children.  However, there are days where it takes extra effort to enjoy them.  Anyone with me?

I know that Zach and I are hard on the kids.  We expect a lot from them and I find myself constantly having to remind myself of their ages.  Zoe is four, she requires some slack.  I also know that they are capable of a lot and without being pushed to be better versions of themselves, they will never realize their full potential.  Some of you may be thinking right now, "Gee, that's harsh," and you may be right.  However, I want my kids to be polite, helpful, loving children with a servant's heart and without pushing them towards that, it will not happen.

That being said, they aren't perfect.  Noah has apparently entered the "terrible two" stage prematurely and some days are extremely trying.  This little man has a fury that can not be equaled, except maybe by Hulk himself.  I never quite know these days what will incur his wrath, but when it happens, hold on tight.  Zoe would throw fits but she was never the one to throw herself on the ground and flail about, without care to who or what may be in striking distance, so this is new territory for us.  So, yes, there are days, that even though I love that I am able to stay at home with my kids, I long for someone to come and relieve me of my job.  Lately, Zach has been away more than usual and I have been about to pull my hair out.  There have been moments that I definitely feel my sanity ebbing and have to remove myself from my kids company.

So, with all of these trying times I realize that I have to make the effort to enjoy being around my loving children.  For example, the other night Zach was once again absent from our home, leaving me the task of feeding, bathing and getting the children ready for bed.  Lately, bed time has taken on a new level of effort, and frankly, I was tired of the battle. I decided to just let the kids entertain each other and wear one another out, until they were just so exhausted they begged to be put to bed (snigger).  What ensued was one of the more entertaining evenings I have ever experienced with my children.  Zoe took it upon herself to teach her brother some of her favorite songs (she really is a great big sister) and from there, it became quite the little production.  They sang, they danced, they dressed up...pure hilarity.  At one point, Zoe came out with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and brandishing a hanger saying,"I have a sword and a cape. I'm SHEERA!"  If you feel so inclined you are welcome to wander over to my facebook page and watch the video snippet I caught of this evening.

Yes, parenting is hard, especially with little ones.  There will be days that make you question this notion of procreating.  There will be moments when you would be willing to give a weeks income for someone to please give you a few hours of quite alone time.  And there will be days that you ask your husband, with only a hint of jest, if you could list your son for sale on Craigslist.  In those moments I suggest to you to make the effort to put down those tasks you are constantly being interrupted from, and simply enjoy your little bundles.  It may take some effort but in the end it will be truly rewarding.

Praying you see your blessings today.