I lost my heart in Plano Texas

Absolutely stunning how your life changes so completely that you cannot quite remember exactly that it was ever different than it is right now.

[Side bar: that has got to be the most wildly constructed sentence ever. You may strike it from the record.]

Six weeks ago this evening I took Katie to the hospital and got her situated with the plan to return the next morning when they induced labor. The doctor told Katie the plan, he told his office staff the plan, he told the hospital the plan. Katie told me the plan. Katie told her friends the plan. Katie even Facebooked the plan. I told my family the plan. I told my co-workers the plan.

We simply forgot to tell Sophie. She was having none of that and decided she was going to let her mama know that about 1:00 a.m. just a few short hours after Katie's admission and my trip home to get "a good night's sleep". Twelve hours later after much discussion, prayer and tears Katie agreed to have a C-section and at 1:51 p.m. in the afternoon of June 23 truly the most beautiful baby in the world took her first breath. There's something surreal about sitting at the head of your own child as doctors and nurses are cutting her open and lifting up your first grandchild. I know I'll not soon (not EVER) forget that.

What I had forgotten is how little sleep a person gets when a newborn is in the house. Ahem.

With out further ado I offer proof that she is, indeed BEAUTIFUL.
This is her first Sunday in church - she is 12 days old here:

Just had a bath - she is almost 4 weeks old

She is 5 weeks old here - and she wasn't asleep but she did not want that camera in her face and was not cooperating. No sir.

And here are the latest - she is just two days shy of being 6 weeks old. These were taken yesterday -- it was Baby Dedication day at church. A big bow for a big occasion.


"for this child we prayed and the Lord has granted us what we asked of him. So now we give her to the Lord, for the whole of her life she is given to the Lord."

1 Samuel 1:27 (with a bit of poetic editing since Samuel was a he)

And this is what keeps me away.........

Sophie Joy

Born: June 23, 2009

1:51 p.m.

7 lbs. 10 oz.

21 inches

PROUD MIMI -- That would be ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh my. Life is so good.

Today is this one's birthday. Since it took me 3 weeks to post Katie's Happy Birthday memories it just wouldn't do to post memories of Matt on time. I'm pondering on what I'll write about you. This is the first time you've had a birthday and not been somewhere at least CLOSE. I know you are celebrating in China. So...Happy Birthday, Son.

We love you and we miss you.

Forgive my late posting of this....

May 9, 1988

Twenty one years ago this morning I awoke thinking I had wet the bed. It took only a few moments to realize that I was having a baby that day! Excitement!! You were due on May 8 - Mother's Day. What a Mother's Day gift! But, you wanted to come in your time not anyone else's so you made me wait a day to get that precious gift. I learned in September of the previous year that I was going to receive the gift of all gifts. It was so unexpected -- we had finally laid to rest any dreams of enlarging our family. The pain that sent me to the doctor that day in September had me fully expecting I would have a hysterectomy before the day was over. Instead the doctor came into the room with a big smile on his face and said "You are going to have a baby!" After giving up on all the drugs, temperature charts, and calendar watching. I was having a baby. This was long before sonograms were routine and parents just waited along with everyone else to learn the sex of their baby. I knew though. I knew almost from the beginning that the baby that I was carrying inside was a little girl. I planned for that certainty. The nursery was decorated based on that certainty. The name was picked based on that certainty. (How glad we are there is not a 21 year old boy on this earth named Katie!) So I wasn't a bit surprised when Dr. Hands asked me at 10:00 the evening of May 9 - "Now what were you wanting?" and then "Well, you've got a baby girl!" I had a much improved situation as far as birthing goes between your oldest brother and you so I was fully aware of all that was going on and I remember so well your little face looking up at me when he laid you on my chest a few minutes later. At that very moment our lives were entertwined in that magically blessed way that moms and daughters grow and I assure you my life has not been the same. You were very nearly born talking in full sentences and singing. Oh, my baby, you had a song for everything. Then the great sadness. The singing stopped. For you, the mourning. The confusion. The pain. For me, the guilt, the engulfing tide of guilt that I had failed at keeping my baby safe. The fear of knowing that the pain was destroying you. The helplessness because I couldn't stop it from happening.

Your growing up years were hard. Hard for you. Hard for everyone who loved you. Oh, there were many wonderfully bright and funny times. But the sadness and the pain was never very far from your eyes. Never very far from my heart. The years brought lots of changes in your young life. Divorce. Single parenthood. You had to share your momma - something you weren't quite prepared to do - with 12 other little kids as I supported us with by opening the daycare center. Then remarriage. I chuckle to this day at how readily you took to Thomas ("Tommy" to you and ONLY you). You even changed your name before I changed mine. Yep - you were Katie Collard before I became Michelle Collard. That's just the way you are -- see what you want and then go after it. Katie Collard was a happy little girl. There still wasn't a song, but there were glimpses of the happy baby you began life as. There were so many nights I walked the floor, crying out to God for your rescue, wondering if I'd said goodbye for the last time. Praying, pleading for someone, somehow to reach through the pain and help you to see what was so evident to me. I look at you and see a magnficient creation of my Father's - a beautiful blonde haired girl with eyes that change color with your mood and the clothes you wear. You smile with your whole face and it's impossible not to smile back - regardless of how hard I would try not to. You have a beautiful voice and one that should be used often -- I love hearing you sing and some of my most meaningful memories are those where we stood side by side and sang on the praise team together.

I know I failed you many a time, Kate - I'm a flawed and fallen old woman in a flawed and fallen world. But I did and I do love you with my whole heart and am grateful and humble and proud that of all the little girls born on May 9, 1988 it was you that God loaned to me. Now in a few short weeks your life is changing in ways you can't possibly imagine. It's hard for me to accept that my baby is all grown up and is going to have a baby -- where did the time go? Little Sophie will come and you'll discover the joys of motherhood first hand. You are going to be a wonderful mother. It is quite true that God brings blessings in all sorts of unexpected ways and this little life growing inside of you is such a big one. It's because of her that you've discovered the will and the determination to be all that you were created to be. It's because of her that you will sing again. You have such a powerful testimony and so many lives are going to be reached and forever changed because of that story. The work He began in you is being perfected. In your honor I close with this Word from God....it's your song...your future...

He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God.
Many will see and fear and put their trust in the LORD. Psalm 40:3.

Now I'm sad.

As you've surely gathered, the humongo corporation I work for was acquired by another humongo corporation and now we are one conglomerated double humongo corporation. Many changes, many lay-offs, much tears and sadness. I used to love my job, love coming to work. I am struggling now. Struggling to understand why I'm here when so many extremely qualified (9certainly more than me) are not. Struggling because my two sisters in Christ that got me the job in the first place are no longer here. It's been an experience - this working in a non-Christian environment. An eye-opening one. A couple of things have happened that make it so clear to me how I am in enemy territory and that scares me a bit and makes me sad at the same time. I love many of these people. That they don't know Jesus breaks my heart. I suppose that is why I'm here. I keep a Bible on my desk. It's just there. Has been since the beginning. One day an attorney came by and needed my help on something and he came around my desk so that he could see my computer screen. He saw my Bible and said "What's that?" and I said "My Bible." and he backed up and said "oh" and quickly left -- it felt as though he were worried it would jump out and bite him. Today that same guy was in the office of another attorney who sits by my desk. I have no idea what they were discussing but I heard one say in a very sarcastic tone, "Well, I guess we could go to that EDS National Prayer Event." Then they laughed and remembered I was there and quickly shut the door and began talking in low whispers.

It made me sad for Jesus. It made me sad for them. I'm having a hard time understanding this old world I live in. I'm worried about the world I'm leaving for my baby granddaughter.

Now I'm just sad. Too sad to make an interesting post. Or a literate one.

Check in

For goodness sake I'm meeting myself coming and going. To borrow from a talented author, it's been the busiest of times, it's been the boringest of times. At least boring to report on. Mostly we are knee deep in baby preparations around here. Katie is not having an easy pregnancy and she is longing for the end of it to come. On the other hand since we are not at all ready for Sophie to arrive just yet it would be most fortunate should we be allowed those last 7 or so weeks. My Waterloo may well be this stinking chair we are attempting to reupholster. Actually what we are currently attempting is just getting the current fabric OFF. There are approximately 5 staples per square inch. Staples that are about 14 inches long. I may or I may not be exaggerating a tad bit. Once we get the fabric off and the new material cut it should go together pretty quickly. It's going to be SO CUTE. In my mind's eye anyway.

Speaking of my mind's eye, I'm young and skinny there. Just saying. I'm also poised, cool, calm and collected. If only. Perhaps then I would have been able to articulate to the Customer UNservice representative at Target exactly how frustrating their return policies are. When presented with the undeniable fact that indeed, this playpen, bumbo seat, dishwasher basket and 5 new born outfits were all purchased from Katie's baby registry you would assume they would be willing to accept them back, give us STORE CREDIT, mind you -- not cash, and allow us to go back and spend almost twice what the credit was for a car seat. One would think that. One would be dreadfully wrong. Hell hath no fury like a pregnant woman scorned by a snippity store clerk. As much money as we spend in that store you would think they would greet us at the door with tea and crumpets.

Book club meets tonight. This month we read Blue Like Jazz. I'm really looking forward to the discussion. That book would qualify as an Ebenezer in my life. (I just googled "Ebenezer" to see what I could find in the way of explanation in case someone was puzzled. I found a great article here from someone I'd never read before but believe I'll be going back.) It was very, very challenging to my status quo, middle-class, card-carrying Republican, conservative Bible thumping Christian living right smack dab in the Belt Buckle of the Bible Belt self. It was painful at times. It was joyous too. I'll be righteously indignant if the other ladies aren't as complimentary.

This post is all over the place....just like my mind. I'm going to do better. Some day.

Ministry

Yesterday began a three week emphasis on missions. We had a guest speaker who has planted a church in downtown Lubbock TX to minister to the homeless. What a work of pure love (James 1). I know from our own experiences with addiction that it's a hard, grueling journey. If you feel called to work with those whose appetites of one sort or another have derailed them from the mainstream you have got to know you are entering a work where the successes are few and far between. It's a one step forward, three steps backward affair. It's rewarding, it's filled with unique joys and it's hard. He didn't talk about his ministry at all -- these were just thoughts that were going through my head as I prepared to listen to him. Because a very unwelcome thought came to my mind and I spent the next however many hours trying vainly to squash it right down into the black hole of my memory.

I don't want to be called to a hard ministry. I want to take a cake to my neighbors. I want to invite my children's friends to Vacation Bible School. I want to donate money so someone else can go. I want to donate some more money. What I don't want is to get down in the trenches. I am ashamed of that. But I'm not sure I'm ashamed enough. I've been down in the trenches before. I know what it's like. What is it in me that has allowed me to think I've done my time and I don't want to do it anymore? Where did I see an example of that in Jesus' life?

The minister spoke on John 4 and the Samaritan woman. He said something that opened my eyes to something I'd not noticed before. You know the story -- the disciples go to town to buy food, Jesus stays behind, the woman comes out to draw water and Jesus engages her in a conversation. At one point she says (paraphrase) "I know that the Messiah is coming and he will explain all this religion stuff." and Jesus says "It's me. I'm the One." I missed it all these times of reading. This is the first time that Jesus publicly declares He is the One and he does so not in fanfare, not in a huge crowd and not even to his friends. He does it to a woman that no one wanted to be seen with. Likely a prostitute. Certainly a "bad woman". She turned around and became the first missionary because she brought the town out to see what she had discovered. Jesus entrusted his identity and his mission to someone I, in my middle class, white, suburb spend my days trying to avoid. I think singing "O To Be Like Thee" would be a bit blasphemous right about now.

I'm pretty sure that's not the right response.