He is on the cusp of crawling and is sitting up to play.  I am trying to drink in everyday as I know I cannot own any of this time or get it back if squandered.

Another joy over Christmas was getting to introduce Jack to friends far and near that have been dear to Greg and me.  He also got to see his Nana and meet Geno for the first time when they came for a visit at the end of November.  Thank you God for loaning us this precious life.

A morning snack...

Merry Christmas from a tired boy...

Our new house lit up with some fun bulbs

My Momma tries to get in a lifetime of kisses before I'm too cool to let her

The oldest (Uncle Charley) and youngest (Jack) in the family

Lalee (aunt) and Jack

Jack, Lilly Claire and Boo

Jacob, Davis and Jack (Jack really digs Davis)

Meeting the Becks from Ttown

On the verge of taking off!

Now, it is the day after Christmas and all I want to do is rest and reflect.  With an almost seven month old, there is not as much built in time for reflection.  My motto is that I waited so long for him that I had tons of time beforehand to reflect–I would rather have him than that time!  (That time will come again in my life)   I am blessed to take care of him and be his mom–no room to complain here.     However, in my times of reflection, this is what I have decided this month:

1.  Unless God himself moves us somewhere, we ain’t moving anytime soon!  When I see a box, I get PTSD.  There is still so much to do, but it will have to wait.

2.  I was not meant to be a nurse or doctor–I learned that with all the care after Jack’s surgery.

3.  Christmas in our culture is ridiculous!  Plain ridiculous.  We make it so difficult.  The problem is our pride and our desire for this world to be our heaven.  We want to create this ideal and this experience for kids and families and ourselves.  No gift or experience here fulfills our need inside.  Remember wanting that certain gift…dreaming about it and then opening it and being unfulfilled?  We already want the next thing…

As women, we want to have it all together–cooking and making and buying and performing and throwing parties and mailing the perfect Christmas card.  This season, I just wanted to scream, “Stop!”  We are so noisy in our hearts we forget that this season is about worshipping the One who brought Peace with God in our hearts.  We blow Him off because we are trying to prove that we are happy and can make ourselves satisfied with the things of this world.  By the way, we cannot.

Oh the joy of letting go of all these “have to’s” and embracing Jesus and who He really is and what He came to do in our hearts.  My problem is if I want to simplify that means I will probably disappoint those who have not chosen to simplify.  Instead of being in a race at Christmas, I want to rest in Him and enjoy those around me.

As I think of Christmases to come, I have the opportunity and responsibility to shape how Jack views Christmas.  Greg and I are the ones who teach him what this is all about.  We have to plan now or we will be swept with the tide of this culture.  Nothing here–no celebration, holiday, vacation, wedding, baby, party, house, relationship will satisfy us in our depths.  It is a reminder that Jesus is the one who satisfies and that Heaven and the New Earth are where all things satisfy.  Every disappointment or longing here is meant to point us there.  I don’t want to work to fulfill Jack here…I want to tell Him and point out to Him where Hope comes from.

There are small joys here and glimpses of that eternal joy, but it will not be found in giving him $100s-$1000s of dollars worth of presents that put us in debt or giving him perfect experiences.  It is so easy to get caught up in this rat race.  Oh that my heart continually be found in Christ.

I walked with my friend, Diane, this morning, I realized I do have a lot on my plate right now.  Most of the time, when my plate is full, I tend to power through.  Tonight, it all hit me–my heart connected with what we are actually doing.

We have lived in this house for 8 1/2 years.  There has been intense life lived in these years.  INTENSE.  These are the years that I have grown into an authentic adult–through pain, responsibility, and struggle and deep growth in Christ.  Much prayer and study and laughter and conflict has occured in these walls.

I grew as a minister in these walls–ministering and being ministered to by many young women.  The first summer we lived here, I began opening our home to college women on Tuesday nights.  That study grew and deepened and moved nights.  Girls who met in that study formed deep friendships that are for a lifetime.  God grew me as a teacher and encourager.

Our marriage has struggled in the ebbs and flows of life and intimacy in these four walls.  It has been refined, and we are the better for it.  Days and weeks and months and years of prayer–in joy and struggle have occured in these walls.  These walls witnessed the week that Greg was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis–the sorrow, the pain, the fear and then the acceptance.

These walls have witnessed and sheltered us in our longing for children…and our waiting and waiting and waiting.  Sometimes this house has felt very empty in those times…the emptiness of a hurting heart.

These walls and this home have witnessed the entertaining and caring for my Daddy in his last stages of Parkinson’s.  (They witnessed the most embarrassing and yet funniest story I have about my Dad–which will not be written here:))  It makes me sad that he will never know the home that our son will grow up in.  (And never meet our son–cause they really would have loved one another!)

These walls witnessed our journey from young adulthood to middle adulthood–the wisdom and gray hairs have grown.  These walls have also witnessed my blossoming as an artist–parts of me that would not have bloomed without pain and time.  The pain has filled the walls with color and joy that will move with us!

These walls have witnessed Greg’s call to the local church–coming off the road and ministering to college students and then getting to do his dream job as a Teaching Pastor.  I am proud of his growth and maturity.

These walls welcomed our sweet Jack home this year.  He will never remember this house, but we will.  We will remember the prayers for him, the resting in God, the anticipation of his arrival, and the miracle of bringing him home.  I will gladly tell him of this house and these years and God’s faithfulness.  This house has truly been a home.  It is not impressive compared to other’s homes, but it has been consistent and a shelter and a place of life and joy–All that I wanted it to be and more.

I pray that our next house become a home to those who need encouragement, to those in pain, to those who are in need of Christ, to friends and family far and wide.  I pray that as much struggle and conflict and joy and laughter occur there so that Christ may be met and proclaimed and bring life.  All the while, I pray I not be content with what it’s walls can bring for they are not the end–may we long for the fulfillment of our eternal home.

I have been working for a month or more during nap times to de-clutter and clean and stage and trim bushes and pull weeds.  Those who know me know that I am not an organizational wizard.  If I was graded on clutter control, I would get a C- if I had a teacher who graded on improvement:).  So, this season of tackling every bit of clutter and not being able to hide it in a cabinet is interesting.  I kind of like it.  However, we sold our house very quickly (only by God’s grace) so I will not have that stress of keeping the perfect house with an infant!  Now, we are on the hunt for our next home (and by next home, barring an act of God, I mean our last home on the earth).  We are not the type of people who find it a hobby to move .

Packing for the first major trip with Jack while leaving my house “show” worthy was a bit stressful.  We thought we would do the “drive at night so  Jack would sleep uninterupted” plan on our way to Florida.  Jack pulled the “get carsick through the mountains stay awake in the car the whole way” plan on us!  He slept better for me driving during the day.  The best laid plans…  He actually was quite a trooper, even our air conditioner decided to revolt on us.  What we learned:  anything with an infant is infinitely more complicated no matter how much you plan and no matter how good of an infant you have.

The wedding weekend was a lot of fun.   I love being in the same place with friends and family.  There is never enough time to visit (especially with nap and bedtimes).  I loved seeing people love on and enjoy Jack.  This is actually the first “destination” wedding I have been to.  Emily, Andrew’s wife, is from Fernandina Beach, Florida, and we stayed at a beautiful resort on Amelia Island.  Jack did great being carted everywhere and being out of his environment.  He “swam” in the pool for the first time with his buddy, Chuck.  He was adorable! He was tired after all the festivities and ran a fever.

We are now at my Aunt’s beach house with my mom.  I got to introduce Jack to my favorite place on earth.  He’s not really impressed!  He is just appreciating the fact that we are back to regular schedule.  I have loved time on the beach in the morning to take my prayer journal and Bible.  The riches of having that time!

The time with God has reminded me how crazy these few months have been.  Getting ready to sell a house and buy a house, my mind has been focused a lot on things–cleaning them, examining them, finding what I “want” and what I “need.”  I had forgotten that moth and rust destroy so quickly.  I had forgotten that this is a tent instead of my destination.  That whole comparison monster reared it’s ugly head again.  ugh!

I am praying to remember that my treasure is not in this earthly tent of what house we live in or what it is furnished in–my treasure is Christ and fulfillment in Him forever.  I am excited about a new house, but I do not want to fixate on it and forget the things that are really important.  Pray with me on that one!  Now, for a few pics from the last week.

The Honored couple: Andrew and Emily Baker

The Cox women at the reception

Jack's buddy, Chuck. He fed him, held him, took him swimming...

Me and B at the reception

At the reception after the baby whisperer, Chuck, hypnotized Jack.

jack with moms after the long wedding weekend...

"I like the beach."

"i've had a little too much, Mom!"

Momma took me down to the beach to take pictures...she wears me out!

"I loved my time hanging out here."

When you marry, you pull people into your addictions.  Greg totally puts all the blame on me for his addiction now.  His favorite story is when both of our cars were rammed by a drunk driver directly below our bedroom window in our first year of marriage.  We did not hear a thing!  Mass destruction and the fan kept us in blissful sleep.

Now, Jack has joined in on the family addiction.  A book I read talked about how white noise helped replicate the sound of the womb and would help your baby sleep better.  Baby sleep better?  Sign me up.  The sound machine in Jack’s room plus the fan in our room helps us to hear important sounds instead of every little sigh and grunt on the monitor.  You may be appalled, but we are all quite happy with the arrangement.  I prefer to freak out only when a real freak out is called for–not the adrenaline rush of reacting to every sound my loud sleeper makes.

As I was spending time examining my heart this afternoon, I realized that the last few months have been filled with white noise in my life.  Adjusting to being a parent, increased responsibility, decreased sleep, increased stress, my heart has not been very attuned to all the changes.  I have been surviving–with white noise in the background–feeding and taking care of Jack, TV in the background, conversations that are not neccessarily life giving, schedules, prepping our house to put it on the market,  having a “good put together” face to present–surviving.  I have been content living with white noise covering up the deep places in my heart.  White noise deadens us to be able to sleep instead of being aware.

Several people have asked me how my heart has been–I have responded “pretty good.”  That was not me lying–it was just what the white noise let me see.  I have not made much room to dig really deep.  Part of this is probably a reaction to how intensely I struggled in the first month of being a mom–depression, angst, darkness.  I felt so desperately then that I could take a break from intense feelings for awhile.  Also, I have been lazy.  I have had the time to spend time studying and journaling, but I have chosen chores and to dos before the Father.  They have been a white noise covering the real cries of my heart.  That leaves a dry parched heart that looks a lot like our backyard with lots of brown and sprigs of green.

I have called this Melancholy Monday–Crossroad is starting back which signals that summer is over and the craziness of Fall begins.  This will be a new crazy with a little one.  However, God has used the melancholy attitude of my heart today to draw me to deeper water.  He does not let me use white noise forever to mask and deaden.  I asked Him to keep whispering the Gospel to me—that He died and was punished for the ways that I try to cover up my heart, He died for all the ways I do not love Him wholly, He lived a righteous life fully obedient and that is my righteousness.  I have merely to confess my heart’s idols of the comfort of white noise and cling to the Truth that He is my hope, my life.  I thank Him that I do not have to “make up” for my lack of study and dedication this summer–that is a Gospel of works.  Sounds too good to be true, doesn’t it?

 ”Oh to Grace how great a debtor daily I’m constrained to be, Let thy goodness like a fetter bind my wandering heart to Thee.  Prone to wander Lord I feel it, Prone to leave the God I love.  Here’s my heart, Lord, take and seal it, seal it for Thy courts above.”

I sit on my back porch now with the best temperature and breeze that I have felt since early May.  It is a reminder of the freshness of His Gospel every day–the freshness of His love.  He sings over me, and I am thankful.  I sit longing to choose to engage God’s heart with my heart as the fall begins and as Jack grows.  I have a big fall–supporting and loving Greg, shepherding Jack, ministry, caring for others.  In September, we add another service on Sundays that will affect our family in a great way–I have to fight for the engagement of my heart instead of simply searching for mindless comfort.   Otherwise, I will awake years from now with a numb heart that has missed the riches of knowing Him and making Him known fully.

He is a really great baby–laid back disposition, good sleeper–all things of which I cannot claim ownership!  I am not an expert–just grateful.

What have I learned these last ten weeks?

1.  There is no way to prepare for sleep deprivation.  Why, oh why, can’t we bank up time?

2.  I need my husband a lot.  I have seen that when I have been at my weakest, he has been a huge gift and vice versa.

3.  Everybody has a hot sports opinion on how you need to do EVERYTHING in taking care of a baby.  (I do not look forward to these opinions growing and growing and growing as life with a child gets more complicated.)

4.  A lot of a baby’s life right now is not about how good of a parent you are but the disposition of the baby.  Everyone takes credit until it gets hard:)   I do not know how you should raise your baby, and I am going to try hard to not tell you my advice:).

5.  Post-partum depression is a black hole–a scary place where it is seemingly impossible to think on truth.  I crashed hard–got help quickly–and had many people who were understanding and had been there.

6.  This is yet another area where I see my sin so clearly–to want to be approved by everyone, to please them, to be worshipped and admired.  Yuck!  The biggest area where this has come out has been with breastfeeding.  Greg and I were very much about wanting to breastfeed.  I took the class, read books, prayed and prayed.   Everything seemed to start well with the lactation consultant praising me in the hospital.  Then the first doctor’s appointment Jack had lost too much weight, so we had to supplement.  He immediately was a different child because he was not hungry all the time.  I then nursed, supplemented and pumped.  Every 2 1/2 hours during the day and 3 at night I practically danced a jig to get Jack to be awake to nurse.  I began to loathe the time–and I did not enjoy him in any way.  I felt myself sinking deeper and deeper and deeper into depression.  I drank water like it was going out of style–took herbs–prayed and prayed.  When I could sleep, all I did was have nightmares.  I would pump only from time to time to see how my milk production was going—and it was very very meager–depressingly meager.  We had to sit as a family and weigh the wisdom of me going deeper into the black hole while not producing much more milk or feeding Jack formula and engaging him more.  The day that I quit breastfeeding, I became a different woman.  I began enjoying him and enjoying being a mom.  Am I sad it did not work?  Yes.  Do I worry about the loss of health benefits?  Yes.

The hardest part of the whole deal now is telling people I do not breastfeed.  There is a lot of judgement!  The friends that were most helpful to me were the ones who struggled as well with production and depression.  If breastfeeding was not too much of a struggle it is easy to judge those who do not.  Having women to talk to that I trusted was invaluable.  I know God uses all things to make us more like Him, and I know this is one of those areas where I cannot please everyone.  He is teaching me to get approval from Him and not the particular parenting group philosophy.

7.  Everyone thinks their way is the right way–and yes, even I do!  Ha!  There are so many “camps” to how to do things.  Big ideas–how and when you feed your child (schedule or on demand), where they sleep, who sets the pace of life, what kind of diapers the kid wears (cloth/disposable), breast versus bottle.  We can all get so caught up in these things that we forget these choices are not our identity.

Enough of all this heavy stuff…here are some pictures!

Aslan and JackMe and Daddy rapping together at one week