Journal Entry: Spetember 18th, 2008 Meltdown like Pompeii

The reality is that I'm having another baby.

another. baby.

Even though right now it is only 3.5 inches long and weighs about an ounce, it's still a baby. The problem? I have no guarantee that it will be healthy. At this point I don't even consider what "normal" is, I'm just looking for alive.

I had a bit of a meltdown the other night. It was short lived and unexpected, but it was still hard. I was walking down the hall and became extremely anxious. Don't know what set me off, but I was glad to have been already walking in the direction of the bedroom where B was sleeping. I sat next to him on the bed and lowered my head and cried and cried.

He woke up, asking what the heck was wrong and I had to say it. I'm scared.

And in his *ever so tender* way of dealing with my emotions he told me to stop it.


He is right. He told me I have absolutely no right tell God that He HAS to make this one ok, and that I need to lay it down at His feet. Every single time I get to thinking something will be bad I've gotta let it go.

I told him that is the problem. I can't assume that anything will be fine ever again. I know I have to walk in faith that things will be ok, but let's face it: God doesn't always have the same plans we do.

I'd noticed that I haven' tbeen praying daily for this child as I set out to do in the beginning. Fear gripped my heart and shut it off *just in case*. I've really tried to overcome this, but I'm finding it's a lot easier said than done.

I'm ok now. I'm only writing it down I guess to remember later that I am struggling. More than I write about I suppose. It's hard to wear the armor from day to day.

Journal Entry: September 9, 2008 Is one really enough??

I had said several times that as long as there was good to be had and glory to be given for Charlotte's death, I would be satisfied. I would take rest in knowing that God indeed used her short life to reach into the heart of someone to turn them around to Him... then it would all be worth it.

At least one. Just one. Someone. anyone.

And the stories came in. People, strangers sometimes, who told me how much their relationship with the Lord grew during that season. The relationships that were buried under the dirt that had started to sprout. Those that were watered. Those that were harvested.

I never prayed the sinner's prayer with anyone. I never led anyone to the Lord. I just lived my life in a fishbowl. Maybe too much of a fishbowl at times, but nonetheless, He would work out the things which were to be.

And then very shortly after Charlotte died my best friend told me that she was the one. She was the one I had prayed salvation for because of this situation. Blindly begging God to save at least one.

Just one. someone. anyone.

At the time I didn't care who it was. Just please do not let this all be in vain. But as the days grew longer.. I wondered: was one enough? As Charlotte's memory fades, would one be enough to carry on a legacy? Would it all be for naught?

I rejoiced when she told me that she gave her heart to the Lord, but I was kinda like..."eh, ok thanks God. Who else ya got?" I didn't let it soak in. Then over the past year and a half I watched this person ebb and flow with her relationship with the Lord. It's a rocky ledge to stand on when looking at your friends who you've known almost your whole life come to accept Christ. You want to guard them and lead them. But you also want to stand aside and let God do the growing and pruning as you watch for fruit. And there was fruit. But it was her fruit, not mine. I couldn't even get a taste of it because it wasn't my season anymore. I was almost bitter.

This past weekend she went on a retreat with her church. I knew she had been struggling with very strong demons in her life for the past 2 or 3 months and it scared me for her. But she came back delivered. And I wept and howled in my soul. And even now, even as I type, I cry.

I was in the shower and it occurred to me that one is plenty. One is more than I have the right to ask for. One is not an "only". But it is priceless.

Who knows, maybe she is one of many. But I'm so glad she is the one.