Proverbs 22:1

A good name is to be chosen over great wealth;
favor is better than silver and gold.

A good reputation Will take better care of a person's life than wealth!

Proverbs 21:23

"The one who guards his mouth and tongue
keeps himself out of trouble,"

Keep your mouth shut!

Proverbs 20:3

"It is honorable for a man to resolve a dispute, but any fool can get himself into a quarrel."

In other words, initiate the conversation and actions to repair a torn relationship.
ALSO, don't walk around with a chip on your shoulder!

What is a life worth?

How many conversations do you have a day? Can you remember each one? If you’re like me, probably not. However, there are some conversations that stick in your member. Several years ago, Kara and I went to lunch with some friends from church. During the conversation, she told us that her family had fled from the Khmer Rouge and ended up in the States as refugees. She had lost a younger sibling to starvation as they fled from Pol Pot’s forces. As a parent, I could not imagine the amount of grief these parents must have carried, and I was amazed that bitterness was not evident in the conversation. (Such is the power of Christian belief.) I do not know the specifics, but I picture a mother who was too nutrient deprived to provide milk. These parents were risking their lives and fleeing their homeland in order to protect their children and give them a future. I can only imagine the atrocities, the fear, and the unknown challenges these parents faced while trying to provide a chance at life for their children.

I wonder if he promised them free college...

Many of you follow my wife's blog over at Chasing Genuine and know that our newest daughter, Alisa, has Trisomy 21, commonly known as Down Syndrome. You may have even read about our reaction to the news here. When we were initially informed that Alisa screened positive for Down Syndrome in May of 2016, it was quite a shock. Personally, only having 3 or 4 emotions at most, I didn't grieve too much at the news. Kara, however, processed every emotion possible concerning this news. (Don't read this as a knock on my wife, or women in general.  Men and women are wired differently, and science confirms it. Most men are like a 4-speed manual transmission, while women are more like a 21-speed bicycle when it comes to emotions.) 

Maybe men do have more than 4 emotions.... Needless to say, I'm not a scientist or psychologist, so I'm not here to discuss the EQ of each sex. However, I am here to discuss the different reactions we experienced when telling others about Alisa and her expected arrival. Reactions ranged from attempts to comfort, feeling sorry for us, or excitement with us at this new adventure, to indifference. Many people turned the conversation to a reflective one, making comments such as, "I couldn't imagine the grief I'd bear knowing my child might have Down Syndrome" or "There's always hope." All of which I understand; everyone comes to a moment from different experiences and will have different perspectives. Some made the conversation about them with, "I can't imagine staying in the hospital that long. I would go crazy!" When something we deem horrific occurs to someone we know, we imagine ourselves in their place. Each individual attempted to bridge the gap after hearing the news using the hardest medium of communication possible: the English language.

I'll never forget one particular conversation as I informed family members and friends of Alisa's status and Kara's hospital stay. It was right after Kara was hospitalized, and I was trying to figure out how to work, take care of Kate, arrange help, basically keep my life together. I was cruising down I-20 into Dallas one afternoon with Kate in the backseat, fresh from PDO with a mini-blue slush in hand (Dear Lord, thank you for Kevin Durant and Sonic both), rainbow headphones on and watching a cartoon on our Kindle. Once I told them the news, the phone call went something like this: "Kara will be in how long?!?!?" "Until Alisa is born, probably 6 to 9 weeks." "You're going to drive to Dallas every day?!" "As often as I possibly can.  My daughter needs to see her Mom, and my wife needs to see her daughter." (Not to mention the fact that I needed to see my wife!) "I wouldn't do it!" "Well, as a husband, I'm going to do whatever it takes to keep my family together." "Besides the trouble, I can't imagine how much that's going to cost!" "How are you going to pay for it?" "I don't know, but I'll figure it out." "If it were me, I would just-" and they stopped short. They didn't need to finish that sentence. We both knew the unsaid words that filled the silence. "....abort the baby!"

My birthday is in August, in case you were wondering. There it was. The mindset of the modern American, who probably couldn't say it in so many words, but have been trained to think that our individual wants come before the needs of other distractions. Surprisingly, I didn't flood with anger and hang up the phone, but said, "What is a life worth? How can we not do everything possible to bring Alisa into this world alive?" I'm not trying to make myself out to be some kind of martyr. Even as I said it, and even as I write this, I know there are those who have lost children in ways that I could not imagine, like my Cambodian friend.

It probably cost about $80K just to take this selfie. 

I also realize that in other parts of the world, Kara and I would not have had a choice about our daughter's health care. We would be looking at a stillbirth (or worse) because we couldn't pay for medical care up front.  Throughout the history of mankind, cultures have recognized the power of life, and were willing to sacrifice children in hopes of appeasing some angry, false God. Survival was the issue at hand. Today, as in mine and Kara’s case, the issue is rights. The right to a stress-free life; a career unhindered by sick days, children’s  programs, and  the numerous other activities that take up time we could be focusing on our career; taking that trip we’ve dreamed about instead of using the saved money to pay hospital bills or purchase necessities for a baby. But is that right?

Rights deal with justice, so that question must be answered. What is justice? An act of setting things right? Reparation for wrongs? Justice requires a victim, so when we are willing to sacrifice a child who didn’t choose to be conceived, who is unjust? Who is the victim? Oh, the killing of children is nothing new, as we know from our history books; whether Greek myths, Aztec history, or Biblical texts. People are only seen as valuable for what they can do or contribute. Granted, a baby can’t write, work, or do anything for that matter. I know it’s been said somewhere else, but there is no effort so hard nor so rewarding as that of raising a child. (I’m only four and half years into it, and I’m exhausted!)

 

Even my dog is tired!

So why did Kara and I choose to take on the stress and worry of extended hospital stays, special tests, NICU visits, wear and tear on the car and family, for a baby who might not make it to term? Because someone answered the question "What is a life worth?" several millennia ago. As far as I know, Christianity is the only faith that provides value to the valueless, whether an unborn baby or an outcast. Until Jesus died on the cross, the life of a lesser being was always used to pay for the life of a greater being. But Jesus, demonstrating God’s economy, showed that only a greater life could pay for another life. As a matter of fact, in God’s economy, the stronger life has a duty to protect the weaker life.  That’s justice.

 

....as long as the tall kid's box wasn't taken without his consent, comrades.

So, just what is a life worth? Everything. Just ask Jesus. The rest of us are still learning.

A right is a right, right?

The other night, we met up with some friends for a meal out.  It was quite the adventure since all of us are parents of little ones! Our waiter did a good job keeping up with us, the kids were on good behavior, and we had a good time. We haven’t really seen each other in a few months (you might say we’ve had a few other things going).  The three Dads ended up at one end of the table, and the three moms at the other. Almost immediately, one of the guys mentioned the picture of my daughter at the gun range I posted on Facebook a few days ago. I told him about Tactical Defense of Texas, and how the owners had been nice enough to let me take my daughter out to shoot her Christmas present during one of the range’s few quiet weekends.

Cutest shooter at the range!

 While the three of us have a similar outlook on the second amendment and gun control, we come from very different backgrounds.  I grew up shooting what most would think of as old-west style guns, mostly target shooting and occasionally hunting. My other friend has a similar background, but due to his age came into shooting in the “age of the AR” (of which I am a fan). My other friend, however, didn’t grow up shooting anything except maybe a bb gun. As we were discussing different rifles, the new executive orders establishing stricter gun control methods came up in conversation. My friend eventually screwed up the courage to ask the question, “Why do you really need an automatic rifle?”  To which my reply was, “Why don’t you need one? They’re great for hunting, sport shooting, and if needed, defense.” We kicked the subject around a little, and I made the comment that military needs have always driven gun manufacturing, and swayed the public interest one way or the other as far as firearms style. The bolt action hunting rifle many hunters use today was top-of-the-line technology at one time, as was the revolver, lever action, pump, muzzle-loader, flint-lock, and matchlock rifle.  There has always been a drive for more advanced technology concerning armament, from the flint knife onward.

Get out your measuring sticks....

 I will be the first to admit that this drive is mostly from military needs and wants, with the intent of either defending a nation’s borders or expanding a nation’s borders through conquest. (I’m not saying that force is always right, but throughout human history it has been a necessity.) If the job of the government, be it a monarch, prime minister, or president, is to protect a nation and its subjects, then the ability to defend oneself with the best available technology is of the utmost importance. Let’s break it down just a little further.  States consist of citizens, and those citizens separate themselves into groups, from regional to city, even down to precincts and districts. (Granted, depending upon location and the political system one lives in, each level of governance may have different names.)  Humans have always grouped together for comfort and safety. It’s literally an organic process: couples pair up, children are born, families grow, different families group together, forming communities. As a matter of fact, the family is the smallest form of government. In it, you find a ruling body, citizens, laws and culture, and even exchange of goods and services. But without the individual, the family, community, state, and nation are nothing. Each is made up of individuals, and those individuals need to have a means to maintain and keep their property and person safe from harm, be it through negligence or outright aggression.

Can I get these on eBay?

 Therefore, if one simply follows the logic, the individual has the right to the best technology they can afford in order to protect and defend their property. In modern terms, this means that a person should be able to arm themselves to the best of their ability and equal to the aggressor or objects against them. So, does the average person need an automatic rifle? I believe the answer to that question is a resounding YES!

Better mind your P's and Q's, lads!

I know that there are many nuances to each person’s perspective on this. Some see it as only qualified persons (i.e., military and law enforcement) have the right to use firearms to protect others.  Some believe firmly in the benevolence of the government, and trust their leaders and public officers to protect them. That’s fine and good, but it negates the idea that the individual is fully competent to make decisions and be self-sustaining on their own; that there is someone (or some group with power) who knows better than an individual. Some believe that all people are good; that no one person wants to harm another. (I wonder if they grew up completely isolated, or if they ever watch the news.) Others think that removing firearms means removing an aggressor’s ability to efficiently harm a large group of people. People are people, and there are persons in the world who desire to do harm to others. They will find a way, whether it’s with a firearm, knife, or pub glass.

I’ve watched with interest as the more popular pastors and theologians have publicly weighed in on gun

You didn't ask for my opinion, but you know you laughed!

control on both sides of the fence. Obviously, at this point, you know where I stand. Many quote specific passages or verses as if they are the final voice on the subject. (The verses, not the person!) This morning, I was reading through Esther in my Bible reading plan. Esther removes all the arguments for the individual citizen not being able to protect themselves from any threat, public or private. It has a villain, who holds public office, who plans to harm another person he is jealous of, and a plot to harm a large group of people (Jews) by turning the forces of the state upon them at the desire of a one person. In the story of Esther, the tables are turned by her intelligence and how she handled matters of state as queen. In short, a counter law is enacted that allows the Jews to defend themselves and even take offensive action toward those who would harm them. Even then, it’s not the law that saves the Jews; their ability to defend themselves does. No government authority steps in to protect them from those who desire to harm them at the community level; it’s not even said if their neighbors tried to protect them. They are left to defend themselves, and if you read the story, they do a good job of it. It’s the individuals in each community that defend their lives.

 One could argue that the lives of the citizens are in the hands of governments, and authority over life and death is given to governments. They would be correct to a certain point; that of administering justice and punishing the evildoer. While a corrupt lawmaker tries to use the law to commit genocide, another law recognizes the right of the Jews to defend their lives. Here’s the most interesting thing to all of this: God is never mentioned in the entire story, but most theologians make claims that Esther demonstrates the invisible working of the almighty in human events. From the story, it seems that God is all about making things right from the individual up. That means, each individual is enabled by the right to self-defense, and the right to act with force equal to that of the aggressor, whether it is another individual, a group, or a government. A right is a right, right?

Because the Second Amendment is all about hunting.....

Neighbors

A picture of the picture of us as new homeowners.

A few years ago, my wife and I purchased our first house. We were a small family of three, but we planned to expand through biological means and foster parenting. We had looked at the house many years before, and were impressed with the huge trees oak trees that shaded the house and large backyard, but it needed to be renovated. Between work and graduate school, I didn’t have the time to remodel a house section by section. Fortunately, another person purchased the house with plans to flip it. We came to an agreement on the price, and it wasn’t long before we sat at a large table in a conference room, signing paper after paper.  As we moved into the house with the help of several friends, I could picture her and the rest of the family playing and running on summer days in the shade of those oaks. I even imagined building her a tree house with a zip line between two trees, much to my wife’s dismay!

Even though the house had been renovated, I knew that there would still be work to be done. I have definitely found out who my crafty friends are over the years! Our house has been great to live in. We’ve hosted friends, family, and acquaintances for meals, birthday parties, holidays, and playdates through the years. Those trees have seen it all, providing shelter from the rain, shade when it was sunny and hot, and lots of leaves to rake and jump in fall. Being a native West Texan, tree care and maintenance has been a learning experience for me, but I have kept my trees pruned and periodically checked.

My dogs are notorious photo bombers!

Some of you may have noticed the blogging hiatus (well, really, I just transferred to photoblogging  on Instagram and Facebook) while my wife was hospitalized for a little over two months. During that time, people poured out of the woodwork and offered to cook meals, clean, mow, babysit, and shop. I am very grateful for those who helped, gave, or prayed, because my life narrowed to a pinpoint of keeping my family together. Extraneous things didn’t really matter; taking care of my daughter, wife, and work responsibilities were my only priorities. Even though Kara was hospitalized, I continued my morning routine of getting up early(ish) and reading my Bible on our back porch. One morning, I staggered through making coffee, poured a cup, grabbed my bible, and went to the back door.  I’ll never forget the wall of green that greeted me and thinking, “What is that? Do I need a new prescription for my glasses?” A limb had fallen off one of the trees during the night, and there it was, laying across half of my backyard. When others saw the downed limb, they thought it was a tree. It was BIG, but it had fallen perfectly so that there was no damage. A good friend of mine saw it and immediately came over (without my knowledge) and cleaned up the limb before I could even try to tackle it on my own.

First, let me take a selfie!

I called a tree service, and had the trees inspected. The trees were declared healthy, but the tree service guy told me that the original tree would need to be cut way back and half of it removed or I would lose the whole tree. It turned out water was collecting in the fork of the tree and had rotted the juncture to the point that the limb fell. I won’t tell you the estimate to remove the tree and prune other spots, but let’s just say that I could buy a small car for the amount he wanted. Fortunately, one of my buddies told me not to worry about the tree service and that he and I would tackle the limb and tree maintenance. It was a win/win situation. My friend needed firewood, and I needed a tree removed.  Problem solved! So, one Friday, I rented a boom, we collected our chainsaws, and got to work cutting limbs and pruning.

A month passed, our due date approached, relatives came into town, I moved into the hospital with Kara, and we began wait to meet our little girl face to face. I was excited about the birth of my daughter, Kara being able to come home, and that the weather was turning! It meant I would be able to wear the new cardigan Kara gave me as a “push present” in our going home pictures. After a few days in NICU, we were released to come home and we arrived safe and sound with a new baby girl! Unfortunately, the weather only turned cool and muggy, not cool enough to wear a cardigan. With the cool front came the rain. Lots of rain. It did not flood in our area, but just a few miles south of us there was flooding. According to reports we received approximately 17 inches of rain over five or so days.

They forgot monsoon season.

A week later, Kara and the girls went out for a doctor’s appointment and shopping trip. I was home alone for a few hours, cleaning up odds and ends, and tinkering. It had been drizzling all morning, but the rain was supposed to stop after lunch. I planned to work outside most of the afternoon, cleaning gutters and raking a few leaves. I was in the front of our house putting up folded clothes when I heard a loud crack and banging noise. The dogs went NUTS! At first I thought it was a garbage truck emptying the dumpsters at the school we live near (they are LOUD), then I realized it was Saturday. I immediately looked out the front windows, but didn’t see anything. I decided to go outside and look around from the backyard. (I have chain link fencing, so you can see quite a bit.) As I walked down the hall, I realized the sound I heard was one of my trees falling across mine and into two of my neighbor’s yards.

 

You know you this picture came to mind when you read the words Home Alone.

My jaw hit the floor when I walked outside, I checked to make sure there were no dogs (or people) trapped under it, and grabbed the phone to call my Dad and see what I needed to do first. (Did I mention this was my first home?) At my parent’s recommendation, I started called the insurance company and made a claim. When I got off the phone, I drove around to my neighbor’s house to see if they were home. They were, and we went in their backyard to look at the damage. All I could see were dollar signs, hospital bills, and damage, but my neighbor was pretty jovial about the whole thing. As a matter of fact, both of them were. (They’ve been around.) They were cracking jokes about their expensive zero turn mowers being under the tree, my tree knocking limbs off their highly valued trees, and other remarks. Both told me not to worry about it, that no one could have known the tree would fall, and that we would see what insurance would do about it and divvy up costs. I have learned quite a bit about insurance since that afternoon, and am still not quite sure that it’s not one big Ponzi scheme. I say that even after dealing with a great and courteous adjuster who explained to me how insurance liability works.

For those of you in the know, insurance doesn’t cover damage to others’ property unless you’re negligent, which I wasn’t. Also, the damage estimates weren’t more than the deductible, so we pay out of pocket for repairs. That meant I had to call my neighbors and tell them that insurance wouldn’t cover their property repairs. Both were excellent about the matter (as I said, this wasn’t their first rodeo) and told me that they knew I had a new kiddo, an extended hospital stay, and that we could split the cost of fixing the fence three ways. One neighbor told me he wanted to be neighborly. Dealing with the hospital bills and everything else, I cannot tell you the relief I felt at that. Will I still cover as much of the cost as possible?  Yes.

The Great Tree Debacle of 2015

Laugh at my naivety, but I have a hard time understanding how I’m not liable for their damage when it’s my property that caused it. I asked the insurance adjuster about the ethical premise for this, but he wasn’t a philosopher, so he declined to answer. (I realize that I think differently than most of the people I interact with.) Most people say, “I don’t know if it’s right, but that’s how the insurance system works,” as I discuss this event with others. I spoke with an unnamed party the other day who told me they agree with the insurance companies, and that if their tree fell on their neighbor’s house, they would go over and say, “No hard feelings, but my insurance covers my property and yours should cover yours.” I replied, “Not only do I have to look myself in the eye as I brush my teeth every morning, but I have to look across the fence at these guys as long as I live there. I cannot feel that I did them wrong, no matter what anyone else thinks.”

Philosophy and ethics aside, I do know one thing from all of this: I have learned what it means to be neighborly. Both of my neighbors could be angry about this event. They could accuse me of negligence, badger me about the cost, whatever. Instead, they’re staying friendly, even as the tree service can’t work due to the weather, the fencing contractor can’t start until the tree is gone, and we all have to keep our dogs under watch so they don’t cross fences. Everyone is making a little extra effort, and I’ve done nothing to deserve it!

The Parable of the Good Samaritan

Just then an expert in the law stood up to test Him, saying, “Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life? ”

“What is written in the law? ” He asked him. “How do you read it? ”

He answered:

Love theLord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.

“You’ve answered correctly,” He told him. “Do this and you will live.”

But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor? ”

Jesus took up the question and said: “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho and fell into the hands of robbers. They stripped him, beat him up, and fled, leaving him half dead. A priest happened to be going down that road. When he saw him, he passed by on the other side. In the same way, a Levite, when he arrived at the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a •Samaritan on his journey came up to him, and when he saw the man, he had compassion. He went over to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on olive oil and wine. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. The next day he took out two •denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, ‘Take care of him. When I come back I’ll reimburse you for whatever extra you spend.’

“Which of these three do you think proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers? ”

“The one who showed mercy to him,” he said.

Then Jesus told him, “Go and do the same.”

As I live through the Tree Debacle of 2015, the world seems to be in turmoil. We’re all neighbors today. What if all the Christian churches in the U.S. who have an empty parsonage or home stepped up and took 1 refugee family each? Appropriate security checks could be made, boundaries set, and they could provide for the families for a limited time, help the men/parents find jobs, education for the kiddos, and integrate them into their towns and American culture. I’m no mathematician, but I would think there would be enough places to take in 10,000 refugees (and even more in the coming years). I believe America has over 200,000 Christian churches.

I've never been a refugee, but I can only imagine that I would be a lot more open to assimilating into a new country's culture and customs (much less hearing about a foreign religion) if I were greeted, cared for, and helped to support my family by the average citizens of the country. I'm not saying it would be easy, and I'm not saying it wouldn't come with challenges (cultural gaps, security checks, etc…), but in lieu of a) creating more government dependents and b) isolating groups of refugees in large urban areas where they'll be isolated and disoriented, and ripe for the picking of extremists and scam artists, let’s welcome them and help them become Americans! I felt lost enough in a foreign country where English was prevalent and I was with friends; I couldn't imagine the disorientation and fear of having lost all home connections and being in a new society where I was viewed with constant suspicion. It can be done, and has been done before; see this article in WORLD magazine.

While there is a valid point that we could be letting in enemy combatants among the refugees, ISIS already has followers here and is constantly recruiting from American citizens. They brag daily that they have operatives here! The vast majority of the refugees are running from war, not to it! Let's step up to the plate, get over our fear, recognize the dignity of fellow human beings, provide and care for the oppressed, and let the governments and military appointed by God to dispense justice do their jobs! Think about the impact being neighborly would have on our states, our nation, and the globe!

Phenomenal

Proof that I finished!

Now that I’m finished with grad school (at least for the moment), I have been enjoying the newly discovered free time by filling it with activities: projects around the house; taking Kate into the great outdoors for hiking and swimming; playing games; grilling out;  and attending social events not involved with school or work (although I do enjoy those). Kara and I have a little tradition of spending time together each night and watching a series together. Over the course of our marriage, we’ve watched several: The Office, Lost, 30 Rock, Sherlock, and probably a few others I can’t remember at the moment. At the recommendation of some family members, we began watching Parks &Recreation. 

#knopeforpresident

Our initial reaction was a hearty, “It’s okay…” and we almost stopped. However, we were told that it improved with each season, so we’ve persevered and just began season 3. While the humor is very simple (yet dry and funny), I find myself laughing more and more as the characters develop and the plot moves forward. They’ve recently added Chris Traeger (Rob Lowe), a state auditor who is ordered to Pawnee with his co-worker Ben Wyatt (Scott Adams) to help slash budgets so the city can stay afloat. Traeger is an interesting character who seems to be an intensely positive health freak and workaholic at first, but as his relationship with Ann develops, we discover that he views everything as “phenomenal” because he was born with a blood disorder and wasn’t supposed to live more than a few weeks. So, in his eyes, each week is a gift that is to be lived to the fullest. Interestingly enough, we watched this episode after having a small crisis when Alisa (our unborn baby girl) became really still (she’s normally an active kiddo) and almost booked it to the ER.

My dog Pete's reaction when we told him we were having a baby.

As most of you know from my wife’s posts, we’ve had a whirlwind adventure with our new baby girl. The surprise and joy of discovering a new member of our family, the excitement of the initial tests and OB visits, the shock of discovering she will be born with Down Syndrome, the renewal of joy as supporters rallied around us and our little ones, dreaming and praying as we  feel and see Alisa play and grow in the womb, the cold fear of learning that her life was in danger due to blood flow issues in the placenta. As we drove into Dallas that morning, Kara’s suitcase in the backseat, there was little conversation between us. My mind was full of questions and thoughts about taking care of Kate, keeping my job afloat, house chores, how weird it would be to sleep alone for the next few months, and even the possibility that my child could possibly be stillborn. (It’s pessimistic and morbid, but I actually had a dream that I was planning her funeral a few days before.) I also thought about things no parent wants to consider. “Where would she be buried?” “What Bible passage would I preach through for the sermon?” “What songs would we sing?” “How would we tell Kate?” (Thankfully I know there is an age of accountability, and that we would meet Alisa in Heaven one day.) Traffic was normal, and I dropped Kara off at the entrance to the Landry Center a few minutes before 9. I squeezed between two cars and strolled into the building, entered the elevator, and went up to the doctor’s office. The nurse called for Kara, and we were escorted to the ultrasound room. Our first doctor came in to check Alisa’s heart, and had good news: the hole was smaller and blood flow looked better. Good news! We thanked her and were escorted to another room for the next appointment.

We laughed and rejoiced as we waited on our next doctor to enter. He is a great guy, but a very quiet man. That, combined with the soft hum of the machinery in the room and my hearing problems, means that I have to really concentrate to hear him. I closely watched as he sat down and begins running the ultrasound. It is not long before the screen goes from a charcoal blank to a chaos of shadows and light, revealing Alisa’s bone structure, shape, face, and even internal organs. He spent several minutes focused on Alisa’s heart while he talked. I literally sat there and watched my baby’s heart as it beat, constricting and relaxing, valves opening and closing, and thought, “This is the most awesome thing I have ever seen. I won’t even be able to see her heart beat after she’s born, and I’m watching her life flow while she’s in the womb!” (If you haven’t figured it out by now, I am awestruck by technology, and very thankful for it.) I kept watching her heartbeat, the valves fluttering open and closed, in awe as I thought about the driving force and strength behind that heartbeat, as well as the fragility of it at the same time. I even thought that, had I slightly known all the work of bringing a new life into the world when I was younger, I would have had a lot more sympathy on the cows and calves I helped through birth!

That day, our doctor delivered the encouraging news that Alisa’s umbilical cord blood flow looked better. Relief flooded through us both as we learned that Kara would not be admitted for observation and Alisa would not be born 11 weeks early. (But we would be admitted a week later! More posts to come!) Right there, sitting in the semi-darkness of an ultrasound room, watching the tiny little heart beat on the screen, I realized anew that life is so precious, so beautiful, so strong, and it is to be cherished above all things. Instead of spending my time worrying and planning, maybe I should spend more time living.

Life is a gift. You might even say that it is a phenomenal gift. Enjoy it!