Another week slipping by…
:: I need to get one of those ticker things for my pregnancy. Ryan says, “Why? Those are so…. cheesy.” (He forgets, I think, that I’m just a little weblog, and not one of the super-cool, design award-winning tech blogs.) “Well, I need it. For me. How else am I going to possibly remember how far along I am?” Please tell me that some of you have those tickers up for your own benefit, and not just for your readers.
:: Jameson jabbers more and more. Still not much English, but after Bronwyn’s long stint with customized German (that’s what we called it), I’m not too surprised. He’s very intentional about his jabber, I will say. If he rattles something off, and you say, “What?”, he’ll repeat the exact same jabber. Funny.
:: My tummy is growing, but I feel well enough that occasionally I forget I’m pregnant. And just at that moment, I’ll jump up off the couch and run to the kitchen and suddenly have those bizarre SPD pains that remind me: Oh yeah. Chill out, Danica. You’re pregnant.
:: My head and heart are expanding. (That’s always something I’m glad to have happen on any given week.) I’m thinking about: the Holy Spirit, the veracity of Scripture, further identifying my rich heritage of faith and confidence and relationship with Jesus, wanting to pass on those things, how many people are hurting in so many different ways, the answer to my life and theirs and everyone else’s being Jesus, wanting to be more disciplined about worship* in this season… Mostly, just having the Lord stir my heart to want more of Him. To long to see His glory cover the earth as the waters cover the sea. To want my life to carry part of that glory. To want the same for your life.
:: And this is kind of last week, but I’ll stick it here: Jameson’s nap and bedtime routines changed a week ago Monday. He no longer nurses to sleep. It seemed like the right time to make the change, and sure enough, he adjusted amazingly quickly. The best, best part of the change is having him cuddle on my lap while we rock in the chair from my mother-in-law. I read stories to him, and he actually sits through them. I sing songs to him, and he nestles his head deeper into my chest. He’s perfectly still, and it’s totally precious. That may seem like, “Yeah, and?”, to you, but you must understand: only a weaned child will sit with his mother for that long and not be demanding more. It makes me think of Psalm 131: “Surely I have composed and quieted my soul; Like a weaned child rests against his mother, my soul is like a weaned child within me.” That’s how I want to be with the Lord. Content to hear His heartbeat.
*By that I mean playing and singing for 10 minutes every day. Hymns, songs, whatever. Just play and sing and make it happen.