words

it seems silly, trite almost, that at the end of a life, all we have are words - apparently useless words - when what we want is to have that life back, to hold that life, to feel that life. 

i learned, via facebook, of the passing of a friend of a friend, a dear believer of the Lord, after battling an aggressive cancer for about a year. you can read her story here.

to be honest, i did not know her very much, only as an acquaintance at best. but as i read her own account of her illness and treatments, i uttered to my husband, "life's not fair. why would the Lord allow the wicked to prosper while one of His own suffers?" (aside: i think, this must be the question of all those out there whose faith have been shaken, or all those out there who cannot quite let themselves believe in a God who permits such things. such seeming injustices. such suffering. i still grapple with this one.)

i wept for her - for someone i barely know. i wept for her husband. i wept for her mother. for her sister. i wept because i long to have the kind of faith that she had - to love the Lord and hope in the Lord even in the midst of intense, unimaginable suffering. i wept because i do not have this faith. i wept because through her, i had a fresh longing and prayer to the Lord that my life would be lived to love Him.  and i wept simply because sometimes words are not enough. in the space between words, there were tears. tears of sorrow, tears of repentance, tears of longing. 

so tonight, while i nursed alexander, i sang him this dear believer's favorite hymn, offering it up to the Lord as a remembrance of her, and more as a prayer for myself and for my son. 

there are no words to adequately end this post so i will conclude by leaving you with the lyrics of her favorite hymn. 

Lord You love me so immensely;

I would love You more intensely.

Every day and every moment,

O Lord, capture me.

Let my goal and my life's theme be,

Lord, to love You more supremely;

With all my heart, Lord Jesus,

Keep me faithful unto Thee.

Draw me, Lord, each day.

Take my veils away.

With a pure heart will I see You;

Lord I just love You.

Nothing else I seek;

No one else for me.

I would fully and absolutely

Give my whole being unto Thee.

early morning serenity and learning to be a mother

lately i have had trouble sleeping - a common side effect of being nine months pregnant. without fail, i wake up at four thirty a.m. to make yet another trip to the bathroom. and without fail, after i have resettled into bed, not without much effort and grimacing, blissful sleep always eludes me. in its place has crept dark anxieties concerning things over which i have no control.

what if i have to get a c-section? because i really do not want a c-section. what if something happens to me during labor? what if something happens to husband on his way to work? on his way home from work? what if something is wrong with baby? what if baby is born in distress with the umbilical cord choking him? what if he gets the worst personality traits of both me and husband? what if he eventually manifests autism? what if, what if, what if...

this morning, my mind was playing a particularly cruel game of "what if" with me when i remembered something from the very early days of my pregnancy. almost as soon as that pee stick indicated i was pregnant, i began to be fiercely protective of the life growing inside of me. while still sitting on the toilet, pregnancy test in hand, i remember thinking, "Lord, please do not let anything happen to my baby." a few nights later, i came upon Psalm 139 in my nightly Bible reading.

"For it was You who formed my inward parts; You wove me together in my mother's womb.

I will praise You, for I am awesomely and wonderfully made; Your works are wonderful, And my soul knows it well.

My frame was not hidden from You When I was made in secret, Skillfully fashioned in the depths of the earth.

Your eyes saw my unformed substance; And in Your book all of them were written: The days that were ordained for me, When not one of them was yet."

it occurred to me then, and i was reminded again during this anxiety filled morning, that my days, AND all my baby's days have already been ordained. when you actually stop to think about what this means, it is quite awe-inspiring. ALL of my baby's days have already been measured out and ordained.

The Lord reminded me this morning with that soft, familiar, loving voice "yes Grace, I have ordained all of your baby's days. All the good things and the not so good things. can you accept all that I have ordained for your child?"

it struck me then as it did today, that despite feeling intensely about my baby  - intense about preventing suffering, and intensely hoping only good things for him, there is One who is in control, who lovingly formed my son within me, One whose works are wonderful. so when these verses and words found me again, i found some early morning serenity and with a heavy, but genuine and trusting heart, prayed, "Lord grant me the grace to accept all that You have ordained, including the suffering, including the not so great things." and somehow, though all those "what ifs" still exist, and they could still happen, i was a little less anxious. not because suddenly trusting in the Lord will change any outcomes and bestow upon my son and my family a life without suffering, a life without pain, and a life without sorrow. but because the lives of this Carlson family - each one, has been measured and ordained by the very God of this universe. it is peaceful to know and accept that we are not in control (despite our best efforts at times). 

loved.

i was perusing the news the other day, trying to catch up on everything going on around the world; people fighting and massacred in syria, a new special advisor appointed in north korea, not enough economic growth, exorbitantly high youth unemployment rates in europe, jeremy lin sent to houston out of spite, etc. you get the picture. objectively,  there is so much to worry about, to be anxious about - so much to fear in this world. so it's always nice to be reminded that despite life's great and small uncertainties, there is one thing that remains unshakeable.

this past weekend, yobel and i hosted a baby shower for our friend miriam. she is due in less than a month! as i was sifting through the pictures last night, it occured to me, this baby - baby thomas richard - is so loved. like crazy loved. he is so loved by his parents, so loved by his uncle who traveled all the way from new york just to surprise miriam at the shower and so loved by the grandparents who will soon converge on virginia. and because we love mark and miriam, we also love baby thomas. it's comforting to know, in the midst of such chaos, violence even, that for the next many many moons,  all the love will be a kind of anchor for the adkins as they journey into parenthood. afterall, our love is a mere shadow of the most secure, most unfathomable, most unconditional love of our dear LJ.

so for today, it's enough to know that they are loved. we are loved. and mostly, baby thomas is loved...loved in Him - the safest, calmest, sweetest place to be. and somehow, it suddenly becomes a little less scary to bring a baby into this world. because we are secure deep in this cocoon of our Savior's love, and in the love of all those who surround us.

and my favorite picture of the baby shower:


because anyone who does dishes in my house is always, ALWAYS, i repeat, ALWAYS welcome over.

note*: the cake is HOMEMADE - just not in my home! my ridiculously talented friend Grace Chung makes cakes in her "spare time" - after she graduated at the top of her west point class, after getting married, while raising two adorable girls, and attending dental school. i'm pretty convinced she secretly runs the world too.