Since reading Ann Voskamp’s book One Thousand Gifts earlier this year, I’ve tried to be more intentional about incorporating gratitude into my day.  I’ve mentioned keeping a journal in which I record at least five things I’m thankful for each morning.  This practice has caused me to focus on what we tend to think of as “little” gifts, the small moments that so quickly pass us by if we’re not watching for them.

There are the physical blessings of good health, the financial provision that meets our needs and allows us to give to others, the blessings of family and friends, and the spiritual blessings, beginning with salvation and expanding to so much more.

I’m finding that making gratitude a daily practice gives me a proper perspective and helps me spend time meditating on answered prayer.

I want to continue this “journaling thankfulness” next year.  This diary of God’s constant and continuing goodness in our lives causes me to look for the good for which I can be thankful.  I’m ashamed to say that there are mornings when it takes longer than it should for me to think of five things to write down.  In that case, I know I need to re-focus my mind and count my blessings.

Beyond cultivating my own grateful spirit, I want to help our children learn to be thankful. Rehearsing God’s blessings aloud and often – and in every situation – seems to be a good place to start.  Moving it from words that we speak in praise to God and down into their hearts to produce a thankful spirit is something for which I really want to strive.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and your loved ones!  With Paul, in Philippians 1:3, I can say, “I thank my God upon every remembrance of you.”

For all of us, may this season of giving thanks last well past a day and into the weeks and months to come!

A few nights ago I was talking with one of my daughters who was worried about going to the dentist the following afternoon.  She was afraid she might have a cavity, which could lead to having a tooth pulled.  I explained that what she was fearing might not even happen.  I reminded her of Philippians 4:6, which says, “Be careful [full of care] for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God.”

How ironic it was, then, that the very next day I found myself worked up about some decisions we’ll need to make in the coming weeks and months.  I was stressing about possible scenarios and outcomes that might play out in those situations.

Then it hit me – how dare I counsel my daughter about her worries and then become mired in my own?!  Just as with her circumstance, some of the things I was worrying about may not even take place.

I was convicted; the answer to my worry is prayer, making my concerns known to God and then leaving them with Him.

This was not a one-time conversation for her or for me.  I know that both of us will be tempted to worry again, but with God’s help, we can remember to take every care to Him.  As I Peter 5:7 reminds us, we can cast all our cares upon Him, because He cares for us.

“Worrying is carrying tomorrow’s load with today’s strength- carrying two days at once. It is moving into tomorrow ahead of time. Worrying doesn’t empty tomorrow of its sorrow, it empties today of its strength.” ~Corrie Ten Boom

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Mark 4 gives us the parable of the sower and the seed.  In verses 18 and 19, we read the meaning of what happens to the seed that fell among the thorns.  “And these are they which are sown among thorns; such as hear the word, And the cares of this world, and the deceitfulness of riches, and the lusts of other things entering in, choke the word, and it becometh unfruitful.”

Does this describe me?  I’m afraid that it feels that way sometimes.  When the Word of God is not producing fruit in my life, it’s often because I’m allowing it to be choked out.

Here’s what the verse says chokes out the seed of God’s Word.

1.  The cares of the world.  There are many of these in our lives, aren’t there?  This can be the day-to-day tasks that we must accomplish – the cooking, cleaning, errands, homeschooling – all good and necessary, but not to the detriment of reading and meditating on the Bible.  We could also include bigger cares – stresses and worries that we can’t control, but that we allow to take over our thoughts and minds.

2.  Deceitfulness of riches.  This reminds me of materialism.  When our focus is on making money or accumulating possessions, we can ignore the necessity of grounding ourselves in God’s Word.  If we think that being rich or buying what we want will make us happy, we are deceived.  However, it’s easy to get caught up in work and achieving success and allow our spiritual life to suffer.

3.  Lusts of other things.  Certain accomplishments for ourselves or our children, sports, hobbies, physical fitness – the list of things that can distract us from God’s Word can be quite long.  These are things that may not be wrong unless we allow them to choke out God’s Word in our lives.

I struggle with all of the above at times, and I need to yield to the Holy Spirit and ask for His help in rooting out the thorns so that the seed of His Word can produce fruit in my life.

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“And if any man say ought unto you, ye shall say, The Lord hath need of them; and straightway he will send them.” ~Matthew 21:3

I’m guessing it’s not my donkey that the Lord needs.

As Matthew 21 begins, Jesus sends two of His disciples into a nearby village to locate a donkey and its colt and bring them back to Him.  If they’re questioned about taking the animals, their answer is to be that the Lord needs them.

What might I have that the Lord needs?  Admittedly, the God of the universe doesn’t “need” anything from me, but there are things I have that He can use if I will let Him.

Maybe He requires my service in a particular ministry, either at church or in the community. Could it be extra time reading my Bible, more moments of just being still before Him?  Perhaps it’s a talent I have that I’ve not been using.  Could it be releasing my expectations for what life holds for my children?  Or is it a possession or habit that I’m unwilling to give up?  Only His Holy Spirit can reveal what God wants from me.

The second question I have to ask myself is whether or not I willingly give it up.  It says that the man with the donkey will straightway – as in immediately – send it.  If I have something God can use, may I offer it to Him without a fight.

Ultimately, the donkey was used to glorify Christ as He rode the animal into Jerusalem before the multitudes who were crying “Hosanna.”  So, if I will let God use all of me, it will bring glory to Him.

It was over.

My parents had returned to Virginia, my husband had gone back to work, and I was at home alone for one of the first times since I’d given birth to Angel.  I got out my Bible for devotions.  I had started reading through the Bible recently and found myself in Exodus that morning. Chapter 23 began with verses full of instructions to the Hebrews on how to structure their lives.  Then, in a most unexpected place, I found richness for my soul.

Verse 20:  Behold, I send an Angel before thee, to keep thee in the way, and to bring thee into the place which I have prepared.  

I read it again and again.  And as clearly as if someone had spoken the words aloud, thoughts flooded my mind.  God had sent our Angel to us.  And while I may not know every reason why, the rest of the verse convinced me that it was for our good.  The trial we had endured truly brought us to places spiritually – as well as relationally as husband and wife – that I believe we never would have reached if not for our Angel. The memory of God’s working through every detail of Angel’s diagnosis, pregnancy, and birth would continue to comfort, encourage, and inspire us for the rest of our lives.    

Then I thought about how, when that verse was penned by Moses thousands of years ago, surely my God, who knows all, knew that on that December day in 1997, His words would speak to me.  And while they were written directly to those people for their day, so I truly believe that He wrote them for me.  He knew what encouragement they would bring to my hurting heart.  The tears rolled down my face that morning as I thought of God’s love and compassion and caring for me.  Eventually I called my husband and shared this precious verse.  We later had the reference engraved on Angel’s tombstone.

As for what happened after that?  I got a permanent job at the hospital where I’d been working temporarily.  I was blessed with wonderful coworkers and a great boss.  My husband and I struggled with infertility for almost two years.  After a couple of tests, I was told by a doctor that my chances of having a baby were about half that of a normal woman.  Within a few months of that doctor’s appointment, I found out that I was expecting a child.  

I was treated as a high risk pregnancy and I tried not to get too excited during those first 12 weeks.  Anencephaly can be detected by ultrasound around 12 weeks, so that was our first hurdle to clear.  Once we found out that this baby appeared to be developing normally, I finally began to hope.  I remember being 8 months pregnant, sitting in a rocking chair in the back bedroom that we had painted and fixed up as a nursery, and wondering if it would really come true – that I’d bring home a baby this time.

After a textbook labor and delivery, our now 12-year-old daughter was born on December 1, 2000.  Amazingly, when she was just seven months old, I found out I was pregnant again, but miscarried about seven weeks into the pregnancy.  I was so stunned to be pregnant that we’d hardly even told anyone about it.  

Then in March of 2002, we were excited to find out that another baby was on the way.  An ultrasound near the end of that pregnancy gave me a scare when they determined that I had an excessive amount of amniotic fluid. At a week past my due date, I was induced.  After being in labor all day, they determined that the baby was too large for a natural delivery, so she was delivered by C-section – weighing in at a healthy 9 pounds 1 ounce.

I wanted to include a quick update on a couple of people I’ve mentioned in this series.

Debbie, who did the initial ultrasound that revealed our baby’s diagnosis, conducted all of the ultrasounds on our other babies as well.  She also performed the ultrasound after my miscarriage, which was done to ensure that nature had taken its course.  That ultrasound was scheduled for the morning of September 11, 2001.  It was while we were in the waiting room that the first tower of the World Trade Center was hit, and she was the one who first clued us in to what was going on.

Sandy, our labor and delivery nurse, was another of God’s blessings in our lives.  After nearly sixteen years, we continue to send Christmas cards to each other every year.

While many lasting lessons were learned during those five months, the two greatest ones are these.

God’s grace is sufficient.  

God is always good. His goodness is not based on our circumstances; it’s part of who He is.

Thank you for taking this journey with me over the past seven weeks.  I so appreciate the encouraging words many of you have shared with me and I’m grateful to have recorded these memories.  It’s been a sweet time of remembering how God has worked in our lives and how blessed we are to have a God whose goodness and grace are never ending.

[Find previous posts in this series here.]

Around 5:00 A.M. on Tuesday, December 9, 1997, it was time for our baby to arrive.  I was in a lot of pain – and wanted more pain medicine!  All I could think was that nothing they put in the IV was going to harm my baby, so I wondered why they couldn’t just give me relief.

All through these hours in the hospital, I’d been hooked up to a fetal monitor which tracked our baby’s heartbeat.  We could hear that thump-thump echoing in the hospital room.  When it came time to push, however, the nurse removed the monitor.  I didn’t understand why then, but I would later.

Within ten minutes, I delivered a precious baby girl with no heartbeat.  Sometime during her trip through the birth canal, her bright, brave, eternal soul was taken by her Heavenly Father to be at home with Him.  The doctor handed her to the nurse, who cleaned her, wrapped her in a blanket, and put a small knit cap on her head.

Weeks before I had told my mom that I didn’t want to hold the baby.  I didn’t want to bond, as I felt that would just make this difficult situation even harder.  However, my mom gently advised me to reconsider that decision. 

After I delivered, the doctor got my parents from the waiting room.  The nurse brought me our baby and I held her.  She was two and a half pounds, and from the neck down, she was perfectly beautiful.  Every finger and toe was tiny, but perfectly formed.  Even her little face was precious, the only obvious defect her nose, which hadn’t formed the middle separation.  The top of her head was encased by the knit cap to cover its deformity.

We all held her and kissed her soft little cheek.  I was a mama now, my husband a daddy, my parents were grandparents.

I hadn’t realized before that it’s more common for anencephalic babies to be girls.  Once they took the baby away, we had to decide on a name for her.  From out of nowhere, my mind recalled the notes and cards my maternal grandmother had sent during this pregnancy and how she always referred to the baby as our “angel.”  I asked my husband what he thought of naming her Angel and we decided it was perfect.  I don’t know where “Marie” came from, but that was her middle name.

I recovered from the labor fairly quickly.  We had decided on a very private graveside service. The cemetery we had chosen was beautiful – full of oak trees with a view of the river.  (That’s it in the picture at the top of this post.)  Our pastor and his wife, the school administrator and his wife (friends of many years), and my parents were there.  Sandy, our labor and delivery nurse, had asked if she could come, and I was touched that she took the time to attend.

Our pastor spoke a few words and we asked my dad, also a pastor, if he would read two verses from the hymn All the Way My Savior Leads Me by Fanny Crosby.

All the way my Savior leads me;
What have I to ask beside?
Can I doubt His tender mercy,
Who through life has been my Guide?
Heav’nly peace, divinest comfort,
Here by faith in Him to dwell!
For I know, whate’er befall me,
Jesus doeth all things well;
For I know, whate’er befall me,
Jesus doeth all things well.


In spite of the trial we had just come through, we were trusting that God had a purpose and a plan.

There’s a bit more to the story, and I’ll conclude it next Monday.

“He [God] is always doing something–the very best thing, the thing we ourselves would certainly choose if we knew the end from the beginning. He is at work to bring us to our full glory.” ~Elisabeth Elliot

What are you struggling with today?  We all have trials; some of them we think we can handle, some seem just too overwhelming.  Often our hearts are heavy or we waver in indecision or we have a need that must be met. 

I can’t see what God is doing.  I don’t know the end from the beginning.  But what’s exciting about that is that I can exercise my faith and trust in God through those situations.  If it was always easy, if I always knew what to do, if I could meet my own needs, I wouldn’t need Him.

And ultimately, isn’t that what He wants – for me to recognize my lack and His sufficiency?  God is working, always, and always for my best and His glory.

[To catch up on our story, read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4.]

Medical tests run during our middle-of-the-night trip to the Emergency Room revealed that I had kidney stones.  Thankfully I was only hospitalized briefly and, after receiving pain medication, was as good as new.  [In the opinion of someone who’s given birth three times, kidney stones are definitely more painful than labor!]

As the pregnancy progressed, I continued working at the hospital, my only discomforts the normal ones associated with a growing belly. Our baby was due near the end of January, so we had to begin making a few plans, such as choosing a grave site. This process sparked one of my few bouts of discouragement as I realized that most of our friends were choosing nursery themes and registering for baby gifts while we were visiting cemeteries.

We still didn’t know the gender of our baby, but we had to begin thinking of names.  Before we received our baby’s diagnosis, we had discussed Kaylee for a girl and Alex for a boy.  We occasionally revisited the subject, but it was difficult to settle on anything. 

At one of my prenatal visits, my doctor discussed what might happen at our baby’s birth.  I was told that often a mother who was carrying an anencephalic baby did not start labor on her own.  Because the baby’s brain was not fully developed, it didn’t release the hormones needed to begin the birth process, so the mother had to be induced when she went past full term. 

He also said our baby could be stillborn or could live from a few hours to a few days, but chances were rare that it would be longer than that.  He tried his best to prepare us for what was truly the unknown.

December 8, 1997, was a Monday.  I woke up and got ready for work but realized that I just didn’t feel normal.  I wasn’t in pain and can’t explain exactly how I felt except that something wasn’t right.  I called the doctor’s office and made an appointment for that morning, then called a co-worker to let her know I’d be coming in late.  I picked up my husband at work and drove to the doctor’s office.

We discovered that, at thirty-three weeks along, I was in the early stages of labor.  This possibility wasn’t one I had considered.  The doctor wanted to admit me to the hospital so that he could monitor my progress.  I wasn’t ready in any sense of the word. 

I dropped my husband off at the school so he could gather some things and meet me back at home.  Meanwhile, I went to a nearby T.J.Maxx to buy decent sleepwear!  By now, contractions had started and they were pretty strong as I waited in line to check out. 

At home I packed a bag, then we dropped our dog off at the kennel before heading to the hospital.  I also called my parents in Virginia and they prepared to come as quickly as they could. It was hard to believe the time had come to meet our baby. Again, God’s goodness was evident. In His plan, He knew how much of the pregnancy I could handle and was allowing it to end earlier than we had expected.

At this point, another one of those amazing people entered our life.  Sandy was my labor and delivery nurse.  She  was caring and compassionate and did everything she could to make sure I was comfortable and to meet every need..

I was progressing fairly slowly, so that evening I was given medication to speed the process along a bit – and an epidural for the pain.  My parents arrived late that night and I was actually comfortable enough to sit and talk with them for awhile.  As the early morning hours arrived, however, that all changed.

To be continued next Monday….

I know that if I want to become more like Christ, I need to spend time with Him.

For me, that means daily devotions. 

Depending on my season of life, this has taken different forms for me. There was the working full-time season, the newborn baby season, the get-the-kids-off-to-school season. Since I’m a morning person, however, I’ve typically had to plan my quiet time for the beginning of the day, no matter what format I use. 

Today I thought I’d share a few details of how I currently schedule these moments.  It’s not the only way or even the best way, but it’s the method I’m currently using as I seek to grow in my Christian walk.

What:  I bring my Bible, a hymn book, and a small, 3-subject wire bound notebook.  In the notebook I have a section for prayer requests, one for my list of 1,000 gifts (which is now at 1,195!), and one for jotting down what I learn from the Scripture passage I read each day.

Where:  The couch in our living room, which is deserted this early in the day

When:  On weekdays, I typically start between 5:45 and 6:00 A.M. and spend 25-30 minutes

How:  I begin with prayer, read a hymn, write down three to five “gifts,” read a passage from the Bible, and practice my current memory passage.

Again, this is what works for me right now.  I still struggle with fitting this in on Saturdays as we typically sleep in a little bit and I have less of a routine.

I’ve used different methods for studying the Bible.  I’ve read through a devotional book, used a concordance to study a particular topic, chosen one book of the Bible to read through for a month, and examined specific characters from the Old Testament or New Testament. 

Are you able to find time to spend with God each day?  How do you like to study the Bible?  If there’s a particular tool or book that’s been an encouragement to you in this area, please let me know!

[Find previous posts in this series here:  Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3.]

After taking three days to adjust to the news of our unborn baby’s neural tube defect, my husband and I resumed our normal routines. 

My husband returned to his job as the elementary principal at a Christian school and I went back to work at the hospital.  I remember a co-worker, Beth, pulling me into an empty conference room and telling me that, as a fellow Christian, she was so thankful for our choice to carry this baby to term.  She encouraged me to allow this trial to be a testimony of God’s grace that could impact others in our office.

My husband and I each developed our own responses to people who inquired about our baby.  Strangers would ask “Are you having a boy or a girl?” or “When are you due?”  Often I would just answer their question, as in “We’re not going to find out the gender” or “We’re due at the end of January.”  Then they would typically make a few more comments and I would try to move along. It was rare that I shared our baby’s total story. 

One day I was sitting out on the patio at work, eating my lunch, when two sweet older ladies at the next table began quizzing me about my pregnancy.  I answered their questions honestly, but I didn’t want to make them feel badly by telling them that our baby was going to die.  That was often the case during those months, as I knew most people were simply being friendly and wouldn’t know how to respond if I talked about our baby’s diagnosis.

My husband, though, would often tell people what was happening with our baby.  He was comfortable being straightforward and sharing the story.  Those who already knew about our baby’s difficulty didn’t typically bring it up in conversation. 

I still had to continue my prenatal visits at least once a month.  As I’ve mentioned before, there couldn’t have been a better doctor to guide us through this.  I have no doubt that he was another instrument of God’s grace and goodness.  He instructed his staff to give me the first appointment in the morning or the first one after lunch so that I didn’t have to spend time in the waiting room with other expectant mothers.  He was a gentle, comforting presence throughout my pregnancy.

One of the few moments from that time period that is still crystal clear in my mind came a few weeks after the diagnosis.  I was sitting in traffic on the interstate on my way home from work.  I felt something in my stomach, just a little flutter.  I realized that I had been experiencing that same feeling over the past few days and then it hit me – our baby was moving inside me.  This baby that couldn’t live outside of me was alive and those tiny feet and hands were pushing against my womb.  This baby was real, not just a picture on an ultrasound screen.  Those fluttery feelings were only the beginning, as the baby became very active as the days went by.

One night in October, I woke up in terrible pain.  I shifted positions in bed, wondering if this could be labor, but knowing that I shouldn’t be delivering for several more months.  I finally decided to wake up my husband and the pain become bad enough that we headed to the hospital.

To be continued next Monday….