The last few weeks have been pretty interesting. Heici and I took the kids out to the cabin for a few days last week so as to attend a wedding of a relative of mine who happened to be a college roommate of Heidi's. The boys (Chris and Jim) stayed to work Friday then came up together and met us for the weekend. The big girls were great at the cabin, as they were earlier this summer. They tried like heck to find toads, which it seems have become sparse, likely due to the cold nights. The babies were mostly good as well, although both Matthew and Mia picked a night in which to prove difficult sleepers away from the comfort of their own homes and beds. The wedding was a good time, short, on account of my having a race at 7 am the next morning, but good nonetheless. Which brings up the hotly anticipated half-marathon. Mia was a cranky sleeper the night before, and God Bless him Chris did his darndest to deal wtih her, but she just wasn't having it. So at roughly 2:10am after nearly 2.5 hours of sleeplessness I took her from him and pu her to bed in the pack-n-play in Gran and Lucky's closet, set up the monitor, shut the doors and went to bed. Lo and Behold it worked!!! She slept until 7:30 the next morning. At which time I was already a good 30 minutes into my 1.75 hours of tortue! It was good. Humbling. Difficult. But good. I ran a time right around what I had aimed for, but was a little disappointed in my racing efforts. It seems that "don't go out too fast" doesn't merely apply to the first mile or two, but to the entire first half of the race. I went out plenty slow, and I know this because the crowd allowed for little more than a jog silmilar to that of an attempt to run through a busy mall on, say, tax free day. But around mile 3 or so it seems I kicked it in, which I realized at about 5.5 and paid for a little after 7. Let's not forget to mention that just after 7 was also the 1 mile plus long hill. O Torture. After I reached the peak I began walking at the water stations, and occasionally at the end of the four or five remaining grueling hills. But I finished, and I'm proud of it.
As a good portion of you have heard I finished that 13.1 mile atrocity a few days over 10 weeks pregnant. Without drawing it out, we found out today the pregnancy is over. We're doing alright. It's suprisingly simple for me, given the powerlessness and reality that I am experiencing. I did a darn good job for the first few hours. Chris is a saint, and has been taking care of the girls all afternoon. Home alone I realized I was unable to sit, and the cramping was debilitating either way so I chose to mow the lawn, mostly to have something to do. So I plugged in my iPod, picked the best (and consequently only) Christian Rock music I owned and cried my way through a few laps around my house. After that I was in pretty good shape, and oddly can find nothing in my soul that does not scream praises to God. In a time when I would expect myself to mourn, to question, to be furious with God for taking this child the only words I can find are those of awe and wonder. It would seem that for as tiny as this little person was in its last earthly moments, even then God had bigger plans for it than I could ever provide. And I can't help but to thank Him for loving my baby so much that He would draw him near so as to give it what God had planned for it, not what I had planned for it.
For I will walk by faith
Even when I cannot see
Because this broken road
Prepares your will for me
Well I'm Broken-But I still see your face
Well you've spoken-pouring your words of grace
-Jeremy Camp
Amen
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