We all have a story.

Mine is encased in ambivalence. A story where beauty and ugliness mix up together and I can't say one way or the other, it is good or bad. Years ago I came "to terms with," "an understanding of," or whatever you to call it with my abandonment and abuse. A godly counselor was there to help. A wise husband walked with me. God's grace was evident on my life during a very painful season.

While I would say I am mostly "healed" I still struggle with things. What usually pops into my head is, "What's wrong with you? Why are you still dealing with this? And feeling this? And responding in such a sinful way?"

I've been trying to figure out why the healing is not complete and I have come to two quite simple conclusions:

Conclusion 1. I live in a sinful world and because of that I will not find heaven here.

I am not meant to find heaven here.

Sometimes I fear with all the godly counsel out there and very good and even scripturally sound, self-help books or retreat weekends or Bible studies, we are are trying to find a place here on earth where life doesn't hurt anymore.

Sorry. Not gonna happen.

I am part of all of us who are wounded
and as long as I walk this broken sod,
I am going to walk with a limp,
and if it hadn't been those things that caused my limp,
something else would have.

Conclusion 2. I believe in a literal, physical heaven removed from earth.

One day God will take back His children. One day I will be carried off to a place beyond my wildest imagination. One day I will stand, kneel, sit or fall prostrate before the throne of Jesus and for the first time GET, really GET, what He did for me when He allowed himself to be nailed to the cross. I cannot even speculate how I will feel. But I do know, my earthly eyes and my earthly thinking will be gone and I will finally GET it.

And I'm pretty sure that in my getting it, the words abandonment and abuse won't come to mind. "...for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away... He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." (Rev. 21:1,4)

It doesn't mean the things done here on earth shouldn't be dealt with. That we shouldn't seek help. That we shouldn't seek restoration for broken relationship. That those who wounded us shouldn't be called to repentance (and in some cases even held legally responsible). Or even that all the wounds inflicted on earth are "worth it."

It simply means as I struggle here on earth,
when wounds I thought were healed prickle and sting,
when the scab picks off a little to reveal hidden ugliness,
I look forward to a moment when it has passed away, is no more.

Simply no more. No death. No mourning. No crying. No pain.

Only Jesus. Only Jesus will be there.

Pistachio?

"Is that really her name?"

"What an awful nickname."

"Please tell me that you'll stop calling her that when she's born!"

"Where did that come from?"

Actually, it goes all the way back to when we found out we were expecting Daniel. We were at our dear friends' house (in Russia!) when we got confirmation (after several days of denial and four pregnancy tests) that I was indeed pregnant!

After the shock wore off slightly and the giddiness of what this all meant set in, Nadya grabbed a baby development book to work out my due date and see how big this little creature in my belly already was. We figured out that I was 19 days pregnant.

There was a picture in the book of an 18-day-old, in-utero baby. Patrick said, "Wow, it looks like a peanut!"

And so before he became Daniel, he was known as "Peanut."

We continued to call him Peanut throughout the pregnancy because:

- It took us forever to come up with a name. Actually, it took forever for God to show us what his name was supposed to be and not-surprisingly, both Patrick and I had the name Daniel in our head without ever discussing it.

- We decided not to tell anyone his name until he was born.

So, it's become a Wilson tradition to refer to our unborn children as a nut (or a legume).

Daniel was Peanut.

Caleb was Cashew.

Eli was Walnut.

And now, Pistachio is Pistachio.

We've continued to not share the names we are considering until we introduce our child to the world. It's fun having a secret.

I think we know what Pistachio's real name is supposed to be, but as with all our children, it's not something we've stressed over. We've never opened a baby name book. The only list of baby names we've looked at is the occasional suggestions we get from Patrick's mom. :-)

God knows our unborn child better than we do. He knit them together. He knows the personality they will have. The character issues they will struggle with. The ones that we as parents will have to help mold. What will significantly define our child to the world.

I think the naming of my children is important. Important enough to leave up to Him, the One who created my children in His image. I believe the name He gives us to call them is a small reflection of Himself.

Hopefully, we will introduce Pistachio to the world by her God-given name very, very, very soon...

Recently, a friend and I were discussing how uncomfortable it is for us when we start having our children learn a new Bible verse. She was in the middle of having her children learn Proverbs 25:28, "Like a city whose walls are broken down is a man who lacks self-control." Well, as God would have it, He started to reveal to her areas in her own life where she needed self-control. We had a good laugh at how when we start teaching our children something, God usually shows us where we need to learn it as well.

The current verse our boys are learning? Deuteronomy 5:15, "Honor your father and mother, as the Lord your God has commanded you, so that you may have long life and it may go well with you in the land the Lord your God has given you."

This is a nice theory until your husband's parent's house gets flooded out. You realize there is no way they have the strength and energy to clean up the mess themselves. You find out they don't have flood insurance to cover the expense of a big company coming in to do the clean up for them. This all occurs about six weeks before you are expecting baby #4 and it slowly dawns on you that there isn't a time frame on "honoring your father and mother." It doesn't say we are supposed to honor them as long as you live under their roof. You honor them as long as they continue to be your father and mother. And so if your father and mother need help cleaning up the mess from an epic flood, their children should be the first ones there to volunteer!

My first reaction is to say, "What?! Don't you have a brother that doesn't have children or a pregnant wife? Can't he do it?" (And in fairness, he probably will go help out.) I'm wondering how I am supposed to take care of my rambunctious three boys that need a daily dose of wrestling for possibly two weeks when I'm 34 weeks pregnant. What do I do if I go into early labor and Patrick isn't here?

Funny thing how God teaches us right along side our children. They get to see in action, us living out God's commands. We've been able to talk about how Daddy might be gone for awhile and it is because he is honoring Grandmama and Grandaddy. And they get it. They will be sad. They will miss him. I will miss him and how much he helps me with the boys. But while we are living out God's commands, I am looking forward to seeing God's promise.

That it may go well...

God's strength will be my strength. Our church family will be there with offers to watch the boys here and there. Patrick's parents, in their old age, will be blessed and honored and I think that is the most important thing of all.

I have a three-year-old I'm willing to give to a good home. Today, I just need to say that.

Patrick and I had the privilege of meeting a baby tonight who was born 10wks early. His mommy, a very good friend of mine, was only 30wks pregnant when her water broke. The nurses and doctors did what they could to stop labor, but little Josiah had decided he was going to be born regardless of what anyone did and so he showed up much earlier than anybody expected. Thankfully, he was born without a stressful birth and is doing as well as he can considering he should still be cooking inside mom.

This is the first time I have seen a baby in the NICU. I'm not sure anything can prepare you for seeing such a tiny person with so many tubes and wires coming out of them.

His parents can't hold him for at least a week as his skin and muscles are extremely sensitive. They could bruise him to the point of hemorrhage because his blood vessels are not strong enough for the pressure of a touch. He is able to get enough oxygen on his own, but he is still hooked up to an apparatus that "reminds" him to breath. He can't swallow so so his nutrients come from an IV. When the breathing apparatus is removed he'll have mom's breast milk through a feeding tube for his first month. His eyes have to be taped shut while he is getting light therapy for his jaundice because his retinas are not developed enough.

So many things that still have to grow, to develop and become complete. So many things that could still go wrong.

Yet, as I looked at him, all I could think was, "fearfully and wonderfully made." How perfectly God had put this child together. God gave him ten fingers, ten toes, a squishy nose and cherub lips. Already, his parents can see Josiah's fighting spirit as he pulls at the air tube and IV wires. His neonatal nurse calls him a "Wild Man" and says she can hear him screaming from down the hall, even when is incubator lid is closed! God knew all along that little Josiah would come into this world earlier than we deemed ready. But this is part of the story of Josiah's life. A story God has already written out. God has given him the best birthday, the best parents, the best beginning in His design.

May we treat each person we encounter, especially those in our own family, as one who God has fearfully and wonderfully made - regardless of the things we see that still need to grow, to develop and become complete. Or the things we see that could still go wrong. Let us always see them as perfectly created by God and the part they play in His story.

I'm going to blame it on the pregnancy! I never know when these random tears are going to pop out of my eyeballs. Well, today it happened driving down Hwy 86 toward Castle Rock to go grocery shopping at Sprouts.

The boys were in the back as usual, listening to their current, favorite CD set "The Singing Bible." And a completely silly, song sung by kids, for kids sent my emotions into overdrive. It's a song about Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego. It's peppy. It's fun. The boys and I love to sing along with it. But there is a part of the song that "gets me" emotionally every time I hear it but today my emotions got a little extreme and I actually started to cry. The lyrics go something like:

Oh, they were thrown in the fire
But Nebuchadnezzar saw they were not alarmed
'cause there were four men in the fire
Who was the fourth one?
Well, He looked like the son of God
And He was keeping them safe from harm...

Suddenly, this was no longer a kid's song.

I could see it as an historical event that really took place. Three young men (some biblical scholars believe they may have been teenagers) were really carried off into slavery to a completely secular, godless culture. They were told to choose between bowing down before a graven image or death. I was suddenly seeing three young men, looking first at the golden idol, then to a furnace of flames that had been heated to 7x greater than usual and back at the idol, knowing that one simple gesture would save their lives. And choosing to step toward the flames instead and saying, "If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to save us from it, and he will rescue us from your hand, O king. But even if he does not, we want you to know, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up." (Daniel 3:17-18)

Three young men who had the character, integrity and tenacity to obey their God no matter what! They were going to believe that God was good. Whether their physcial bodies went up in cinders or the son of God showed up beside them, they were going to believe His ways for them were best.

I think what got to me today is I have spent a lot of time thinking about the completely secular, godless culture my boys are growing up in - a modern day, Babylon where sex sells anything and unborn babies are murdered without a second thought. When Patrick and I were talking about what to name Daniel before he was born, Patrick said, "I think he should be Daniel because he is going to grow up in Babylon and my hope is that he will be a prophet for the One True God just as Daniel of the Bible was." Today, as I was singing away with the boys about Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, best friends to Daniel of the Bible and trying to go against the cultural grain of ancient Babylon, I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw my own little men sitting there. I wondered if I was doing a good enough job raising my own Shadrachs, Meshachs and Abednegos.

Of course, the historical account of the Bible has a happy ending as Nebuchadnezzar's heart was changed when he saw how the three men would give up their lives for God. But Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego had no promise they would live. They didn't know the son of God was going to show up, but they were going to obey him anyway.

My selfish prayer is that my children never have to face losing their lives for following the One True God. Or even their way of life or comfort, for following the One True God. But I know my godly prayer should be, that if the calling God has for them is to lay down their lives, that I (and Patrick) will have fullfilled our role in helping them be men of character, integrity and tenacity who would willingly step toward the flames.

Sabbath.

Not a word we hear much in Christianity anymore. I think our lives are so hectic and crazy, we've forgotten that taking a "sabbath" is actually a commandment from God.

"Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy. Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the Lord your God. On it you shall not do any work... for in six days the Lord made the heavens and the earth... but he rested on the seventh day." Ex. 20:8-11

I realize that even though we don't use the word "sabbath" often it's not a new concept to us, but most sermons I've heard about Sabbath focus on our need to take a rest. We talk about the importance of re-creating ourselves so we are prepared to do God's work the following week. As though God couldn't continue His work unless we had that rest... But I was struck with another perspective about Sabbath as I've been reading Louie Giglio's book, i am not but i know I AM.

He points out that Adam and Eve were created on the sixth day of creation and then immediately there was rest...

"Adam and Eve were feeling fine. They weren't stressed-out, overwhelmed, road-weary, overworked, vacation-starved, frazzled, worn down, bleary-eyed, over committed, or spent. Why would they possibly need a rest day this early in the game?

But maybe it was God who needed a break. After all, He was the one who had done all the creative work. Maybe He was the one who needed a rest. Right?

Wrong.

God wasn't the slightest bit tired on Day Seven. Making the world wasn't too much for him. In fact, God simply spoke and the world came into being. God felt the same on Day Seven as he had before He invented time and space."

It wasn't because Adam and Eve needed a rest. And it certainly wasn't because He needed a rest. God commanded Sabbath in order to teach us something about Himself... He wanted Adam and Eve to acknowledge and forever remember on each forthcoming Sabbath all the things He created, He put into place and motion, He kept in control, before they even showed up! He wanted Adam and Eve, and us, to know that He had already done it all long before we were there to offer our advice and suggestions or get our hands in it and meddle around.

Because it's so easy for us to think that we're the ones keeping it all together, right? The inability to take a Sabbath rest is really telling God that He is not doing a good enough job. He won't be able to take care of things if you let it go. That we are better than Him at handling things. We put ourselves under the weight of doing it all.

"The weight of trying to make yourself bigger than you are -- of trying to figure out how to run your life on your own, of always trying to determine the outcome, control the relationship, close the deal, run the show, hold it all together, know the future, protect your interests, build your kingdom -- the weight of playing the role of God in your life and the lives of those around you."

(For me, it's constantly wondering if I'm raising my children right or am I doing something that will turn them completely away from God in their adult years.)

"But be encouraged. Today is Sabbath. It may not literally be Sunday, but Sabbath is a state of mind and attitude of the heart. Sabbath happens anywhere and everywhere we let go of the controls and lay the cares of our lives at His feet.

So, where is your future right now? Where is the outcome of your pressing dilemma? Is it in the hands of the businessman on the other side of the conference table? Is it in the hands of the boyfriend or girlfriend or spouse? In the hands of a team of doctors?

Or, is your life, and all that concerns you, in the hands of the God who constructed the universe effortlessly in one week?

If you want more rest and less 'stressed' declare this very moment to be your Sabbath -- the place where you pry your fingers off of the circumstances and people you are trying so desperately to control, the place you discover that life really does work better in His hands instead of yours..."

Happy Sabbath day, everyone!

*all quotations are from Louie Giglio's book i am not but i know I AM unless otherwise stated