21 Weeks

  Well, I managed to get up, get dressed and make it to church today! I feel like I accomplished something, considering I have been beyond a slug this week.
  My sweetheart is getting bigger every minute! In addition to little feet, I can feel some bony little elbows, too. At least, I think that's what they are. She and I have started playing hide and seek this week. Denali will be on one side and start moving around and I will squish her and poke her until she scoots away. And then she will start moving wherever she went to and I will start poking her again until she moves to the next spot. It's probably very annoying to her, but hey, what are parents for? I'm scared I'm going to poke her in her little head, but, hopefully there's enough cushioning that I won't do any damage. Anyway, it cracks me up. And I'm still waiting to feel hiccups!
  I went in early with John and sat through choir practice. John came over afterwards and asked me if I recognized any of the songs the choir had been practicing. I said that I knew one of them. (I should mention that I was raised Baptist and John is Catholic, so, most of the time I'm completely lost during Mass.) John was concerned because the choir director told him that the song in question was a "Baptist funeral song". He was worried that I wouldn't handle it well when the congregation sang it. The song was "It is Well with My Soul"(For those of you not familiar with the song, I've attached a hyperlink to the lyrics and the story behind them). To me, that song has always been comforting. It's about surrendering control over whatever circumstances life throws at you. The way I see it, you may as well, because there's nothing you can do about it anyway. It reminds me that I have zero control over what happens in my life and I shouldn't stress about it (though so often I do).
  Last Friday, two teenage girls were killed by a drunk driver while they were walking home in Anchorage. This is the second time the exact same thing has happened recently! It's such a horrible tragedy. And there's tragedy all around us. Which reminds me, again, that we are not in control. The therapist that I met with last week hit the nail on the head when she told me that I wasn't feeling safe. Any illusion of safety has been ripped away from me. I have been feeling very vulnerable lately. I'm constantly worrying that something is going to happen to my loved ones. I'm really not a worrier, so this was something new to me. But the threat is not new. I guess we just have to ignore it as we go about our daily lives or we would all go insane (and the makers of Xanax would rule the world).

I've always maintained someone should shoot that thing with feathers!

  Another thing that I have been thinking about this week- hope. I'm thankful that I don't have any. I don't believe in miracles and I'm not expecting one. I know what the outcome is going to be. I'm reading a book, I Will Carry You by Angie Smith. It's about a Christian woman who carried her terminally ill daughter to term. Throughout the pregnancy, her family and friends prayed for healing and sincerely expected God to work a miracle. They were very disappointed when their daughter was born and, like the doctors had said, died shortly thereafter. They were angry with God for not saving their daughter. I think they set themselves up for even more grief. They had hope in a hopeless situation and were crushed when they were wrong. I'm so thankful that ours is a hopeless situation. I cannot imagine the pain of having hope. For instance, watching your child battle an illness that may or may not kill them. The hope would be the worst part. I'm comforted by knowing what the outcome is going to be and being able to prepare for it.