you got it zena. that's exactly what makes us consider it. beauty for ashes....

i did some more research and the phoenix was actually used as a symbol in early christian artwork as a symbol for resurrection and rebirth. could it be any more appropriate?

i'm not so sure actually how i feel about the way it sounds but i just can't get over how perfect it is in meaning.

i feel like i should say something in honor of mark palmer. i attended his memorial service today and i sobbed the whole way through. later though... i was talking with sef and i said that his service was just like his late wife jennifer's in that... i walked away from it with a renewed sense of what life is about and reignited passion for jesus.
i just don't really want to say anything else. he was an incredible man of faith and hope and love. and i've met very few people like him in my life. to say more than that would diminish the reality of my thoughts and feelings.

mark palmer... thank you for all that you were and all that you did. thank you for bringing more of the reality of jesus to this broken world. i can't wait to see you again.

amy and micah... i love you both and committ myself to you as a friend and sister.

sometimes i have these moments where i looks at my kids and love them so much it actually hurts. i actually cringe because for a moment the love that i am feeling is too big for my frail little heart. in those moments i usually experience a sharp intake of breath and a grimace and a physical sensation of tightening in my chest. anyone else have this?

like last night... i was just sitting watching julian sleep and suddenly he stretched and his feet poked out of the bottom of the blanket and i just absolutely fell apart with love. his sweetness was just way over the top and it overwhelmed me.

but then i felt sad because those feelings are closer to the truth than anything else i experience. the truth that i am blessed beyond reason to be a mother. i am blessed without merit or deservedness with treasures that can not be explained. with two (three) boys who are fearfully and wonderfully made and are little miracles walking around and reflecting the creativity and graciousness and power of God. and they are my job. my job is to care for and nurture three little miracles.

three little miracles who poop in the bathtub with some regularity. who act as if i stabbed them in the back when i won't let them have another piece of candy. who spill juice and cereal and yogurt on the rug and couch and on me. who wake me up while it's still dark out and want to go downstairs immediately and want breakfast and a show and vitamins at the same time right now while i'm still trying to figure out what day it is and where my glasses are. who make a zillion messes and then act like victims when i ask them to put their shoes and coats away before they play. who climb into bed with me every night and force me to sleep on the edge of the bed with their knees poking into my back. who won't sit in the shopping cart. who touch everything possible in the public bathroom. who take up so much room inside that i can't breath, have to pee every 30 seconds, get unfathomably tired by 8pm, and feel nauseous pretty much any time i'm in a car. who throw up on me, wipe their noses on my shoulder, spit their unwanted food into my hands, and somehow always manage to get pee all over the toilet seat.

and so if you're wondering... the sad part is that i forget that they're miracles. i forget that, yes... julian just pooped in the bathtub... again... while i was in there with him. BUT... it's my little miracle who's doing the pooping. he's still a miracle... and the poop will get cleaned up and yes... i have to do it. and no... i don't want to. and yes... i will gag and maybe dry heave a few times. and no... he will not thank me or apologize. but he is still a miracle. and the truth is... the real literal truth is... that if i had to make a choice... i would clean poop out of the tub every day for the rest of my life for the opportunity to love julian. or emerson. {or sasha?} (i'm glad i don't have to make that choice. whoo hoo.)

miracles that happen everyday seem to be lost on us. but they are no less miraculous. just common. and so the monotony and irritation and exhaustion of my boys eclipses that miracle of my boys more often than not. and it made me sad.

here's to living in the miraculous a few more moments today than i did yesterday.

(keep the comments on sasha coming.)

not that it's a democracy... but we're leaning towards the name sasha for our new little boy and a little feedback never hurt anyone. :)

i was just getting ready in the bathroom when emerson came in and said, "mommy, why are you wearing that shirt again?".

"oh honey, because sometimes when mommies have babies in their tummy, they don't feel so pretty. and this shirt makes me feel prettier so i wear it a lot. "

"but mommy," he says, as he builds a lego tower, "you'll always be pretty while i'm here. right? because i'm the one who loves you."

my heart is lodged securely in my throat.

chris has been out of town for four days now. he's in new york doing a photo shoot for dockers newest line. emerson and i were booked to go with him but i canceled last minute. julian has been clingy and insecure and i didn't feel good about leaving him. i went back and forth about whether i was being silly... but we decided to take a couple hours to pray about it and in my gut i just felt uncomfortable. who knows... anyway... we all stayed home.

it's been fine for the most part... but i'm really tired.

and ... i've pulled a muscle in my stomach and i can barely move. luckily both boys are asleep so all i have to do is lay here for now. i knew i had pulled a muscle earlier in the evening but it was only a dull ache. however, on my way home from my parents house tonight... both boys fell sound asleep and the temptation of carrying them right in to bed and not having to go through bedtime stuff was too strong. julian is 24 lbs. or so and i probably shouldn't carry him to much but it's not a crime. emerson on the other hand...

anyway... now i'm in pain. after i laid them down... i went downstairs to lock up and make a phone call and when i got up i realized i couldn't walk too well. so i crawled upstairs... somehow made it onto the toilet. (a must before bed when 6 mths pregnant) and into bed.

i've done this about twice in each pregnancy and its usually gone in the morning. so i'm going to assume it will be this time too.

a word to the wise... don't carry your 4 year old upstairs to bed when you're six mths pregnant and have already pulled a muscle. then again... i can't say it wasn't worth it. :) it's been a very quiet evening.

chris gets home tomorrow night and i am counting the minutes.

saturday night my husband threw a birthday party for me. i turn 30 on wednesday. he spared no expense. i felt incredibly loved. he shipped the boys off for the day and set up an appointment for me to have my make up done by a professional stylist. my sweet brother, christopher, came over and gave me a new rock star haircut which i loved and needed because i was feeling rather "momish" and frumpy and huge. i shaved. (an infrequent event) put on a cute dress and boots. the whole thing felt like "a make over story". christopher picked me up for the party later which was at chris' super mod studio in the arena district, and walked me upstairs where i entered a room full of my closest friends, elegant flowers, flickering votives and hip music. there was a bartender serving mixed drinks and wine. a table filled with sumptuos gourmet delicacies beautifully presented... cajun shrimp, italian cheeses (one layered with black truffles, brie topped with honey and almonds), proscuittio and nut encrusted pork tenderloin, roasted peppers, portabella mushrooms, asparagus with a savory sauce on the side, and two huge bowls of tiramisu... all prepared by his sicilian friend and chef - deborah. i surveyed this extravagance and felt overwhelmed that it was all for me. then the surprise... around the corner came my little brother JT who recently moved to LA and who i have missed very much. (chris had flown him in for the party.) the great part of this was that the day before i broke down crying to chris because i felt his absence so pointedly with the party coming up. chris put his arm around me and said he was sorry - all the while having already purchased his ticket.) wow! good poker face, honey!
it was terrific to have my family all there.

so anyway... the party was great. everyone had fun, ate generously, drank well and it was lovely. i didn't get to bed that night till 1am which i am still trying to recover from... but hey... you only turn 30 once. (pregnancy and two little ones makes you chronicly overexhausted as it is. 1am is almost idiotic for me.)

mostly, the night was symbolic and healing... i think for many people. last year, this time, things were very different. this year God's redemption and power was evident in the entire evening.

i have a wonderful husband who adores me. and knows me. somehow knew that more than any material possession what i wanted was my little brother to be there even though i never mentioned it until after he'd seen to it that it would happen. how did he know that? except that he has learned to understand my heart and see me in a deeper way than i had ever hoped for.

and i have wonderful friends who made me feel so honored and fussed over.

i feel rich in every way.

on a slightly different note... the lack of sleep and the busy week have led to one tired mama. i am tremendously worn out and my body is starting to send me signals that it's not pleased. that it's had enough and is strongly considering resignation. last night i woke up all night with such severe cramping in my stomach that i called out to jesus to help me. julian woke up at 4am. yes four am. of all days.and that was after fitful sleeping in general and lots of neediness and kvetching throughout the night. between the cramping, juian's fitfulness and emerson's potty trip, i felt like i'd barely slept. luckily the boys and i had spent the night at my parents to hang out with jt and christopher a little more and my mom (who was hotflashing and awake) took him and sent me back to bed. my stomach was sore and aching. it has continued to ache off and on all day especially when i lift julian or am on my feel for a long time. yikes. not sure what to do. have tried to rest and lift very little. all day hoping that tomorrow i will be miraculously back to my supermommy self. :) wishful thinking? i'm afraid so... i think i need to start living like i'm really very pregnant. but how do i do that with two little boys who need so much of me and a huge house that already feels chronically torn apart.

please pray for me that God would strengthen my body. but that he'd also give me creative ways to rest. pray for me to balance caring for my two sweet boys as well as myself and the one inside. pray for my boys that they'd have patience and grace beyond their years. and that God would help them to feel secure... especially julian who wants to be held pretty much all day. and emerson too who is still so dependent on my affection and attention throughout the day. pray that i'd really see the priorities of life and that the house would take it's place near the bottom. and for chris who has already been carrying a heavier load than usual. thank you friends.