Banking on the 97.5%

I got a rather alarming phone call from my Obstetrician a few weeks ago. I knew it was rather important because he left messages at our home twice on a Saturday, then left one on my cell phone. We played a bit of phone tag on Saturday night, then I was left wondering. When you're expecting a child at my age (it's a big number I won't publicly claim, but if you broke it down into prime numbers it would be a multiple of 2's and 5's, but not too many 5's) you prepare yourself for the possibility that your child's health and/or development might be compromised. So Saturday night I pondered things and morbidly hoped that my obstetrician was actually calling because one of his kids, who are my pediatric dental patients, had some kind of dental emergency that he needed advice on.

Sunday morning Jackson was sick, so I stayed home from church with him. That's when my OB got through on my cell phone. He told me that one of my blood tests showed some abnormalities. I had just given up a few drops of blood for the first trimester screening, in which they measure protein levels that are markers for chromosomal abnormalities in the baby. He told me that the markers for Down syndrome were well within normal limits, but that another marker, which is correlated with Trisomies 13 & 18 (meaning an extra copy of either of those chromosomes) was in the unacceptable range. He told me that the normal incidence of either of these abnormalities was usually 1 in 20,000, but that my protein levels were elevated, lowering the risk factor to 1 in 39. When he said that, I felt a shock pass through me. I know a bit about various pediatric syndromes, being in the business of caring for children. I remembered that both of these syndromes had a high mortality rate, with most infants dying within the first few months of life. He kept talking about something else that did not register because I was processing my thoughts. Strangely, I remember feeling a bit of peace. Honestly, I was thinking that I was glad it was a syndrome in which our child might not have to live too long with disability. I was thinking that Ian and I might have it in us to love our little one for a short time before letting him/her go. I was thinking that it might be easier than a syndrome that would affect our child for a normal lifespan.

Then my OB's voice faded back in again. See I was thinking that going from 1 in 20,000 to 1 in 39 meant it was almost a done deal. But he broke it down into percentage risk. The percentage risk was 2.5%. And my spirits lifted. That meant that there was a 97.5% chance that Bright Flower would be okay after all. It was still hard telling Ian what the OB had told me. To learn more, we looked on the internet. The National Institutes of Health website had some good objective information about both syndromes, none of it looking very promising. We also ended up looking at two websites that were support groups for families of children with these abnormalities. The sites were most likely sponsored by Christian families who had decided not to terminate their pregnancies, instead talking about the joy they experienced in the short time they had with their babies before they died. Their stories were quite inspiring and exceedingly moving. I had to quit looking at those sites pretty quickly.

Getting this news has been rather life-changing, to say the least. We've been moved to more fervent prayer for our unborn child and have learned to be proactive in asking for the prayers of trusted friends. And we've had to recommit ourselves to our theoretical convictions about the value of life, now that reality has entered our lives. We've come to the realization that we really don't have much control over a lot of the circumstances of our lives. And we've had to confirm our convictions that it's not up to us to decide when someone else's life should end.

So this is where Ian and I have been the past few weeks, banking on the 97.5% chance that everything will be okay. During that first call from my OB, we were encouraged to see a genetic counselor. Ian and I decided that even though we didn't have any intention of terminating this pregnancy, it might be worth it to learn as much as we could so that we would be prepared for whatever might come. So on Friday we visited the counselor. She had accessed my lab results and asked if we wanted to go over them again, even though my OB had already talked about it. I figured it wouldn't hurt, since Ian didn't get to hear the direct conversation with my OB. So she started from the beginning of the report, confirming the low risk of Down syndrome and the elevated risk of trisomy 13 or 18. Then she got to the risk factor and we got the best news of the week. She was talking about how the cutoff risk level for trisomy 13/18 was normally 1 in 150 and that our risk was now 1 in 139, which wasn't too far off.... We had to stop her right there and then, because we had been operating on the assumption that it was 1 in 39. So she showed us the numbers again. Somehow, our initial information wasn't accurate and the odds were actually better than 2.5%. Whatever happened in the intervening 3 weeks, we had the great news that we aren't just banking on 97.5%, but instead on 99.3%.

We realize that there is no guarantee that Bright Flower is going to be totally okay. But we also realize that we trust in a good and merciful God and that no matter what happens, WE will be okay. So we continue to pray that He would bless us with a healthy child who we can raise to return thanks to the God who made him or her. And we ask for your prayers as well. Here's to 99.3%.

Clarice

Where's Jackson's ring?

Tonight as I was getting Jackson ready for his bath, he pointed at my hand and said "wing". It took me a minute to figure out that he was talking about my wedding ring. I said, "Yes, that's mommy's ring." So he pointed again and said "mommy's wing", then pointed out the door in Ian's general direction and said "daddy's wing". I thought it might be a nice teachable moment so I told him "mommy's ring means daddy loves mommy and daddy's ring means mommy loves daddy." So he pointed to his hand and asked "Where's Jackson's wing?" Ain't that precious?

Clarice

Cherry Milk

So Jackson's been sick this past week. It was bad enough that his pediatrician prescribed an antibiotic because she was detecting a sinus infection and possible ear infection. Ian and I had just been talking about the fact that he hadn't had an ear infection in about a year and we thought maybe we were out of the woods after the first 4 episodes between months 5 and 12. Not a good idea to gloat like that.... I was a bit worried about how we would get the medicine in his system. It was pretty easy up until 12 months. He didn't know what "no" meant yet. But now he's almost two and sometimes willful. I thought I would employ a pediatric dentist trick and try to make the medicine sound like a great thing. So I started talking about how we would have some "cherry milk" after dinner. Since he has positive feelings about both cherry flavor and milk, the stuff went down pretty easily. I guess it also helps that Jackson doesn't get much sugar (1 juice box and 2 pieces of chocolate in his life - poor son of a dentist) and these modern medicines are loaded with sweetness. So the next morning when we talked about "cherry milk", he got all excited and just slurped it down. Of course, the next day, in between doses, he looked at Ian and said "I want cherry milk. I want cherry milk." And Ian had to hold him off until the appointed time. So now we have just one more day of "cherry milk". I'm not quite sure what will happen when he doesn't get his morning and evening "treat" any more. Now if we could just figure out how to get him to think that the nebulizer treatments of albuterol are a great thing...

Clarice

Bright Flower

Hi, we're having another baby!

The first trimester is nearing an end, most of the extended family have been told and it's time to make a general announcement.

Do any of you pregnant parents have womb names? When we first found out about Jackson, we didn't really think of him as a tiny person until we saw his first ultrasound. Then after seeing him swim around with his eleven week paddles we just had to name him. But what? I've heard various terms of endearment for the little one-incher, such as Li'l Bean and Prawn. I think we waited until we knew the sex, then we named him in the tradition of John's in our family. Ian means John in Scottish (so if you're over there and have to use the bathroom, just ask for the Ian). There are actually over forty different ways to say John: Ivan, Ewan, Johan, Sean, Juan and...Juancho. Juancho rhymes with honcho and sounded manly to me. Juancho!!! Juancho-ho-ho!!! It stuck after playfully saying it with gusto a few times. Funny, though, that as soon as Jackson Timothy was born, we promptly forgot his womb name. He was no longer in the womb. Jackson after Ian and Ian's dad John and meaning "God is gracious." Timothy after Clarice's dad Timothy and meaning "to honor or fear God."

So now we have another one-incher. This time were hoping for a girl. It might not be a she but if it is we will naturally name her after the moms. Clarice's name means bright, illustrius and Ian's mom's name is Ivy while Clarice's mom's name is Pansy. Bright Flower. Which makes us Christian hippies, according to Clarice's brother. Bright Flower reflects the meanings of illuminating the fragrance of Jesus Christ (can you make a smell visible?), which is our wish for her.

If we have a boy we're not sure what we'll call him, but perhaps his womb name will be Strong Cedar.

Expectant, Part 2

Back in September, we blogged about being Expectant. We had been telling people that we were expecting in 10 or 11 months. Turns out we were right on the nose. So we can now officially update that expectant date from 10 to 11 months to 6 months from now.

Clarice

Conversational Gems

For the past two months or so, Jackson has been putting together words in an attempt to make sentences. He's getting better and better at communicating, but some of the earlier attempts were just precious. Here are some of my favorite moments.

"Another Book"

Jackson loves books. One afternoon I was sitting in the living room and he walked over and put one of his books in my lap. I took that to mean that he wanted to read, so I settled him in my lap and read through the book with him. As soon as I finished, he looked at me and said "anana book," meaning "another book". I saw one just a few feet away on the loveseat so I pointed it out to him and told him that if he brought me the other book I would read it to him. So he happily complied and we looked through "Cars, Trucks, and Trains". When we finished that book, he looked at me again and said "anana book." Since there weren't any more in the living room, I said "You can go to your room and bring me another book". He happily jumped off my lap again and starting prancing (those of you who have seen him "run" know what I'm talking about) off to his bedroom. The sound of prancing feet stopped abruptly and reversed. He peeked back at me and said, "It's dawk". I wasn't sure what "dawk" meant, so I peeked around the corner into his room to see that the light wasn't on. I didn't even know he knew the word "dark" yet. That was our first clue that he was going to start telling us about his needs and talking about abstract thoughts.

"There's a Blue Van"

Jackson's really into vehicles. Around two months ago, he started pointing out every single car on our way to and from home and saying "Oh! Car! Car! Car!" He must have learned "truck" from school because a few weeks later, he started saying "Oh! Twuck! Twuck! Twuck!". The declarations must come in threes for some reason. So one night we drove past a van and he said, "Oh! Twuck! Twuck!..." you get the idea. I thought, well now, if he knows the difference between cars and all trucks, it might be time to teach him the difference between trucks and vans. So I said, "No, that's a van." He repeated the word "van" under his breath a few times. And then a few blocks later, he said "Oh!" and pointed. Then he followed it up with a full sentence, "There's a blue van." I didn't know he knew "there's" or the color blue (now it's the only color he knows). I was fairly impressed, so I declared, "There's a blue van? You're so smart!" To which he made a sheepish face and said, "Noooo." I didn't want him to start so early on the whole fake modesty thing, so I said, "Yes. That was a good sentence. You're getting to be a smart boy." Again, he said, "Noooooo". "You're not smart?" I asked. "Nooooooo," again. So I double-checked his reponse system by asking, "Is your name Jackson?" Then came the reply, "Noooooo". Just being contrary, just like an almost two-year-old.

"For the Bible Tells Me So"

My parents got Jackson a book of hymns and children's Christian songs quite a while ago. There's a little strip of buttons where we can play the tune of the songs play while we read the lyrics. Jackson's favorite song is "Jesus Loves Me." We realized that when he started saying "Mommy, Daddy, Mommy, Daddy" to the tune of the song. Then about a month ago, he starting catching some of the syllables of the song. A couple weeks later, he started catching the lyrics, but dropped the melodies, making it a toddler spoken word version of "Jesus Loves Me." The tune or the lyrics would come up at random times. Last week we were with Ian's parents and realized it was time to start the bedtime process. We told Jackson, "It's time to get ready for bed now." He replied, "No. For the Bible tells me so." We didn't quite see the scriptural justification, but definitely laughed about it anyway.

Looking forward to (and also dreading) future conversations.

Clarice

Happy New Year!!

Wow! We whizzed through Christmas and New Year's Day without blogging. Hope you had a wonderful celebration of the birth of our Lord!!

Clarice

Family Picture

From November. All dressed up...better take a picture. But check out the look on Jackson's face. And that was the best of all three of us. Sigh.

Mine

We had our first parent-teacher meeting with Jackson's new teachers last month. It was a pretty encouraging meeting. They said that one of their favorite things about him was that he is always happy, no matter what he is doing. Apparently, some of the kids are only happy with certain activities, but just about anything can make our Jackson happy. The only thing that really gets him upset is sometimes not getting the food choices he wants....like fruit...for every course of every meal.

The teachers also mentioned that they were very impressed with his ability to focus. His primary teacher reported on how she once observed him stacking blocks and singing at the same time. She thought it was rare for a 20-month old to do that and was even more impressed that the hustle and bustle of other toddlers around him didn't distract him from his dual tasks. That description of focus didn't surprise Ian and myself. In the Gallup list of Strengths, I've been assessed with having a high level of Focus. We both thought he was demonstrating his mommy's tendency to be so single-minded that the world tunes out.

But the most interesting part of the meeting was when they expressed one of their concerns. The had observed that in the whole toddler "toy negotiation process" (ie what does a toddler do when another grabs the toy he is holding and proclaims "Mine!"?) Jackson had a tendency to just give up the toy. They wanted him to hang on and say, "I'm using that". Ian and I didn't get how that was a problem. After all, we eventually want him to learn how to be generous and sacrificial. Apparently, the teachers want the other children to learn that it's not okay to grab a toy out of someone else's hands. Plus, they saw that Jackson actually did get upset when he lost something that he was using and they didn't want him to be frustrated without a need to be. We weren't sure what we were supposed to do about that.

But, alas, it seems that just one month of human development has taken care of that particular "problem". Now Jackson has two favorite words (besides cat pee pee). "NO!" and "Mine!". And he is getting quite adept at fighting for what he wants (unless said perpetrators are named Alaina or Harper, then he's putty). Now we're going to have to figure out how and when to teach the concept of sharing. Ugh! I don't know that I've mastered that concept.

Clarice

Halloween Pictures

Okay, they're a few weeks after the fact. Ian and I decided to go ahead and celebrate Halloween. How often do you have an excuse to go knock on neighbors' doors and introduce yourselves without being thought weird. We met lots of neighbors.

Here's our trick-or-treater already grubbing on loot before we even left for our evening's festivities. It was Ian's idea to dress him up as a Jack(son)-O-Lantern.



And a family picture...


Jackson had so much fun knocking on neighbors' doors (which we don't normally allow). But he didn't know what to do with the candy everyone wanted to unload on him (because we normally don't allow that either).

Next year, Ian wants to dress him up as a Jack-alope. Poor kid. Fortunately, he won't be able to get mad at us for dressing him like this until he's at least 8. Six more years of mirth and mayhem.

Clarice

Cat Pee Pee

I don't quite know how it happened, but Jackson's left shoe has been reeking distinctly of the scent of cat urine for the past month or so. It's particularly pungent after his shoes get wet, which happens about once a week, when it's warm enough for him to go diving under the sprinklers at his daycare. So a couple of weeks ago, I had to complain out loud. "Jackson, why do your shoes smell like cat pee pee?" He spent the next 15 minutes or so walking around the house saying, "cat pee pee...cat pee pee...cat pee pee." He's never parroted a phrase repeatedly before. And the few other times I've complained of the recurrent odor out loud, he's picked up the chant quite readily. I have no idea why he likes that phrase so much. And I don't know why it cracks me up so much that he'll walk around the house repeating it over and over. So easily entertained.

Clarice

Afternoon Moon

Have you noticed the moon the past couple of weeks? Not the shape, but the time of its appearance in the eastern sky. It's appeared as early as 4:00 PM, while the sun is shining at least 65% (my guesstimate) of its noontime intensity.

Actually, I should be clear. Jackson was the one who first noticed the moon. He has been learning a lot of words lately. Around a month ago, his favorite pictures to point out were those illustrating the moon, the stars, the sun, and the clouds. It was cute to hear him fumbling about learning the differences between those words. One evening we pointed out the full moon and he called it the sun. No matter how many times we corrected him, he kept calling it the sun. I guess he hadn't really seen the sun directly, only in pictures, and most moons are depicted in illustrations as being half-crescents.

So a couple of weeks ago, as we were driving home from work around 4:30, he shouted out "Moon! A moon! I see moon!" I replied something like "Oh, you see a moon? Are you sure? The moon only wakes up at night-time." I thought he was probably confused again, since he was still learning those words and it was far too bright for the moon to make its appearance. And that was that. A few late afternoons later, he pointed again and said "Moon! Moon!" This time I looked where he was pointing and durned if it weren't the moon shining faintly over the horizon.

I pondered it a bit more the rest of the drive and realized that my little boy had taught me yet another lesson. I was convinced he was wrong about the moon. After all, I know that that moon belongs to the night. What place does it have appearing during the day, when the sun reigns? But Jackson doesn't know all these things. He just knows what he sees. And that hasn't yet been colored by his expectations about what he should see.

"Structure must always submit to Spirit." That's how my church phrases it. Sure, God's character is unchanging, but the times change and cultures change. Thus, the church and God's people must also be willing to change in order to engage the people God longs to bring back into relationship with Himself. I sometimes forget that. I see things the way I'm used to seeing things or the way I expect to see them and forget to look for different ways of seeing God or people or circumstances. Then little things like this happen and I am reminded again that I shouldn't rule things out. I need to remember to look with fresh eyes and see if there's something new and unexpected on the horizon.

Clarice

Bella

Have you heard about this movie? My pastor has mentioned it in church twice after having met with the filmmakers. After viewing the website I've learned that the filmmakers wanted to promote a life-affirming message. The conservative blogosphere is excited also. The townhall.com home page had two columns about it. Click here and here to read. Another one here added on 10/26.

It's opening this weekend with a limited release. Here's to hoping it will gain some traction at the box office. Ian and I are going to try to see it on Saturday. Any babysitters available?

Clarice

With a rebel yell...Revisited

Remember this from August 2006?


Well add a year, a cool new haircut (and some hair to necessitate the haircut), replace the toothbrush with a microphone, and you got Jackson doing a pretty good impression of Billy Idol


Or you can enjoy his impersonation of PeeWee Herman (You don't want to get mixed up with a guy like me. I'm a loner, Dottie, a rebel.)


That's our animated boy!

Clarice

Tenacious Bee

I have so many (potentially) blogworthy thoughts in my head. But the mental rough drafts for each are very long and would require a considerable amount of writing skill to pull off successfully. I keep thinking I ought to just sit down and start one of these long, self-aggrandizing posts. Instead, my mind keeps returning to something I saw this morning.

As I was getting into my car this morning, I saw a bee on the roof of my car. I don't like bees (because I was stung once) so I blew on him (of course he's a he) to agitate him enough to fly off. He didn't fly off. Instead, he hunkered down a bit more on the fabric of my ragtop and gave a little listless wave of the wings. I figured he was dying and would thus blow off my car once I started driving. So I headed off to work, listening to Jackson point out every single bus and truck on the way to UCLA. I dropped Jackson off at daycare, then stayed for a while to watch him and chat with one of the other mothers. Finally, I figured it was time to get to work, so I completed my journey down to south campus. When I got out of my car, I spied the bee again. He was displaced about a foot from his original location on my car, but was there nonetheless. I was incredibly impressed. It's about 8 miles to UCLA from home. I figure I'm roughly three or four hundred times larger than a bee, so a journey like that's probably similar to a trip from LA to Atlanta...on the roof of an airplane. I blew on him again and he had the same reaction. I tapped on the roof near him to see if he'd move, but he just hunkered down again.

All day long, my thoughts returned to the bee. I don't know why. I just wondered why he hung onto my car for such a long journey. When I returned to my car at the end of the day, I expected to see a dead version of him on the roof. But I didn't. I looked around on the ground and elsewhere on the car to see if I could find his carcass, but nothing. He had flown away at some point in the day.

I think I know why I'm so struck by the image of this bee. When I'm not feeling well, either physically or emotionally, I have a hard time holding on to any type of commitment. I just let go of things. But something in this bee caused him to hunker down and just hang on in the face of adversity. I probably need to learn some of that. Don't give up. Hang in there. Enjoy the ride. And when I'm ready, then I can spread my gravity-defying wings and fly....

Clarice

Jackson's First Statement

Since Jackson was first born, we've been tracking his major milestones. I had been writing them in my journal. For his first 13 months, I scribbled quite regularly about the new things he was learning. First smile, first laugh (funny that my parents caught both of those firsts), first day of eating baby food, first tooth, second tooth, third tooth.... But since he started walking at 13 months, there haven't been quite as many entries. It's interesting. So many activities are finite...measurable. You can clearly determine when a child has learned to crawl or walk or say a specific word. But now his main focus appears to be language development. And that's something that can take a lifetime.

I blogged before about some of his first words. He's certainly expanded his vocabulary in the past month. And his pronunciation has improved. For example, he now calls broccoli "brocciole" instead of "bok" and orange is now "orch" instead of "oof". However, he still says "ow ow" instead of "I love you."

Well, now Jackson's starting to put words together. Most of the time, it's words to express his needs. "More more milk", "more more brocciole", "more more orch". And tonight he charmed our small group at the dinner table by saying very clearly, "more corn peesh." Notice a pattern there? Yep, our boy LOVES his food. And the balance of the time, Jackson's naming the objects he can associate with words. "Oh, look...bus....bus....bus...bye, bye, bus" or "Oh, look...ruck...cruck...truck...bye, bye truck" or "moon...ky...tars...keeyoud". But last week, he made his first declarative statement.

I had been hanging out with some dear girlfriends for a very sad event (more about the ending of an era in another post) and was looking forward to coming home to see my boys. When I came in the door, I found Ian curled up on the sofa with his eyes closed. I figured he'd be trying to take his Sunday nap since he'd been under the weather. And Jackson was sitting on the living room floor "drawing". At least he was handling paper and crayons. He gave me his happy Jackson smile when I came in. When I sat down next to him and asked him how his day went, he pointed to Ian on the sofa and said "Daddy seeping". "What?" I asked. "Seeping," he gestured again, "Daddy seeping. Sssss." Since I still wasn't sure what he said, I told him that I didn't understand. That's when Ian piped up from his semi-conscious position on the sofa, "He said Daddy's sleeping." Ooops!

I've been reliving the episode all week long. It just tickles me that my little boy can identify the action of sleep and felt it was important to tell me that Daddy was sleeping. I wish I knew why he thought it was important to tell me. And I marvel that he knew that I didn't understand what he said. And, of course, it cracks me up that Ian had to emerge from his Sunday nap to translate for me. Overall, it will be a memory that I'll cherish. So my entries in my journal have slowed a bit. I just can't keep up with all of Jackson's new words. But I look forward to more language milestones....like our first real conversation.

Clarice

Medical Missions

My church takes a team to Ensenada, Mexico thrice yearly and the Labor Day Weekend trip is their medical team trip. Clarice used to go every year with the dental team, but then she met me and we had a little one. This year, I wanted to serve the poor in Ensenada and I especially wanted to serve on the dental team so that I could observe my wife in her natural habitat and understand better what she does so passionately.

Man, was I not ready.

First of all, I'm not a clean freak. Or maybe I am. As a special effects technician on movies, I got used to working with dirt and eating with not-so-cleaned hands (sometimes it was hypo-allergenic dirt). I could never work food service because I can't stand the need to always have clean hands for working with food. Besides my hands dry out when I wash them too much. However, one of the requirements of any medical team is sterile instruments and sterilization was the only way this medically ignorant volunteer could be of valued assistance. And I know these poor people need clean instruments because they are about to have their teeth pulled.

It's one thing in the movies to create squirting, bloody wounds with tubes and syringes or have red corn syrup and luncheon meat blasted out of your chest for a simulated gunshot wound. It's another thing altogether to witness a room full of wincing or uncomfortable people, trying to relax in lawnchairs as foreigners scrape plaque or fill cavities. I didn't get an upset stomach, but I was a bit uneasy at first.

So, fortunately for me, by lunchtime I had relaxed. I was able to take the instruments through the disinfectant rinses, dry and package them in sterile envelopes and pressure steam (autoclave) them for ten minutes. I could appreciate the smiles on faces of people who had been relieved of their tooth ache, a pain they had dealt with for up to a year and one that has now been replaced with a "good, temporary pain" as the novocaine wears off. I mourned for the children whose moms approved having their children's teeth pulled because they couldn't afford proper care. I was glad that certain poor farmers' children were given floss for the first time ever. A happy smile is a healthy smile.

I know one thing for sure, I'm going to double my efforts to floss my teeth properly.

Special Guest - God

Hey, here's a funny video about the Trinity made by some friends at my old church, Bel Air Presbyterian.

Expectant

Ever since Jackson was born, people have been asking us about "the next one." You know...nudge, nudge, wink, wink..."So when's the next one?" I think it took my dad all of one week after meeting his first grandchild before he asked for the next one. I don't quite remember how I responded in my sleep-deprived state of delirium. In fact, for the following year, my general thought upon being so questioned was to cover my ears and loudly sing some non-nursery rhyming song. Nothing like a little Deathcab for Cutie or Alanis Morisette to kill the thought of returning to 8-9 feedings and 10-12 poopy diapers a day. Actually, now that I think of it, it probably would have been better to sing some of those mind-numbing nursery rhymes after all.

However, now that Jackson's turning into a little person, we're starting to dream about the next one. And now we're proud to announce that we're expecting in 10-11 months!!

So...did I get you? Well don't feel bad if I tricked you into a false hope (if you're still confused, remember that pregnancy is traditionally considered to be 9 months). We've been saying that to people for the past month or so and quite a few people have been tricked into thinking that we're actually expecting (including an anonymous person I'll only identify as mom).

But I can honestly say that even though are not expecting, we truly are expectant. Not to get into the revealing details...but actually trying to promote the birth of a child is REALLY different from having it just happen to you (And by "you", I don't mean the hypothetical, non-descript "you". I actually mean Ian and myself). So now I've joined the ranks of those who long for a child. I'm a participant in the regular cycles of hope and disappointment. And I'm realizing that it's a hard place to be. But I am also confident in the goodness of God and the wisdom of His timing. For when we didn't think we were ready to welcome a baby, He brought Jackson. And now that we demand that we're ready for another, I rest assured that He has the right outcome in mind.

Clarice

A Little Lenten Period

I saw something a couple of months ago that got me all fired up. See, I have this pet peeve (well, I have lots of them, but this one is blogworthy). It really really bugs me when people throw their cigarette butts out their car windows to the street below. Maybe it's because I grew up in the 70's, when we were hounded by the "Keep America Beautiful" campaign. You know...Keep Litter in Its Place. It came at about the same time as "Only You Can Prevent Forest Fires," but that's another story. Because of that decade of brainwashing, I can NOT bring myself to litter with a clear conscience. If you check the lint trap of our dryer, you'll find plenty of evidence of that fact, as I tuck trash in my pockets if I can't find a trash can (or I tuck it into Ian's pockets so he can deal with either disposal or litter guilt) and then forget that I was going to avoid littering when we load our washer. Again, another story.

So a couple of months ago, I saw the familiar sight of an arm out a car window casually waving a cigarette. I started in with my normal flash of internal annoyance, when I noticed something that really ignited a reaction. See, the arm wasn't hanging out of just any car. No, this was a Toyota Prius. Yes, the Hybrid, the eco-friendly, "green" car. So I stayed on the car's tail, just waiting and waiting for the inevitable casual flip of the cigarette butt down to the street below. What do you think happened? Well, I have to be completely honest here. I took my eyes off the offending piece of refuse (the cigarette butt) for just a moment. When I looked back, the butt was gone, the hand empty. So I can't say with certainty that the Prius owner was also guilty of littering, but if circumstantial evidence holds up....

It just seemed like such an oxymoronic observation. Most Prius owners aren't casual about their car choice. I've found them to be fairly intentional about the choice of that particular car. And most of them choose Prius because of the potential reduction of gas consumption, thus decreasing said owner's carbon footprint. However, last time I checked, neither smoking nor littering were particularly beneficial to the environment (nor the health of the offender and his/her second-hand victims). OK. So maybe this Prius owner wasn't a rabid carbon-footprint reducer and maybe we can say that I shouldn't be so hard on the potential hypocrisy it would demonstrate. Maybe this Prius owner was just trying to be economical. You know, save some money on gas. But even that smells a bit oxymoronic, especially when you consider the fact that the average smoker consumes around 2 packs of cigarettes a day, which is the equivalent of about 2 gallons of gas (in my car, that's 2 days of commuting).

At any rate, I got all fired up thinking about other examples of hypocrisy. And after a while, I realized that many of the examples of things I thought of exemplified one side of the political spectrum. For example, why is it that many people who are passionate animal rights advocates are also strong advocates of the movement to expand abortion rights. Why is saving the whales more important that saving unborn people? OK. I got that one from Erwin McManus. Here's one I thought of on my own. Why is it that advocates who wish to normalize homosexual behavior can use the justification that sexual preference is inborn and can't be changed? Yet when a sex offender is being punished, people defend them with the justification that they can change their sexual preference and should not be subjected to preventive measures to protect children from their advances in the future. Oh no. I had a ton more in my mind that I can't remember right now. At any rate, I started thinking about using this blog to make a case for conservatism. I started a dozen posts in my mind about the drawbacks of modern day liberalism and the positive points of neoconservatism. I spent hours in the evening (and sometimes even at work) reading political blogs trying to put together evidence-based coherent arguments. But then something happened...

It was about a month ago at small group. A friend of mine (Hi Stev!) was praying for us to be passionate about the things that Jesus was passionate about. And suddenly I had this feeling of conviction. I was spending much more time pursuing knowledge of politics than I was knowledge of Jesus. And I had this immediate sense of what I had to do. I tried to push it away, but it kept coming back. So 30 days ago I declared a little lenten period. I was going to avoid all of my favorite political blogs and any other kind of political analysis for 40 days. Instead, any time I had a compulsion for that material, I would try to think about Jesus instead.

So it's been 30 days now. And it hasn't been too bad. It was kind of tough at the beginning, especially when major political moments occurred. But I've enjoyed redeeming the time. And come to think of it, I can't even remember what major political events occurred in the past 30 days which would require my attention.

10 more days to go. Hopefully, I'll be able to return to my political education with a bit more balance. But I'll still allow myself to get a bit annoyed when I see the flip of cigarette butt out the car window.

Clarice