Here stands a little Troy on the small baby gate, wishing his mommy would stop taking pictures already and take him over to her side.

Swinging your leg over a three foot tall baby gate–not the one in the picture–about ten zillion times daily does wonders for your flexibility.

Doing so with a baby in your arms does… something good. Improves your… strength. Or something.

And doing so with a sleeping baby in your arms, gently enough to keep him fast asleep as he’s then placed in his crib… that just means your starting to learn how do this “mommy-thing.”

Preemie and NICU babies are near and dear to my heart, being that I’ve known quite a few of these precious babies and their families in the past couple years. I also have a cousin who is a nurse in the NICU and has relayed many stories of the little ones she ministers to daily. The picture of our dear friends’ baby girl lying in the NICU bassinet the day she was born at 24 weeks has left an impression on my heart that cannot be erased.

I saw this today on Susan Godfrey’s Blog and knew I’d not only found a way to be a little bit of a blessing to these seriously ill and oh-so-precious little ones and their families, but also a way to actually DO something with a few of those five million hats of all sizes we were given before Troy was born. We were just going through his old clothes last week and didn’t know what on earth we were going to do with all those hats! Many of them were too big when he was born, are too small now, and another baby could never hope to use ALL of them! So I’ll be mailing out a little package with a few baby hats, and praying for the babies and their families who will one day wear them.

(and, by the way, I’m home from church with Troy because we both have colds. So when you see the time this was posted, 11am on a Sunday morning, don’t think I’m just playing hookie from church. My hubby is there all by his little lonesome, leading music and directing choir. And I’m here, sniffling and sneezing… and blogging–after having my devotions, of course. )

Now that my pathetic plea is through, you may return to your regular blogging.

Anyway, to begin.

Do you ever start cracking up at your own thoughts?

Maybe I’m just weird and alone in this, BUT, at least I don’t do it often. And, so, when it happens twice in one week, John begins to think that not only are my screws loose, he’d better start looking for them in the corners of the house or find some new ones quick.

Laugh attack Number One came on Wednesday night on the way home from church, while I was remembering the crazy time Heather and I walked close to two miles one way to another friend’s house just so we could start our first day of walking to get in shape together. With Brianna walking along also, little Anjolie and itty-bitty three month old Lily in the double stroller. Up kinda-steep-when-you’re-walking hills. But that’s a whole ‘nother post in itself. Kinda like the time we got up at 3:30 am to get ready to be at church (35 minutes away) for the sunrise service. Our hubbies left together even earlier than we did, since they were cooking for the breakfast they, along with the other deacons, were hosting. We considered not going to the sunrise service, since Heather had three little girls to also get ready for Easter, but she was singing for the service and I was playing the piano for her, so, ya know, that kinda settled the issue. Yes, we’ve had some pretty hilarious moments together, that’s for sure.

Laugh attack Number Two came yesterday, this time as were driving home from the Exchange here on base. I was looking toward the hills that surround our base to the left and remembering some old friends who lived there when I was in high school, and one thought led to another, and… I was again, chucking, chortling, and guffawing. John, quite patiently and with one eyebrow raised, asked what the story was behind this one… so I told him. In my own signature way. With every single detail.

So. When I was “in high school” (which, translated, means, being homeschooled, but with friends from church who were both homeschooled and went to our church’s little ACE school–and who were just regular ol’ teens across the board) we could be a little silly. Shocking, I know. So silly, in fact, that when someone’s little sister was learning to do simple crochet chains with some old, gray-blue scratchy yarn, we could turn it into our own little fashion statement. At church one Sunday afternoon, this little girl gave a couple of us looong strings of her crocheted creations, which the same couple of us absentmindedly tied into long “necklaces.” Deciding they looked much too ridiculous to wear as necklaces, my friend Robyn wrapped hers around her wrist. So I did the same thing–a perfect example of fifteen year old maturity, of course. Then Misty did it. Then Vanessa did.

And we wore them like that. Every. Single. Day. For months.

We knew we’d really started something when, a month or two later, the older sisters of the little crocheter asked her to make them some.

It didn’t matter what we were wearing. Church clothes, sports clothes, casual clothes. We wore these silly “bracelets”–which, when wound around our wrists, were a few inches wide–with everything, much to my mom’s dismay. I remember one Sunday, getting ready to leave in a fancy black skirt/blouse set with deep red flowers scattered across it, hair in place, black high heels, silver necklace and silver-black earrings… and the blue scratchy yarn bracelet. That was the day Mom gave the death sentence to my oh-so-fashionable “jewelry.” She asked Dad… what did he think? The look he gave–a signature “Daddy look,” half “Ash, I love you but you’re impossible,” and half “This has gone too far,”–the look said it all. So, off came the bracelet. Robyn even asked where it was that morning, and I had to explain. It was a sad day.

But, I thought it odd when, a couple days later, I realized I hadn’t thought to put it back on. When I glanced at the bracelet hanging in all it’s gray-ish yarn glory on my mirror, I wrapped it around my wrist again, and thought it looked kinda… ridiculous. Yep, that was it. Why would anyone want to wear such a thing? Honestly. Goodness gracious. Aaaand, into a drawer it was stuffed.

That was me. At fifteen. Cause for a laugh attack a few years later and sure enough, with a few screws loose.

There are some naptimes when I can’t wait for him to fall asleep so I can finally get something I need to get done.

But then…

There are some naptimes when I forget about all that I meant to accomplish, and just can’t seem to pull myself away from the side of his crib. I just… watch him sleep. In awe of this precious little one God has given me.

I wuvs him, I do.

You know, it can be oh-so-easy to focus on ourselves. Oh, you knew that? I seem to have forgotten.

I laugh when I read my little posty from last week about all of our “plans.” You probably laughed when you read it. Remember my tag line, that we’d probably just be sent off to Japan or something in the next couple months? I meant that as a joke, but, um…

No, we’re not going to Japan. In fact, we have little idea where/if/when the location would be if we/Troy and I/John go anywhere.

And you know what? I’m okay with that!! Shocking, no? But that’s today. You didn’t talk to me yesterday.

For many different reasons just about every major area of our life is up in the air right now. God knew I needed another lesson in that there school of flexibility! Yesterday, when I found out that we might be in for some much bigger changes than just moving across base, I was, frankly, scared, fearful and anxious. I kept busy throughout the day while we waited for the confirmation we thought we’d get at some point yesterday. But John finally called in the afternoon and said that the person on whom everything hinges is on leave this week. We won’t know the answer to the big question until next week. Soooo :deep breath:, that means we’ll just wait. And know that just as we will trust the Lord then, we will trust Him now, while we’re waiting.

At one point, in my mindless wandering throughout the day, I went through a mental checklist of the “BIG” areas of a normal life, and laughed to myself that there’s some sort of question mark next to each of them for us.

Then came reality. A little bit o’ perspective to make me see just how selfish I was to worry so much about things I could not control. God knows the end from the beginning… I don’t. He knows what is best for us… I don’t. And He has proven Himself faithful in so very many situations. How could I even doubt for a second that He would allow something that is not for our ultimate good? My fear is not a reality. It just isn’t. I’m worrying about something that I have no idea or control over whether or not it will actually happen.

I thought of little Ashley, who is in such great need of prayer today. Her daddy and siblings had to go back home, so her mama is alone again and Ashley’s having a hard couple days. That is reality.

I thought of an old, old friend who has just this week been put on hospice and is at home now, losing her battle with cancer. She is a pastor’s wife, with four children and a little bundle of grandchildren. She is tired, so very sick, and will soon be with the Lord. That is reality.

I thought of a very dear friend of mine, who is facing for certain nearly every aspect of the things I am fearful of. She is still just trusting the Lord and continuing on. That is so very much reality.

I thought of Kelli, for whom so many blogging mamas pitched in to help and pray last week, and who has received some heavy news today. She will be going on full dialysis, having a shunt put in to her heart through her chest, going to the hospital 3 times a week, for 3-4 hours each day. She is still waiting for a kidney transplant. That is reality.

Today I read the entire story of a little girl I had prayed for, Emma Grace. By the end, my cheeks were wet and yet I was overcome by the sheer awesomeness of our Father. Even in the hardest of times, He has shown Himself faithful and more than we could ever ask or think. Emma’s mommy has been through more than I could ever dream of, and can still smile and praise the Lord for all that He’s done. That, dear sisters, is reality.

So I’m going to continue on in reality, whatever that is for us. Not in fear, not in stubbornness because I think I know what is best. Not in worry upon worry because I can’t see more than a day ahead. God has given me today, and that is reality.