beauty

normally, i have a thousand words.

i've used lots of them in the last few days so my brain might have turned into oatmeal in the last half hour.

here's the short  list:

a. Amazing police officers stopped by our house on Saturday morning and there is no doubt they were led here-- they were looking  for a crib for a family in need. A family whose baby needed a safe bed to sleep in. Suddenly, the crib I haven't been able to let go of or even talk about letting go of was set free from my heart. I'll write more about this later.

b. Their story, and the story about Ben's crib, kinda went viral. Because people want to hear stories with happy endings. Police officers with gigantic hearts, truly taking care of our community-- defending us, protecting the littlest ones of us. Yes, yes, yes.

c. A bunch of women I have never met sang out, "Me, too! Me, too!! My heart has loved a tiny one who outran me to the Father!!" There's so much comfort in the company of this sorority. We'll see them again! We will!! Rejoice!!

d. I've met a bunch of  journalists who want to report goodness!!! These guys want to proclaim HAPPY and HOPE. Channel 2, Fox 5 Atlanta, Channel 11. They're looking for JOY.

e. I'm reading Shawn Bolz's Translating God. Holy smokes, YES.

f. God has more for us than we could ever know.

g. He's good.

Something new...

First, let me tell you about my yard.

Gigantic yellow chrysanthemums and blooming roses and daisies and fluffy ferns and a slow burn just on the maple trees all invite you to stay in the rocking chair just a few minutes more. The wind chimes are finally starting to be stirred on a regular basis and if you scoot just past the planter filled with rosemary and lavender, a cloud of fragrance will force you to collapse into an adirondack and just breathe. The climbing roses in the back and along the chimney are starting to reach and actually climb, and sometimes, if you stand in just the right spot --in the driveway-- in the middle of a strong breeze, some mysterious fragrance (smells like jasmine? Maybe rose?) makes you breathe deep, sniffing the air and following it like a bloodhound. I think I found the source yesterday, I think, but I don't know what kind of bush it is-- is there such thing as a flowering jasmine bush? 

Even though it's fall and, technically, everything is about to die, it feels like brand-newness. In the south, we're all headed outdoors. The oppression of the last few months has lifted like a reprieve on death row and you'll find us on porches, at the lake, tailgating, walking to town, and crowding all the outdoor seating at restaurants. The last hurrah of nature will turn everything bright orange and gold and red and we have to be outside to see it.

Because I guess it's not really death, is it? It's more like sleeping. All of nature feels the biting sting of winter coming, so it pushes all its baggage off the end of its branches and heads underground for a long respite, stretching out roots and shoots, snuggling deep down into the warm earth for a restful nap, to dream about spring and new birth and new life. Snuggling deep, soaking up nutrients, hiding the beauty of its perfection until the unveiling begins in April. Nature gestates while life is woven and knit over and over and over again in a womb of dirt and roots.

And it's happening inside our house, too, and the mystery is just as profound.

I am newly, finally, pregnant. My hands shake as I type the words.

You've seen my last posts... I'm only about four weeks pregnant... I wasn't expecting it....I mean, I was hoping, obviously, but had come to a sort of settled peace about the thing...

It's early to share, but how could I not, really? Most people wait, right? Twelve weeks, or at least six, is when most of my friends seem to share their news, but they are better people than me-- I couldn't keep this to myself.

And for me, as my dear girl Sarah said, I must proclaim faith over this little one. I know that I will battle fear over the next few months. Not over the pregnancy-- my pregnancy with Ben was so easy, so uneventful-- but over that last bit of the journey, the doorway between cuddling under the earth and pushing the shoots forth: delivery. I have commanded my mind to stay put, in the name of Jesus, and will continue to as the months push on into the journey. I know my weak points, and I know the weapons of the battle.

God has not given me a spirit of fear, but a spirit of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.

A sound mind.


Here's the battle cry of the enemy:

"What if?"

It's a puny, whiny little voice that creeps and screeches and picks and drags. The battle cry of the enemy is:

"But how come last time...?"


But my God is good.


His battle cry is:

PEACE, PEACE

and Goodness

and Hope

and Charity

and HOLINESS.


God is my refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.
Therefore I will not fear, though the earth should change
and though the mountains fall into the heart of the sea;
though its waters roar and foam,
though the mountains quake with their surging.
There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,

the holy place where the Most High dwells.
God is within her, she will not fall;
God will help her at break of day.
Nations are in uproar, kingdoms fall;
he lifts his voice, the earth melts
The LORD of hosts is with us;
the God of Jacob is our stronghold.

Selah.

Psalm 46:1-7



There is a new baby here within, and I am grateful. And somehow, I am sad about Ben all over again, in a way that I have not experienced before, and while I don't understand it, I sense that it is part of the process.

There is so much more to this story, and I will share more later, but I had to share this news. Praise God for this new thing that I had only hoped for! Praise God in advance for this gift that I must hold with open hands-- if I have learned anything in these last two and a half years, it is that we simply cannot read or comprehend the mind of God. So I accept today and pray for His blessings and trust Him that He is endlessly kind and wise and merciful, no matter what.

But I will not expect the worst-- I will simply sit back and enjoy the colors as nature beats a hasty retreat into gestation with me, and will wrap the two of us in a cozy blanket and enjoy a companionable silence together as we wonder at the silent, dark knitting that is happening in us both, and hope for a blossoming in the spring. Wait and expect new life.

Selah.


3 Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, ⁴ and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you, ⁵ who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. ⁶ In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. ⁷ These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. ⁸ Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, ⁹ for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls.


I love You, Jesus. Thank you for today.


1 Peter 1: 3-10

Publix

I love a small town.

I love MY small town. I don't care what all the complainers say-- it has heart.

And it's all happening down at the Publix on the north side of town. Here's what I love: when people say, "Excuse me!" or "Hey, you dropped this!" or "Can I help you with that?" I love when people smile at you, looking you straight in the eye, as they pass you on the cereal aisle.

Today, the grocery store felt like Christmas. People seemed to genuinely have good will toward each other. The smile and nod didn't feel rushed or obligatory-- it felt, when I smiled at this one lady squeezing past my awkwardly placed buggy, that I was pushing happiness through my face and that she reflected it back. No big deal. No commitment required. Just toss it back and forth, like a ball. Toss it and keep going.

Another thing I love about going to our neighborhood grocery store is the fact that I can always count on bumping into friends. Russell and I see each other the most often, and after that is Nancy (whom I haven't seen in a while). Caroline is another regular, as is our good mutual friend Beverly :) (haven't seen her in a while either, come to think of it). This afternoon I saw Carter and one of his beautiful daughters, as well as a couple from my Sunday school class and another family from church. On the way out of the store, I saw Moose, one of the nicest people I've ever met and the owner of my favorite local coffeehouse, Kaiteur.

Sigh.

Peace on earth, good will toward men... Christmas in July. Even though it's August.

It doesn't hurt that the weather in Georgia is gorgeous today. The high was in the mid-80's, which is unbelievably cool for right now, and there's hardly any humidity. The sky is full of gigantic puffy clouds, blown up here from the hurricanes threatening the gulf and the east coast.

Here's something I'm finding: it's okay to enjoy things. I feel really, genuinely happy, even though there are those moments where I remember that someone is missing. Sometimes I feel like I'm walking a tightrope when it comes to that... just keep moving, keep pressing ahead, experiencing things that come, but trying not to get mired down. Sometimes going to the grocery store makes me cry-- especially right after Ben died-- but sometimes it's like today. Either way, you have to go. Best to try to focus on the good. Just keep moving.

Keep moving. That reminds me of something funny. One of my students has, for some reason, starting calling me "Mrs. Dori" from Nemo. I have no idea when it started, but she loves calling me her "Dori teacher" and something in it just makes me smile. Is it that I said, "Just keep swimming" without realizing it? (entirely possible) Have I told them not to get mired down in failure and to keep moving when it seems like they're going to fail? Or is it that she thinks I'm resilient? I don't think I sound like Ellen DeGeneres, and I'm not orange...

But it's true. There is very much a sense of "Just keep swimming" on this season...

Anyway.

There's always more to write, but I have to go finish planning for the week. Many blessings on you-- and thank you for the notes of encouragement. It's so good to know that there are so many of us on this journey together-- whether you've walked through the same experience, your own grief, or you can just empathize... thank you. At the risk of sounding trite, let's just keep swimming...

** Update-- 8/27 So, I asked my student why she was calling me Miss Dori and I laughed so hard when she told me the answer. It's because this whole year I have been so forgetful!!! I've struggled with remembering their names, what time the bell was going to ring, what day of the week it was... ha!!! Oh well, I'm keeping the "keep swimming" thing... :)

Short update

I'm not ready to write yet, but wanted to just post something small...

Our son, the beautiful Benjamin Joseph Swaney, went to be with the Lord on Tuesday afternoon, in childbirth. We remain stunned and sad and alternately numb and in agony, but there is so much grace sustaining us in the meantime.

We were not created for death, you know? We were not created to bump into it, to taste it, to experience it, to understand it. God created us for the Garden, for relationship with Himself, for friendship with the Eternal-- He did not design us for sin and death. It only makes sense that our bodies and spirits and minds would react with such violent passion and repulsion when it touches us.

I want to write about what happened, but I am not there yet. As a writer, I've never understood why someone couldn't "write about something yet" until now. Maybe I don't have the energy. Maybe I can't relive the whole thing again for the hundredth time today. Maybe I wish that I had answers to pair with my questions-- a perfectly balanced and composed piece. Doesn't exist, I know. Maybe I'm just tired. That's probably it.

But know this: we have no idea what happened. He was perfectly fine all night. I labored really well and it was looking like the vaginal delivery I was hoping for would happen (I know-- I'm crazy). They brought in an ultrasound just to take a look and make sure all was well with Ben and he was perfect-- even waved at us :) It was precious. He scored an 8 out of 8 on all of the points he needed to hit to indicate strength and health. But sometime during labor, near 12 in the afternoon, his heart rate started dropping. So they moved me in all kinds of positions and sometimes that would help... when it dipped way too low they pounced on me and rushed me into an emergency C-section. He was gone before they lifted him from my womb.

Maybe he was lying on his cord and his oxygen was cut off? Who knows? My fantastic midwife and doctor and everyone else are mystified. Somehow, I have peace with that part. I just want to know "why" from God. Medically, I can deal with the mystery. Relationally, I struggle with what was an honest-to-God miracle-- his conception and gestation--and why the author and perfecter of my faith chose to take this route with the baby Don and I had longed for. Still long for. Long for every second of the day.

So I wait.

I may wait until the day I enter heaven to understand, so my prayer is for more faith. More grace. To cleave tighter to God and to cry out for His mind. I trust Him completely, though I do not understand His reasoning. I have had glimpses of possible "whys" in these days, but I know that I am not even any measurable distance into this journey. I will carry a longing for Ben until the day that I hold him in my arms in heaven. I just hope that one day it won't hurt to breathe when I hear that name.

So again, I wait. And I am eternally, outrageously blessed with the husband God has given to me. I am filled with a thousand thoughts of how fortunate I am to be connected with this man in this life. The three-legged race I have always sort of felt that marriage was like has become a two legged race-- we are completely dependent upon each other, totally lost in our dependence upon our God. It is so good to be like-minded in this crisis.

And we are surrounded by the body of Christ. The community we live and work in has blown my mind once again. The friends and family who have rushed to our side have supported us in so many amazing ways. The love we have felt, so profound. From our sweet mothers and fathers, to our siblings and close friends, all the way to people we hardly knew-- and people we hardly knew before but who feel like lifelong friends now (the nurses in Labor & Delivery and Mother/Baby at Rockdale Medical Center. Their tenderness and mercy were the touch of the Father to me so many times...), we have been carried so tenderly. Our pastor has pastored and encouraged us. I cannot imagine walking this way without any of them. God has blessed us beyond measure.

But my mind always goes back to Ben. Blessed us beyond measure...but took our son. And my mind cannot comprehend...

But I don't have to. For now, it's all just faith. And not my faith-- it's faith that is a gift-- MUST be a gift-- from God....

Psalm 27:4
One thing have I desired of the LORD, that will I seek after; that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the LORD, and to enquire in his temple.

Update: Orange Cannister Blues

Brief update: all is well! All of my labs came back normal, my blood pressure is fine, and my glucose screening came back normal!! Yay!!

Meanwhile, baby boy is kicking so much every day... what a blessing. This was a fantastic week.

So, off to bed. Next week is BREAK!! Time to start on the nursery!! I'm 27 weeks this week-- third trimester begins on Sunday! Can't believe how time has flown by... wow. It's like a dream...