I wrote this the day before Grace came.  I didn’t get to finish it.  I made some revisions and here it is. I’ll write more about my life as a Mother of four very soon…And my Grace, she is just beautiful. 

Fall is my favorite season of the year.  I love the crisp feel of the mornings and how in the afternoon you usually don’t need to wear a jacket.  I love the smell of the fresh rain drops and the crunchy leaves that I step on in my yard and on sidewalks.  I love that on Saturdays that it’s still dark around 7 am and sometimes Micah is fooled and sleeps until 8.  I love driving with my boys sipping my skinny hazelnut latte with my green straw admiring all the colors that hang from the trees. 

A couple of months ago we went to the pumpkin patch on a Monday afternoon after Jonah got done with school.  I had been feeling sorry for myself because Chris had to switch days until Grace was born.  Instead of having “the good days” off, we’d been forced to settle for Sunday, Monday, Tuesday.  On Sunday he is barely awake for Church and takes a nap during the day because though he is supposed to be off at 2am, he rarely was.  But on this day I was thankful for our non weekend.  We were the only people at the pumpkin patch that day.  The only people on the tractor ride.  The only people picking out pumpkins. It was lovely. 

It made me think about there is a time for everything, even when the timing doesn’t seem right.  Today I’m wondering once again what God’s will is.  What HE wants for my life.  In less than a  week I give birth to Grace and I am really tired. Six weeks ago I rushed Micah to the ER in the wee hours of the night for a steroid shot to open his windpipe.  The next day our my mini-van mega fun broke down.  The dayafter that a very mean lady was reelected at mayor of our city by a mere 1400 votes.  She is a woman who affects my husbands job, and doesn’t like street cleaners, which makes an already stressful job, more stressfilled.   The next day was the day my Mary would have been three. Then Micah got an ear infection, my really good friend moved away, Chris’s car broke down, we celebrated Veterans Day with my brother in law over in the desert again…blah, blah, blah.  I’m not trying to be a woe is me sort, I’m just wondering…what now?  Even though all I really want is a break.

Lately I’ve been really focusing on Ecclesiastes…This time of year always brings that out in me. Because good things have happened lately too.  Beautiful women in my life threw me a shower.  It was my kind of shower, no cheesy games, mexican food, and the blessing and prayers of people who know me and still love me.  I’ve been panicking less, and just giving things up.  Things like if the carpet is spotless or if the recycling is taken out right away.  Some of that is due to the fact that Chris took his paternity leave a week early because he doesn’t have a job he can just leave, and has a wife who has babies fast– and it didn’t hurt that my Doctor put me on partial bedrest until next Friday.  I need Him, Christ, and I need him, Chris, and both have given me that break. 

Because just like in Ecclesiastes 3 there really is a right time for everything, and these are some of the examples.  I didn’t use them all because there are a lot.

A time to be born,  because Grace will come early if she wants or she’ll wait for next Friday. (And she did…the next day after I argued with Chris, My Mom, and a nurse that I was NOT in labor…Even though I was…Grace was born three hours later)

 A time to die, Even when it doesn’t make sense or is unfathomable.                                                                 

A time to kill; because I really believe all sugar ants should die.                                                                     

 A time to heal; it doesn’t mean we didn’t love them or that we forgot– healing is okay. Atleast that’s what I keep telling myself.

A time to cry; When the woman bullied me at work because,”I was the biggest pregnant women she’d EVER seen!”  And kept going and going and going.  In my hormonal state I started crying and couldn’t stop… I thank God for Bonnie and Linda who intervened, and Amy who listened to me cry some more later on.

 A time to laugh;  When I was with my men at Starbucks less than a week later and a crazy hippy approached me to say my pregnancy was an epidemic…she ranted some more…and then thanked me for “adding another carbon footprint.”  I could have cried, but instead Chris and I laughed. I also said something to her, but this is not the time.

A time to grieve; for the widower that lost his wife from my sons school who picks up his daughters every day smiling even if his eyes don’t, my heart breaks for you and I grieve with you.                                          

A time to dance;  even if it makes you have to pee–dancing I think is the best antidepressant ever invented by God. 

A time to lose;  Because winning is overrated. And the Seattle Mariners need real fans not fair weather ones.

A time for keeping; I choose to remember all the firsts and lasts in this life, even when it’s not comfortable…it was still worth it.

A time for throwing away; If underwear is torn, toss it out.  That’s all.

A time to be quiet; Because sometimes it’s none of our business.

A time to speak up; Some of my heroes have spoken up, and lost everything.  There is never a wrong time to advocate for the protection of others, especially children.

A time for loving; because right now I feel very loved.  Maybe not pretty with extra pounds and a very unflattering but practical bra.  Maybe not smart as I function as a very exhausted person half the time.  But loved.  Today I feel loved and that’s more than enough.