Alleluia's in Lent II (Never Forsaken)

It feels like fall here. My grandpa died in the fall of 2016 and my grandma died this past Monday. In my mind, they both died in the fall. Grandpa in September (fall in the States) and Grandma in March (fall in Argentina). My grandma was a God fearing woman and I know she is with her Lord. My heart does not mourn the victory she has gained in her death; she lived a long full life. My heart is heavy because I said goodbye to my baby on Monday as well. The day started with a loss and ended with a loss. We were ten weeks pregnant and looking forward to delivering this baby in what would have been fall in the States; spring in Argentina. I can get pretty lost in time here in Argentina. I have to remind myself what month we are in and the weather often betrays me. We are hot in December and cold in July. I suppose my baby was a little confused too and didn’t realize that it was supposed to wait until it would be fall in the states, not in Argentina. 

I was excited about our timeline. I was already anticipating bringing our family back to the states in October to celebrate Octoberfest, halloween, my sister’s birthday and the new baby’s first birthday. I was getting the house ready to fit one more tiny human. I was planning how to tell family and friends. I was not anticipating another miscarriage, especially with every day of progress. It is such a cruel thing to loose a child in the first trimester especially when all the symptoms of early pregnancy are the worst and we endure and push through with the hope of holding a child at the end. My timeline for the next seven months was all set. It is hard to believe that God had a different timeline that includes my suffering. It is hard to believe because I don’t believe that He does that, His timeline is not so sadistic. I have to believe that my suffering will one day give birth to joy even if I can’t see it now.  

I’m no better at this than I was with my first miscarriage. I don’t really even feel any wiser. A great difference between my first miscarriage and this one is that I feel more supported this time. It can be hard to reach out and tell people what is going on when you know that the road to joy could take a sharp left and leave you at a dead end of grief. Yesterday a missionary friend checked up on me regularly all day. Last night I cried with my parents, my aunt, and my sister. This morning I found messages from my brother and sister-in-law. My husband held me, and my daughter wiped away my tears and told me not to cry. I hugged my sweet little girl and remembered God’s mercy in the midst of my last miscarriage and the joy He gave us in our sweet little Evangelina. I recall His promises and His faithfulness and I feel peace. My soul still mourns and magnifies the Lord at the same time.  My spirit longs for restoration and rejoices in God my Savior. Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia! 

Revelation 21:4 New King James Version (NKJV)

4 And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away.”

Picture of my mom caring for her mom in her last days (because I don't have any pictures of the baby) 

I look to the Cross.

I remember in Seminary when the head of the library was orienting us to how the Library on campus worked. He made a joke saying; “If you are looking for periodicals, all you have to do is just as King David did when he said; I look to the hills, where comes my help.” He then pointed to an impressive amount of boxes stored above the book shelves. That pairing of scripture with something that frightened me; research, calmed my anxieties and made the task seem less daunting. I love libraries for the solitude and peace they can offer, but the insurmountable information they contain can be daunting. 

Very recently, the Latin American Lutheran community has been mourning the death of a beloved shepherd. A Venezuelan pastor was murdered in a way that can only be described as horrific and at the hands of pure evil. The news has shaken many and saddened all within the Lutheran community. The amount of unanswered questions is terrifying. 

Much of Latin America is suffering economic crisis but the forerunner and the country suffering the most is Venezuela. Due to economic and governmental crisis, it is difficult to say why a Lutheran pastor may have been a target, but the pastor isn’t the only target. The church at large in Venezuela is under attack. “Strike the shepherd and the sheep will scatter.” Matthew 26:31. 

Sin becomes a concoction to remedy fear and pain for living in a society where daily bread is hard to come by. Many have found refuge in other countries waiting, praying, and helping from afar for the remnant. There is a great rising of fear and confusion when a pastor is lost in such a way. This is the second Lutheran pastor I have learned about having been murdered in the past four years. How could God allow this to happen? Doesn’t the Psalmist promise that The LORD will be our keeper and that He will preserve us from all evil? 

Something I know I have taken for granted is the luxury of my faith. We preach against the theology of glory, but in my mind there is a little voice that says; “be faithful to God and He will be faithful to you.”  The problem with that is my own interpretation of God’s faithfulness to me and to others. The Lord is our keeper; the keeper of our soul. He has called dear Pastor Luis Coronado into eternal rest. He holds the souls of all believers in Him. While evildoers can hurt us and take our lives and our bodies, the Lord of all creation still holds us within His care. While we may cry for justice, we must remember and hold fast, knowing that the battle is the Lords. He will have His justice. Please pray for the family of our sainted brother and Pastor; Luis Coronado, pray for all pastors fighting to feed the flock in Venezuela. Pray for Venezuela and all her leaders. Pray that God would preserve us all in these later days, and call us to look to Him and His suffering endured for us. Our help truly does come from the Lord. 

Christ is Risen! 

Psalm 121 

I will lift up my eyes to the hills—

From whence comes my help?

2 My help comes from the Lord,

Who made heaven and earth.

3 He will not allow your foot to [a]be moved;

He who keeps you will not slumber.

4 Behold, He who keeps Israel

Shall neither slumber nor sleep.

5 The Lord is your [b]keeper;

The Lord is your shade at your right hand.

6 The sun shall not strike you by day,

Nor the moon by night.

7 The Lord shall [c]preserve you from all evil;

He shall preserve your soul.

8 The Lord shall preserve[d] your going out and your coming in

From this time forth, and even forevermore.

"I GOT YOU MAMA"

Within the past few days our sweet little pumpkin has taken to saying “I got you!” and it isn’t as if she were playing hide and seek, she says it in a consoling manner. The other day I was walking with her and she asked to be picked up. I lifted her up, she rested her head on my shoulder and said; “I got you mama.” Her tone was the same as when she says “I love you.” They were words I needed to hear and be reminded of. 

It’s difficult sometimes to remember that what you have been called to is all of life’s daily tasks; the mundane and the memorable. I often feel forgotten in Argentina and I don’t think it is a feeling unique and isolated to my station and place in life. I believe we all feel forgotten or meaningless at times. I believe we all need the gentle head rest of a child and the a tiny voice saying; “I got you.” 

It wasn’t just the way my daughter said “I got you” it was the fact that she learned it from me. She said it because it is what I am constantly saying to her. When she bumps her head or faces a world full of emotions that she has never experienced before, I scoop her up and say; “I got you my honey bunny.” I imagine we all run around tending to the needs of others like it is the most important thing on our to-do list and it takes those gentle reminders to show us that what we are doing for others, they are also doing for us. My daughter might not change my diaper, feed me and bathe me, but I find purpose in her. I find meaning, and that doesn’t mean that everyone needs a two year old to have that. I find my vocational joy in Eva even though at the same time I think I might want a more “meaningful” task like writing books full time, feeding the hungry, teaching our world’s future leaders, or even saving the world from destruction and catastrophe. 

Eva’s gentle touch and words remind me that it is enough and she does in deed “got me.” and God gave her to me. More than that, God has me. He holds me within the palm of His hand in a way that reminds me that no matter how insignificant I might feel or think that I am, He remains present and active in my life. He is mindful of even my most mundane days. Sometimes, when my husband reminds me of how God cares for me I scoff and think; “I’m pretty sure God has more important things to be mindful of than my petty problems.” The truth is; He does, but that doesn’t stop Him from loving and caring for us. If there is one thing my isolation has taught me it is that God is ever present and ever caring in majestic ways veiled in the mundane. He is mindful of me, He is mindful of you and He’s got us.  

Isaiah 46:3-4 (NKJV)

“Listen to Me, O house of Jacob,

And all the remnant of the house of Israel,

Who have been upheld by Me from birth,

Who have been carried from the womb:

Even to your old age, I am He,

And even to gray hairs I will carry you!

I have made, and I will bear;

Even I will carry, and will deliver you.

Someone's Choice

When I started consulting with peers for writing the book “Never Forsaken” I was asked by a dear friend if I had considered including the topic of “abortion.” I awkwardly laughed and tried to gently explain that this would be a book dedicated to miscarriage not abortions. After taking a moment to consider the source, a better response came to mind and I asked her; “Why do you think abortion should be included?” Her explanation got me to think a little bit differently about my pain with miscarriage and how it might relate to those who chose to terminate a pregnancy.

When I was pregnant with my firstborn, the doctor gave me a little booklet that he took a moment to fill out at his desk before handing it to me. It was a mini medical booklet with significant medical history to help whatever doctor was tending to me during my pregnancy. The first part of the booklet asked for the mothers previous pregnancies. My doctor had marked that this was my second pregnancy and that the first was terminated due to a “spontaneous abortion.” The last thing I wanted was my lost child to be associated with that word; “abortion” especially for all the negative connotation it carries. As the debate continues I keep thinking that the source of the battle isn’t just in law making and choices, it also lies in reminding women connected to that word; “abortion” that they are still beloved children of God despite choices made.  

With all the hubbub and commotion with “Walk for Life” and in contrast, new laws that have passed in New York with regards to abortion; I wonder how much are we trying to understand the women who make the choice to terminate a pregnancy. I believe there is a whole group of women out there who feel persecuted, judged, condemned and believe me when I say, they have a deep grief that goes unshared and unspoken. We need to be clearer in how we talk and condemn abortion. We condemn the laws that are passed and those who gleefully support the passing of those laws, not the women who fall prey to

believing they do in fact have to make a choice. We condemn the brainwashing of a culture, that tells women “you have a choice” when in reality it pushes them into thinking that they really don’t have any other choice apart from abortion. 

The majority of abortions occur because motherhood poses an inconvenience, I suppose at the very least we are recognizing the full time task being a mother entails, and that it is in fact a selfless calling. I wonder how many lies a woman has to tell herself to find consolation for making the choice to terminate a pregnancy. Ladies and gentlemen, there is a mass amount of people out there mourning the “choice” they thought was the only choice they had. There are mothers who are mourning the loss of a child silently because at the end of the day, grieving would just be admitting that you made the wrong choice. Can you imagine loosing a child and not being able to express regret not only for the judgement that would fall upon you at your own hand but also by the hands of others? 

I believe most women who have abortions are broken inside just like all of us, they just tend to be a little better at hiding it. I think most women who have abortions are sad and longing for a better way out but they can’t see it. I am convinced that most women who have abortions aren’t thinking about women’s rights when they go in to terminate a pregnancy. I assume that most women who have abortions are mothers broken down by the standards of a society that says; “having children will ruin your life and destroy your dreams.” I believe that most women who have abortions think a lot about what life would be like if they never had to make the choice they did make. I believe that most women who have abortions think about if they did in fact make the right choice. Finally, I believe that women who have abortions carry a heavy burden for making a choice that they then have to deal with the consequences alone. 

Choices are nice to have, but it seems like we aren’t offering much of a choice but a forced push off a cliff. I believe that women who have abortions are redeemed, loved, and can find peace in Christ. Much like a mother who has lost a child to miscarriage, I believe that most women who have abortions long for a day of total restoration. I believe that they deserve to grieve in a safe place and hopefully one day they can find the voice to serve as an example for others. Hopefully one day they can be an example that shows how sometimes making a choice isn’t a right or liberty, but an enslavement to something else. Let’s not forget the mothers of the children lost to abortion because I am certain that most of them are hurting too and in a much more deafening void of silence. 

Psalm 130:3-6 English Standard Version (ESV)

3 If you, O Lord, should mark iniquities,
    O Lord, who could stand?
4 But with you there is forgiveness,
    that you may be feared.

N 

5 I wait for the Lord, my soul waits,
    and in his word I hope;
6 my soul waits for the Lord
    more than watchmen for the morning,
    more than watchmen for the morning.

https://www.cph.org/p-32050-never-forsaken-gods-mercy-in-the-midst-of-miscarriage.aspx

Bunny Soft Toilet Paper

Recently my beloved (Roberto), my darling (Evangelina) and I all traveled north for a few weeks to escape the winter. After having been home a while, I have begun to reflect on the things I miss the most from my old family homestead. I’m not sure if I ever knew “soft toilet paper” quite like the toilet paper my parents had in their home for this visit. It might have been an improvement that came over the years while I was away or perhaps it was one of the many changes they made with their recent remodeling. My parents are now purchasing generic toilet paper that they buy in bulk and hold on stock in their home. It is the softest toilet paper I have ever used! My husband put it most accurately in stating; “It’s like wiping your butt with a bunny,” lovely thought.
For the first few weeks of our visit, Evangelina and myself were nursing a horrible cold with runny noses, and for my little darling it included many tears. Bunny soft toilet paper came in quite handy. I blew my nose so much and yet I never got an irritated nose like I normally get for blowing my nose so much. I spent the majority of my time with wadded up balls of humid bunny soft toilet paper in my pockets and in my purse. When it came time for us to return to the south, many tears were shed. Bunny soft toilet paper was used to wipe away the many tears that were shed.
Upon arrival at our first destination on our journey south I took my daughter and husband to the family bathroom to change Evangelina’s diaper (an amenity I took advantage of as often as I could in the U.S.). As I wadded up the old diaper to throw it away I fell apart in a sobbing mess. My husband threw me a confused look and said ever so compassionately with one eyebrow raised; “Really? Now?” I grabbed the nearest absorbing material I could find, which happened to be a sturdy paper towel.
Still clinging to the old soiled diaper, I thought about how the last diaper change that my daughter had was from my mom in Nebraska. I started thinking about how my mom changed my daughters very first diapers in the hospital since I couldn’t move after having had Evangelina. I thought about how the soiled diaper in my hand would be the last diaper my mom would have put on Evangelina (the next time we get to see each other Evangelina will most likely be potty trained). Clinging to the diaper even tighter and holding myself up on the changing table I began to sob uncontrollably. A wet mess of tears and snot, I grabbed a few more paper towels and wiped away at my face. If I were an avid scrapbooker I might have given a fleeting thought to saving the soiled diaper.
My loving husband didn’t know if he should laugh at me or cry with me. What he did do was say; “I don’t get it! What happened?” As I continued to wipe tears and snot away with the paper towels I wondered how I could explain the depth of sadness, regret, and ache a soiled diaper caused me and I summed it up into the following words; “I miss bunny soft toilet paper!” With those words, I showed him the rough, soggy, un-absorbent paper towel with one hand and threw the old diaper away with the other. We both laughed and hugged each other in the moment realizing that there is a lot to miss from home, and there was so much more to be thankful for.
Bunny soft toilet paper oddly reminds me that while there is a lot to miss, nothing compares to the people I miss. As I told my husband; “I know I will see them again, I don’t mourn loosing them, I mourn the moments in the year we don’t get to share together. I mourn the birthdays, the Christmases, the Easters, and the mundane Mondays with my family.” Even so, I am so thankful for every moment we did get to share with my family. They were moments that were treasured all the more for all the lost moments that we don’t get to share. I especially cherished the two Communions I was able to share with my family. Each worship was a celestial moment where I was strengthened and reminded that despite the distance, we share every Sunday when we share in the Lord’s Supper. Until we are reunited, I cling to the Lord’s promise to unite us in His Word and through His gifts. I know I will see them again. I cry for the earthly things and rejoice for the celestial promise that one day we will never have to part.

“Let us praise the Word Incarnate, Christ, who suffered in our place. Jesus died and rose victorious that we may know God by grace. Let us sing for joy and gladness, seeing what our God has done; Let us praise the true Redeemer, Praise the One who makes us one.” LSB 849 (Hope Publishing Co. 1987)

Jesus Tender

Every night before laying my baby girl in her crib at night, my husband and I practice the habit of praying with her. We first say the Lord’s Prayer and then we end with a prayer that my mom sang to me ever since I can remember. I don’t know the origins of the prayer but the words are as follows: 

Jesus tender, Shepherd hear me. Bless Thy little Evangelina tonight. Through the darkness be thou near her, keep her safe ‘till morning light. All this day Thy hand hath held her, and we thank Thee for Thy care. Thou has warmed her, clothed her, fed her, listen to her evening prayer, Amen, goodnight.

Most nights when we say this prayer together, melancholy sets in and I begin to reflect in the darkness of her nursery on what the words we recite mean for us in our daily lives to this tiny creature. 

Some nights the prayer catches me from the hustle and bustle of a long day come to a close and reminds me how quickly my baby girl will grow up and perhaps share the same prayer with her own little children.  Other nights I’m struck at was a precious gift we have in our arms and how uncertain each passing day can be. What I mean by that is; we don’t know how much time we are given to hold and love the ones we are blessed with and for that we entrust them to the care of our Lord. We raise them in a way that promises the hope of restoration for if they are taken from us, and we pray that God would hold them throughout long days and longer night. Every night as we pray; “Thou has warmed her, clothed her, fed her” I am held in aww at the truth in those words for us. Call it “karma, fate, kindness” or whatever else this modern co-exist culture prefers to call it, but I know it is nothing short of the hand of my God caring for my baby girl in ways we can not. 

The truth and reality is that by western American standards, Roberto and I should have never had a baby. We are not financially stable enough to support her, CPS would deem our house unfit for the raising of a little child, and my own body has seemed to reject the tasks of providing my baby with all that she needs and yet she is a healthy, happy baby with all that she needs and more. 

When I begin to worry about the number and quality of days that I have to hold my child, I try to remind myself of the many ways the Lord has provided thus far for my child. It calms my heart to know the very hands of God that work in and among His people to give them good things and provide them with all that they need and more are the very same hands that were nailed to a cross to grant us salvation. Length of days may be short and the quality of them may not be as pleasant as hoped but eternity is a precious gift we hold right now as a comfort. The provision for the length of our days is a reminder of that provision for eternity. He holds us now in the midst of struggles to bring us to Him for an eternity of joy in His presence. He remains with us through the darkness util the morning light and we thank Him for all that He gives us. 

Roberto and I are so thankful for all that the Lord has given us in 2017 and we are thankful for all of you who have loved us, supported us, and prayed for us. You certainly have shown us the mercy and care of our Lord through all that you do. May God bless you and your family in this new year. 

Matthew 6:25-34New King James Version (NKJV)

Do Not Worry

25 “Therefore I say to you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink; nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing? 26 Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? 27 Which of you by worrying can add one cubit to his stature?

28 “So why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; 29 and yet I say to you that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. 30 Now if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will He not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?

31 “Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ 32 For after all these things the Gentiles seek. For your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. 33 But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you. 34 Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.

Labor Pains

Evangelina's baptismal gown was made by her grandma using her wedding dress

July 22nd Evangelina Lucia was born 10:45 at night weighing 3.5 kilos. It was the “most incredible” experience. I planned everything out; Wait until contractions are 3-2 minutes apart and then go to the hospital so as not to drag the process out. Once in the hospital, I had meditative music to distract from the pain, and a nice crucifix on the wall to focus on when the contractions got hard (after all, if He could do that, then I could do this). I had essential oils to calm me, and my husband to support and admire the woman who would push new life from her birth giving hips into this world. 

I prayed leading up to the 22nd that God would grant me strength to view the labor as a chance to draw close to the cross and suffering of Christ. I prayed that in my suffering I would be able to recall the far greater sufferings of Christ and remember what it was that He did to give us life in Him. I had a plan that giving birth was going to be an all natural and spiritual experience for me where I would marvel at the gift of life that God gives and then also embrace suffering as means of being drawn closer to Christ. Plans rarely work out how I want them to no matter how much I perfectly prepare. 

Grandma and mom made the cake

After a few weeks of labor pains, off and on, we decided on the 22nd to go into the hospital to make sure everything was okay and to know for sure if there were any signs apart from the pain that could tell us how much longer I would have to endure everything. So that evening, after dinner, we went to pass by the hospital at about 9:00 at night. There weren’t any signs from my body for the midwife that said Evangelina was close but Evangelina was saying something else. The midwife wanted to check her heart-rate before letting us leave and in the process she found troubling that Evangelina’s heart-rate was way too high. She had me wait another ten minutes before checking again and she notified me that they would have to do an emergency cesarian. I immediately began to sob and tremble uncontrollably. Roberto and I prayed and I kept apologizing to my husband for not being able to bring our daughter into the world in a way that would be natural and allow for him to be present as well. I was terrified of the unplanned pain of a cesarian and the surrender of my body into the hands of the medical professionals over the natural process I had so meticulously planned. I was ready for natural birth, but nothing could prepare me for the shock and pain that came with having a cesarian. It was the unknown and uncontrollable for me.

blanket made by grandma with wedding dress

That is when I realized God had answered my prayer for strength. In the unknown and uncontrollable surrender to having Evangelina brought into the world in a way far more uncontrolled than I had wanted, I was surrendering to God. I depended more upon God to bring me through to the other side than I did on my birthing hips and a crucifix on the wall. I prayed without ceasing that my baby would be okay and that I would not go into shock for the traumatic experience my mind and body was going through in screaming “no! no! no!” while trying to do what I did not want to do. I was violently shaking while they took my clothes off in front of people passing by, I was separated from my loved ones and afraid of not having my cultural crutch of a husband by my side, it was labor without dignity (not that there are many labors with dignity). I decided the best thing I could do was to calm down and just give in to being numb of physical pain for two hours. I realized that the idea of my meditative labor and delivery was my idea of being drawn into the pain and suffering of Christ. I realized just how far from His suffering we often are in our minds and hearts all the while with good intentions of drawing close. 

Being led where we don’t want to go is often what it is that draws us closer to Christ. It is in those places where we realize that we do not draw close to Him but that He draws close to us. We cannot do for ourselves nor of our own be brought into Him and His suffering. It is by His grace that when we are in the midst of it all we realize, He has never left our side and He becomes all the more powerfully present as we realize what little control we really have in life. 

We thank and praise God for keeping Evangelina and I safe in the midst of labor and delivery and we also thank and praise God for brining her into this world. We rejoice all the more as this Sunday, Evangelina was brought into God’s family through the waters of Holy Baptism. Thank you so much to all of you who were praying for us, God was with us and we have made it to the other side. 

John 21:18New King James Version (NKJV)

18 Most assuredly, I say to you, when you were younger, you girded yourself and walked where you wished; but when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will gird you and carry you where you do not wish.”