Life of a Pilgrim

Bring the rain

I had every intention of getting on tonight and sharing a fun project for the nursery that I want YOU to be a part of.

But at the moment that’s not where my heart is.

A week ago, Kristin Wall and her mom Deb Stennes were settling into our room at the Ronald McDonald house for an impromptu sleepover. Throughout these past months Kristin has become much more than just a photographer capturing my birth story. She’s become a dear, dear friend. And her presence with us throughout every hour of labor and delivery bonded us in such a deep way that I have no doubt she will be a close friend throughout many years to come. She was the one who was pacing the halls with me in the middle of the night. She held my hands as my epidural was placed to give relief to my needle-phobic husband. I can still see the exact expression on her face when I turned to her in the disbelief and overwhelming emotion of having my daughter, breathing, placed in my arms for the first time.

So when I found out this evening that fires were once again raging here in central Washington, and that Kristin was once again being evacuated – driving away from not just her home, but the home of ministry and refuge that she’s just completing – just a mere year after a terrible firestorm tore through her area…my heart just sank. It just seems too much too soon in an area still trying to rise from the ashes.

And so I’m calling on you, you faithful multitude, to hit your knees again in prayer. Pray for mercy. Pray for rain. Pray for the safety of those evacuating and the safety of those fighting the flames. Pray for the Lord to be glorified.

We’ll talk nurseries later.

April 9th

On April 9th, Jeff wrote a letter to Poppy, his sweet daughter whom he had just found out might not be able to survive in this world. At the time I sobbed when I read the following words:

Selfishly hoping that God will work a miracle, we will install another car seat in the beast just prior to delivering. We will hope and pray for the best, recognizing that we have no control over your destiny and that our understanding is finite. You are in the good hands of the Father and the days of your life are known to him. But oh, how I want to bring you home, Poppy, where cuddles with mom, dad and sister will be abundant and Ellie will apply her kisses directly to your face. She will tell you all about animals. And doggies. And the noises doggies make. She might even tell you about the “monkey.” Curious George is a big hit in our house. Mom will do her baby swing and rock you into a blissful sleep as only she can do. Daddy will try to do his best not to mess up, but forgive him as he means well. There will be laughing, tears of joy and a dissipation of all the fears and tension that the terrible T-word brought. What a celebration we would have.

Four months to the date after that was written, our Arabella Grace was born. Screaming. Breathing.

Today, August 12th, we will drive home. With a car seat in the beast. And a baby in the car seat. And a sister waiting at home to plant kisses on her cheeks.

And oh the celebration we will have. 

There is much to tell. I will likely never be able to fully express the depth and length and breadth of the Lord’s grace that has, in broad strokes and minute strokes, been poured out in the past few days. But I will try – when I actually have Internet and more than a few hours of sleep in me. I must try, because His story is a story too great not to be told.

But for now, all I can say is thank you. Oh how inadequate those two little words are! You have striven with us in prayer, which means today? This is your day to celebrate with us as well.

Watch out Wenatchee. Here we come!

Arabella Grace is here!

Arabella Grace entered the world at 12:32 pm on August 9, 2015.  She weighs 7 lbs and is taking big beautiful breaths all on her own! There’s not much else to report at this point, but we will keep you updated with her progress. 

– (Kasey Johnson for Katherine and Jeff)

Release

“I know that you can do all things; no purpose of yours can be thwarted. You asked, ‘Who is this that obscures my plans without knowledge?’ Surely I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know.
“You said, ‘Listen now, and I will speak; I will question you, and you shall answer me.’ My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have seen you. Therefore I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes.” – Job 42:2-6

“I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.” – Psalm 27

There is absolutely nothing about yesterday that went as planned. Read More

Waiting

In case you haven’t heard the news, Arabella has not made her debut today.

We called in for our hospital arrival time at 7:45 this morning. Bags packed. Hearts and minds focused.

They said there were a lot of deliveries and we likely wouldn’t be starting until 11. They would call us back.

At 11 we got a call notifying us that every single NICU room was occupied, so induction would be postponed until tonight, or more likely, Saturday morning.

In other words, your prayer vigil has not ended yet. We’re thankful to serve a compassionate God whom we can come before honestly to say, “We know this is good, but we don’t understand how it is good.”

Look for more updates tomorrow, and keep praying. So ready to kiss our sweet girl’s cheeks.

In the meantime, this song has been on repeat today.

Sufficient

I’m currently perched on the bathroom floor, pillows propped up behind me. It’s the only “separate” room in our accommodations here. As Jesus called for me to come and sit with Him in the early hours of this morning, I knew I could not refuse, but I also knew that I didn’t want to disturb the much needed rest of my husband. And so I write from here. Swollen belly hanging over the keyboard, Bible perched on top of the toilet. Even bathrooms can be holy places.

Last night, in the throes of a massive head cold that came on full force yesterday, I was struggling to see how this latest development (my husband, watching me pull another tissue from the box, tenderly commented that I was a “hot mess”) had been lovingly chosen and given for this time. And so I pulled out the book that has carried and ministered to Jeff and I through this season, Streams in the Desert, longing for some proclamation of how God will triumph for good. I was looking for threads of hope and victory. Read More

All gone (alternatively titled, Ready, Set, Pray)

Eliana’s vocabulary has been exploding of late. This weekend I was amazed at how many new words – and word combinations – she had developed in just the week I had been apart from her. I did a double take when she correctly proclaimed at an opportune moment, “What happened?” Sadly, in the midst of this explosion, a lot of her cute “Ellie-isms” are falling to the wayside.

But a few linger. The girl still uses “up” and “down” interchangeably and incorrectly. And “all gone” still is used both for its intended purpose and all done. Communicating her desire that her arch nemesis in life, the vacuum cleaner, be removed from sight? “All gone!” Communicating that despite her parents’ opinion to the contrary, she is finished with her meal? “All gone!” Read More

A request

Tonight I’m not going to even try to articulate all I’m feeling. I honestly just don’t have it in me.

Instead, I’m going to make a request of you.

We toured the labor and delivery floor today, as well as the NICU, at the UW. In some ways, it’s helpful to now be able to picture where delivery day is going to happen, and to know a bit more about the process. In other ways, this increased knowledge is incredibly difficult because that day – and everything that hangs on it – is that much more real. Read More

Over the mountains – one last time

We’re about to head over the mountains again. Only this time I’ll stay put. Tomorrow morning we’ll see Arabella inside the womb one last time before finally meeting her.

Sitting at lunch today both Jeff and I commented on the surreal nature of the day. We sat there eating knowing that our family would never be the same again. Regardless of outcome. Read More