The Newest Millers...

This is my brother Ryan and his newborn son, Christopher. I would show you a picture of his twin sister Taylor, but they are too disturbing. They were born a few months early. Christopher is doing great. I even have a picture of him sucking his thumb...

Taylor, however, is not doing good. In fact, she's not ok. She's got hydrocephalus. Which is a big long word for water on her brain. All of her bodily functions are completed through tubes. She's got bacteria in her belly which makes her tummy stiff that they are trying to knock out. She's been taken off feeding because her esophagus is not attached to her stomach. You can't pump a baby full of morphine, so while she is sedated all the time, she is in pain.

Hearing all this yesterday all I could do was cry. Cry for her. For her parents. I don't know this child. I've only recently talked to Ryan. And this little girl is tugging on my heartstrings. As I was painting last night she was on my mind. Can she, would she, survive being brought into the world like this?

I have random verses of scripture that hold me accountable, encourage me, and spur me on taped to my computer and desk at work. One of them has Isaiah 30:15,18 on it:

In repentence and rest is your salvation,
in quietness and trust is your strength....
The Lord longs to be gracious to you:
He rises to show you compassion.
For the Lord is a God of justice.
Blessed are all who wait for Him.

Trust. Oddly enough its a hard thing for me in my life. One of my top three. I trust Him to completely take care of everything for you. I ask Him in full confidence believing He'll work wonders in your life. Flip it to when I'm praying for me and asking for miracles, signs and wonders, and I feel selfish for asking. He says to wait on Him. I know He knows what is going on here. Nothings taking Him by surprise. That's one of the things I love about Him. He's even keel. No sudden letting go of me, or pushing me away when I just need Him to listen and hold me close. My tears don't catch Him off guard. He gave me this heart and isn't surprised when the crap of this world breaks it.

I may not be laughing at the days to come, but He'll do His will in this. So I will wait. I will trust.

My First Diaper Change!

So yesterday was Tuesday. Which meant I was babysitting. Except there were a whole lot more of them. I had three under the age of two and 8 older ones. A last minute 'please come help me I can't do this alone' came through, so that was wonderful. While last night was a bit crazy, a few things are noteworthy.

First, I changed my first diaper! The wee one I'm talking about usually gets changed right before her parents get there to take her home to bed. And she hates having her diaper changed. Wails like its the roughest thing on earth to get your tush clean. I'd been mentally gearing up for this all night. I knew she was going to pout and while I was sorry for that, she was not leaving that room without a fresh diaper.

Ok, game face on, its go time. I pick her up. I'd already prepped the changing table with wipes, a glove, and a few cookies in case of emergency. I lay her down and after she realizes what is happening, starts yelling. At this point I'm fighting with her bloomers and kind of treating this like a nascar pit stop. Be fast and efficient and get it over and done with. She's wailing so I just start talking to her. Not in a 'stop that right now tone of voice', but a soft, gentle, I know you don't like this but I'm right here and we'll get through this together tone of voice. I pretty much use the same technique with spooked horses. Soft tone, no jerky movements, calm, serene. And it worked! If I kept talking to her she was distracted enough to not yell. And the most surprising bit of all was that the diaper stayed on her. It didn't fall off!

I also realized that I have a favorite that I babysit. His name is Christian and he's cute as a button. He's 5 and he's a little brown-haired green eyed boy that tugs on my heartstrings. He's very polite and has some of the funniest tones of voice. Like when he's surprised. He says stuff like "wow, I can't believe that that just happened." He seriously cracks me up. And he's a fantastic listener, and he shares with the other kids. Gosh I could go on forever about what a good little boy he is.

I'm thankful that God lets me love these wee ones. He gives me opportunities to love on people daily and I hope I take advantage of all of them. I'd hate to miss an opportunity to love. But I'm gonna need to stop babysitting pretty soon. Otherwise I'm going to continue falling in love with those little ones. Which will lead me to wonder about my children. If I'll have any, what they would be like, look like, if I'll be young enough to run around with them, etc. Its a fear of mine that dreams about children don't glorify Him so I try to avoid anything that encourages that. Sigh, that's by far one of my most vulnerable slippery slopes. In the meantime, I'm surrounded by children, and my heart is light just being near them...

What it is...

So far here are some of the responses to what it could be:

• A redneck's bidet.
• Tub cleaner.
• Rinsing the toilet when you clean it.
• Spraying your friend in the shower.
• Maybe a guy lived there and that’s how he cleaned the bathroom.
• A "rig" to clean the tub.
• Something to assist washing kids.
  

I sent a picture to a few of my coworkers here. They are engineers so of course they are brilliant. I told them everything I know about it. That its a little odd looking and boy oh boy does it have a good amount of pressure behind that little "spigot".

One of our engineers is from Venezuela. She told me it was a bidet. That they are common there and look like that, connected to the toilet. She also said that they use them to wash babies. Shut the lid on the toilet and get a little plastic tub to wash the little ones.

So there you go. Last night I got sprayed in the face with a bidet.

What is That?

Look at this picture. What is that? Saturday night as I was ripping off wallpaper, I noticed this spigot thing. Frankly it was hard to miss with your face down there ripping stuff off the walls. I sit there for a minute looking at it. Was it a bidet? Was there like an elderly couple that need help washing? What is that? I go look in the master bathroom, its got one too!

Fast forward to tonight. Court and I are in the bathroom taping up edges to paint tomorrow. I get a picture to text to my sister of the toilet. I ask Court how the picture is. She doesn't like it. Here, let me hold it and you take a picture. So she holds up the spigot and smiles for the picture. I hold up my camera, and she squeezes the trigger. A jet spray of toilet water hits me smack in the face. I freeze. I'm completely grossed out. There's water dripping off of me. My hair, my face, my glasses, the wall. Courtney is looking at me, wondering what my reaction is going to be. She told me she thought the water was turned off cuz of some water problems in the kitchen. I explained to her as I'm wiping off my glasses that the water line to the fridge was turned off, not all the water. After the initial gross-out factor of being sprayed with something connected to a toilet, the only thing I could do was laugh. And laugh we did! It was hilarious.

Seriously though, what is that?!

Addendum: No one seems to know what this is... And that is awesome in its own right. Not sure its awesome enough to keep in the house, but it sure makes for a fun story. As does my inability to spell the word "spigot".

Wait, I'm Married?!

I don't want Jesus to be my husband. Now before you get upset and pray for my salvation, give me a minute to express my opinion...

Growing up in church I have heard a lot of analogies about the church. The church as a body, the church as a flock of sheep, the church as a bride and Jesus as the bridegroom. I have no problem with analogies, they helped me learn how important I was to Him and how He wants to care for me. I understand the mentality of Jesus being a husband. He wants to care for my every need, loves every curl on my head, and wants to provide for me. As a girl in church you are taught that you are delicate and your husband will want to treat you as such. But until you are married, Jesus is the Man in your life. (Yeah, not getting married has never been an option in the churches I grew up in... That's a different blog for a different day.)

I don't think Jesus wants to marry me. And that's more than fine. I wouldn't want to limit or water down His love for me by tacking on the tag of 'my earthly husband'. Let's take a walk into my psyche. I'm not a counting down till my wedding day kind of girl. I don't watch lots of sweeping romances where the girl is lovely and the guy is a knight in shining armor. I don't think romantic love is like that. I think relationships take elbow grease, communication, a heaping pile of grace, and a foundation in Him. And that's just my idea of dating. When it comes to my husband, I think he will be a gift from God. And the earthly example of His pure and true love for me. That doesn't mean I think he will be perfect, or not get frustrated with me, or ever make a mistake. I can nag, whine, and weep with the best of them. And I think he will still love me. Because when he looks at me, I would hope he would see a little of what Jesus sees in me. That's what I want my husband to be. Someone who loves me for me with all the quirks, randomness, and blushes that come along the way as I become the woman He's calling me to be.

So, if I don't want Jesus to be my husband, what do I want Him to be? I want Him to be my Lord. My God. My King. I want Him to have my heart. Yes, my husband will be the only man on this earth who has my heart. God will still have complete ownership. And somehow I think the both of them will be ok with that.