Seven Months Later

Here I am again. Contrary to my last post I am not grieving anymore. In fact, I am celebrating new life. My two-week-old son sits next to me in his bouncey seat listening to ocean waves and (hopefully) drifting off to sleep. During my pregnancy I just couldn't bring myself to blog and, at times, I wondered if I'd lost my blog voice all together. I'm not sure that anything I write these days brings a whole lot of profundity, but at least (and probably at most) I'm interested in any insights I can pull out from these sleep-deprived, constantly talking about what kind/color and how many diapers Myles has, heart-gushing-with-love days at the Youngman house.

Several times throughout my pregnancy I wondered if I had enough love to give a second child. My heart spills over with love for my little girl so much that I almost mourned the loss of time with her I knew was impending with a second child on the way. I wondered how any heart could be that big. Then I remembered one of my favorite passages of Scripture: Romans 5:1-5. Indeed, "God pours his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit which is given us". I didn't have enough love on January 31, but the minute I met my little Myles on February 1, God poured his love into my heart. I loved him so much and I was dying to see my daughter and share all of the excitement and love with her. The other day I was sitting on the couch holding Myles with Gracie curled up next to me. I nearly burst with fullness and joy. And then it hit me: I spend my days and energy trying to work out my theology, reading and talking about what it means to follow Jesus. I talk all around a truth that I miss because I forget its realness. God is as interested in me as I am in what my newborn son's diaper contains. God looks at his children and feels like I did that night on the couch. As much as I love my children and my life--as full as I feel right now, God loves us, loves me, more. I hope I don't soon forget that when I get back to my analytical ways.