Why doesn’t God just kill Satan?

“Why doesn’t God just kill Satan?”

It was another conversation in a car ride. It’s just inevitable. I put on music, I want to lose myself in my own thoughts, but the kids constantly drag me back to the now. And then drop questions on me like this.

“God, give me wisdom,” I think to myself. And I know he does. (James 1:5)

My five-year-old son is obsessed with superhero’s and the bad guys associated with them. In fact, I think there’s a small part of him that’s rooting for the snake in the Garden story! So when he asked this question, it wasn’t in a wistful “I-wish-God-would-just-finish-off-Satan-for-good” kinda way. It was a little more taunting, like “If God is so powerful, why doesn’t he just kill the bad guy?”

I understood this question. It’s one we all ask, isn’t it? Just maybe in a little more mature way: If God is so powerful and good, why is there pain? Why is there sin? Why do bad things happen to good people?

And believe me, I am not here to answer those questions! (Those are questions worth pondering, but I don’t think anyone has all the those answers. And that’s OK.)

By now, my daughter, the rule-follower, picked up the questions out of genuine curiosity and maybe concern. So I needed some sort of reply...

“Well, God will defeat Satan in the end,” I said, dropping some truth on them, while trying to stall for a good answer. “But in the meantime, if there was no sin in the world, there would be no way for us to choose God. Like in the Garden of Eden, Adam and Eve knew and loved God, but they still had to choose every day not to eat the forbidden fruit. If they didn’t have that option, it wouldn’t have been a choice to obey God.”

Silence. 

“Do you know what I mean that we have to have a choice?”

Blank looks.

“OK, let’s say Audrey really likes a boy so she decides to make him a love potion. She gives him the love potion and he immediately falls in love with her. But it’s not real love, he didn’t really have a choice. It’s all because of the potion. Now Audrey, would you rather that person love you with the love potion or without?”

For a while there were just giggles and horrified looks at the thought of a boy liking her (or her liking a boy!), but finally she answered: “Without.”

“Why?” I asked. (Honestly this was the hardest part. I want to keep talking, to explain. But I was really trying to get them there on their own.)

“Because it’s not real if he’s had a potion. He doesn’t really have a choice to love me.”

“Exactly! So if God killed Satan and we lived with no sin, there would be no choice but to love and serve God! We would be more like robots than people with minds of our own.”

I think the conversation ended there, but my mind stayed on the topic for a while. I know that sin has consequences, and that is why there is so much pain in the world. But it is also amazing to me how God can even redeem sin and use it for his glory and our good. 

And it’s amazing to me that He shows up in these car rides, when I’m tired and even a little annoyed at all the questions. He still shows up, and the results are priceless.

The Weirdness of Motherhood

Last night I had a not-too-unusual experience that perfectly encapsulates what a friend has recently called “the weirdness of motherhood”. I had never thought about how weird motherhood was until I heard that phrase and since then I’ve been recognizing it in everything! 

At around 4am my son came to me crying about a spider in his bed. Agreeing with him that yes, that is indeed terrifying, but reassuring him that it was a dream, I encouraged him to go back to bed. (Actually it was more like “huh? Dream! Bed!”) But instead, he climbed into bed with us, and I was too tired to argue. 

What happened next is a perfect example of the weirdness of motherhood. Let me paint you a picture. 

Not shown in this little cartoon is that at one point, I was actually missing my daughter and wishing she would join us in the bed! And literally the next second - almost simultaneously even! - I was wishing my son was back in his bed and I could go to sleep. It’s like wanting to be thin and wanting to eat an entire tray of brownies at the same time! (Another oxymoron in my life.)

Whatever stage of motherhood we are in, we want them gone and we want them back. We want snuggles and we want our own space. We want to hold them forever, but we are training them to leave. So I suppose in the end, we have to concentrate on the good stuff and roll with the bad. I’m thankful that my son kept me up last night and I could capture a beautiful sleeping boy picture. But I’m also thankful he doesn’t do that most nights. I guess that’s the key: being thankful whatever the circumstances. 

1 Thessalonians 5:18

What I've Learned from Audrey: A Work in Progress

I started writing a post entitled "What I've Learned from Audrey" and had so many points listed out, I thought instead that it could be a series, of which this is the second. When I first started writing that post, I'll be honest, it was just to get one done in the month of May. But it really caused me to start thinking about the past two years, all I've learned, and how much I've changed through motherhood. And once in a while, a little introspection is probably a good thing. One of the scariest things about motherhood is the burden that we carry to pass on every lesson that we've learned the hard way and the knowledge of the impossibility of the task and the fact that our children will probably have to learn their own lessons the hard way, anyway! But I know in this short time that I do have with my daughter, I can make a (hopefully!) positive impact on her life.

I have to be so careful about what I say, or even how I perceive myself, because whether I want her to or not, Audrey will emulate me, especially in her youth. I want her to be confident, to love Jesus, to be compassionate and forgiving, among so many other things. Because of that, I have to be those things as well.

Even at two years old, I already see trying to be like me. Sometimes it's wonderful, like when she hugs me tightly and says, "I love you sooo much!" which is exactly what I say to her. Sometimes it's just in her expressions or silliness. But I know the time is coming when I'll recognize in her something that's not good in me.

I guess, in her own way, Audrey is teaching me to live the way I should have been living all along. By pursuing Jesus, by being healthier, by being kind, by prioritizing my time. It's still a struggle, but now I not only see the results in my own life, but in her's as well. So this burden that I carry is pushing me to improve myself and be the best mother I can be.

I feel the need to quote Frasier here:

F: "I meant burden in it's nicest sense!" F's dad: "As in, 'gee, what a lovely burden!'??"

This is indeed a "lovely burden".

Related: What I've Learned from Audrey: Love

The First Five Weeks

We have had an eventful few weeks here, and not just the ordinary busy-ness of taking care of a newborn!  In order to catch you up on things, I will provide a brief update, week by week (and keep in mind, this is all on almost no sleep!). Week 1 (of Audrey's life):  Audrey has high bilirubin levels, so we visit Pediatrician daily to get her heel pricked for blood tests. Levels continue to rise, so we are ordered off breast milk and onto formula for 3 days.  I pump 10x per day to build up my supply.

Week 2: Levels decline a bit, so we go back to breast milk.  Difficult transition from bottle and Audrey loses weight.  Pediatrician is worried about weight loss and hears a heart murmur.  Sends us to Pediatric Cardiologist and hospital for special blood work to see if she has a metabolic disorder.  Pediatric Cardiologist finds two congenital heart defects that will need to be monitored (and fixed, if not healed by one-year).  All blood work comes back normal, so we continue almost daily Pediatrician visits to monitor weight gain.

Week 3: Audrey gains weight, but not enough.  Agree to visit Lactation Consultant.  Ryan's parents come to visit.

Week 4: I have horrible stomach pains and visit emergency room.  Have "a lot of gallstones" and will need surgery immediately, but won't be able to breastfeed for a month.  I ask to delay surgery so I can pump to build up enough milk to last that month.

Ryan comes home with 103 degree fever.  I quarantine him to guest room so he can't infect me or Audrey.

Speak to lactation consultant, who says breastfeeding won't need to be delayed a whole month, and probably none at all, besides recovery time.  I am in a lot of pain and wish I had gotten surgery right away.

Audrey continues to gain, but still not enough.

Week 5:  Ryan begins to feel better.

I have an appointment to meet with surgeon. Audrey has appointment with Pediatrician(6 week check-up). We both have appointment with lactation consultant. I have appointment with obstetrician (6 week check-up).

We'll see how things go!

Through it all, I have felt so thankful for all the blessings in our lives: for the kind medical professionals we have encountered along the way, especially at St. Vincent's hospital; for the lactation consultants, and even for Audrey's weight loss that led me to them in the first place, so that they could help me deal with breastfeeding and surgery (otherwise, I wouldn't have nursed for a month!); for everyone's kind help and prayers; and most of all, for our parents, who have helped cook and clean and watch Audrey as we deal with our own health issues!  I feel like I have seen God's Providence at work in the midst of all this and can only praise him for taking care of us even when things feel overwhelming.

"The Lord is my strength." Psalm 28:7

Audrey's Birth Story

As you may or may not know, our daughter was born February 19.  I thought I'd share some of the (less gory) details of her birth day here on the blog.  Be warned though, it's still not for the faint-of-heart (ie. men).  I do have a non-edited version.  For those of you interested in reading that, you can contact me. On Thursday morning, February 17,we had an appointment for an ultrasound at the hospital.  It showed a 7 lb., 10 oz. baby girl.  I was excited to have the sex of the baby reaffirmed, because we were given probably hundreds of baby girl clothes, all of which had their tags removed and had been washed!

Thursday night and into Friday morning, I started to feel cramps.  They were coming about every hour, but not very intense, so I wasn’t sure what was going on.

At my doctor’s appointment Friday morning, the doctor said it was unlikely that I would be going into labor any time soon (presumably because it was still over a week from my due date and I’m a first timer), but he said “who knows.”  Well, I felt like he should!  He never even checked me to see if I was effaced or dilated.

I went home and the contractions faded and seemed to stop by a little after noon.  Then around 3pm, they started again and were a bit more painful.  I decided to start timing them.  They were coming approximately every hour, but soon became much more frequent.  By 4:30, I texted Ryan and said perhaps he should come home because they were coming every 4-6 minutes, but I didn’t think it would be a while yet because they were not very intense.  I don’t think he even noticed the last part, because he dropped everything and left work to come home.  It was the first time I saw him anxious!

The contractions continued every 4-6 minutes and gradually became more painful.  We finally decided to call my parents and ask them to come and get Hugo just in case we had to leave for the hospital that night.  When they came, my mom wanted to stay long enough for me to get a contraction.  I felt like I was the evening’s entertainment!  It wasn’t long before people watching was no longer a concern!

I didn’t want to leave for the hospital yet, although Ryan was impatient to do so.  I said I’d rather sit and watch “Community”.  So we watched, the contractions getting so bad that we would have to pause and I’d have to get on my hands and knees to be able to bear them.  I finally called the doctor and, as it was after hours, the doctor had to call me back.  Of course, it was the doctor that I least liked in the practice!  He asked all the usual questions, which I answered and then said, “Well, do you want to go to the hospital?”  I didn’t know!  I said, “I want to do whatever I should be doing!”  “Well, do you want to go, or do you want to stay home a bit longer?” I finally said I’d stay home and asked how much longer I should give it.  He said about an hour and see how the contractions were at that point.  So we turned on “The Office”, but about halfway through, the pains were so bad I decided to call the doctor again.  I told him the contractions were very intense, so he said we should go.  (I think Ryan was relieved.  He probably hadn’t been enjoying “Community” or “The Office” very much, anyway.)

Once at the hospital, I changed into a gown and was checked out.  Three cm dilated!  They asked if I’d be wanting an epidural and I said yes, eventually.  So I labored a couple more hours and said I’d want it soon, but wanted to know how far along I was first.  Only 4cm...  Several hours of intense pain for 1cm?  Yes, I was ready for an epidural.  Plus, I had started vomiting from the pain and nausea.

The epidural was more painful than I expected, but at least I didn’t have to look.  They asked Ryan to leave the room, because they couldn’t take care of him fainting while they were working on me!

With the epidural in place, I could finally sleep.  It was around 1am at that point.  Ryan slept for a while, too.  Around 4am, they checked me again and I was only at 5cm!  At that point, I stopped feeling guilty for getting the epidural earlier than I wanted, because I wouldn’t have gotten any sleep for the past several hours and it only got me one more centimeter.

After sleeping on and off, I began to feel the pain coming back around 9am.  They checked me and found I was at 7cm!  This is the “transition” phase, and supposedly the most painful of all contractions.  I was afraid of really feeling the pain and I thought that if it had taken me so long to get the past 3cm, it could take that many hours to get the final three, so I asked for a booster to the epidural... big mistake.

The pain was completely gone and I was ready to sleep some more, but around 10am they checked me again, and I was ready to start pushing!  Well, I could push and push, but really had no idea if I was doing anything down there.  After about an hour, we took a break to see if the booster would wear off a bit so I could feel more of an urge to push.  Eventually, it did, but not nearly enough.  I was making no progress and they began to get worried about the baby’s heart rate.  I was also running a fever.  After a lot of deliberation, I told them to turn off the epidural, hoping to get her out before it completely wore off.

Soon the contraction pain came back, not too painful, but enough to know when to push, so we started again.  Still no progress, so we waited even more.  Finally, the pain intensified and pushing worked a bit more.  The nurses could tell she had a head full of hair!

By noon, the pain was horrifying and I hadn’t made any more progress.  I was exhausted already, so my pushes weren’t useful.  The doctor came in and said the baby was positioned a little badly, which is why my back pain was so bad.  He started to turn her with every contraction, but even the turning was horrible, horrible pain.  I also began to get a charlie horse in my right thigh, so grabbing my legs and crunching up got that much worse!  Ryan was massaging my leg between each contraction, but it didn’t help much.  He kept trying to encourage me to keep going, but I would look at him with tears in my eyes and beg him to let me stop.  He began to tear up as well, because he knew he couldn’t do anything for me and he felt so badly.  His tears helped to spur me on a bit, but it still wasn’t enough.

Finally, I asked for my mom to come in.  (At this point, you don’t care that everyone can see everything!)  I told her in tears that they had to turn my epidural off.  My eyes were swollen from all the pushing, so I could hardly turn them to look at her.

I was sobbing, and begging the nurses for pain medication and they kept refusing me, telling me she wouldn’t come out if I couldn’t feel the contractions.  I started begging the doctor for another way.  I told them I couldn’t go on any longer.  What felt like crowds of nurses came in to start cheering me on!  But I was sobbing and pleading and groaning so much that I hardly noticed.  It’s amazing how my entire personality changed!  Normally, I am very inhibited, but under those circumstances, inhibitions no longer mattered!

I kept asking how much progress I had made and kept hearing that I'd made virtually none.  I kept asking how much longer it would take, but no one would give me any guesses.  Finally, after what felt like hours and hours, the doctor said if I could give them good, productive pushes, she would be out by 1:40.  That was all I needed: a deadline!  Later I said even if they had been lying to me, I needed to have something to work towards, because it felt like nothing was happening!

I began to push hard, even though I thought I had before.  They let me move to my right side, which helped a bit with the charlie horses.  Soon, the contractions were only seconds apart and people began to prepare for the baby.  That helped me keep going!  I heard Ryan exclaiming about the head (I don’t think I’d ever heard him more excited or amazed) and before I knew it, Audrey Elizabeth had arrived, weighing 6 lb, 15 oz.  It was 1:41pm.

It was extremely emotional and I couldn’t hold back the tears.  There was a sense of pride and accomplishment, and also unreality.  How could this little person be the one that was in me for so long?  How could I love her so much, but still feel like she was a little stranger?  It was all very surreal.

Even now, I can’t look at her without feeling such a surge of love and unbelief.  I can only hope to be the kind of mother that she deserves.

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First family photo (me with very swollen face!)

Prayer

Sometimes I wonder if my baby can hear me when I pray.  I always whisper my prayers because it makes me feel more like I’m having a conversation with God.  Also, I find that my mind wanders a lot less when I pray out loud. So today after I said, “Amen”, I wondered if the baby had heard all that.  And then I wondered if maybe the baby knew who I was talking to, because in its extreme innocence, maybe the only clarity is about its Creator.  The Bible does talk about having faith like little children, because we are more accepting at that age and grow more and more cynical as we grow up.  Maybe babies in the womb are the most accepting because they have actually met their Creator.  In one of the books I’m reading, it mentions that no one still knows how the cells know how and where to divide to become a baby.  But I know: it’s a miracle from God; He is directing their creation and giving them life.  And maybe my baby knows that, too.

It probably all sounds ridiculous.  But being a Christian and having a baby growing inside me has made me more and more in awe of my God.

First Ultrasound

Tomorrow is my first ultrasound and I’m surprisingly nervous!  It never occurred to me how nervous I’d be about everything during pregnancy, but I am.  So today I searched “nervous about first…” in Google and to my surprise and delight “nervous about first ultrasound”, “nervous about first prenatal visit”, and “nervous about first prenatal appointment” were among top things searched!  I immediately felt better because that showed me that I certainly wasn’t alone.  And how true that was!  I read several forums and it turns out that it’s very common to be nervous about ultrasound appointments.  I guess the thought of finding out that something is wrong is the cause of it. My nausea has also started in the last couple days.  I’m more and more impressed with woman who have horrible nausea and have to work full-time.  But anyway, I was actually happy that I have another symptom because it makes me feel like things are progressing normally.  Plus, I have told myself that I do not want to complain about anything with regards to being pregnant, because I’m just so happy that I am!

I got two pieces of encouragement with regards to the nausea: my aunt says, “I’m glad to hear you’re feeling sick.  Not glad for YOU.  I remember that and it was not at all fun.  But it really is true that it means the baby’s hormones are kicking in and that makes me happy.”  I also got a text from a friend that said, “I’m sorry! But the good news is that if you have nausea, it lowers the chance of a miscarriage.”

So I guess this post is about being encouraged and finding encouragement in expected and unexpected places.  And that’s sorta why I’m writing this blog.  I wish my mother could remember more of her pregnancy experiences, so I thought maybe if I have a daughter, she can read my experiences someday and be encouraged.