Why I Actually Love Christmas Music

I know, I know.

Christmas Music.

You're probably already over it. Shoot, I am too. Way over it. Over it before it was even December. See, because when the radio stations start playing it NON-STOP (really? why?) it gets really old, really fast. Totally fun for the first day or so, but after that...come on already!

Side Note: I have a few simply brilliant (in my humble, modest opinion) solutions to this dilemma of the over-whelming amount of Christmas music. But no one listens to me. I guess, maybe I should suggest it to someone other than my darling husband.

Moving on.

So, besides the fun "Frosty the Snowman" (how do I still not know all the words to this one?!?!) and the sentimental "I'll be Home for Christmas" and the slightly comical, yet oh, so true "They Don't Have White Christmases in Houston" most everything else holds a moment of nostalgia wrapped up in the obnoxiousness of repetition.

But there are a few that just never seem to get old. Only a few that cause me to pause and close my eyes (unless I'm behind the wheel, of course) and move my heart and my spirit into a whirlwind of worship. There are a few Christmas songs that just seem to really articulate what it's all about.

Have you ever really stopped and listened to the words of "O Holy Night"?

O Holy night, the stars are brightly shining
It is the night of our dear Savior's birth
Long lay the world in sin and error pining
'Til He appeared and the soul felt its worth
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn (!!!!!!!!)
Fall on your knees

O hear the angel voices
O night divine!
O night when Christ was born
O night divine!
O night, O night divine!


Truly He taught us to love one another,
His law is love and His gospel is peace.
Chains He shall break, for the slave is our brother.
And in His name, all oppression shall cease
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we
Let all within us praise His holy name
Christ is the Lord!





And what about "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen?"

God rest ye merry, gentlemen
Let nothing you dismay
Remember, Christ, our Saviour
Was born on Christmas day
To save us all from Satan's power
When we were gone astray
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy
O tidings of comfort and joy

This is some powerful stuff, y'all. And I don't know about you, but I desperately need the truth of these carols to permeate the very depths of my spirit and my attitude. (Especially when I'm in the car. Driving around in the ever-enjoyable Houston traffic. Who doesn't need an attitude adjustment after that?) 

There are several other songs that belong only in the Christmas season that just do something to me. (Have you ever been pregnant and full of wild hormones during the Christmas season and listened to "Breath of Heaven'? Not enough tissues in the house, okay?)

So, listen. I'm with you. If I hear "It's the Holiday Season" or "The Christmas Shoes" one more time, I may or may not lose it. But it's the classics, the hymns, full and bursting with truth like these that at lease attempt to give articulation to what we're really celebrating here. 

The fact that Jesus, the very and only Son of God, came to this miserable earth as a squirmy, wrinkly, utterly tiny babe. That He grew up sinless. That He revolutionized the Law. That He gave His life for us, as undeserving as we are. And that He rose again. He came first as a babe, but He's coming back as a Conquering King.

This is what we celebrate.

And this is why we sing.

Merry Christmas. God bless us, Every One.

A Little Saturday Honesty

Today, we're packing.

More out of a need for continued hope and faith than anything else.

I keep thinking of those 10 days after my due date with Josiah. Shouldn't he have already been here by now? Is today the day? What am I supposed to do with my life if it isn't today? Can I actually make any plans for tomorrow? What if he decides to come tomorrow? What if he doesn't ? Am I really even ready yet for him to come?

And the daily questions from sweet, thoughtful, well-meaning people remind me also of those terribly uncertain days before birth. Nobody likes to say, "I don't know." Everybody likes to have all the answers to all the questions.

Well, I don't have all the answers. And that's perfectly okay. Right?

And what answers I do have are so much more complicated and lengthy than what most people truly care to hear.

I've really had to let The Lord temper my attitude lately. I've really had to surrender my "right" to whine and complain and feel sorry for myself. And sadly, I do still whine and complain and feel oh, so sorry for myself way too often. Lord, help me.

If I remember correctly, those long, terribly uncertain 10 days before birth ended in some of the most joyous beauty I've ever experienced in my entire life. I won't lie. It was tough. It was even sometimes painful...kinda like now. But boy, did we celebrate.

And we will celebrate again. We'll celebrate the goodness and the faithfulness and the trustworthiness of God in our lives. And we'll thank Him for teaching us more about peace and patience and rest in Him. And we'll thank Him for, yet again, loving us enough to refine our character.

Just a little honesty from my heart today.

Fall Fun 2012

I LOVE, love, love the Fall!!! With the cooler weather, yummy treats, sweaters and scarves and the numerous opportunities for cute photo ops!

And Josiah is at such a fun age that he's really enjoying the season as well.

This last weekend, we began our Halloween celebrations (no, we do NOT celebrate evil, but we do celebrate cuteness and fun and costumes and memories) with our annual Chili Cook-Off and Costume Party with our Chi Alpha group on Friday night. This is always one of my very favorite events of the entire year and a super fun way for our friends to invite their friends to something fun and casual and not intimidating. Plus, who doesn't love to have an excuse to dress up in a creative costume and eat some yummy chili?

Here is our family costume:

2012

I always try to have a theme, if I can help it. Last year's costume kinda stunk because Josiah was sick and I had JUST started work that day. For comparison's sake, last year's "costume":

2011

But the year before that (2010) was, by far, the best costume year!

On Saturday, we just kind-of lazed around the house most of the day (because we all really, really needed to do just that.) But the weather was gorgeous and I knew the season of pumpkins was almost over, so we decided sorta last-minute to take Josiah out to Dewberry Farm. We (my parents, sister and I...Matt was gone somewhere) took Josiah last year and we all had fun, but it was significantly more fun for him this year. Still a little overwhelming with all the people and all the different things to do. But he had a blast! And I was even able to get a few really decent pictures out of it.

 

 

 

And again, pictures from last year at Dewberry Farm for comparison's sake: 

 I hope to be able to take him back there every year. I know he'll have more and more fun as the years go by.

Happy Fall to Y'all!

A Cute, Cop-Out Post

I need to write a new post. If for no other reason but to move that hideous lovely little image below to a less prominent spot. I realize I had just given birth and all, but I just can't agree that that's my best look.

I truly have a million different posts in my head that I could write, but very little energy to do the necessary work to accomplish that (good posts need appropriate pictures, right?). So instead, you're just gonna get a few flashback photos of my little boy when he was still...well...little.

Clean little ducky after his very first bath at home. (Darn thing won't rotate.)

Look at my big muscles!

"Yay! I'm even cuter now that I've learned to smile."

Happy little nakie boy.

Learning how to sit up all by myself.

Food is good.

I do have a few good posts in the works. Topics about what's been going on around here lately (A LOT of change), what I'm enjoying this summer, what Josiah's been enjoying this summer, things I found in my car. You know, hard-hitting, riveting material. You won't wanna miss it.

Mother's Day: Then and Now

Here is a picture of what my Mother's Day looked like last year:

I got my very first breakfast-in-bed on Mother's Day complete with some beautiful flowers (from the hospital and my in-laws).

So grateful for how time changes things and grows us. I was so naive and clueless in that first picture. I still kinda am, but OH! how much I've learned since then!

Last year on Mother's Day, we got to bring our little guy home from the hospital. I was so thrilled and anxious to be home with him and to start playing "house."  He, on the other hand, enjoyed my womb the hospital a little more than home at that point. Just getting everything together and organized to leave the hospital had been quite the production and by the time we actually got home, he was a screaming tyrant in the backseat. And pretty much stayed that way the whole day and wouldn't eat...at all. I had been so naive and so determined to breastfeed that I had not even registered for bottles. They send home tons of free formula from the hospital, but even if I had wanted to give it to him, (I absolutely did NOT want to give it to him) I had no vehicle for it. I remember my mom and my sister running to the nearest store to buy the cheapest bottle they could find.

And then after a few hours of helping us get settled and somewhat adjusted, they left. And it was just the 3 of us. At home. Alone. Our little family. I think Matt and I were both elated and terrified. And already horribly exhausted.

What a memorable first Mother's Day!

And here we are about a year later:

He's healthy and alive. And so am I. Thank the Lord! Ha!

I had such a sweet day with my boys! We went to church that morning and came home for a brief time because we were planning to meet with Matt's family a little later. (We had already celebrated Mother's Day with my family the day before, after celebrating Allison's graduation.) Josiah fell asleep in the car and Matt and I both accidentally fell assleep at home, but woke up to join his parents and Josh and Kimberly for lunch. Such a great time with them! I'm so grateful for such a wonderful family of in-laws.

We really had no plans for that evening which is quite odd for us for a Sunday evening, so we took a spontaneous trip to get some frozen yogurt. And of course, Josiah enjoyed some as well. I think we've created a little frozen yogurt monster.

I absolutely love being a Mommy and every day truly is Mother's Day with these guys, but it sure is nice to be honored a little extra.


Hope you all enjoyed a very sweet and memorable Mother's Day as well.

Congratulations Doesn't Even Begin To Cover It

This time of year is always such a bittersweet time when you work in college ministry. You have 3-5 years to build a relationship with someone; to allow your lives to be intertwined with theirs; to carry their burdens and celebrate their victories. You become family with them. Sometimes even closer than an actual family member.

All this time spent has the express purpose of helping them figure out who they are to become; in society and in Christ.

You encourage them to go to class and to study. And to make choices that are eternally invested. And it all leads up to the one day when they will graduate from college and be a member of the "Real World." (Not the atrocious show, but actual life.)

Yesterday and today marks this bittersweet time for several of my dear friends. Graduation day. And while I could easily devote an entire post to each of these and what their lives and friendships have meant to me, I only have time for a short explanation.

I'll start with Becca since I met her more recently. Here she is with my 6 day old son.

This girl is so near and dear to my heart. From the moment I met her, I knew deep in my heart that she was a rare breed of Godly Woman. She absolutely refuses to settle for mediocre and her every action exudes godliness. I'm so grateful for the specific ways the Lord has intertwined her life with mine. Her friendship means the world to me.


And her story isn't as bittersweet because she's staying with us for a little longer while she continues her education at UH!!!! Yay! Becca, we get to be sisters again!

Next is Emily.

I've told her this story before and I think it kinda freaked her out a little, but hopefully, looking back, she can see just how true it was.

I met Emily in the beginning of the Spring semester of 2010. The Fall semester had been a rough one for us. We had prayed the Summer before that the Lord would send us the people that no one else wanted or would love. And he did. We met many people that were a challenge for us. And the good news is that they all, though they were a little (or a lot) rough around the edges, met with the Lord and became beautiful people. But by the end of the Fall semester we were exhausted and hadn't yet seen the fruit of our tears and prayers and time spent.

We were sitting, talking about this and someone very wise spoke up and said, "This time, let's pray for a few who already love the Lord and will be an encouragement to us and will join us to fight along side us for these souls." So we did.

And then we met Emily. And we all knew immediately that she came to UH just at that moment in time to be a breath of fresh air and an encouragement. And she has been that and so much more to us. But to me, personally, she has been such a faithful friend. And I've watched her go from someone who, indeed, loves the Lord with all her heart, to someone who is committed to the growing of His Kingdom. Emily graduated yesterday and is leaving to continue her education as well. But there's always a home for her in my heart. From now on, anything that happens in Chi Alpha at UH will be directly because of her and her choice to honor the Lord with her time at school.

Emily, you did it! You didn't think you could, but you did. And you did it well! The Lord must be pleased by you.

And now, for someone I've known a lot longer than these others. And truly someone I could write a book full of stories and ways she's impacted my life. But I think she'd rather me show up to celebrate her graduation today than sit here all day writing about it. So, it'll have to be brief.

Allison, you have become to me what it really means to be a sister. I so much admire and respect you in the things of God. You have proven that the Lord has a firm and very specific call on your life to minister to those that many would write off as useless. You have the most tender heart of anyone I've ever known and He has used that quality to touch the hearts and lives of so many. But the most exciting and encouraging thing is that what you've accomplished for His Kingdom, is only a mere scratch. I truly believe you are making history. I absolutely believe it...with all my heart. You are changing lives and changing the way other people view those lives and it will change our world. You are such a big deal to me and I love what you have become.

There will be jokes for the next how-many-ever years about you being the first to continue your education and be the smartest in the family. But the truth will be that we're all profoundly proud and deeply honored to know you.

I love you, Sister. 

I love all of you. And I realize there are others who graduate this weekend and I'm probably leaving out some that do mean a lot to us. But these are on my heart this morning and I just wanted to honor them for their faithfulness and love to me.



Congratulations! Happy Graduation!

One Year Later

It's amazing how I can remember almost every single detail, in vivid color, exactly what happened on this very night one year ago. I'm aware that probably nobody but me (and maybe my mom) has any bit of interest in some of these details. But I write this for my own memory's sake. Because in five or ten years, it won't be so vivid anymore and I'll weep because it was so long ago and so hard to recall. And then I'll read this. And I'll remember. And I'll probably still weep because it'll seem like just yesterday.

So please feel free to click away and not read. Or please feel free to stay and live the experience with me. Yes, it'll be long.

So the story goes that after eating an evening meal of grilled chicken salads and packing up the last of the essentials, Matt and I took a few pictures together and climbed into the car. We pulled out of the driveway as a couple. Just the two of us. We were as nervous as a Kindergartner on a first day of school, not knowing what was next or how it was all gonna happen. Of course, we had a general knowledge and some small idea, but truly, we were clueless. And ecstatic. And scared. And anxious.

We found parking in the the parking garage across the street from the hospital and got lost in the halls. I was pretty sure (and VERY hopeful) that I'd go into labor right then and there. You see, I was already 9 days overdue with our little boy. My "due date" (whatever that means) was April 26th. It was May 4th. And just the day before at yet another ob appointment, my doctor confirmed that we just couldn't keep him in there any longer. So, he instructed us to check into the hospital at 7:30 on Wednesday evening so that I could be induced early the next morning.

We were so bummed. Nothing was going according to plan (ha! it still never goes according to plan!) and we were just so ready to meet this babe, but we wanted it to be in his timing. But as we learned, sometimes you just have to help them along and trust who knows best.

So, we checked into the hospital and got settled into the room. Before I even had a chance to use the restroom or get comfortable, I was all hooked up to a number of annoying machines. And the sounds of our little boy's tiny, strong heartbeat filled the room. I wish we had thought to capture more (or any at all) pictures of this waiting time. This is the part that's the most of a blur to me.

I remember the sweet nurse who was with us that night. She was so patient and persistent as she tried so hard to get a steady and constant pick-up of Josiah's heartbeat. He was (and still is) very, shall we say, independent and didn't like "being pinned down." So any time she had the monitor in the right place to get his heart beat, he would move and it would be gone. And she would have to come back in the room and try to find it again. After about the 13th time (no exaggeration!) I wanted to tell her to go find somebody else's heartbeat.

It wasn't just her. (And she really was so super sweet.) It was the constant flow of random people coming and going from the room ALL NIGHT LONG. Did they forget that we were there to have a baby and this was most definitely the last possible chance for a full, decent night's sleep? Apparently.

The next morning, Cinco de Mayo, even before the sun came up, they were in my room again giving me some kind of pills that were supposed to induce labor. They worked. My doctor also came in and broke my water. For the next 9 or so hours I labored. I experienced the agony joy of contractions. But they weren't normal, how-it's-supposed-to-be contractions. No, they were medicinally-induced contractions. They came fast and furious. I did okay for awhile. I breathed and closed my eyes and would just listen to the soft worship music playing in the room. But after awhile, one off-the-charts contractions would start before the last one was even over. Whoa. Intense. My body had no time to relax. I was really starting to have a tough time. The nurses (who had switched at this point) and my doctor came in to check to see how far I was dilated/effaced. He said I was about 4cm dilated, 50% effaced. Not bad, but definitely not sufficient progress. With this gloomy news, I decided there was no way I would have enough energy to push a human being out of me after another couple hours of this. Just before noon, much to my (then) disappointment, I opted for an epidural.

That was an experience worth a post by itself. If you've had one, you know. If you haven't had an epidural, let's just say...it's complicated. And add to the fact that right as the fat needle was going in my spine, I had another fairly intense contraction. Also, they normally don't allow the dads to stay in the room, but Matt stayed for some reason. And I was grateful. Except for the part when he and the anesthesiologist were chatting away about The Netherlands and the old country and Dutch last names and blah, blah, blah. Umm...hello. You are sticking fat needles in my spine. Let's stay focused here. Thank you.

The disappointment in myself did not last very long. Before too long, I was feeling good. My legs felt crazy strange and really, really itchy. But man, I was feeling good. Good.
*It was weird. I could tell I was having a contraction because everything got tight, but I felt no pain.

My mom showed up about 5 minutes after I got the epidural. I now know that she had rushed to get across town to come to my rescue and help me through the agony of labor just to arrive to find out that her wuss of a daughter got the drugs. Thanks anyway, Mom.
*My Dad was sadly out of town and couldn't be there that day. He got to meet Josiah the day after we brought him home from the hospital. 

Not long after my mom arrived, Matt's parents both showed up. We sat around and chatted for a bit and they laughed at me for being so certain of my plan for how this birth was gonna happen and how vastly opposite it was turning out.

They all (Matt, my mom, Matt's parents) decided they would go down to the cafeteria and get some lunch to give me a chance to take a nap. That's right. I took a nap. While in the throes of labor. Welcome to Epidural World! Of course, it wasn't completely satisfying, seeing as how nurses and other random people (really, no clue who some of these people were or why they were in there...kinda disturbing thinking back on it all) kept waltzing in and out every 5 minutes. But still, it was a little bit of rest.

After about an hour and half of nap time, around 2:30ish, my doctor walked in the room. Mind you, everybody was still gone, eating lunch and giving me time and space to rest. He woke me up, asked how I was feeling. And then the man proceeded to tell me that he was sending me to be prepped for surgery. (!!!!!!) He said he had been watching Josiah's heart beat and my labor activity on his computer back in his office (across the street) and it looked like Josiah was getting tired. He said he could tell because normally, the baby's heart beat will fluctuate with the ups and downs of contractions but that his had been pretty steady and he was concerned that he was exhausted and just needed to be taken out. I wasn't as shocked as I should've been, I guess. I had a feeling this would happen, but I was still very freaked out that no body was in there with me. I asked if I could talk to my husband first, but when I called, he didn't answer his phone. Officially freaking out. How do not answer your phone when your wife is upstairs in a hospital room alone about to have your child at any moment!?!?

That's when our moms both walked in the room. I asked them where Matt was and they said he was talking to the guy at the financial aid department to see if we could get a little help paying for this baby. I remember saying that that was important because it looked like it was gonna be more expensive than we thought.

Everything at this point is fairly blurry to me. Somehow or another I must've communicated to Matt to get his rear to the room because they were threatening to cut his darling wife open. We all sat in the room and prayed and asked the Lord if this cup could be passed from me, but nevertheless, not my will but Thine, O Lord. And we asked the nurse if she thought my doctor would be willing to hold off on the cesarean if they did another check and I was more dilated. So, they did a quick check before wheeling me into surgery...no progress.

So, off I went. Down the hallway, on a bed. With wheels. And railing. In a hospital gown. Visions of scenes from shows like ER from my childhood flashed through my mind. You know, the ones where they're being rushed off to surgery and they have a terrified look on their face like they know they'll probably never make it out? I knew that wasn't me. No, I knew that I had to come out, because there was gonna be a baby on the other end of this surgery. And he needed a mommy.
*Another funny note about this scenario: I also distinctly remember thinking that I should've paid more attention to this part in the hospital tour, but I had been so certain that I would not be needing this information. Call me stubborn.

Matt wasn't allowed in at first. So, I went in with the nurses. I couldn't tell if it was really that freezing cold in there or if it was just the effects of the drugs mixing with my nervousness. But I remember shaking so bad. So bad that I asked the anesthesiologist if it was normal for me to be shaking this bad. He looked kinda concerned which made me even more concerned. Which probably just made me shake even more. Looking back, I wasn't so nervous about the surgery, but more so about that fact that I was about to meet my son. Well, that was until I looked up and noticed a big, bright, metal lamp that was a little too much on the reflective side, hanging directly over me. Then I got nervous about the surgery. And I got even more nervous when they tied my arms downs and put a huge, heavy blanket over them. I shouldn't have asked why they did that...but I did. That's when I started singing "The House of God Forever" (Jon Foreman's song version of the 23rd Psalm...beautiful) over and over in my head.

Matt came in the room and sat up by my head. I can't remember if I asked him to start singing it out loud, but I remember wanting him to.

As they were cutting me open, Matt and the doctors operating on me had another nice, little conversation about how everybody in the room had last names that were foreign of some sort. I was super thrilled about this conversation taking place while I was being operated on and while I was anticipating the birth of my son.

And then they said it. They said they saw him. That they were about to pull him out. I started crying. It was 3:49pm. And he screamed. So loud. And I cried more. It was the best sound I had heard in my life. Then they showed him to me. And I had already prepared myself, that no matter what method of birth, he was not gonna look cute...not yet. And I was right.

But then they cleaned him up and bundled him and came and put him on my chest. He was still crying, but it only took a few moments of me talking to him until he got silent. And he was looking at me like he knew me somehow. And my heart immediately understood what it was like to unconditionally love another human being. I unconditionally love my husband now, but he had to earn that love for a time at first. Josiah, my son, my impossibly tiny baby boy, couldn't have done anything to earn my unconditional love. But he had it. And I understood, in a very small way, what the heart of the Father feels for us. We've never done anything to earn his love, but what His heart holds for us is unfathomable.

And what my heart held for that tiny bit of a human being in that moment was unfathomable. But what's even harder to comprehend is how much that love has grown over this last year. I loved that fresh, newborn baby boy, but he didn't have much of a personality yet.

This little boy can melt the hardest part of my heart in an instant with his crazy-tooth smile or his goofy, little laugh. And even when he laughs after I get on to him for something, or has an absolute meltdown because I put him down for 10 seconds, I can't help but love him even more. Even as I type this, I've told him "No!" several times. He LOVES trying to touch the computer and just can't resist banging on it. He knows he's not supposed to, but does it anyway. And I love him more for his persistence.

It's only been a year since I met him. My heart can't handle the thought of how much I might love him or how much richer my life will be in another 5 or 10 years.

Josiah Schaeffer Hoogendoorn, you have brought so much light and life to our days. This has been one of the best years of mine and Daddy's lives together. And we're so, so, so excited to celebrate your precious, little life tomorrow. And even more excited to watch you grow and learn. And our greatest joy will be when your little heart someday experiences the same love and joy you bring to us.

We love you! Happy Birthday, Little Buddy!

"The Lord is My Portion..."

You know how sometimes you're in need of something and you don't even know it? This morning, I was just on the computer, wasting time and a line of Scripture just popped up into my mind. So, I went to the trusty ol' Bible Gateway and put in the key words.

As I read the words in context with the whole Scripture, I was just so comforted and so deeply encouraged by it. And then, beyond that...I was overwhelmed to know that the Lord could and would minister to my spirit without me even knowing I was in need of a particular encouragement. He's SO GOOD! So. Good.

With all that my life is right now; so much chaos and seemingly lack of time. Even with my precious, yet very loud child stretching his vocal chords in the room right next to me, the Lord reminds me to wait in the quiet for Him. That His compassions are fresh every morning. That He is, He really, really is, so faithful. More faithful than the sun that rises without fail every morning. And that He, alone, is my portion. That I can desire and have need of so much, yet He is my portion. And in Him, I find rest and healing and peace and help and strength...and the list goes on.

"Yet this I call to mind
and therefore I have hope:

Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
I say to myself, “The LORD is my portion;
therefore I will wait for him.”

The LORD is good to those whose hope is in him,
to the one who seeks him;
it is good to wait quietly
for the salvation of the LORD. "
~Lamentations 3:21-26