Willow Anne Falconer

Two and a half weeks ago, our lives, once again, changed forever. On April 8, 2010, at 10:30 p.m., Willow Anne Falconer was born. She is beautiful and perfect,awe-inspiring and miraculous. When the doctor placed her on my chest and announced that she was a girl, I just wanted to sob with gratitude. My heart felt as if it would explode with love for this little person that I did not yet know, but would as of that first moment of introduction, give anything for. Everyone around us disappeared, and there was just the two of us, soaking in the euphoria of love at first sight.
She is our fourth child, and with each one, I have wondered how my heart can possibly love another child as much as I do the one I already have. And, with each one, my heart effortlessly stretches to envelope this new little one.
We brought her home a few days later, and for two weeks enjoyed the loving support of my dad. His time and efforts spent with our three older kids, and making meals, and even doing dishes, helped to soften the shock of life with four children.
Yet, the past few weeks have, for me, been a bit of a blur.
From the wisps of fog that surround my brain, I can recall the memories of good friends bringing delicious meals and desiring a peak at the baby. I seem to remember that relentless newborn cry that wants to feed every hour or two instead of every three like they are supposed to. I remember my sweet husband rubbing my back as I drag my exhausted body from bed several times a night to feed our baby. My son's frantic voice as he yells, a moment too late "Mom, poo!, it's coming out!"
My daughter's persistent need to know why the baby can't play with her yet, and if the baby likes having her as a big sister. My darling Ocean, always trying to pull my shirt up when he hears the baby crying, is quickly learning what is needed to make her happy.
All of this, and much more, culminated in a good, long cry yesterday. I was actually proud of myself for making it that long. I have always liked the verse in Psalms that tells us that God keeps all of our tears in a bottle. I actually laughed as I imagined God fumbling for another bottle as I filled up bottle after bottle. I am so thankful that He doesn't fumble, and that He knew I was going to have a cry, and exactly how many tears I would shed. A long cry is cleansing, healthy, I have decided. For I definitely felt better after.
I also felt better after a talk with my sister. She had her fourth three months ago, so I knew if anyone could identify exactly with how I felt, it would be her.
I was right. She is wise, and sweet and loving. She told me exactly what I needed to hear.
II Corinthians 9:8 "AND GOD IS ABLE to make all grace abound toward you; that ye, always having ALL sufficiency in ALL things, may abound to every good work:"

I may not always feel able, or even capable, but my God is, and will give me sufficient grace for every situation!

He is Risen!

Four more days until my due day. I think that sitting around, waiting to go into labor is one of the most difficult things to go through. Well, maybe besides the labor itself, or, ok, I can think of a million more difficult things to go through.

Maybe the sitting around part is what is so frustrating. And, I am not really sitting around. I go to sleep every night, thinking, "this is it, this baby is coming tonight!" Then, I get a little panicked, thinking of a few more things I would like to get done before the baby comes.

I think that Blue is annoyed with me. I am thinking he is annoyed that I keep coming up with more projects to do, and he wouldn't feel so guilty about not always helping me if I would just sit on the couch and put my feet up. But, this "nesting" syndrome is uncontainable, I just can't sit for long.

The weather is warming up, spring is definitely around the corner. Talk swirls around me, about getting out, going on vacations, training for whatever race or adventure is coming up. And, believe me, living in Canmore, AB, there is always someone or many someones training for something. Considering how I get out of breath climbing my stairs, one can see how this can be a little discouraging for me.

Easter is tomorrow, and as I was busily preparing my Easter brunch for tomorrow, I began to think about my Lord and how He felt on this weekend. He too was waiting, knowing in advance that He was going to die a terribly painful death. For what? For who? For me, to give me life. I wonder if He was anxious, constantly thinking of more He needed to accomplish before that night. I wonder if He was bothered by the talk of others around Him. Tomorrow, we celebrate the fact that He is alive, the grave could not hold Him. Before the beginnings of this world, before I was conceived, He loved me, He planned to die for me so that I could live!

So, for this reason, and for the wonderful, imminent birth of our baby, I can only rejoice!

Five more weeks...

Someone told me that February is over. They must have been telling me the truth, for a call came today reminding me of a meeting I am to attend on March 4th. And, March comes after February. Right?
I love this picture of Meadow on the swings. I see so much future in her smile, hear inspiration in her laugh, smell the coming spring in the mud on her shoes, yet the wind of winter is still in her cheeks.
Most of all, I crave the inspiration.
I wish I could say that I crave inspiration to do something great. Perhaps I could write a book, or start a preppy home-business, or learn to play the guitar, create something magnificent with my hands. No, I am looking for inspiration to make dinner in the evening, the only thing the comes to mind lately is spaghetti. Inspiration to present an amazing, imaginative idea to my two little ones staring up at me with adoring eyes. I stare blankly at the kitchen table, which became an arts and crafts station soon after breakfast. I stare longingly at the sofa, well, what I can see of it after Meadow and Forest have finished their fort. I glance sideways at the laundry room as I pass by, do we really own that many clothes? And, are there any left in our dressers? Climbing the stairs, I grab the shelf for balance. That gray matter left on my fingers can't possibly be dust. As I reach the top of the stairs, I realize that I am breathing heavily, and have to bend over, grab my knees, in order to catch my breath. Surely, I am still weak from the cold we all had last week. I couldn't possibly be "out of shape". I bemusedly look at my figure in the bathroom mirror, "out of shape" is an understatement!
I decide it is time to turn the page on the calendar. There is no use denying the coming of March. I see the pencil marking on March 2, "five more weeks" and,get this, a big smiley face! My breathing gets heavy again, almost hysterical. I sit down and put my head between my knees. Breathe, Breathe! I talk to myself alot. A habit developed over time, lots of time spent alone with toddlers. So, I began to give myself the necessary pep talk.
You can do this, Deb. God's grace is sufficient. He will not give you more than you can handle. His strength is made perfect in weakness. And, in five weeks, with the birth of our new little one, I will be very weak. I am thanking Him five weeks in advance. I am thanking Him for all of the "God-moments" I am going to experience. Those moments when there is no denying that higher Being helped me to survive. I am thanking Him for His inspiration, for His strength, for His grace, for His mercy.
Five more weeks, I can hardly wait!

A dramatic 2010...

A couple of weeks ago, we were driving to church when our van suddenly lost power. It is very eerie to be coasting down a mountain road in the dark. The other fact that made the whole situation eerie was that all three of our kids were silent. My wonderful husband managed to conjole the old girl, that would be our van, to a stop about half a block from the church. I was content with that, but as we made our way that last little stretch to the building, I was also filled with that sick feeling that always accompanies car troubles.
Our church always shares "God-stories" after worship, and this has always been something that I love about our service. Sometimes the stories are happy, praising God for something He did that week, sometimes, prayer is requested as struggles are revealed. This particular week, there were a lot of happy stories about amazing things that only our God can do. Instead of joy, I felt numb, as if lead flowed through my veins instead of blood. My limbs were heavy, and I couldn't move.
As the stories came to a close, our pastor began to share a message about the new year, 2010. He proceeded to remind us of the truth that we are part of God's story, not the center, but a part. He challenged us to live a dramatic 2010, to view everything that occurs in our lives this year as part of His story.
I was starting to tingle now, as if my entire body had fallen asleep. My heart began to cry out, "Please, God, no more drama! A peaceful 2010, a smooth 2010, but, have mercy, not a dramatic 2010!"
Over the course of the past weeks, I have remained numb, and if I allow my heart to feel, my soul to speak, only doubt flows out. Ashamed of that doubt, I have remained silent.
Last week, I realized that my wedding ring was missing. In desperation, I tore the house apart, blamed my children, cried over the loss, and as a final effort to restore that ring to my finger, I begged God to show me where it was. My daughter found me on my knees, and asked me what I was doing. I told her that only one person knew where my ring was, and I was asking Him to help me. She looked me in the eye and said, "God doesn't exist, Mom, He doesn't know where your ring is, and can't help you find it."
I was shocked. I could only sputter, "Why? why do you think that?"
"Because I can't see Him." and she walked away.
I lay on the floor for a long time, staring at the ceiling. God exists, there is no doubt about that. But, why is it so difficult for me to trust Him?
I thought back on the last three years. We purchased a condo, completed the reno, placed it on the market, only to have it burn down two months later. God has taught me so much through that trial,and yet, at this time, all I could remember was that I have begged God to sell it for us, and that hasn't happened yet.
I thought back on our beautiful son, Ocean, for whom we have asked God to grow, and now, all I could think of was that I had a seven year old with the size and mental capacity of a three-year-old, without a single medical explanation. I began to shake my fist at the heavens, and questioned, not God's existence, but His silence.
God is faithful, God is good, and promises that if we seek Him, we will find Him, so, of course, He revealed Himself to me.
I opened the Bible, and read about a man named David. In a Bible study that I am presently doing, I was reminded that David was anointed by Samuel to be king of Israel at the age of fifteen. David didn't actually become king until he was thirty-seven. That is a twenty-two year gap!! I know that I have been anointed, not necessarily to be king of a nation, but to be a child of a King. Those twenty-two years were not wasted by David, he completed menial tasks, care-taker of the sheep, delivery boy for his brothers on the battlefield, harp player for the king, but everything he did, whether big or small was done for God's glory.
Every task he was given was also accompanied by the God-given ability to accomplish it. When he defeated the giant, Goliath, he shouted, "...I come to you in the name of the Lord of heaven's armies....today the Lord will defeat you, and all the world will know there is a God in Israel!"
I knew that the giant I was facing was my own doubt. I looked to the Psalms, written by David, in praise to God..."let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love. I am trusting in you..."
I would love to find my ring, I would rejoice if our condo sold and released us of that huge financial burden, I would run in the streets if Ocean could talk and read and do so many of the things that seven year olds do, but if I must wait another twenty-two years, I will continue to trust in God and His unfailing love for me.

Happy Birthday Mom!

Yesterday was my mom's birthday. I was thousands of miles away. However, I was traveling, so I had lots of time to think. And, I thought about my mom all day.

I admire so many things about my mom, it is hard to know where to start. She is honest. She will always tell you exactly what is on her mind. She is beautiful. One might catch her at her house in her PJs, but if she goes out, you can guarantee that she will look fantastic! She is strong. She has survived the death of three of her siblings, and both of her parents. She is fiercely loyal. Try not to get in between her and one of her cubs! She is generous. She won't just fill a need, she will overflow it. She is a hard worker. If you need her anytime between April and August, she will be out in her yard. She is faithful. It would take more than a wild herd of horses to drive her away from a commitment once she has put her mind to it. She is available. From the time I was a small child until now, I cannot remember one time she has told me that she was too busy to listen to me, or to hold me. Some respect their moms for having a career, and that is fine, I respect my mom for making the three of us kids her career. I always knew that I was a priority in her life.

My mom is funny. She can always be counted on to make one laugh.
My mom is in love with Jesus. God brings events into His children's lives for many different reasons, but they are almost always to grow us and to show us His reality. Many of us experience a time in our lives that is so moving, so persuasive, that the rest of our life seems to revolve around that one period. For my mom, and I believe that she would agree with me, it was her firm belief that God was going to give her more children. My brother is seven years older than me. During those seven years, my parents experienced the joy of knowing they were going to have another baby, only to lose it through miscarriage. My mom's doctors first encouraged, then begged her to give up. But, my mom was determined that God was going to prove faithful and give her another baby. He answered her prayers, and gave her me, two years later, He gave her my sister. Thanks mom, for gathering close to God's will, and waiting on Him.

I know that I could say more. I have so many wonderful memories of my mom. As for today? I love my weekly talks with mom. And, I know that I could call her at any time, on any day, and she will listen. She will then not only offer to pray for me, she will do it, right then.
Thanks, Mom. I love you more than you will ever know.
Your daughter, Deb

The truck is home for one day and....

The phone rang about nine last night. I was a little sleepy and thought about just letting it ring, but gave in at the last moment.
A very formal, female voice informed me that she was calling from the Calgary Police Department, and wanted to speak with a Debbie Falconer. Yes, that is me, what is this about? My heart was already pounding. Blue had been in Calgary all day working on a job. He should have been home an hour ago. She then asked if I was the owner of a white, Ford, Super-duty truck. Yes, well not me exactly, my husband, Blue owned the truck and should be in it right now, driving himself safely home. Was my husband's name Blue Falconer? Yes, isn't that what I just said? Yes, that is our license plate. What is this about? I was having trouble catching my breath, and hating myself for always assuming the worst in every situation. The woman then politely asked for Blue's cell number, then thanked me and hung up. Hung up? Wait, please wait, what is going on? It took a few minutes for me to calm down, and explain to myself that if he were hurt, or in trouble, she would have told me that, right?
I dialed Blue's cell, and nearly sobbed with relief when he told me that he was about a half hour from home, and everything was ok.
A few minutes later, the phone rang again. I had no trouble jumping up to get this one. This time, a man's voice introduced himself as a constable in Calgary. He then proceded to ask me many of the same questions. This time, I was not so dazed, and demanded to know what was going on. He informed me that they had received a "hit" on our vehicle. A truck with our license plate had been seen doing "stupid" things. I almost laughed out loud. My husband is a lot of fun, lively, adventurous, but what this officer was describing I knew could not be my husband.
It took a few more phone calls for us to discover that the license plate had been stolen off of Blue's truck and replaced with a fake. I could finally breathe normally.
Early this morning, as I lay in bed, thanking God for protecting Blue, and for resolving the situation, I was shrouded in peace. I thought about the person or people who had stolen Blue's license plate, in a vain attempt to tarnish his reputation, to certainly cause trouble in the hopes of not getting caught...so hopeless, so sad. I snuggled deeper into my pillow, and as sleep began to overtake me, I remembered Romans 8:35, 38,39.
"Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?
For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

It's a wonderful life!

Have you ever met someone that life seems to just happen to? I have, I married him eleven wonderful years ago, and life has been happening to us ever since.
Our most recent run-in (hee! hee!) happened to be while I was down in the States visiting my family for American Thanksgiving. I always get a little nervous when I leave him, I don't know why, since I can do absolutely nothing to prevent these little episodes.
Nevertheless, I returned one evening to find my brother-in-law standing in the kitchen with a rather serious face expression. He quickly informed me that he was the bearer of bad news, and that my husband preferred it that way. I assume Blue was deducting that I would become slightly upset with this news. He usually is right, better to go through a second party. So, I listening patiently while Joe explained to me that the night before, while returning from church (that part must have been important), Blue hit a deer and believed our van to be a write-off. Ok, that is all right, Blue was safe. Unfortunately, the deer was in a seriously battered condition, or he would have made a nice addition to our freezer.
Sometimes, when these things occur, I wonder what God is trying to tell us.
Two days later, I return to find a rather curious message from Blue stating that if anyone wanted to hear a good story involving his truck and a Rocky Mt. sheep, give him a call.
Ok, God? You have my attention, what are You wanting to tell us?
Apparently,as Blue and a vehicle in front of him approached a full-grown ram standing on the road, something we do nearly every day in the winter, the car in front of him hit the ram. There was no damage to his car or to the ram, but the big boy was now very upset. As Blue tried to sidle by, the ram reared up on his hind legs and put his head through Blue's passenger window!!
I like Isaiah 30:21. "whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying 'this is the way, walk in it'."
I don't think God is telling Blue not to drive anymore, but I do like to know that I serve a God is going to guide us, and is not going to leave us alone to figure out our way.
Too bad it is too cold to ride a bicycle!