What it means to be a Christian

What does it mean, to be a Christian?

Here's another question.
Is there a thing more humbling than foot washing? I'd venture to say that there are more people out there feeling uncomfortable about their feet than those that aren't.

I wonder what bothers people more, the thought of taking someone elses foot up in our laps and washing it and drying it, or the thought of someone else taking our feet up in their laps and dipping it into that bowl and rubbing soap into it, and having it get washed and dried.

I went to a foot washing service on Maundy Thursday and I didn't know what to expect. We drew numbers out of a basket and were supposed to find the people with the corresponding number, or just choose someone. I felt unprepared and a little nervous, until I was told that our neighbor, who had a six year old grand-daughter visiting really wanted to have her feet washed. I hopped up gladly and led her by the hand to one of the stations and when it was available, It's such a simple act of caring. It's so easy to do. I felt a little dumb about feeling the embarrassment that I had felt. I think that goes back to one of my core fears that still sneaks up on me now and then. This is the fear that I will do something wrong and people will get mad at me. But I digress.

I love kids. I always have, and I always will. I love how she was so honest about wanting this, and so willing to let it be done to her. If anyone had asked me I'd have done it without a second thought. Initiating things is sometimes just more difficult. I led her back to the pew and went looking for my next person. I met eyes with a lovely lady with pretty dang epic dread locks and asked if she had her feet washed yet, but then she asked me the same thing. Then she said she would wash my feet. I said, Okay, and then I'll wash yours! And she said, No, I've already had mine washed. So she simply took my hand and led me to a spot. My eyes filled up, the warm water felt so good, and she was so gentle and thorough. There was nothing I could do but receive this act of humility, this gift. All I could do afterwards was throw my arms around her and get crushed by her dreads in the process.

THIS. This is what Christianity is about. Being humble with one another. Serving one another. Being willing to give and receive. Love is about willingness to do what we don't want.

Jesus said to Nicodemus that he must be born again, In the late sixties, this became a big things. It's still pretty common vernacular. He also said to a certain rich young ruler that the one thing that he lacked was to sell all that he owned and give it to the poor.

That doesn't get preached so much.

We are used to our barriers.

We can toss a homeless man a dollar and feel good about it, or we can sit down on the pavement next to him and learn his name and pray for him and find out what how his heart hurts and what he really needs.

We can sing (and feel those Holy Ghost goosebumps)

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders
Let me walk upon the waters
Wherever You would call me

But are we willing to actually be sent, where there might not be the money to live as well as we want and have the free time that we so desperately deserve? 

Can we post picture after picture on facebook about the sin it is to have an abortion but not take in a pregnant teen who has been abandoned by her family?

Can we dare to believe that a Syrian or Iraqi or North Korean soul is of less value than an American one? (Or fill in the blank of your country.)

If you support Trump could you wash the feet of a Bernie supporter? (Or Clinton)

If you support Bernie could you wash the feet of a Trump supporter? (Or Cruz)

This world needs radical humility and undeserved grace. This world needs less judgement and more compassion. This world needs the CHRISTIANS to look each person in the eye and see the spark of our creator, the divine power and love that drove him to the cross. 

We are supposed to take up our cross. Our burden. We are supposed to be fishers of men. We are supposed to reject the edicts of man that would say anything contrary to that.

We were put here to love the world before ourselves. 

Oh God, I want to see us all live like this. I'm so hungry for Your church to be united in this simple task. Your kingdom come, your will be done. On earth as it is in heaven. 

Surviving Guilt?

Hello.

So apparently, there are fierce debates as to when the second trimester starts. Somewhere between week 12 and week 14, according to my internet research. One counter says Week 13 day 3, which I'll hit on Sunday. 

I feel like everywhere I turn my head I'm reading about people who have lost their twins. It makes me want to to just turn off all electronic things and read the backs of shampoo bottles. 

Since my early miscarriage, I've joined a facebook community called Hope Mommy's. If anyone reading this has endured a loss, I do recommend it. There are four parts, one general community, one called Hope Babies, which is to remember and honor the memory of the lost children,  one called New Journey, for those who are actively trying again or for those who are open to the possibility. And then there is New Blessing, for the those who have conceived again to comfort and encourage one another through the fear of carrying life again. I really appreciate how they keep them distint, because I can sure see how the overlap could really be crushing. One person who just lost their baby at 8 months reading about someone else desperately trying again can feel like a punch in the kidneys, I'm sure. 

I feel like I have managed to keep fear and stress at bay. As my baby's grow (peach sized now, woo hoo!) And my stomach starts to swell, I thank God and I am eating so healthy it's not even funny. (Lunch: cottage cheese, an avocado, and water) (And I didn't even instagram it.) 

But hearing about each loss, (especially of twins) even after I've unfollowed the pages for now, it still shows up. And makes me want to stick my fingers in my ear and say, "LA LA LA I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" 

I know how obsessive my personality is. I know once I let fear in, I'm isolated and stressing, which isn't good for any of us. 

I feel like there is too much sadness and loss out there ( I have read story after story after story) that I feel like I have no right to celebrate openly. I even know how seeing hugely pregnant ladies can hurt those who want so badly to still be carrying their babies, or their first, so I'm sure I'll be feeling even more guilty then too.

So there's not a deep, profound purpose to this. I wish I could feel released. There isn't a pat answer, a religious, pull out your bible and BAM there's the answer. So few things in life really are that way. 

I've struggled with that for awhile. Wanting to find the truth in points A, B, and C to make the sticky situation in front of me clear and easy and conquerable. It feels so naive, now. In loss and identity and honesty, people are just more complicated than that. 

Be blessed.

Katie

My twins are healthy!

EDIT: You may notice that there now is a Donate button in the sidebar. If you are willing and able to help us cover the medical costs involved with having twins, please feel free to click there. If you live in the USA and want to be able to make your donation tax deductible, instead go to the Covenant Players donation page and send it through there. Make sure to either mention in the donation form that it is for us (just put in Bjaergvide) or email me to let me know who you are and how much you sent so that I can notify our financial department. Thank you all so much, and please enjoy the blog post you came here for:

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My dear friends and family,

 (and people in countries I've never been to but who apparently read my blog now and then because the map thinger in my settings tells me people from places like the Ukraine and Japan read this, good to see you too!)

I am over the moon.

Three weeks to the date of finding out that two precious babies are growing in me, I got to see them stretch their limbs and I saw tiny hands and feet and and noses and ears and mouths. Now, I finally feel released to be joyful. I want to shout it from the rooftops. I want to shove my ultra sound pics into the nearest strangers hands. I want to send the 9 short videos that were captured on our phone to everyone I can think of. But I restrain myself, somehow. Seeing them move and dance just made them more real, I guess!

The Lord is good. We got the money we needed for this appointment just hours before we were called in. Now we have a month to figure out how to get the next appointment away from our normal doctor and to make and or raise that money. We are going to try to figure out how to get a paypal account linked to this blog, but I still don't really know how to go about that. My husband is the computer smart one of the marriage. I was all about the fund raising as a kid, because kids in the US don't get much of a choice about that! I wanted to win the prize, and my poor Mom had to keep it all straight as I shoved money into pockets and couldn't remember who gave what when it needed to go on paper. Ahhh, the good old days.

But now THIS life change is so huge. So beyond us. Two priceless, expensive babies. Still waiting on the Lord to give wisdom to go about this whole thing. We should still have another 6 months before things get really nuts, with c-sections and shots and food and help while I heal and learn how to take care of newborns and breastfeed two tiny babies and all that jazz. I know the Lord gave us this blessing for a reason, and not just because he likes to laugh. (But that must have something to do with it.) 

I'm sure that being a parent means being in over your head, so, uh.....check?

Also, aren't my babies beautiful?!

The DOUBLE blessing

Wow, I didn't write for a whole month. I honestly can't remember the last time I wrote. It has been a strange time. We moved house, a very large, very full house into a much smaller one. We have done ministry. In normal churches and poor churches and private schools and kind of poor public schools and the responses have been very positive and people are keen to have us back.   We have lived at the new office and gone on short trips doing ministry in Mpumalanga. I love typing that place almost as much as I love saying it. It is a beautiful, exotic, gorgeous part of the country. 

Moving on! I did say there was a double blessing in the title after all.

In January as we were preparing for the biggest part of our move, I began to suspect that I was expecting! I took a test sooner than I had been planning because of the move, and not wanting to do any damage to the potential mustard seed sized life. My husband and I counted to three and peeked over at the test together and with shaky grins we hugged and took pictures with the little stick. I had previously thought it was a strange thing to take pictures with, but looking back on our loss in August, a picture of a positive test can be a precious proof that it was real. That this child was real.

As the weeks went on, I got more and more sick of my sense of smell, making the fridge an abominable adversary, and my waning taste buds, which rendered food I loved as disgusting. (Praise the Lord I've only had full on morning sickness three times so far!) That, combined with sore body parts and hormonal outbursts towards my poor husband gave me a lot of hope that at our first appointment, we would hear a heart beat. There was going to be a raspberry sized person on that screen! (There are plenty of helpful websites that will tell you what sized fruit your baby is every week of development.)

Still, going to the doctor, the same place where we found out not so many months before that our first baby wasn't coming was tough. I remembered in so much detail just crying besides the car while Marten called our supervisor to say there wasn't good news. I think I plugged my ears because I just couldn't imagine what it would be like to hear the words out loud. As we drove to the doctor, we listened to a Bethel Redding CD we have listened to A LOT in the past few months.

My heart will stay steadfast. I know that you are good.

It was what we needed. Nothing could have prepared us for the moment of revelation when the sonogram was happening, and there were two sacs. Two heartbeats. Two tiny raspberries! The Lord, in his incredibly mysterious and hysterical sense of humor has decided to give us twins.

I keep praying, Oh Lord, let their hearts keep beating. Let them keep growing healthy and strong. And now we are in March. At the end of this month I will be out of my first trimester!

Ministry is happening, and will keep on happening for as long as I am able. Which will be for a while, prayerfully. September is not for a long long time. I know God is going to provide for all the needs because he chose us to be stewards of His children. In 30 odd weeks, my children will be my ministry as well. I am so excited to take care of them. To be a Mommy. To be the most important person in their lives. What an honor. Please pray that our fear will be wiped away. Because it comes. Sometimes I worry that I'm not feeling sick enough for them to be doing okay. Being pregnant after a loss makes a person pray some weird things. “Oh Lord, I would be willing to be sick everyday if it meant they were doing okay.” Oh wow. Am I asking to throw up?

And so, in conclusion, I'm a little bit more odd than usual. But God is so good and you just never know His surprises. I can just imagine the Lord grinning like Christmas day as this divine surprise of His was revealed to us and all we could do was laugh and slowly let the breath out of our lungs and shake our heads as any words that came to mind were nonsensical sentence fragments of shock.