Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Dear Maci - 8 months

Dear Maci,

You are 8 months old today. You are sitting up by yourself, and pulling up in your crib and on our hands. You are also getting on your hands and knees and rocking, I bet you will be crawling any day now.  You are such a big girl. You are eating 2 tbs. oatmeal cereal with a stage 1 jar of fruit for breakfast, and (2) jars of stage 2 baby food at lunch and dinner. You are taking about 5 oz of formula every 4 hours, and about 3 oz at bedtime.  You usually go to sleep around 8:30 and sleep until around 6:30 or 7:00 (with a few cries for mommy and daddy in between).  You love to laugh, and are the funniest happy baby I have ever seen. You LOVE to have your picture made, whenever I get the camera out you start bouncing and laughing and make the silliest faces ever. You love your glo worm and give it kisses when it sings and lights up. You give hugs and kisses now. You can play patty-cake when someone starts saying the rhyme and clap when you are excited. You also wave “bye bye.” You can say your da, ba, ma sounds now. You love to watch Sprout, and Nina and Star are your favorite. You love it when Mommy sings to you and when Daddy tickles you and plays with your toys with you. You are always smiling. We love you very much, and can’t wait to see what you will do next.

We love you sweet baby girl....happy 8 month birthday!!


by Deidra, writing regularly at jumping tandem

I’m in the middle of a story and it comes to me in fits and starts. Sometimes it just rolls along, unnoticed and then sometimes it seems to suddenly drop out from under my feet.

I don’t have a testimony for this story. Not yet.

You know how, in some churches, the preacher will ask for someone – anyone – to give a testimony? And someone will rise to their feet and lean with two hands on the seat in front of them, or walk to the front of the church where there’s a microphone and they will tell their story. Start to finish. Beginning, middle, and end. A complete and total story.

I’m still in the middle of this story, and what I’ve got is hope.

Because I’ve sat in churches and listened to the testimonies that others had to tell. I’ve even had complete and total stories of my own to tell in days gone by.

And I’ve heard your stories…your beginnings, your middles, and your ends. You tell us about courage and joy and strength and your stories offer hope.

Do you know that? Do you know that your words give hope? Do you know the gift you offer when you tell your story? When you write it down, or type it out, or dip your head and offer words of hope into a microphone at the front of the church, or over the phone, or across the table over a cup of tea?

When you tell your story, your voice starts out soft and then it grows in strength along the way as words get strung together – one after the other – and then are fastened together like the “Amen” at the end of a prayer…

Your words shine.

Solid. Finished. Precious and good.

You stand tall. Your testimony sparkles there - draped around your neck. The going through has made you stronger. Your getting through gives hope.

I’m in the middle of a story and it comes to me in fits and starts. Your stories keep me going. Your stories keep me hoping. I put them in my back pocket and tuck them into my purse and press them into my heart along the way.

No one can tell your story like you can. No one knows the truth of it like you do. No one knows better how much we need to hear your story than those of us who are right in the middle of our own.

So, what story of hope do you have to tell?

What stories have you pressed into your own heart along the way?