The Littlest Prayers

As I was doing my devotions I came upon this verse..."And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests...". Eph. 6:18

Hmmm...It got me to thinking. ALL occasions and ALL kinds of prayers and requests. ALL? Really?

So it wasn't silly a few weeks ago in the PX to ask God help me to choose the most accurate pregnancy test? Or to have asked him today to give me patience to get through the first, second, third and even fourth temper tantrum and to help me react only in love and not frustration or anger? Or to ask him to help me feel just a little less queasy so that I can get off the couch and better care for Brady? God actually not only listens to those littlest of prayers, he wants me to pray them???

Yes. He does. He wants to hear them. He listens to them. He answers them.

Somehow, I had this silly notion in my head that I had only a pre-recorded number of prayers and requests. As if once I got to a certain number God would go deaf and no longer listen to me?! I'd better prioritize and only send up the "big" ones!

I was limiting God. I was placing boundaries on a God who has no bounds! He didn't ask me to. He never told me I only had a certain number of prayers he'd hear.

God wants us to come to him not only with lifes big problems, but with everything...even the littlest prayers. Our prayer life should be a constant conversation. We should be speaking to Him all day long, as we present Him with ALL our prayers and requests.

Now I just have to remember that a conversation goes both ways...I have to stop and listen. I have to be willing to receive what He has to say as well...

1-35 Ball

One of my favorite things about being in the Army is getting all dressed up for the balls and formals. It's like prom, only with out the awkwardness, and it's legal to celebrate with a few glasses of wine, or beer, or whatever else you might like (unless your pregnant, of course!). When the guys aren't deployed we usually have two a year or, one, big, fun one to celebrate the end of a deployment! Tuesday night we had our 1-35 AR, end of deployment, celebration ball!
Buck and I got all dressed up, a sitter came over to keep Brady, and off we went to the Rheinlander for a few adult only hours.

One special part of the evening was when Buck was inducted into the Order of St. George. The Order of St. George is an award given to "honor the very best of America’s tankers and troopers". It's an award that's not given out too often. I've only known two guys in the five years we've been married who had one.

Oh...and I can't forget the grog!! For those of you who don't know, grog is the most disgusting concoction of alcohol that I've ever smelled (and only been brave enough to taste once!). I've seen grogs containing wines, beers, hard liquors, sand and dirty socks! It's a punchbowl ceremony of sorts where different guys come up and read off whatever this particular bottle of liquor represents, i.e. Jagermeister represented the battalion being in Germany, then they have to take a generous swig, and pour the remainder of the bottle into the punchbowl. Anyway...Buck had a part in the grog ceremony and lucky for him he only had to pour in a bottle of wine!

We had a great time, enjoyed great food and great company, but at the end of the night I was ready to come home to see my baby boy, who was sound asleep. :(


Our babysitter, Hannah, took these pictures for us...

After a few pictures were snapped, Brady wanted in on the action...

The grog ceremony...

Buck being inducted into the Order of St. George by LTC Morales...

In Honor of the Fallen

Okay...I just might ruffle some feathers here, but after leaving Landstuhl Regional Medical Center today and witnessing what I witnessed, I just have to get it off my chest.

Today was not the first time. Every, single, time, that I've had an appointment at Landstuhl, to include the appointments I had when I was pregnant with Brady and all of the trips after he was born, as I have been entering or exiting the hospital, multiple buses and vans are parked at the emergency entrance, which is also one of the main entrances to the hospital. Waiting for those buses and vans are more medical personal than I have ever been able to count. Okay? So there's some buses and vans and lots of people? What's the big deal? The big deal is what's being unloaded from those buses and vans and what's waiting to be unloaded, or who's waiting rather.

Inside lay the wounded, mangled bodies of the bravest men and women I have ever seen. Men and women who just arrived in Germany from Iraq and Afghanistan to fight in yet another fight...the fight of their lives. Men and women who are facing the most difficult, challenging, darkest days of their short lives because they have lost their ability to walk, or hold their new born baby, because they no longer have legs or arms. Men and women who will never again see the light of day or hear their wife whisper in their ear because they have lost their sight or ability to hear because of the concussion from an IED that detonated next to their vehicle. Men and women who are fighting for their lives and who might not live through the night. Men and women, sons and daughters, husbands and wives, fathers and mothers...

I believe that you should give credit when credit is due. Michael Jackson was arguably the greatest artist of all time, yes. I myself have danced and sang along to many, many of his hits. I LOVED watching him perform. He was THE master of his craft. I'll give him that. But, really?

People could purchase tickets to his memorial service?! All I've seen on the news since he died was coverage of his death, tributes to him and now this memorial circus. Enough is enough. I'm sorry, I didn't realize that the world has stopped turning! Why is Jackson's death, as unfortunate and untimely as it was, taking precedence over more important news. Why is this guy, who's never done anything to serve his country, or the "fans" who have followed him religiously for years, or anything or anyone other than himself the only piece deserving of coverage on the evening news?!?!

What about the 5,021 men and women who have died for your freedom, your life, liberty and your pursuit of happiness? Those men and women died not because they overdosed on pills they had to take because they couldn't cope with life, but because they VOLUNTEERED, to put themselves in harms way so you and I could continue to live life as we know and love it. And who could blame them if they did need pills to cope. How do you suppose that Michael Jackson would do if he had to spend days, months and years of his life away from his family, in a tent, or sleeping on the top of his car, or on the side of the road, in 150 degree weather with no air conditioner, and the sound of bullets flying by his ear or the crack of mortar rounds as the sounds of his alarm clock, watching his buddies that he's bled with, sweat with, laughed with and who have become his brothers, scream in pain as they've lost their legs, or arms, or held them in his arms as they took their last breath. My guess is that he, along with all those other "celebrities" we worship, wouldn't last a week.

No, those men and women that I saw being unloaded from those buses today were suffering so that freedom seeking people all over this globe could have a better way of life. So that Michael Jackson could stand on a stage, and wow the world. So that he could earn millions upon millions of dollars, live in the lap of luxury and then piss off all that God was gracious enough to bless him with. They were there today so that his fans could sit at one of his concerts and scream out their undying love for him and worship him even in death.

But, for them, there are no hysterical, screaming fans to greet them. No pomp and circumstance, no "friends" reading pre-written, carefully planned speeches, no songs being sung, no grand stage upon which their broken bodies were wheeled. For them, there are just men and women, who like them, have volunteered to serve a cause far greater than self. And thank God for those angels of mercy, who's hands will mend those broken bodies and lives back together. Thank God for those men and women who have sacrificed their bodies, their lives, so that we can continue to sit comfortably on our couch and mourn Michael Jackson. Men and women, who have accomplished more in their short years than Michael Jackson could have in 1,000 years.

Men and women like SPC Robert Ehney, PFC Scott Messer, CPT Andy Houghton, 1LT Leif Knott, 1LT Laura Walker, MAJ Brian Mescall and SSG Matthew Taylor just to name a few, who are the best of our great nation.

A Soldier's Prayer

God our Father,

Help me to remain true to my ideals during my service to my country.

Help me be what is in America, the land of the free.

May I realize that I represent what our country stands for.

My uniform is a symbol of duty and valor both in peace and in war.

I take up arms to defend what all Americans hold dear:life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

Grant me the strength to live according to these ideals, the courage of my convictions, and the resolve to endure whatever dangers threaten.

With you at our side I fear no evil and resist every enemy, secure in the knowledge that you hold me in the palm of your hand.

Amen.

With Every Beat of My Heart

It seems like only a few days ago that I was sitting in my Grandmother's rocker and telling her that although I wanted another child, and the sooner the better, I couldn't imagine that I could love another as much as I love Brady. My fear was that somehow Brady would always be my "favorite". My heart was already so full, I didn't know how I could make room for another. I was so concerned in fact, that a few tears fell during our conversation.

Now I realize how foolish I was. I don't know anything about this little one yet. I don't know if it's a boy or a girl. If it will be our little prince or princess. I don't know what it's name will be. I don't know what it will look like...the color of it's eyes, it's hair, the shape of it's little lips, if it will have Buck's nose or mine. I don't care. All I know is that from the moment I found out that I would be a mom again, I have loved this child. And, I love it just as much as I love my little Brady. I guess that love just comes automatically with being a mom. It's a love that God puts inside us, and with the first news of that little miracle it starts to unfold. With each new phase of your child's life, the first ultrasound, the first kick, the first moment you hold that baby, the first smile, the first time that chubby little one crawls across the floor, the first time those wobbly legs take a step, you love your child more. Each time you look at that perfect little face you fall in love all over again.

So, my little Baby X, rest assured that your mommy loves you more with each passing day. There will never come a day that my love for you will lessen. Though change it will, little one, for I'll love you more with every beat of my heart.

HA HA HA...

First OFFICIAL Swine Flu Death...

4 Weeks -- The "Before" Shot

22 JUN: I was 4 weeks, 2 days when I "officially" found out that I was pregnant. I had Buck snap a few pictures that afternoon to document the "before" the big belly days.

When I was pregnant with Brady, I took a picture nearly every week to document my growing belly. It's fun to look back at them, so I'll do the same with this one too. Here's the first in the series...

As of now, I'm feeling great...a little tired some days, an occasional headache, and I've definitely noticed a decrease in my energy level, but that's it. Certainly nothing to complain about. It's funny because most days, I wonder if I really am pregnant! This is just a weird stage where you don't look pregnant and don't feel it quite yet either. I've been trying to remember and I think it was around 6 weeks that I started feeling sick with Brady... It'll be interesting to see how this one goes!

Flashback Friday

After receiving news of our little Baby X, I've been doing a lot of reflecting on my pregnancy with Brady and those first few days and months we had with him. As I look at him now, it's easy to overlook how far he's come and how quickly he's grown. Today, I was looking back at pictures of him the day he was born and of those first precious days. The first picture is of the first time we attempted to lay him in his crib. That little 5 pound body was lost. He could have swam in that crib! As you can probably guess that moment lasted long enough for me to snap a picture and then he was back in my arms...

The second photo was taken last week. Now he seems almost too big for that very same crib. Tugs at my heart just a little...

We parents say it all too often, "They grow up so fast!". But it's absolutely true! At least we have pictures like these to remind us to slow down just a bit and live in the moment.