"merge like a zip"

I feel like I'm about to have my second baby in the same space of time.  I said yes to God to make this album a couple months after we found out we were pregnant with Ruby.  The whole album was recorded during the last month of my pregnancy, and now we're racing toward completion, and Ruby will be one month old tomorrow... it's a weird feeling.

Most of my friends and family, while they're proud of me, are probably secretly thinking I'm insane for trying to do this.  And sometimes, while I'm frantically dashing off emails over Ruby's head while she's feeding (like right now), I do feel a little manic.  But I've just kept thinking to myself, over and over, my favorite New Zealand highway sign, "Merge like a zip":

(The New Zealand road rule for blending two or more lanes into one: 

a zip is a zipper, for you Americans out there)

And it does seem to help!

Each day is flowing together in a different pattern, but somehow the baby's schedule, boys' schedules, CD details, James' studies, dishes, laundry, sleeping, friends, emails... somehow they're all merging (blurring!)  together, and what doesn't get done today gets saved for tomorrow, and I am learning to release and receive, release and receive.  Release my own agenda, and receive God's.  Release my nap, and receive Ruby, whimpering in my arms, as a gift.  Release control, and receive... peace.  I have my freak-out moments, every several days, but they're like red pimply blips along the path and then things settle back down to the whir and rhythm of "merge like a zip, merge like a zip"... 

And we are just a few days away from final mixing, final editing, and then mastering... and the CD cover graphics came through yesterday and look beautiful... and we are gathering quotes for duplicating  this dream gift from God to me, through me, so that it can be broken bread and poured out wine, passed out to God's people for the nourishment of their souls... and in the breaking and pouring, I am somehow nourished too.

Would you pray with me, as I rock and shush and swaddle and sing and croon, for the completion of this collection of songs, that it would be shining and shimmering grace?  That all the details would slip into place, that the final product would be exactly how I dreamed it would be, that it would be a blessing?  

choosing joy...

In the midst of baby brain, changing 10 nappies a day (or more!), juggling FIVE people's schedules (the smallest family member being the most adamant!), dealing with sleep deprivation, thrush, extra yucky viruses and stress...

Can I find joy?

The answer is YES, but it's a choice.  One I haven't been making very well lately... but this post from Sally Clarkson at I Take Joy has encouraged me!  I hope regardless of where you are today, it encourages you too.

Remember - joy is a CHOICE!  (because all the riches in the heavenly places already belong to us, and Christ in us is the hope of GLORY!  what's not to be happy about?)

Welcome, Ruby Grace!

We are so pleased and proud to welcome into our family

Ruby Grace Broughton

born 9 October 2012 at 8:15pm

Christchurch, New Zealand

8lbs 15oz (4.05kg)

22in (56cm) long

She is named after Carolyn's grandmother Ruby

and James' grandmother Gace who served in China,

two women known for their deep love for Jesus

and their lifelong passionate interest in people.

For Ruby, a poem my Dad used to sing to us growing up:

"Jewel Hymn"

William Cushing, 1856

Little children, little children,


Who love their Redeemer,


Are the jewels, precious jewels,


His loved and His own.

Like the stars of the morning,


His bright crown adorning,

They shall shine in their beauty,


Bright gems for His crown.

For Ruby, a song from her Aunt Kathryn:

"You Were Born"

Cloud Cult

You were born into a strange world.
Like a candle, you were meant to share the fire.
I don't know where we come from, and I don't know where we go.
But my arms were made to hold you, so I will never let you go.
Cuz you were born to change this life.
You were born to chase the light.
You were born...

Love your mother, yeah she's a good one.
She'll build you armor; keep you warm as a hen.
The stars may fall and the rains may pour,
But I will love you evermore.
You were born to make this right.
You were born to chase the light.
You were born...

Oh my precious, oh my love, when they come to take me,
I will hold you from above.
I don't know why we're here, and I don't know how,
But I'm here with you now, I am here with you now.
Cuz you were born to change this life.
Cuz you were born to make this right.
Cuz you were born to chase the light.

Sitting here,

(second day past my due date),

listening to the rough draft cuts

of these songs that grew out of my heart...

at peace.

magic!

Watching someone transpose thoughts from your head onto a computer screen is an eerie experience.  

It’s like that part in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, when Coriarkin (the magician on the Dufflepuds’ island), asks Drinian (the first mate), to describe their voyage thus far.  As Drinian talks, the whole journey appears as a detailed map on a parchment in front of them, full color and almost 3D.  

That’s how I felt today, watching this extremely clever music producer who's recording this album for me type out song after song in Sibelius (a program for producing sheet music) - it was like watching the invisible music in my head appear in ink on paper as I thought it.  For him, it was just all in a days’ work; for me, it was magic!  

for all moms (present or future) out there... if you read one thing today:

...read this.

It's from Sally Clarkson at I Take Joy.  I nearly cried.  Partly from how true her words are, and partly from the keen stinging sense of conviction that flooded over me, since my attitudes and actions the past few days have been the exact opposite of what she writes...

Here's a taste:

“One day, during some heavy, depleting financial issues in our family’s life, I decided to get up before everyone else. I made homemade pecan-apple pancakes, lit candles, put on soothing instrumental music, and had a lovely table set when the kids and Clay arose. We all enjoyed the breakfast surprise together. After we finished, Sarah was sitting next to me on the couch. She kissed my cheek and said, ‘You know, Mom, when you act happy and bring joy to our life, I feel secure and that all is well. But when you are upset and down, I feel guilty, like we have done something wrong and it makes me feel like brooding. Thanks for making the effort. I feel happy this morning.’

Go read the rest of it.  You'll be glad you did.

stream of consciousness...

How do you get started writing again when everything that was the background for the last post has changed?  Well, everything except the people in my life - and the two little boys I love are still clattering cars and diggers around on the floor, even though it's now in New Zealand instead of Kazakhstan.

Coming up on two weeks back in New Zealand, all fighting nasty cough-cold viruses, me feeling like I'm about to pop with this baby and with the added stresses of a transition next week into our semi-permanent home for 3 months, as well as the anticipated start of creating this album of songs... the thought of which is making me feel crazier and crazier every time it flits uncomfortably through my mind...  It's difficult to know how to put all this into words, which is why I haven't made an appearance in this space for the last month or so.

And here's Will for help with his car, and here's my mother-in-law home from an afternoon outing with some relatives in tow, and my quiet window of time has melted away... so this is all for now... more on my internal state soon...