Problems are for Solving

Theresa and I are pleased to announce that, around Thanksgiving Day, we are expecting another child to arrive here in Ebenezer House. Here’s a picture and something I wrote right before I got the pic last Wednesday:

Seven of the last eight pregnancies have not ended with a baby in our arms. They’ve ended with tears and sadness and a bitter tasting cup to drink. We have not gotten to hear those hearts beat. Not heard the cries of a newborn. A laugh, a first word–all outside of even my dreams.

It may be too early today. We may have to wait to know. Like I wait right now for them to call me in to possibly know nothing new.

I long right now to hear that patPATpatpat of the quick fetal hearttones- faster than even my old out of shape heart is on a treadmill. It is a beautiful sound- I know this because I can remember what it sounded like roughly two years ago when we sat in a room not knowing if we were going to get a baby after six consecutive miscarriages.

And there it was: Margary’s heartbeat. A sound of certain life that brought tears to our eyes. I’m not sure I’ve ever had a moment on this earth where a sound was that sweet.

And now I long once more, another child gone to be with God last October, to hear those sweet beats of a tiny tiny heart.

Yesterday, though, I realized something. While I cannot imagine a sweeter sound than those heartbeats right now, there is a sweeter sound that goes beyond my imagination that I know I will hear. And that is the voice of Jesus. It will be a sweeter sound than these earthly ears have ever heard as He welcomes me Home.

They called me in and there it is. A little sac in TC’s uterus. Inside? Our baby. And then there it was. a blinking pulse from there in the sac.

“Are there speakers?”

And she turned them on and I heard a sound that still leaves tears of joy in my eyes. That sound we’ve prayed to hear for the last two weeks. That sweet, sweet sound of a baby’s heart.

Thank You, Lord Jesus. Thank you! I praise Your name for this sweet sweet sound of a tiny heart in a tiny child. Thank you.

“Holy, holy Lord God Almighty!
“Worthy is the Lamb who was slain!
“Highest praises, honor and glory
“Be unto Your Name!”

We’ve never miscarried after hearing the heartbeat- but many women do. Please do stay in prayer for our little one.

We’ve chosen a good Calvinist pet name for this little one: baby Lucky. We hope he will be number seven in our home- arriving sometime around Thanksgiving, making that a sweet, sweet day of thanks for us.

From the Archives, April, 2005

So I’m riding home from work listening to an older Mars Hill Audio Journal (#64 from September/October 2003) and I hear an interview with Dr. Jeremy Begbie regarding his book, Theology, Music and Time.

In the interview (and I presume the book) he talks about how theology and music relate to one another—and especially within the context of time. During the interview Begbie speaks to Myers of chord progression and resolution. At one point, as a way of illustration, he plays what I think is a V⁷ chord which he says leaves us waiting for the resolution in the I chord.

I wasn’t sure I understood much of what he was talking about but he gave examples of how this resolution is put off and delayed in particular musical pieces (like in Fur Elise by Beethoven) and how the delay of this resolution makes the resolution even sweeter. He also talked about the presupposition of the V⁷ where the musical piece starts with the I chord in the pattern home, away, home again. This is the pattern of most western music.

I will want to talk to my friends Aaron, Anthony and Steve about this lecture and have them listen to it (they’re real musicians compared to my own amateur interest in the topic) and see if we can start a discussion that will fill out some of what Begbie was talking about for our own edification.

I hope to write more about this in a later after talking with my friends and listening to the interview again.

I rarely hear anyone refer to the plains as beautiful or majestic. In fact, other than the brief reference in Field of Dreams I can’t recall anyone ever lauding Iowa as a great and wonderful place.

Today my family began a trip west that involved driving from the eastern edge of Iowa and the quad-cities to the western edge and beyond—from the Mississippi river to the Missouri.

I took several pictures while we were in the last 2/3 of Iowa and I would definitely describe the landscape as beautiful and majestic. It was a beautiful day today—not too hot, and just a little occasional rain. The drive through Iowa was thoroughly enjoyable.

It is amazing to me as I travel the diversity of God’s creation. People always speak with awe of the creation when referring to Niagra Falls or the Rocky Mountains but those landscapes are few and far between. Iowa lasts for hundreds of miles and other than the occasional urban sprawl around the exits it was uninturupted, simple beauty.

Johnathan Edwards, I am told, defined beauty as a mixture of harmony and complexity. I have never liked that definition because I am convinced there is a beauty in simplicity as well. As we drive through these last few miles of Iowa and get ready to cross the wide Missouri River into Omaha I have a greater appreciation for the beauty of the simple, Iowa landscape. It sticks out to me right now againswt the backdrop of the hazy sky and the cityscape of Council Bluffs and Omaha.

God dwells in the beauty of holiness. The landscape of Iowa, too, is set apart for a particular use that glorifies and reflects the goodness and beauty of our God. May we never tire of appreciating more and more the variety of the beauty of God whether it is in the majesty of the Rockies or the simplicity of the plains.

Written 4/20/05