Why am I so Huge?

January 19, 2015 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 9 Comments

my belly at 37 weeks with baby #8

I have always been small, short, petite, slim, and downright skinny. In my teenage years, in our society, being thin was a great asset. I received compliments on my very tiny waist and other girls tried hard to be small like me. But the truth was I did absolutely nothing to be so small. I ate whatever I wanted, ate A LOT of whatever I wanted and never really exercised. In fact, I felt too skinny…almost bony at times. I admired and still do admire women who have a bit more padding, who have womanly curves and an hour glass figure. Yet I knew that for me, that was not a possibility. Every part of me was small, and so at least I matched. Being tiny became part of who I was, my identity. I was the cute little one.

That was…until I started having babies. I was a normal size during my first pregnancy and returned to my tiny self in no time! I got a bit bigger with my second baby. I remember being out on a date with my husband. We were walking on a street in Denver trying to make it to the Cheesecake Factory. Rather, I was trying to make it to the Cheesecake factory. It was blocks and blocks away, and I was huffing and puffing under the weight of my baby. Some woman sitting on a bench called out, “Look, she is having twins!” I sure didn’t appreciate that comment, but I did give birth just two days after that, so I guess it makes sense that I was looking pretty round!

Each pregnancy seemed to stretch me a bit further than the previous one. I started growing out of the small maternity clothes and graduated to the medium ones. The comments about my hugeness became more and more frequent. I would try to stay in the house and not reveal my protruding belly whenever possible.

I was pregnant with baby number eight when two other ladies at church were pregnant too, with almost the same due date as me. Yet their bellies were so small and adorable. I was no longer the cute, little one. I was the gigantic, awkward one who would inspire wide eyed stares from younger women. I could almost read their thoughts, “Is that what I am going to look like when I am pregnant!!!!”

I purposely avoided the two cute, little pregnant ladies whenever I went to church. I was afraid of the comments and how massive I would look standing next to them.

“They are so much more beautiful and graceful than I am!” I would think to myself in self -pity.

Now I am on to pregnancy number nine. I was bigger than ever right from the start! This time even the midwife thought that I must be further along than I had thought, or I was having twins. An ultra sound at 10 weeks revealed one totally normal and healthy baby, right on schedule. The nice lady preforming the ultrasound commented on how easy it was to see my baby.

“Some babies are tucked way down into the pelvis, but yours is right out there!”

Yeah, right out there for the whole world and every ultrasound tech to see! Chris is used to my complaining about how big and fat I feel. Yet he put it all into perspective for me.

“You have easy pregnancies, easy deliveries, and healthy babies. Some women would do anything to be able to get pregnant and you are complaining about being too big?”

He was so right! What did I have to complain about? I have never had any problems or complications or risk factors associated with my pregnancies. I have had beautiful, natural births. My babies have all been born early at wonderfully normal birth weights. They all have taken to nursing right away. Most of them have slept great and have been very happy. I have a grace for pregnancy and childbirth. So what that I am so big! That is only temporary and doesn’t change who I am.

So I am pregnant and huge and guess what? Those two lovely ladies are pregnant again right along with me! They are tiny and cute, but I have actually sought them out to spend more time with them. I have been so blessed and encouraged by their conversation and company and realized what I missed when I was being overly self- conscience. I am now six months along, fully filling out the medium maternity clothes that took me to nine months in previous pregnancies. Looks like I need to get LARGE now. Even my husband, who instructs others that you should NEVER comment on the size of a pregnant woman, told me that he couldn’t imagine how I could get any bigger! Oh well. It is worth it to bring my precious baby girl into the world! And I will be back to my normal, little, cute self someday…eventually, hopefully…I think probably, almost definitely I will.

If you and I run into each other (you will be running, I will be waddling) before this baby is born, feel free to tell me that I am glowing or lovely or graced for pregnancy. No need to use these statements:

“Wow, you are big!”

“Are you sure there is only one in there?”

“Gosh, that is going to be a big baby!”

“So, you are due any day now, right?”

Believe me; I don’t need you to point out my mind blowing size. I live with myself every day. I carry around this very obvious belly and feel my clothes getting tighter and experience the increasing back pain.

If you just can’t help yourself and you have to say something about how huge I am, I might just haul off and punch you in the face. I would only do it in my mind though. To your face I would smile and nod. Even though I am very big right now, I am still the same sweet, gracious person I have always been…except perhaps a bit more irritable. Chris would say that I am a lot more irritable…so be careful…just warning you.

My Daughter is My Hero

January 13, 2015 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 2 Comments

Areli Endura, my firstborn and my oldest daughter, how can I begin to describe her? I heard both of her unusual names in Belize when I was there on a mission trip. I thought they were the most beautiful girl names I had ever heard, and filed them in my brain under, “What to call my firstborn daughter.” Well, a girl has never been more appropriately named. Areli is Hebrew and means, “Heroic.” Endura means endurance. My daughter displays her heroism with an amazing endurance that allows her to continue being my hero day in and day out.

Areli was the sweetest baby. I didn’t know a thing about being a mom, but Areli made it a breeze. She was almost always happy, and slept through the night at six weeks. She did give us a scare when she stopped gaining weight from 2 months until 4 months of age. In my inexperience, I didn’t realize that a two month old should not be sleeping 12 continuous hours at night without a feeding. As soon as I started to wake her up to nurse her more often, she started gaining weight again.

As a baby, she would wake up during the night very infrequently. When she did, she would cry quietly and the go back to sleep. One night she let out a cry and then went back to sleep as usual. Normally I wouldn’t check on her but would just go back to sleep myself. This night something compelled me to walk into the hall and I smelled that something wasn’t right. When I entered her room I realized what had happened. She had gotten sick all over her crib sheets and let out a cry. Then she simply settled down in a dry corner of her bed and went back to sleep! How thankful I was that I could clean her up and put my uncomplaining baby back to sleep on fresh sheets!

When my second baby was born, he seemed to be the opposite of Areli, waking up constantly and crying with loud persistent wails. Areli was only 18 months old and still slept in her crib. She would sleep in each morning and then play happily by herself until I could drag myself out of bed in the morning, sometimes as late as 10am! Her sweet personality persisted as she grew, always wanting to please, always being kind to others.

One morning when she was 5 years old, she came downstairs clutching her belly. She simply went and lay down on the couch and moaned in pain. I hardly ever have to take my children to the doctor, but I knew something was wrong. She never acted this way! I immediately took her and the three younger children to an urgent care clinic. They in turn immediately sent us to the emergency room, convinced that she was suffering from an appendicitis. Areli endured the pain through waiting and lots of tests.

The day had turned into night, Chris was flying home from a job in New York, and nothing had been done to help Areli. Areli was in the greatest pain of her life, yet she was still quiet and uncomplaining. All the nurses adored her and would bring her anything they could find to cheer her up; puzzles, a special quilt, and a stuffed animal. When a nurse gave Areli a very strong pain medication, Areli got her first relief of the day. She also became quite loopy. She turned to the nurse and said in a goofy voice, “I love you!” It was obvious to me that the feeling was mutual.

Unbelievably, they sent her home! The next day brought the same intense pain. I had to take all of my children (four, five and under) to a follow-up appointment. All Areli could do was sit in the stroller and moan every time I hit a bump. Finally we saw the doctor and he said, “We had better operate.” This is another story of God’s faithfulness that maybe I will tell at another time. Through it all, Areli was a gem!

As Areli got older she continued to show this ability to remain steady and calm during sickness, pain, and 6 extremely annoying younger brothers. She was always quick to forgive and the first one to offer to help.

The most amazing thing was the stories that I heard after the fact, told to me by her brothers, about how Areli had saved their lives! The first incident happened when Areli was around 8 years of age. She and Cole and Cadin were invited to a friend’s birthday party at an indoor pool. I was very nervous to allow them to go without me or Chris attending, since none of them had officially learned how to swim. Chris insisted that they would be fine, and that his friend Paul would watch over them. When they returned from the party, Cadin relayed this terrifying story to me. Maybe it wasn’t that big of a deal, but my mother’s heart began to tremble! Cadin had torn out of the dressing room long before Paul was ready. He ran directly to the deeper end of the pool and jumped right in. It was at that point that Cadin realized that he couldn’t swim, nor could he touch the sides or bottom of the pool. He started to struggle and sink under the water. Areli was the first one there to save him. She jumped in despite the fact that she couldn’t swim either. She held on to the side to the pool with one arm and grabbed Cadin with the other, pulling him to the wall as much a she could. The grandmother of the birthday boy noticed what was going on. She reached down and pulled Cadin to safety.

Talking about this amazing example of heroics a few months ago, Cole piped up.

“Oh yeah, Areli saved my life too!” It turns out that when we were camping in 2011, we were all enjoying the pool. Cole had worn himself out but still decided to jump into the deep end. Again, he was not a strong swimmer. He found himself too weak to swim and too weak to call out for help. Areli was the first one to realized that Cole was sinking, and she threw him a life-preserver. This hero just saved brother number two!

Three months ago I was getting ready in the upstairs bathroom as the other children were playing downstairs. Chai came upstairs to tell me about an event that had just taken place in my own home while I was completely unaware. My insides started to tremble again!

Chai had put a small Lego in his mouth. Why do boys do things like that? He is 9 and knows better! He accidentally swallowed it, but it got stuck on the way down. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t call out, and he couldn’t make a sound! Cole noticed his distress and brought him to Areli. She thought fast and realized that she probably didn’t have time to bring him to me. So she performed the Heimlich maneuver on him herself, sending that Lego flying!

As a mother, I am always thinking about my children’s safety, always making and enforcing rules to keep them safe, always training them to be safe, always checking on them. Yet I know that it is impossible to watch even one child every moment of everyday. I am not in control of every action and reaction. Yet I know that God IS in control! I am almost constantly praying for them, placing them into God’s hands and asking Him to keep his angels right next to them to deliver them from danger. Well, at least three times that angel has been my daughter, Areli!

I cannot even describe my deep, deep gratitude and relief!

Areli does something that is perhaps even more heroic every day. She has the endurance to help around the house, love her annoying…er, I mean precious and adorable siblings, excel in her school work and have a sweet disposition almost EVERY, SINGLE DAY! Now that I am pregnant, Areli does even more.

She shares a room with her special needs sister who is 11, but acts like a three-year old. Every morning Areli changes Ashlyn’s pull-up, gets her dressed, puts the special braces on her feet, and takes her potty.

Then Areli goes down to the kitchen and makes kefir, oatmeal, and a smoothie. She serves breakfast to her brothers and sister and then cleans up the very messy kitchen. She puts in a load of laundry and goes off to work on her cyber school for hours. At lunch, she helps to prepare the food, cleans the kitchen again, and does more laundry. Then she sits Ashlyn on the potty again, changes her, and puts her to bed for nap. During nap Areli works on more school and watches over the house while I take a rest. In the evening she cleans the kitchen for the third time and puts Ashlyn to bed for the night. In her free time I see her reading her Bible and taking notes. She loves God and it shows!

She babysits for me whenever I need to do an errand or whenever Chris and I get a date night. She has witnessed the birth of her four youngest brothers and has helped to care for them. One of the baby boys even slept in Areli’s room at night, and Areli would hold him and comfort him when he woke up. She tells me that she is so excited to have the new baby girl in her room. She loves babies.

She really does enjoy spending time with the family and being our family photographer. Practically every single photo on this blog was taken by Areli.

Some days she looks worn out. Some days she acts like if she doesn’t get away from the younger Brandenburg brood, she is going to explode! But most days she is joyful, helpful, and efficient. Chris and I love to reward her with special gifts, time out with friends, time doing Youth Group activities, and letting her relax in the evening later than any of the other children. I know that God desires to reward her even more!

Without Areli, I couldn’t handle all of my mothering duties. I wonder how I will ever make it when she grows up and moves out!

It seems to me that there could never be a young man worthy enough to deserve my Areli.

It is probably very unlikely that any young men will be reading my blog. But perhaps their mothers will be. So let me make my prayers for a son-in-law known. I have prayed that he would be twice the servant that my heroic daughter is. That he would excel at serving, having practiced all of his growing up years. That once he marries my daughter, he would make it his life’s goal to out serve her and never take advantage of her giving spirit. I pray that he would be passionate for God, out doing Areli in seeking after Him and obeying Him in everything. I pray that he would be a man who considers fatherhood his most lofty goal and children his most precious resource.

` All of my children are amazing and I could write an article like this about each one of them. (Maybe I will someday!) But today I am considering this beautiful young woman who truly is my hero and the joy of my heart!

Christmas and the Seasons of My Life

December 30, 2014 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 3 Comments

I love the Christmas season. I am sorry to see it end so quickly. As I enjoyed the sights and sounds and smells of this glorious time, I remembered all of the Christmases that I have known.

As a child, the magic of Christmas emerged from the basement and took residence in our home once again, as we hung our stockings, trimmed our tree and set up the manger scene. I would study the solemn cast of characters in the small wooden stable all covered with moss. I would lie under our artificial tree, looking up through the branches at the multicolored lights and soak in the wonder of it all. We would attend our Quaker Meeting’s yearly tradition; a potluck dinner (with an entire room full of desserts) followed by a carol sing and candlelight service.

I would sit on a bench in that meeting room surrounded by the scent of evergreen branches and the flickering, golden light. I would listen to the members of the congregation read the Christmas story from the Bible. The words sounded so beautiful and sacred to me.

I remember the Christmases of my teenage years. I had a small group of friends who were all very talented singers. I could sing a melody clear and true. My friends could harmonize any song in the most beautiful way. We began a tradition of gathering at my house and then venturing out into the cold to sing carols to my neighbors. The most beautiful music I have ever heard was made by our voices lifted into the frosty night air. I felt so blessed to be a part of that wonderful sound of praise. I have not been able to make such beautiful melodies matched with such lovely harmonies since that season, and I miss it, especially at Christmas. I console myself with the thought that someday heaven will be filled with music like that all the time!

I think back to our very first Christmas as a married couple. We were excited to have some family and friends over to our very first place for Christmas dinner. It was only a tiny apartment with no real furniture, but it was ours. We got a little tree and decorated it with the set of tiny, wooden ornaments that my grandmother had given us…our only ornaments!

Those precious little things have since gone into hiding, being choking hazards and not suitable for a house perpetually inhabited by at least one baby and one toddler. But that Christmas, there were no babies yet. I wanted to make some dessert for our dinner, yet I hadn’t planned ahead. I had only flour, sugar, and some Hershey Kisses. I made a trip to the closest gas station (the only place open on Christmas morning) and made some short bread. That evening, everyone piled into our small kitchen to eat around card tables, and it seemed a very joyous occasion.

I remember Christmases with little ones. It was hard to keep the ornaments on the tree, and the wrapping paper was much more appreciated than the gifts themselves. I remember the 7 Christmases that I was pregnant. I wasn’t feeling very good during most of those, and didn’t care if we even put up a tree. But I still enjoyed the joy and excitement in those little faces.

One of our children was conceived over the Christmas holiday. What a precious gift! The baby was a boy, and all our boys have names that begin with the letter “C.” Chris and I joked that we should name him, Colorado Christmas Conception. We decided to go with Chai Erik instead!

This year was a lovely Christmas. I was pregnant but feeling very good!

We had our 8^th annual Christmas party with a house full of friends and caroling around the neighbor hood.

Chai demonstrating the joy of caroling!

We attended the candlelight service at our church and felt that holiness again. On Christmas morning our house was full of two parents, one grandmother, teenagers, preteens, children, and a toddler.

We had a little of everything from toys to video games,

from big helpers to little messer-uppers.

A glorious chaos of noise and joy,

frustration and love!

I wanted to soak in every detail of the present Christmas, as I knew it would never come around again.

The teenagers will be thinking about college. The preteens will become teens. The younger ones will grow into more mature ones.

We will get older and wiser and never be quite the same people we are right now. Only God knows what each new Christmas will bring. My vision of Christmas future is a huge dining room table surrounded by my children, their spouses, and their children; my grandchildren! There could end up being quite a lot of them…perhaps 10, 20, 30, or more!

Looking back over all the Christmas seasons of my life there is a common thread. Always there is Jesus, lying in the manger; whether he is small or large,

made from wood or ceramic,

set up high on a self or cradled in the arms of a child.

Jesus is always there. Yet the baby Jesus is just a symbol…a symbol of God’s amazing, crazy, unfathomable love!

Jesus is a baby so longer. He grew and became a man. He pleased his Father in every way. He was obedient in everything, even obedient to die on a cross. He was revealed as the Lamb that was slain before the foundations of the world. He decided to die for us before any of us were even here. He set us free to enjoy all the wonderment and joy that the human heart can possess!

Yet looking back, I also see him as a Lion. The Lion of the Tribe of Judah, always at my side, whether I knew He was there or not. A strong and ferocious kind of God; violent in dealing with my enemies and fears and doubts, unrelenting in His jealousy for me, bold and courageous in the ways He loves me, yet soft and gentle when He draws me near. That Lion was always with me; during the innocent years of childlike faith when I would talk to Him every night before falling asleep. During the cynical early teenage years when I sat in that candlelight service and thought how foolish someone must be to believe that a baby born in Bethlehem was actually God. During my last years in High School, discovering the wonder of a real God who loved me just as I was. During my young married years when I didn’t know very much about anything. During all of the pregnancies and births and babies and toddlers and growing and learning and sorrows and joys. Jesus was there!

The Great I AM limited Himself to the smallness and helplessness of a baby just so He could always and forever BE WITH US! May we never get over the miracle of Christmas; that the Lion and the Lamb, the Almighty God IS WITH US! And we can spend eternity exploring the height and depth and breadth of His great love for us.

Merry Christmas!!!

The Very Poopy Christmas of 2008

December 16, 2014 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 1 Comment

I hope this story isn’t too personal or gross to qualify as a heartwarming Christmas tale, but this was all I had within me during the very poopy Christmas of 2008.

We had a beautiful Blue Spruce standing in our living room. The Christmas decorations had been brought up from the basement. The soothing voice of Bing Crosby was coming through the stereo. Ah, this is just like the Christmases from my sweet childhood memories. Well…not quite the same. There were six children instead of two scrambling to grab Christmas decorations. The older children seemed to clump all the decorations onto one section of the tree, while the younger children were intent on pulling them off as soon as they were put on.

I was not feeling as excited this year about decorating as in my youth. Yes, the exhaustion and nausea of my first trimester was definitely putting a damper on my Christmas spirit. I realized that the tree was being trimmed rather haphazardly, and it was leaning slightly to the left. Yet I had no energy to fix it.

“Oh well,” I thought, “It will just have to lean this year.” Truly my deepest heart’s desire was to crawl into bed and sleep until New Years. There was also a strange smell drifting through the house that was never present in my childhood memories.

Clang! Bang! Loud noises were emanating from the downstairs bathroom. Chris was entirely missing the tree trimming this year because of a project in the bathroom. Earlier in the week our toilet began backing up. After it got clogged for the 7^th time, our oldest boy Cole spoke up.

“Oh yeah, I remember that I saw Cooper drop a toy in the toilet and then he flushed!” he offered. I suspected that the toilet clogger was really Cole himself…yet Cooper does have an unusual fascination with the potty. Chris was in the bathroom having to rip the entire toilet off of the floor.

“I found the toy but I can’t get it out!” yelled Chris in frustration.

“Try putting oil on it!” I suggested.

“There’s enough poop on it!” He yelled back.

“I don’t think poop is very lubricating.” I said.

“I AM THE EXPERT ON POOP AROUND HERE!” he bellowed.

Considering the smell and the amount of time Chris had been working, I believed him!

Our tree eventually got trimmed.

The bathroom got put back together. Yet I prayed “God, there has to be more to the Brandenburg Christmas this year, more than nausea and broken toilets.”

Then I thought of Mary having to birth her first baby alone, in a stable. It probably didn’t smell too good either. Yet she had angels come sing praises to her baby. And of course there were the shepherds and wise men who came to confirm what she knew in her heart; that her baby was a King. Those visitations must have helped her through some difficult days ahead.

In these difficult days it is hard to see the purpose in our crazy, exhausting lives. I had no angels singing when my children were born. Yet I had something even better – The Word of the Lord! I heard God saying at the birth of each of my children, “This is a chosen one. I knew this one before I made the world and he has a destiny. She will conquer mountains and do great exploits for me!”

When I see the mess that my house is right now and the mess that my children make, I keep my eyes on eternity. I can see each child standing before the throne of God. I see Jesus embracing each one and calling him or her his friend. I see their reward for the spoils they took from the enemy. I know that their reward is my legacy. And here is the key to my hope. I know that all this is true; not because I am a good mother but because GOD SAID it was true.

So I thank God for this holiday season with all of its promise. Promise that is symbolized by a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a stinky manger!

Broken is the New “Just Right”

December 10, 2014 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 5 Comments

Sure, I am a mother of many boys with aggression and hyperactivity all around me all of the time. But I am still a girl who likes pretty things, who wants to make her home a peaceful oasis. My efforts are continually being thwarted by those unruly boys. My lovely house plant becomes inhabited by plastic frogs. My beautiful framed art is accessorized with suction cup Nerf bullets. My delicate blue and white china collection is transformed into a war zone for Star Wars Lego Storm Troopers.
I had just finished decorating for Christmas when I noticed this sorry fellow in the photograph, still bravely manning his post despite the fact that he had both of his arms ripped off.

He seems to be telling me, “Yes, I know that I am not as you were hoping me to be, and you would like to remove me from your shelf and toss me into the trash. But wait…God uses the imperfect and impossible all the time. I may be just the finishing touch that you need.”

So there you have it. Broken is the new “just right,” and God can use all of us! I am so thankful so that He can use me even though I am broken…maybe because I am broken. And I am thankful for a house full of boys who break things…and sometimes make them better.

God is a Strange Kind of Blesser

December 2, 2014 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 1 Comment

I have a good man. One of the best! We have gone through our share of trials together, and I have watched him weather storm after storm. I have seen him carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. I have witnessed him straining under the overwhelming burden of it, trying with all his strength to simply stay afloat.

We have had many struggles during our marriage. We have had times when we couldn’t pay our bills, we were getting calls from creditors threatening to take our home, and we were expecting that our vehicles would be repossessed. We have gone through many financial storms such as layoffs and economic downturns. We have followed trusted leaders into a treacherous sea of financial decisions and then have been abandoned, left to navigate to shore alone. We have made our share of bad decisions, landing us in overwhelming debt. We have also lived through the death of one dream after another, dreams that could have rescued us and put us on solid ground again.

One night a few years ago, we watched “Cinderella Man” together. It became one of my favorite movies because it depicted something we had been through. A young family with children to take care of. A man wanting to work so badly, but there was no work to be found. Things went from bad to worse in the middle of the Great Depression. Finally he got a break. His former boxing trainer had gotten him a fight! He would most certainly lose, but he would get paid. He jumped at the chance to provide for his family! The thought of being pummeled and hit until he was bloody was nothing to him. No suffering could compare to the thought of his children going without food. Miraculously, he won the fight and eventually was in line to fight for the heavyweight title. His opponent was a bear of a man who had killed someone in the ring with one knockout punch. When James J. Braddock was talking to the media about how he had become such an amazing boxer when previously he was only mediocre, this was his answer, “Now I know what I am fighting for…milk.”

At this point Chris made a comment that I will never forget. He said, “I would submit to a public beating if it would cancel all our debts.”

I almost wept right there! The heart of a man who stands up and fights for his family against seemingly unbeatable odds! Is there anything more courageous? Chris had no opportunity to get into the ring like Jimmy Braddock, but he did work two jobs for four years to get us out of debt. He worked hard, and he worked well. He was diligent and did everything with wisdom and integrity. In the midst of it, he realized that all of these jobs would drain him of his energy and time but never provide what we needed for our every growing family.

When Chris had the opportunity to buy a business, he jumped at it. He knew it would be a lot of work at first, but eventually he would be able to earn more as the owner and boss then he ever could as an employee. He leaped out of the boat and started to swim into uncharted waters with faith and excitement. It was true that we had failed many times before, but this time would be different!

It was about four months into owning the new business that we ran out of money. We knew that God had led us there, but we didn’t know how to move forward. I felt this amazing peace that everything would be just fine. I didn’t know how, but I knew that God did, so I could trust Him.

Chris, on the other hand, had to go into work each day and try to figure out how he was going to buy materials to make signs and how he was going to pay his employees to make the signs. On and on the troubles went day after day. The days turned into weeks, and no miraculous provision materialized. Things went from bad to worse.

I had seen Chris upset and discouraged before, but never like this. In his mind, he had failed. He had taken every resource we had and put it into this dream of a better life…and he had lost it all. The darkness surrounding him was so thick; I could hardly get through it. I could see that he was so tired of years of fighting and struggling, and his deepest heart’s desire was to just give up…on the business, on trying, on life. His father had left him before he was old enough to remember. Chris had vowed to himself that he would never leave his children fatherless. So he kept fighting although he had lost almost all hope. He kept going to work day after day, even though he felt it was useless.

He couldn’t see it, but I saw a miracle occurring. Instead of getting angry and trying to ease his pain with distractions, Chris became humble and quiet. He leaned into God. He went to church whenever he could, and I saw him worship God in the midst of his hopelessness!

One night we both went to church because they were offering personal prophecies. Boy, did we need a word from the Lord. Any type of encouragement would be a life-preserver! We sat down in the theater of our church and waited for one of the pastoral staff to come and pray for us. Anne Stock, a senior pastor, kneeled down to where we were sitting and began to pray. Her words were the very opposite of what Chris was expecting. He was feeling like the biggest loser and screw-up there ever was. Yet her prayer went something like this:

“God is enlarging you, showing you one more side. You are ready. He is showing you another dimension. Don’t be concerned. It is good. I pray for Grace to do this different and new thing. This is happening in your life right now is because He likes you! HE IS A STRANGE KIND OF BLESSER. You are going to make it through this fire not even smelling like smoke, because there is a 4^th man in the fire. The fire is only burning that which had you bound; only the things that kept you from being free. Your heart will come out unscathed. Strength!”

Chris was blown away. God actually liked him and was blessing him. Our struggles were not because he was destined to be a loser for the rest of his life. It was because God knew he was ready to face this new trial and be enlarged by it.

I watched Chris begin to trust God more like a good Father, the good father that he had never had. We looked on as God provided dramatic miracles to keep our business going, not just once, but twice! And we see God doing the small miracles, day by day as we go into our fourth year. We have lost the concern for our own lives. Whether we fail or succeed is not so important. Instead we are living to see the kingdom of God come to our little sphere of influence, however God wants to do it.

God is a strange kind of blesser! As I look back over my life, the worst of times have always been linked to the very best of times. When I was depressed or stressed or sick or so tired I couldn’t go on, that is when God met me and shook my world with His amazing words. Words that have healed me and shaped who I am. Words that I can offer to others to give them hope and meaning. God is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit (PS 34:18). What a blessing it is to have God so close! Anything that comes into your life, no matter how evil or heartbreaking, can be turned around for good. God can use absolutely anything to bless you!

If you look over the lives of famous history makers such a Joseph (in the Bible), Squanto, George Washington Carver, Corrie ten Boom, and even contemporaries such as Roland and Heidi Baker, you can see it! You can see the crushing trials and loss that God used to bring about great blessings, not just for them but for the entire world. If you are facing hard times, remember, your destiny is so great, so important, that God cannot leave you as you are. He knows that there is an amazing treasure inside of you. He knows that this trial will cause your roots to go deep down into His living waters.

He knows that you are in the process of growing so deep and so wide and so strong, that all the powers of hell and all the forces on earth couldn’t move you from God’s purposes. And in the midst of it all – His blessings overflow!

The More Children I have, the More Blessed I Become

November 23, 2014 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 4 Comments

Babies are a blessing! When they look up at you with the blue eyes they got from you and smile a dimply smile they got from their Dad, you think to yourself, “Surely there is nothing better in the entire universe than this precious little one!”

Yet babies can be a lot of work with all the crying, diapering, laundry, training, and worrying that is involved. And toddlers! Wow, the work just multiplies. A huge amount of energy is spent just keeping them from death and injury as they begin to explore their world with abandon.

Young children need to learn all sorts of things such as: the alphabet, addition facts, what president is on the penny, what a president is, how to be polite, how to get rid of the monsters in their closet, and how to wipe their little butts. This constant instruction can be frustrating and draining.

As they get older the training expands to chores, homework, and interpersonal relationships. It becomes apparent at this point that these children have developed personality traits that are nothing like yours, and you wonder how this could have happened! They have behavioral issues that you never expected and don’t quite know how to handle because frankly, you expected your children to be nearly perfect just like you.

Then you begin to relate to the parents who act as though their children are more of a burden than a blessing. They make jokes about how their children drive them crazy, and how they definitely don’t want ANY MORE of those little monsters!! They love them desperately…but they kind of dread the summer when they have to be with them day in and day out. You understand…because sometimes you feel that way too! Oh, for some alone time! Oh, for peace and quite! Oh, for some extra money to buy something for yourself!

The Bible says that children are a reward and a heritage from the Lord. Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them! (Ps 127:3-5) God says that birth, pregnancy, and conception are our glory. (Hosea 9:11) Pregnancy, babies, fruitfulness, and many children were God’s blessing to his people when they were obedient to him. (Ex 23:26 and Lev 26:9) To have a lot of children in your family is a sign of God’s favor and blessing on your life.

Let me tell you all the ways I have become more and more blessed with each child.

It is true that children are a lot of work, but all the work has taught me about how to be more organized, more efficient, and more time effective. My time has become so precious to me, and I don’t spend it on any old thing. I use it as wisely as I know how. I have been so blessed by giving up stupid TV shows and filling my time with relationships, learning, reading, and drawing close to God. I am a better and more knowledgeable person for all the hard work I have done. Now I am able to train my children to be hard and efficient workers as well. Some of them even enjoy an organized home and a job well done! What a blessing!

It is true that children are so emotionally draining. All the crying that is not comforted by my best mothering efforts could lead me to depression. All the nightmares and fears I am called upon to calm, all the yelling and disagreements that I am required to negotiate, all the disobedience and disrespect I am expected to correct WITHOUT anger could drive me completely insane! Instead, it highlights my weaknesses and drives me right into the arms of God. I depend on Him for everything. I look to Him for every answer. I seek Him for everything my children need, because I know that I just don’t have it all within me. I go to Him every time I fail and trust that He will cause my children to be just fine despite the fact that their mother is grossly inadequate. I pray constantly and continually for their bodies, their souls, and their spirits. He amazes me with His promises for them, and overwhelms me with His love for them. Without all these children, I would never be so close to my heavenly Father who parents me perfectly. I am so blessed to have such a close relationship with God, and I am so blessed to feel His precious grace increase every time He gives me another baby.

It is true that children cost a lot of money. They are constantly growing and needing new everything! Yet for every child that God gives, he gives the money and resources to go along with that child. We have a big house because we have a lot of children. We did not get the big house first and then decide that we could have more children. We have resources constantly flowing to us because we had a lot of children. We didn’t wait for the resources and extra money in the bank before we decide to have more children.

I have bought very few children’s clothes in the past 16 years. Clothes just come to us through friends and relatives. Nice Clothes! Beautiful clothes! Barely or never worn clothes! I have bins and bins and bins of clothes in the attic just waiting for a child to grow out of their current wardrobe! We have had people give us a refrigerator and another person gave us a huge chest freezer for free! Then we have other friends who get us amazing prices on boxes and boxes of food to fill all of the refrigerators and freezers!

If one of our children needs something, we pray together for God to bring it to us…and He does. It is so fun to witness the unusual and unexpected ways that He does it. When the time comes for bigger needs such a cars and college educations, I know that the miracles will be there.

I have heard many amazing testimonies from missionaries who go out on the mission field with very little resources. They simply have a raw faith that they are doing God’s work and God will provide…and He does. God loves my children just as much as he loves the heathen people in the jungles of the Amazon. I can expect miracles in my own life just as the missionary does. What an exciting life I get to live, a life of faith and miracles! What a blessed life I have!

As I have more children, my workload actually lessens and my life becomes easier. Why? Children go from being liabilities to being assets. They can work! They can do chores and do laundry and cook and clean and take care of babies, and if you train them right, they can run the entire household without you even being there. Oh, the glory of seeing a clean kitchen and knowing that you didn’t have to wash a single dish! Oh, the wonder of a date night with your husband as the older children put the younger children to bed. Oh, the beauty of returning home from a lovely evening out to find peace and order without handing out money to a babysitter.

Being pregnant is so much easier with lots of children and teenagers around. I don’t have to hurt my back doing housework. I don’t have to bend down to get anything with all those eager, little hands. And everyone wants to hold the baby and learn how to change his diapers. Blessings abound!

What could be better than fun and adventurous family times? To experience new and different things together is awesome. To go on trips and vacations with so many playmates around is loads of fun. At home on a normal day, there is no lack of conversation! The cooing and babbling of the baby keeps us delighted. The hilarious comments of the younger children keep us laughing. The constant questions of the curious ones keep us alert. The unexpected and imaginative thoughts of all the children keep us in wonder and awe! The adult conversations with the teenagers keep us company and enrich our lives. The love exchanged between us all is what we live for. And what a lovely, blessed life it is!

I can only guess at all the blessings that will be mine when each child becomes a mature, responsible adult. How lovely it will be when I witness them becoming who God created them to be, when they are displaying their unique gifts and callings. And when they become parents with children of their own, all those grandchildren will be one adorable blessing after another!

I can only imagine what it will be like someday when I stand before God and He pulls back the veil. I will be able to see clearly the impact that my children had on the world and on eternity. What inconceivable blessings will be mine, forever and forever!

When people see me out with all of my children, they seem a little shocked that there are so many of them. When friends and strangers alike learn that I have eight children and one on the way, their reactions are all very similar. At first they seem very surprised and confused (Like they are asking themselves, “Do people really have 9 children these days?”) Then they give me a look that says, “You are absolutely crazy, you know that don’t you!” But they usually don’t make that comment out loud. What they do say, almost universally across the board is, “Wow, you have your hands full!” and “God bless you!” I have been blessed more times that I can count! Every time I meet someone new, they say to me,

“God bless you!”

I know that words have power. With words like those being spoken over me every time I go out, I feel like the most blessed woman in the world!

The Term is Over: the Holidays Have Begun

November 17, 2014 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 4 Comments

It doesn’t take much. Just a cool breeze, the smell of bread in the toaster, or the sound of a train whistle. I am transported to my carefree childhood summers, spent at my maternal grandparents’ home in Wisconsin. The memories flood my mind and I am filled with a sense of peace and order…and a terrible longing to go back there again. Not just to the home, but to the time when I didn’t have the responsibilities of adulthood on my shoulders. To the time when my days consisted of sitting in the sun reading an old book I found in the attic (like Louisa May Alcott’s Old Fashioned Girl), or feeding chipmunks out of my hand, or playing Cowboys and Indians in the yard.

The memories are a bit fuzzy and golden with age. I remember more of the good and less of the bad. I remember the cleanliness and order of the home, the cool wood floors and the shaggy aqua carpet. I remember the wall paper in the kitchen, decorated with pictures of fanciful boutiques.

I remember eating Papa’s homemade rhubarb jam at the kitchen table that boasted an eating surface made entirely of glass. How enchanting that table seemed to me. It was like the table in Alice in wonderland through which a shrunken Alice saw the all important key. The tragedy of being able to see your heart’s desire but being unable to reach it was not lost on me.

I remember the sun room that served as the bedroom for my brother and me on those summer nights. We would lie on the perfect sofas, full of swirling colors and patterns from the 60s and listen to Alice and Wonderland on the record player as we were falling asleep.

I said goodbye to my grandmother at her funeral on a frigid Wisconsin winter day. I felt like I wanted to say goodbye to her home as well, which contained most of my memories of her. My husband drove me to 921 Humbolt Ave. Grammy had sold it years before, but I was surprised by how different it looked. Sure, it was surrounded with snow rather than all the greens and reds and oranges of summer. But it just wasn’t as beautiful as I remembered it. And there was a hot tub outback were Grammy’s cucumbers used to grow! Was it that my memories were just better than reality…or had the place really changed so much under new ownership? One thing was clear to me; I could never physically return to the place that had brought me such joy. I could never relive the memories in that house of the people who were so dear. I felt a grief flood my soul at the irrevocable loss.

I felt a similar grief and bewilderment when I drove past the childhood home of my father after his passing. I had wonderful memories of that little house as well, the home of my Grandmother and Grandfather Beyer. The yard was like a fairy wonderland, full of trees and ferns and mosses, dotted with bird seed for the always welcomed feathered friends. The inside was always exactly the same. Every piece of furniture, every old and charming knickknack, just where it had been the last visit, always polished and dusted. The only change I remember over the years was the addition of a large TV the sat on the floor. My brother and I thought we had hit the jackpot as we watched the early years of MTV on that TV.

Grandfather always had to show us some wildlife slides, play a classical piece on his record player, or read us the Robert Louis Stevenson poem about how the robin ate the “fellar raw.” He would always let out a loud chuckle after he read that line. Grandmother wanted to sit on the sofa with us and read Snip, Snap, and Snur.

Their kitchen always smelled like coffee and contained one of my favorite treats…malted milk tablets. The upstairs had beds for all of us, a strange bath tub, and a little kitchen that we never used. We visited during the Thanksgiving holiday each year. I remember my mom addressing what seemed to be hundreds of Christmas cards, spread out over their living room.

When we drove past the home after my father’s internment, I was shocked at what I saw. The yard had been cleared of most of the trees and looked barren. The house was tiny and rather unpleasant. What had happened to the 75 Prospect Street that I remembered. It was gone forever…and I mourned that loss.

But are they truly gone? Need we mourn when something beautiful on this earth passes away, or is destroyed, or is changed beyond recognition? I found a lovely picture of hope in The Last Battle by C.S. Lewis. It is one of my favorite books containing one of my favorite descriptions of heaven. The Pevensie children, along with their Narnian companions, find themselves in a beautiful land after Narnia had been destroyed. They grieved for their beloved land, but they began to notice that this new place was oddly familiar.

“Kings and Queens,” he (Farsight the Eagle) cried, “we have all been blind. We are only beginning to see where we are. From up there I have seen it all – Ettinsmuir, Beaversdam, the Great River, and Cair Paravel still shining on the edge of the Eastern Sea. Narnia is not dead. This is Narnia.”…

“The Eagle is right,” said the Lord Digory. “Listen Peter. When Aslan said you could never go back to Narnia, he meant the Narnia you were thinking of. But that was not the real Narnia. That had a beginning and an end. It was only a shadow or a copy of the real Narnia which has always been here and always will be here: just as our own world, England and all, is only a show or copy of something in Aslan’s real world. You need not mourn over Narnia, Lucy.”

I believe that it is true. We need not mourn over what we lose here in the shadow lands. All that is stunning and marvelous and true and real and loved in this world will be healed and restored and renewed and made to be all that it was intended to be from the beginning. All that is precious to us in this life is being kept safe for us in the “real” life that we will someday enter into, if we trust Jesus to take us there.

Then we will say, like the noble Unicorn in Narnia, “I have come home at last! This is my real country! I belong here. This is the land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew it till now.”

We will hear Aslan (Jesus) say, “The term is over: the holidays have begun!”

And it will be a holiday full of sights, sounds, aromas, and tastes that are as familiar as being home for Christmas, cozy and surrounded by family. Yet they will be brighter, fuller, more majestic, and more magnificent than anything we had ever imagined. After millions and millions of years, the wonder of it all will still be fresh and new. All mourning will be long forgotten and our joy will be everlasting!

Happy 100th Birthday, Grammy!

October 18, 2014October 18, 2014 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 5 Comments

La Vera Gisselman, Senior Picture

If my grandmother, La Vera Gisselman were still on this earth, she would be 100 years old today. She was an extraordinary woman, and I remember her with such fondness.

John and Amelia Seipp

She grew up in Wisconsin. Her small family lived in the second story above a store that they owned. She was full of love and admiration for her sainted mother, Amelia. She had much respect for her father, John, although she described him as being strict and favoring her younger brother over her. She told me her father was a very handsome man, always attracting the attention of the ladies. Yet he had a certain smell about him, being very opposed to the overuse of precious and expensive water. (La Vera was one of the most cleanly people I have ever known, almost to a fault. As a child, I would wait on her heels and beg her to play with me. Yet, she could not settle down to play a game or read a comic book until she felt that she had sufficiently cleaned my parents house. This included taking the mattress off of my bed and vacuuming underneath it!) Well, as a young woman, she described sneaking around when her father wasn’t home, filling up the wash tub with the rationed water and taking many forbidden baths.

When she was 16 years old, she met the love of her life, Harold Gisselman, at the ice skating rink. He was immediately taken with her and offered to walk her half of the way home.

She thought to herself, “What kind of a guy is this, that he would only walk me part of the way!”

He ended up walking her the entire way to her front door, and it sounded like they were inseparable after that! He was 20, so he had to wait for La Vera to grow up a bit before they could think about marriage. Yet, they waited more than 10 years before they tied the knot. In the frugal and patient way of their generation, they purchased a plot of land and had a house built before they got married. (I remember looking at pictures of the basement being dug and the piles and piles of rocks that were pulled out of the ground. Some of those rocks were used by Harold’s father to build a retaining wall in the back yard. Many changes occurred to the house and the yard over the years, but 921 Humboldt Ave. remained their beloved home for all of their 50 plus years of marriage. I have such wonderful memories of that little two bedroom, always clean and orderly, always meticulously maintained. I remember picking cucumbers in the perfect, weedless garden. I recall many neighbors and friends commenting on how the yard, bordered and overflowing with plants and flowers, was the prettiest one in Wausau. Whenever an unusually cool breeze blows through Pennsylvania, I am taken back to those cool Wisconsin summers. Whenever our radiators kick on that first cold day of fall, I am reminded of the smell of Grammy and Papa’s radiators that they had to turn on even in the summer!)

Finally, when Harold was 31 years old, he wed his beautiful La Vera on Nov 1, 1940.

Harold and La Vera Gisselman on their wedding day

They honeymooned in Chicago to pick out some furniture for their new home. When they returned to Wausau, they separated to continue living with their own parents until their home was completed. Harold was the youngest of his mother’s four boys, and Anna always told him that when he moved out, she would just die. The day he moved into his own home, which was just up the street from his mother’s home, she did pass away. Much sorrow and joy were woven together in those early years.

Anna and Erik Gisselman

Grammy told me that one day Harold was requested to report for duty. It was WWII, and he had received a summons, but there was a possibility that he could be sent right back home again. Grammy passed the long hours waiting for him to return home by scrubbing every inch of her home. Then she received a call. He would not be returning but would be entering the Army Air Corp! He went to an army base in St Louis, Missouri. They discovered that he was very good at typing, so the army, in their wisdom, decided that he could best serve his country by doing office work in the states. He was never sent over seas to fight, and I was always so thankful for that. La Vera was able to visit him in St. Louis, and she became pregnant with their first and only child, my mother! How very important that child was!

La Vera had to spend most of her pregnancy alone, although she did have the help and company of her mother. When she told her father-in-law, Erik, that he was going to be a grandfather, he would walk up the street to help her as well.

The time came for her to give birth. She entered the hospital and they put her to sleep. She doesn’t remember any of the birth! (She would become very uncomfortable when I would broach the topic of my natural childbirth experiences. She preferred to stay in the dark about the whole mysterious affair.) Harold received some leave and returned to see his baby girl!

After his time in the Army, Harold was hired as a bank teller. He worked his way up the banking ladder until he was eventually the bank president. Everyone called him Chick, and he was known and loved by everyone at the bank and most everyone in town. He was an honest and intelligent man, always ready with a joke and a smile. Years and years after his retirement and even years after his death in 1994, I still heard people around town talk about him with respect and admiration.

La Vera got a job as a kindergarten teacher’s assistant at Franklin Elementary. Then she was the secretary at Horace Mann Junior High School and worked there for many years. She was wonderful with children. She gave me a box full of years and years worth of crafty invitations she helped to make, promoting some sort of school event. She would often be a part of the school’s variety show in which she and Harold (along with many others) would deck themselves out in various costumes and perform skits.

Once they both retired, they would spend their winters in Florida and Arizona and their summers gardening and visiting their two beloved grandchildren (myself and my brother Jason) in Pennsylvania. La Vera despised the heat and humidity of PA. She would end up playing games with us in our cool basement to find relief. We would also go to visit them in Wisconsin for 2-4 weeks in the summer. Oh the fun we had playing at Marathon Park, hiking on Rib Mountain or the Eau Claire Dells, and visiting the cottage up north. We would swim in the frigid water until our quivering lips turned purple. Once we all took a trip to Yellowstone National Park. It was one of the best times of my childhood!

Harold and La Vera celebrating their 50th anniversary

My Papa passed away the night that I graduated from High School. La Vera was devastated and heart-broken. He had prepared her for his death, and she knew how to take care of herself. She was strong and self-determined. One of her most memorable character traits was that she ALWAYS knew the right thing to do in EVERY situation, and she NEVER hesitated to speak her mind. She could be taken as rather prideful and bossy at times, yet to me, that was just Grammy.

Several years passed and Grammy moved herself into a retirement community, selling her beloved home and going through all of her belongings. Years after that she moved herself into a new retirement community, because it had a balcony off the living room that she liked better. She loved that place and never wanted to leave. She kept herself busy with cribbage games and a string of adoring boyfriends, always much younger that she was. She lived independently up until two months before her death at age 96. She was a marvel and a wonder to all who met her! Her secrets to long life and vitality? Exercise, fresh air, gardening, and a table-spoon of vinegar and black strap molasses everyday. Her father, who died in his own home at age 96, swore by his vinegar and honey, and she carried on that tradition with a twist.

One point that Grammy was rather adamant about over the years was that I should not be a “baby making machine”, as she put it. She was overjoyed with the first few children we had. Then her excitement waned with the next few. Somewhere around the 6^th child, she acted annoyed when I announced a new pregnancy. Pretty soon I was very hesitant to even tell her that I was pregnant again, almost wishing that I could assure her that we would absolutely have no more children and gain back her approval. Her approval was always something that I highly coveted. Woe to the person who had lost it! Yet I knew that God had more precious babies for me, whether Grammy liked it or not!

My Grammy, LaVera Gisselman

In her final years, La Vera appeared to become less controlling and more accepting of others. I had the privilege of spending the last week of her life by her side. She had a stroke and was no longer capable of making decisions on her own. Chris and I traveled to Wisconsin and moved her into a memory care facility. She was the most talkative, most opinionated, and spunkiest resident in the entire place. She could hold the most lucid conversations, and a few times Chris and I thought we were making a horrible mistake by taking away her freedom, her apartment, and her car. Yet the next moment she would think that Chris was a nurse and that another resident, Leonard, was actually her boyfriend, Harry. She had the most hilarious conversations with Leonard, still believing that he was Harry, even after he refuted that fact in many ways. Yet Leonard was smiling the whole time as though he didn’t mind the thought of being her boyfriend.

She passed peacefully in her sleep on February 4, 2011. I was hard to say goodbye, but I was thankful that she didn’t have to live very long with dementia.

Later, in her belongings I found at least four typed note cards listing the names and birth dates of all her great-grandchildren (including Jason’s two children), as though she was afraid that she would forget one of them. I also found a precious little bundle wrapped in white tissue paper. It was a group of seven silver angels, one for each one of my children that I had at that time. Each one was inscribed with the child’s name and inset with their birthstone. Each great-grandchild was precious to her…I could see that clearly. Now that she is on the other side of eternity, I know they are even more precious in her eyes. I know that she is cheering me on as I am expecting our ninth little one in April. She can now see into the fathomless depths of time; generation after generation, thousands of years upon thousands of years. Every good thing my children accomplish during their lifetimes is part of HER legacy! Their imprint on history is also HER imprint on history! And their love of humanity and their love for God add to HER eternal bliss.

I love you Grammy! I can hardly wait to see you again!

You were created for Childbirth!

October 9, 2014October 10, 2014 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 2 Comments

My husband and I wrote this to help other couples looking forward to the big day – the day when their new baby will be born! Our desire is that everyone can have the joyful, peaceful, amazing experience that God has for them on this wondrous day!

You were created for Childbirth!

Giving birth to eternal children of destiny is God’s gift and a sign of his great honor and favor toward you! The labor experience is a privilege, NOT a curse! Here are some tips to help make your labor experience a little (or a lot) easier.

Pain is a curse spoken over Eve in Gen. All curses were broken at the cross. Break the curse of multiplied pain in Jesus name and don’t let anyone talk you back into it! Pain in labor is increased because of fear. Our body’s normal response to pain is to release adrenaline to prepare our bodies for the “fight or flight” response. Adrenaline stops the production of oxytocin and slows labor down. We have to practice going against our normal instincts to resist pain and learn to relax in the pain. With every contraction, find a comfortable position and relax every muscle of your body. Don’t try to move or talk. The more relaxed and at peace you are, the less pain you will feel. Practice this before you are actually in labor. If you want to read more, get the book, Childbirth without Fear: The Principles and Practice of Natural Childbirth.

HUSBANDS AND WIVES;

Pray and seek God about any issues He may want to address before you have a baby. The closer you are to God, the more peace and forgiveness you have flowing through your life, the easier labor will be!
Ask God for specific scriptures and promises for your labor and new baby. Speak these out all the time!
Ask God to give you His heart on any issues you might encounter such as an epidural, inducing labor, c-sections, and other interventions. In the intensity of labor is not the time to develop a philosophy on these subjects. God is the authority on labor, not your doctor.
Speak to the mommy’s and baby’s bodies and prophecy before and during labor that they will quickly and easily and joyfully go through all of the stages of labor. “Uterus; you will contract perfectly without multiplied pain!” “Cervix; you will dilate perfectly and quickly.” “Baby; you will descend into the birth canal at just the right time and turn in just the right way to be born quickly and easily.”
Speak to the mom’s and baby’s spirits about the labor. “Mom, you are able to give birth in peace and joy. You are in God’s hands. You are His beloved.” “Baby we love you. God gave you to us as a precious gift. Come out and see us at just the right time. We are so excited to see you!

HUSBANDS

Pray, Pray, Pray!
You are the authority over you wife, not your doctor or midwife. Ask God about any options that are offered. Don’t do anything you don’t feel at peace about.
Sometimes you have to make decisions for your wife during labor. She may not know what to do. Don’t be afraid to direct the labor time.
Encourage, Encourage, Encourage. Use your words to help her, not distract her.

“You’re doing great!” “Relax your muscles and breathe.” “It will be over soon!” Use a peaceful tone.

WIVES

During your labor it is your job to RELAX, RELAX, RELAX! Trust God and trust your husband. Let them take care of everything and relax! Enjoy the time between contractions. Walk around, squat, pelvic tilt. During contractions relax every muscle and rest! A warm shower or bath does wonders!
During your pregnancy, exercise often (walking, pregnancy Pilates, squatting, kegels) and eat as healthy as you can. Eat 60-100 grams of protein a day. Here is a link for a diet for pregnant and nursing mothers.
Even if things don’t go as you had hoped, God has got you in his hands and He is never letting go! He is in control!
Don’t worry! This birth thing was God’s idea and it really does work!

Wisdom from other moms

“I had two supernatural births without pain. The difference between my first two and my second two was I had an encounter with the Father’s love to where I was able to completely surrender and trust in His love and protection for me. I also read Supernatural Childbirth by Jackie Mize and that really encouraged me. The first two births I prayed in the spirit and the third and fourth Jason laid hands on my belly and prayed in the spirit during each contraction so I was free to completely surrender to it and rest and trust while he did all the work. I also labored in a Jacuzzi during transition and took honey for energy.” Cari Cash, mother of four

“A wonderful labor experience begins and ends without fear. Figure out what it is you are afraid of and get the answers you need before labor. Fear creates pain and makes what should be a wonderful experience terrifying.” Katie Horst, mother of four

If I could only give one piece of advice to a woman going into labor I would say “The only thing you can expect is that it is not going to be as you expected.”

So in the middle of the labor or delivery when it seems you are being thrown off course by some unexpected event. Ask yourself…”Is this what I expected?”

No… so be encouraged …this means you are right on track.

You can then continue in strength and peace.

As Bill Johnson says – You only have authority over a storm when you have peace.

Anne Stock, former homebirth attendant and mother of two