Christmas Letter 2016

Dear family and friends, 

We wanted to take the opportunity of this Christmas card season to write about what has been happening with the Haists in St. Louis this year! 

We should start with the star of the family. Eden is 20 months old! She is so much fun. The perfect mix of sweet and sassy, and she’s gaining more and more independence by the minute. She loves to dance, sing, read books, go (pretend) grocery shopping, and do puzzles, but she would much prefer to be outside than inside. She can also tell you the sounds a cow, cat, dog, owl, sheep, and fish make. Her vocabulary has taken off and it’s so much fun to watch (and hear). She loves people and is such a joy to be around. While I’m at work, Eden hangs out with her dad on Mondays (“daddy-daughter-date-day”), her buddy Eli and our dear friend Cara on Tuesdays, and the rest of the week she comes to on-sight childcare at my school. She loves her friends and sweet, sweet teacher in childcare! The Lord truly has given us the sweetest gift in calling me and Sam to be her parents and we’re grateful for the village he’s given us to help raise her. 

Sam continues to serve as the assistant pastor at South City Church (the church we’ve been a part of since moving to St. Louis). He enjoys working alongside our lead pastor Mike Higgins —along with the rest of the staff—and serves the church in a number of capacities. He preaches about once per month and leads the liturgy most other Sundays. He also coordinates several ministries and is currently co-teaching a Sunday School class on prayer. The meetings seem endless to me, but he is energized by them and genuinely enjoys spending time with people. It’s rare for me to hear Sam complain about his job. He is a selfless servant and I’m always in awe at the ways he continues to serve us and the church. He also surprises me with how wise he is :) In his “free time” he enjoys listening to music, collecting records, reading, reading, and reading some more. Oh, and of course drinking coffee. 

As for me, I continue to teach M-F until 1:30pm at South City Community School. I have an energetic, lively class of 12 this year. They’re keeping me on my toes, but I really do enjoy them :) In a season of much transition for our family, I’ve struggled with working and not being home with Eden, but the Lord keeps reminding me over and over again that he has gifted me with the ability to teach and serve his littlest people—and that’s a privilege. I’m also so grateful for my school, which has been a huge gift to our family.

30 weeks with baby girl #2!

Speaking of transition, in just 10 short weeks, we will be welcoming baby girl #2 into our family! This pregnancy has been so different from Eden’s. I’ve been 100% more relaxed, which makes the biggest difference! Every baby movement still gives me flutters, and I’ve generally felt great (minus her nuzzling into my sciatic nerve). That said, pregnancy physically feels much different when you're also keeping up with a toddler—it seems like a general achy feeling never goes away. My emotions have been all over the place! We long to know this little girl (whose name we are keeping surprise—we think you’ll like it), but also live in the tension of grieving that this season as a family of three is coming to an end. We know in our hearts that this little girl will bring immense joy but the head stuff gets the best of me most days and I just want to freeze time with the miraculous baby movements and Eden in this fun age! Baby girl is expected to make her debut on or around February 23rd.

We also started the house hunt this past spring, but after exploring a number of options, we decided that, financially, now is not the wisest time for us to buy. So, we moved to a new

apartment! We’re now two blocks from the church and only a short drive from my school. Same great landlord and we love our new place: we’ve got a little more room and it’s the neighborhood we want to live in. It’s truly a gift to do the vast majority of life, ministry, and work within a two mile radius. Eden and Ethel particularly enjoy the much bigger back yard to play in.

Eden doing Ethel's hair.

Oh Ethel. Our first baby that never gets enough attention. She continues to be the most patient dog we’ve ever seen, and she and Eden have the sweetest bond. Watching them together reminds me that Ethel is indeed an important part of our family and we’re so glad she's our pup.

During this Advent season, I’ve been reflecting a lot on “waiting”—what it means, what it looks like, what it feels like, even what it smells like. Sometimes it’s little things, like waiting for coffee to brew, but other times it’s big things like waiting for the Lord to answer your plea for a child—or even bigger like waiting for Christ’s return. I’ve been thinking about how often we wait, and at least for me, how poorly we wait. In a world of Netflix and Amazon Prime, we’re pretty addicted to instant gratification.

But as I read the Bible, I’m constantly amazed at how long the people of God waited for him to come through. At times content, often anxious, laced with both sadness and hope. But God’s promises are true, and he always does what he says.

So in preparing our hearts for Christmas, we wait. Just as the people of Israel waited for the promised Messiah, we wait for his glorious return. We’re going on 2,000 years, but the promise remains the same: he will come like a thief in the night and we’re called to wait with joyful anticipation. He’s not finished with us here, so we ought to wait with eyes open, hands ready, and hearts content in the truth of his promises.

One of my favorite passages this time of year is when the angels show up to tell the shepherds that the Savior is here. These men are the outcasts of their society, yet they’re the first to know that the Lord has fulfilled his promise. I get weepy just thinking about it. Can you imagine the surprise, the confusion, the joy? Their waiting is over! The King has come.

Luke 2:8-20
In the same region there were some shepherds staying out in the fields and keeping watch over their flock by night. And an angel of the Lord suddenly stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them; and they were terribly frightened. But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of great joy which will be for all the people; for today in the city of David there has been born for you a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. "This will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger." And suddenly there appeared with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, "Glory to God in the highest, And on earth peace among men with whom He is pleased." When the angels had gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds began saying to one another, "Let us go straight to Bethlehem then, and see this thing that has happened which the Lord has made known to us." So they came in a hurry and found their way to Mary and Joseph, and the baby as He lay in the manger. When they had seen this, they made known the statement which had been told them about this Child. And all who heard it wondered at the things which were told them by the shepherds. But Mary treasured all these things, pondering them in her heart. The shepherds went back, glorifying and praising God for all that they had heard and seen, just as had been told them. 

Anyway, these are my jumbled thoughts for the season. Personally, I’m so grateful that the Lord meets us in different seasons of our life and marriage and constantly says, "I see you, I have not forgotten you." This season, he’s reminding me that he sees us as we wait for a new season to begin as a family of four. And, in this, he’s giving me tangible reminders of his promise—and an idea of what it looks like to wait with joyful anticipation (even as we wrestle with our fears and our doubts). He’s a good God, friends. Rest in his promise this Christmas: the King came down as a beautiful baby boy, and will soon come again to restore the overwhelming brokenness in our hearts and in our world. 
 

Joy to the world, the Lord is come. 

With much love,

Katelyn, Sam, Eden, baby girl #2, and Ethel 

Merry Christmas from our family to yours!

ONE.

Dear family and friends,

Just like that, we have a ONE year old and there are so many emotions I can’t even communicate them all. This past year has been simultaneously the most draining and joy-filled time of my life. This little person came into the world, and the world will never be the same again. Many of you have asked to hear my birth story, which I would gladly share with you. Sparing many of the details of course, I’ll share a brief part of Eden’s coming-into-the-world day.

On Wednesday, April 7th, I woke up with bleeding. My doctor asked me to come in immediately. My heart still skips a beat as I type that, because although completely normal at the start of birth, bleeding meant urgency. Something was wrong to me. We got in to the hospital and everything checked out fine — I was actually contracting and didn’t even realize it. They sent me home and said to keep going about life as usual (ha!!!!!).

I got home at 6am, and went ahead with my normal day. I went into school and met with my substitute. We went through the plans for the last 6-weeks of the school year. I continued with the day, and upon arriving home in the afternoon, something changed. I started to contract more often but still not in any discernible rhythm. Sam got home around 5pm, we had dinner, watched a few episodes of New Girl and settled in for the night. Not for long!

Around 10pm, the contractions started to get more frequent. I’d lay down for 30min, and then be up walking the hall of our apartment and holding on to the furniture until the contraction passed. Then I’d lay back down again, and repeat (about every half hour throughout the night). I woke up on Thursday morning and decided I was a little too uncomfortable to go into school that day. So I went ahead and called off and asked my substitute to start my leave. Sam and I decided to go to breakfast at our favorite STL place, Southwest Diner.

When we were seated, Sam reminded me I should probably eat something more bland, which is hard to do at an extreme flavor blasting breakfast joint. I went with the fried egg sandwich. The only problem: I couldn’t even get my order out because I was contracting so much! So funny, and humbling, to lose breath mid-sentence and “need a minute.” We came home and Sam decided it was probably a good idea for him to work from home that day. I laid on the couch and continued with the pattern of contractions every 30min. We took some long walks that day! Around 5pm, I realized the contractions were getting a little more intense but with no real rhythm yet (about 15min apart but then would jump to 45min). I called our doula, Kelley, and she said she would head our way.

I was so glad she came when she did. The contractions were inconsistent and at times discouraging - the’d go from 5min apart to 25min apart. Kelley encouraged us to wait until the sun went down and that the storm that was brewing could work in our favor too. Sure enough, the sun went down and things picked up. Kelley was a saint. She helped Sam with some massaging techniques on my back, and also helped me to rest between contractions. I even laid in bed, half napping, watching some New Girl. Around 10pm I heard Kelley say to Sam, “did you see that change in her? Time to go to the hospital. Grab some towels for the car just in case.” The most vivid memory of that moment is Sam’s eyes bugging out of his head.

I cried all the way to the hospital {like the really ugly crying with snot and tears and more snot}. Fear. Anxiety. Pain. Excitement. So many emotions. We got there and it’s like no one was taking me seriously. “Can you tell me your address?” ISN’T THIS WHY I PRE-REGISTERED? The receptionist finally realized I was legit in labor when she saw me losing breath mid-sentence. After that, she took me back and, sure enough, 6cm dilated. All of a sudden she picked up the pace to get us a room :)  We got into the room, got everything hooked up, checked vitals, etc. I labored walking for a while, in bed, on the ball. Kelley walked us through everything — seriously, having a doula was amazing. She was amazing. And it helped Sam to relax and really focus on me, not just the urgency to “get me out of pain.” Around 2am I got into the shower and labored there until I was ready to push, around 5am. The shower was the best. It’s amazing that my body just got into a rhythm and knew exactly what to do. It’s hard to explain how empowering the whole experience was. Even though it was painful, it felt productive. Once it was time to push, I talked to my doctor on the phone. She said she would be there soon and told me she was proud of me — good words to hear. Unfortunately, the next 3hrs were the part of labor that are still traumatizing in my mind. I pushed for over 3hrs. I remember looking at my doula, Sam, and the doctor crying and asking why nothing was happening. It was discouraging, excruciating, and so so long. I wanted all the drugs at this point :) Come to find out, this little lady was sunny side up, hence all the back labor. Finally, at 8:01am, our girl entered the world. The doctor put her on me immediately and I was so afraid I was going to drop her. I was shaking and crying and shaking and crying. I looked at Sam, and he was in the same emotional state as me. He just kept telling me how proud he was. The hardest work I’ve (we’ve - all three of us) have ever done.
The moment the doctor put Eden on me, I remember thinking I did nothing to deserve the gift of her life. She was a living, breathing, human on the outside of me and I couldn’t wrap my head around it. The Lord found us fit to be her parents, and here we are. One year later.

Her name, Eden Grace. So fitting for our girl. We settled on the name Eden as we thought about God’s story of creation. The garden of Eden, before Adam sinned, was a picture of the way things were intended to be. During the dark days of infertility and our miscarriage, we kept longing for the biblical Eden. The Lord’s gift of her life is a reminder to us of the way things were intended to be. Her life brought joy in the morning. Light after living in darkness. I often pray that her name is a reminder to her that though we can’t protect her from the brokenness of the world, Jesus reigns. He is working to further His Kingdom here on earth until he makes all things new.

Her middle name, Grace. I can’t even. This year if I’ve learned one thing, it’s that Jesus’ grace is what sustains. His mercies are new every morning and BOY do I look forward to His new mercies. I can’t really explain the mom guilt piece of this past year and the conflict of my heart in learning to trust my instincts. God named ME her mama. Why can’t I trust that he has also enabled me to care for her how she needs to be cared for? I’ve needed so much of His sustaining grace in the moments of feeling like I’ve failed, in the moments of sleep-deprivation that leave you a CRAZY person, and the ugliness (and loneliness) that comes from pretending I’m in control. Oh Eden, my prayer for you is that you’ll never know a day without the saving grace of Jesus. 

Eden Grace : born April 9th, 2015 at 8:01am. Weighing 8lbs, 1oz and measuring 20in long. You entered the world quietly, but quickly found your voice. A true gift to us, joy that came in the morning. And by grace and grace alone have we fumbled our way through your first year of life. Your dad and I learning {and still learning} to love each other differently, more deeply, but differently. Getting to know you as a treasured image bearer of God. Your personhood is so precious. It’s amazing to us that while we rest in Jesus, you rest in us as a safe haven. We are your people here on earth. But never forgot, sweet one, that Jesus is your keeper. You are a beloved daughter of the King, and that is the greatest gift of all.

Family and friends, thank you for being our village. For carrying us through with ceaseless prayers, phone calls, emails, babysitting, and so much more. This life we live is not intended to be lived alone, and we are so abundantly grateful for each and every one of you. Give thanks with us, for this child we longed and prayed for is celebrating ONE year of life. She is so amazing.

With love, Katelyn

Moments.

Dear family and friends,

It’s been a while, which I’m sure is coming as a shock to you. I’ve had so many thoughts running through my head, but one that keeps coming to mind is the idea of “moments.” I’ve felt the past few months the weight of the fall so heavily. In the nearness of cancer as it takes the life of someone very dear to us, in the loss of babies, in the suffering of infertility for close friends, in the brokenness of marriages that seemed unbreakable, the nearness of injustice tearing at the hearts of people I love. The list goes on… I’ve felt heavy hearted. I often find myself weepy lately. I’m a burden carrier - so I’ve found myself back at Matthew 28, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” Balm for the soul. Give it to Jesus, give it to Jesus Katelyn.

This time last year, 33 weeks pregnant

The weight of those hurting around me, and my own aching heart, has tuned my heart to relishing in the moments, as corny as that may sound. The Lord has even shown me kindness that in the really hard moments, I can sit in them and even at times find rest. This month, these weeks, are especially hard. It’s been two years the first week of March that we lost our first precious baby to the arms of Jesus. Those moments are so vivid in my memory.

Our first positive pregnancy test after such a trying season of infertility - oh the joy that I will never forget. The screaming. The crying. The laughing. The praises to Jesus that he had answered our cry for a baby! And then the days and weeks to follow that were filled with the loneliest moments of my life. The strain that grieving puts on your marriage. The strange desire to create distance from those trying to enter in because it’s so much easier than being vulnerable. The anger. Oh the anger. The deep sadness. And the disheartening reminder of loss, of literal emptiness, in so many weeks of bleeding. Yet, in those weeks as I remember the moments two years later, I remember a village like I’ve never known. Meals after meals. Phone calls. Visits. People surrounding us as the hands and feet of Jesus. The most tangible reminder in those weeks and months to follow that the Lord had not forsaken us. Even better, He was so close. I long with so much joyful anticipation for the day when we will hold this sweet baby in our arms. I miss him or her so often.

our first ever positive pregnancy test

And now I sit in a new season of moments. Mama moments with our earthly bundle of love. Learning with so much grace what this looks like and how to rest in the imperfections of life. As I carry a weary heart for the brokenness in the world, as I’m constantly reminded in the everyday moments of being Eden’s mama, there are great gifts in the midst of weariness. The moments of giggling, of pirate-leg crawling (it’s seriously hilarious), of sassiness and screeching. In the moments of not-napping (which usually make me want to pull out all my hair), I’ve been able to thank God that there is a baby in my arms that is not napping. Wouldn’t trade those hard moments for anything. Don’t hear me saying I’m some saint—the frustration and the anger is all there in the hard moments. I’m just sharing that lately, the Lord is reminding me to be still in these moments.
To treasure them. To seek His faithfulness, His kindness, His good gifts, before I seek the selfish desires of my own heart. For even Eden, as a tiny image-bearer, bears the weight of sin. God extends his grace freely to me, and so I’m trying by his sweet new mercies, to extend it to Eden. Soaking in the moments of waking up next to the love of my life every morning, and going to bed with him every night. Treasuring the moments of nursing and rocking Eden knowing these moments are fleeting. Relishing in the pure crazy of my days as a teacher, aware that the Lord has equipped me and called me to love on these little people. Sitting in the moments of fear and anxiety, knowing that God is able. And trying to rest. Oh does this weary heart need to rest. Trying to rest in God’s promise to take my burdens if I come to Him.

You know that saying, “live in the moment?” The one that is plastered on every motivational poster with a beautiful sunset behind it? Well, that’s how I feel right now. The Lord is teaching me to sit in the moments.

To find beauty in the moments.

To cry and grieve and relive and cherish with my whole being, the moments.

For he has ordained them.

These moments are His. 

With love,
Katelyn 

6 months.

Dear family and friends,

I’ve sat down to write this blog post at least a dozen times. There is too much to say and my thoughts are so jumbled! First of all, there is this crazy thing that happens when you have a baby, time goes into super sonic fast zone. How has it already been six months {okay, almost seven} since Eden was born? It has simultaneously been the longest and shortest six months of our lives.

On April 9th, at 8:01 in the morning, our 8lb 1oz precious God-given gift, Eden Grace entered the world. I was abundantly grateful that I was able to give birth unmedicated with Sam and our doula, Kelley, at my side. Those first weeks home are now a blur. I remember I cried non-stop. We relied so heavily on people to care for us. I cried more. We changed a lot of diapers. I nursed. I prayed. I nursed some more. And then I nursed more. I was in a constant state of feeling like a failure for having no idea what I was doing, but in the same breath feeling like I had never done or been something so amazing as being Eden’s mama. I was, and still am, so proud that the Lord lets me be her mom.

Oh, speaking of Jesus. He shows up in the mightiest of ways when we are the weakest. And boy does a baby amplify your weaknesses. Time and time again, Jesus has shown up to remind me that He is Eden’s keeper. In the loneliness of the night when there are big beautiful eyes staring deep into my soul, and my whole body is cringing. In my releasing of control into the hands of others who care for Eden while I am at work. In the first illness that left us weary. In the accidental head bonk or dog scratch. The Lord is her protector.

While he has lent her to us here on earth, ultimately her days are His. She belongs in his mighty hands. You would think that would bring great relief. But we live in a fallen world, and my cynical heart struggles to believe. So every millisecond of every day that I am consumed with worry is just so wasteful. I’m teaching myself to breathe and lay it at the Lord’s feet. That is not to say that we should not be wise. We should be going before the Lord daily and asking for the perseverance and wisdom to answer this calling as parents. As Eden’s parents, we should go to bat for her because the Lord has entrusted her in our care. But as Sam often gently reminds me, “don’t try to be what only God can be for Eden.” Ugh. So much truth. Being a mama is hard. The hardest work I’ve ever done.

But oh the JOY. I’ve realized that I struggle with experiencing joy in general. I am fearful in joy-filled seasons that it will be taken from me, so I choose to be numb to it (yes counselor friends, I realize this is unhealthy!). Our first year of marriage I was so filled with fear that Sam was going to die in a car accident that that “honeymoon year” was filled with tears and heartache and irrational fear. My pregnancy, the time of my life that I felt the most lovely, was filled with fear and lack of joy because I was terrified I would loose my baby. I carry the burdens of others so heavily at times that that too can out weigh my joy because I am so wrapped in the unfairness of my joy and their pain. But then this little human entered our world and there are times that I look at her and am so consumed with joy it’s hard for me to explain. My whole body swells with jubilation. It’s a deep, deep, hard-to-wrap-my-head-around, love. The Lord has been so kind to me. He’s teaching me that I should indeed, experience joy with my whole being. And Eden, you guys, she radiates joy.

I know very little about motherhood, other than you need Jesus (and Sam, but he’s taken). But to the women - this is one thing I am sure of - whether you have your own biological children, the children in your church family, the children you babysit, the children you are longing for, the children you are grieving for, the children who you wait to hold in Heaven, the children you gently lead back to their parents at a park, the children you don’t shame when they are throwing a tantrum in the store, the children you think or pray for around the world - you are a mama. You are important. You are doing the hard work of furthering God’s Kingdom by loving on the Lord’s little persons. For you, mamas, I am so thankful.

Love,
Katelyn

P.S. In other news, Ethel became a dog the day we brought Eden home from the hospital. Poor thing. Although she is neglected now, she's still a good pup. She get the biggest smiles from Eden. We see a great friendship (love/hate of course) in their future.

"What mom?" 

"I just want to pull this tiny hair right here." 

"Oh man! She caught me!" 

Best friends.

34 weeks.

our sweet girl's profile at 33 weeks

Dear friends and family,

Talk about a blogging hiatus. Honestly, I haven’t known what to say. Some of you have asked me to share about this pregnancy, and that has caused me to sit down and cry many, many tears without being able to type any words. I hope this blog can become a way for Sam and I to share the “fun” in our lives again with all of you, but I do have to thank you for allowing it to be a sounding board for my emotions the past year :) It’s also been such an encouragement to hear from you all, and to allow you to walk in this beautiful mess with us. So, pregnancy.

Physically, I’ve never felt better. I received two shots in my bum once a week for the first 28 weeks and, while painful, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat. As someone that has always struggled with self-image I can honestly say that pregnancy has made me feel beautiful, maybe for the first time in my life. I got my first stretch marks a few weeks ago and although they aren’t a sight for sore eyes, I secretly love them, and have  cried many thankful tears over them. Stretch marks are a forever sign on my body that I can carry a child. There are few things more beautiful to me. And oh to feel this girl move. There really are no words. Just constant praises to the Lord. 

Emotionally, I’m an absolute disaster. I’ve allowed the devil to creep in time and time again over the past 34 weeks and steal my joy. I go through waves of feeling like everything will be okay, to feeling like everything is going to go terribly wrong. My poor Sam. He is so calm. I know he sees me and feels helpless. God’s kindness is written all over the past 34 weeks. One of the greatest gifts has been my class this year. Oh how I wish everyone could experience pregnancy through the eyes of 10 precious first graders. The joy every morning when they say “good morning Ms. Katelyn AND little baby!,” the excitement when they put their small hands on my belly and feel her move, the sweetness and innocence in every question they ask with their curious minds. The Lord knew I needed this class this year even more than they’ve probably needed me. And my sweet Sam. What a guy. It has to take some deep love to put up with so much crying!

Spiritually, I’m a mess. I wake up every morning and thank God that I’ve had the privilege to carry this baby for another day. But then I doubt his goodness when I allow the fear to set in. I’ve struggled this whole pregnancy with joy. Could the Lord really want me to experience this much happiness? Am I allowed to let my heart invest and fall in love fully? It’s felt unsafe on some days and natural on others. Every. single. morning. I repent of my unbelief. I repent of the habit to Google something instead of trusting that the Lord has this in his hands and wants this child for us. All I know, is that I am so incredibly thankful for a gracious God. It reminds me to be more gracious with the kids in my class when I feel like I’m a broken record. I imagine God feels like a broken record reminding me of his faithfulness.

Then there’s a part of me that feels like I’ve never truly experienced the gospel like I have while pregnant. The love and delight I have in this little girl has to, on a much smaller scale, reflect the love and delight the Lord has had in me since before I was formed in the womb.

So pregnancy. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever experienced. It’s truly a miracle that, by the grace of God, I haven’t taken for granted for a single second. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever wrestled with spiritually or emotionally. And in the midst of so many unknowns there has only been one constant. The Lord has not forsaken me. He has allowed me to fail time and time again, and time and time again has called me back to himself as a beloved child.

This week we reflect on this time last year. Finding out we were pregnant and losing our first baby into the arms of Jesus. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think and wonder about that baby. He or she will always have a piece of our hearts. So pray for us this week, that we would feel the nearness of God in every move this baby makes and be reminded of his kindness to us. But also pray that we would also have space to mourn the loss of the baby we miss dearly. We are 6 weeks away from this little girl being in our arms. To God be the Glory, forever and ever.

With love,
Katelyn (& Sam)

Psalm 126

Dearest family and friends,

In church this morning we sang the song, Psalm 126 (by Bifrost Arts Music). It’s a song that holds a lot of emotion for me. The first time I sung it in church was in the midst of a lot uncertainty following our miscarriage and months of infertility. The months that followed that Sunday I listened to this song almost every morning. It was a way to start my day by saying, I would choose to see God’s kingdom here on earth. I would choose to love and honor children in the midst of much heartache. And I would choose to pray when it seemed impossible. Pray for God to give me eyes and hands to sow for the sake of His kingdom.

Our mouths they were filled, filled with laughter
Our tongues they were loosed, loosed with joy
Restore us, O Lord
Restore us, O Lord
Although we are weeping
Lord, help us keep sowing
The seeds of Your Kingdom
For the day You will reap them
Your sheaves we will carry
Lord, please do not tarry
All those who sow weeping
Will go out with songs of joy
The nations will say, “He has done great things!”
The nations will sing songs of joy
Restore us, O Lord
Restore us, O Lord

So then we sang it this morning in church. I thought that getting pregnant would take away the pain of infertility and our miscarriage, but being pregnant has not taken away that pain. Every facet of being pregnant is beautiful to me. Oh how I’ve longed for this belly bump — I think it’s the most amazing thing in the world. And oh how I’ve longed for Sam to talk to my belly and read to our baby, and contemplate the first song he should sing to the baby once it’s ears were developed. It’s truly a gift. A gift that has brought with it so many other anxieties and fears. My levels that I’m receiving shots for keep going up and down drastically and more medical intervention is needed at times, but the Lord is calling me to rest and give thanks for everyday I have the privilege to carry this baby. And oh do I do that with an overflowing cup.

So as we sang this song again this morning and I rubbed my growing belly thinking about how our story has changed — a flood of emotion came over me again. This time last year we were overwhelmed with testing and “why nots” and the complexity of getting pregnant for us. And this month, we mourned over not giving birth to our first baby (which would have been the first week of November), never meeting him or her and praised God for holding our son or daughter in His hands. And then in the moment this morning, I was overwhelmed with thankfulness. That through the weeping He heard us and has given us a beautiful gift of this child. Oh how God’s kindness has been written in our stories.

I need to come to a point of understanding that our infertility will always be painful. And we will always mourn not knowing our first baby. But oh how we can give abundant thanks unto the Lord that hears us in our weeping, and gives us the strength to sow for the sake of His Kingdom. And oh how my heart bursts with joy for the life inside of me. Oh how I’ve longed for this day. To sing Psalm 126 with a tongue loosed with joy -- as a song of great thanks and anticipation for Christ to return and make all things new.

Much love,
Katelyn (& Sam)

17 week bump! I'm currently 18wks 2days!

Rejoice with us!!!!!

Over the past 15 months I’ve begun to journal my prayers. I’ve found myself humbled by God’s kindness and at times filled with much hurt by {what feels like} unanswered prayers. I’ve felt lonely and afraid and fearful and empty. Time and time again as I go back through my prayer journal I see His words, His hand. For what I have learned is that we are never alone, even in our darkness moments. God sees us. He hears us. And there is no escaping, as hard as we try, a love like His. Here are several of the verses that have reappeared as I look through my journal. It amazed me as I compiled them that God has been very near, when I have felt very far.

Psalm 3:4 I cried to the Lord with my voice, and He heard me out of His holy hill.

Psalm 34:4 I sought the Lord, and He heard me, and delivered me from all my fears.

Psalm 50:15 And call upon Me in the day of trouble: I will deliver you, and you shall glorify Me.

Psalm 55:15 As for me, I will call upon God; and the Lord shall save me. Evening and morning, and at noon, will I pray, and cry aloud: and He shall hear my voice.

Psalm 66:20 Blessed be God, who has not turned away my prayer, nor His mercy from me.

Psalm 86:7 In the day of my trouble I will call upon You: for You will answer me.

Psalm 107:6 Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble, and He delivered them out of their distresses.

Psalm 69 I am exhausted for crying for help; my throat is parched. My eyes are swollen from weeping, waiting for my God to help me. Answer my prayers oh Lord, for your unfailing love is wonderful.

Isaiah 30:19 He will be very gracious to you at the voice of your cry; when He shall hear it, He will answer you.

Isaiah 65:24 And it shall come to pass, that before they call, I will answer; and while they are yet speaking, I will hear.

Mat 7:7,8 Ask and it shall be given you; seek and you shall find; knock and it shall be opened to you: For everyone that asks receives; and he that seeks finds; and to him that knocks it shall be opened.

Mat 21:22 And all things, whatsoever you shall ask in prayer, believing, you shall receive.

2Heb 11:6 But without faith it is impossible to please God: for he that comes to God must believe that He is, and that He is a rewarder of them that diligently seek Him.

1Jn 5:14,15 And this is the confidence that we have in Him, that, if we ask any thing according to His will, He hears us: And if we know that He hear us, whatsoever we ask, we know that we have the petitions that we desired of Him.


Friends and family,

We have coveted every single prayer for us as we have shared our story. Thank you for instilling hopefulness in our hearts when we felt fearful, thank you for encouraging us to seek first the Kingdom, thank you for crying with us and being angry with us, and allowing us room to grieve and process the infertility and our miscarriage. You have been the hands and feet of Christ to us.

So it is through many tears that I type that God has heard our cries and has graciously answered our prayers for a child! He didn’t have to give us this gift for us to know His goodness, but we are so, so glad He did. This pregnancy has not been perfect (in fact, one of the times I have most felt the effects of spiritual warfare), but everyday that I continue to carry this longed for baby, I give thanks to our great King. What a privilege! What complete joy here on earth.

So, rejoice with us! And please continue to pray for us. Specifically for shots that I am receiving to help sustain the pregnancy - we pray I can and will carry this baby full term and that he/she continues to develop well inside of me! We surrender this child to God, knowing that He is near. I’ve attached our baby’s ultrasound. Oh what glory here on earth to hear his/her heartbeat for the first time. Sam swears he/she looks like him :)

With much love and grateful hearts,
Katelyn & Sam 


P.S. I have so missed my time on Facebook. Communication has become very hard with dear friends, especially in Ukraine and Czech (!!) and I am ready to be back with the Facebook world. The hiatus I must say, was really good for my heart :)