Emari-Melina Trinity Goodman-2 Going on 43

Yesterday was Marzipan's third birthday. All year long she has been maintaining that she was 42 years old and would hold up only 1 finger to prove it. Somehow she convinced you and you moved on with the conversation. Yes, they are conversations and sometimes you feel like she's just that old too.

In my mommy archives I always pull up the memories of the day of the prospective child's birth on the anniversary of it. My perspective is slightly different than everyone else's since obviously I had a starring role in the forthcoming project. Emari's birth was pretty interesting considering she was induced two weeks early and still weighed over 9 lbs. She then proceeded to get her head out, but being endowed with her daddy's wide shoulders decided to hang out in the birth canal for a little longer. One extremely scary obstetrical procedure later and she was out, both of us bearing the battle scars but an adventure we both shared.

On deciding her name Josh and I were both a little stumped because we really thought she was gonna be "the boy." When she presented herself in the ultrasound as another addition to our girl collection, I must admit, I cried the whole way home. All of the sudden, I was in the ranks of those women of old who just couldn't produce a male heir. Stupid, I know, and so very, very shallow, but man I was sad. Not an other girl...but we decided to stop the flow of our alphabetical naming of the Goodman offspring and shake things up a bit. We also had run out of family members who have passed on to name our children after, so this time we pulled from the living to immortalize.

She's named after her Papa Emory. It means "courageous leader." Melina means honey. God told us that if He had his way her middle name would be honey because she was going to be as sweet as honey, so we went Spanish on that one. Trinity was a throw back to a name we wanted to give to Taylor her older sister but the grandparents talked us out of it.

Turns out that in my pre-delivery praying I asked the Lord that if it was at all possible for Him to be present in the delivery room in all three of His forms, I would really appreciate the extra support. Rewind to the obstetrical procedure I mentioned earlier. That included mommy having her knees rammed all the way above her shoulders by daddy on one leg and a nurse on the other, then second helpful nurse pushes down on baby belly from above, all while mommy pushes as hard as she can and Dr. Wonderful works before mentioned stuck shoulders of baby Emari to an unstuck position. The Trinity was just what I needed for that delivery, I just couldn't do it on my own. Death loomed in our delivery room, but God brought us both through. Emari has been the exclamation point for our female assortment and I wouldn't trade her for any old boy at all.


Boys and Flowers

If you would have asked me years ago what gender of child I wanted I would have told you...boys, boys, boys. I babysat for a family that had four boys and I absolutely loved it. Now four girls into this thing I wouldn't trade them for anything. Their unique approaches to femininity teach me new things almost daily. However, I still love me some manchild and am sooooo glad that God finally gave me another to finish off my set. See, I know a lot about being a girl but boydom was a mysterious realm. I married a very masculine and yet sensitive man and I revel in the contradictions that those two characteristics display in our society. My man is a hopeless romantic and its amazing.

The cool thing is that somehow he's passed it on to our oldest. Yes ladies, I lost my next best valentine yesterday. There have been other women for him in the past and this is not where I place his hand into another's and quietly walk away. But, it is a milestone for us. He is beginning to look at the wooing of a woman's heart through the eyes of a man, not a boy. Part of me exults in the reality that he's been raised up to honor and adore the feminine heart, but the other part wants to seek out a quiet place and cry my eyes out, "Oh God, protect his fragile heart, don't let it be crushed to pieces by an uncaring girl." God answers me, "I think I've got this one covered, mama."



So I've been doing some thinking lately. After finding some really cool blogs that I am now following, my heart has once more been stirred. Some statements were made on these aforementioned blogs about how the church knows how to stand against something, but not how to stand for something. When you stand against something you are like a fortress. Steadfast and formidable but not taking any ground. Just standing still doesn't make you victorious, but it does make you a target. When you stand for something you move ahead, make progress. Action is involved, not just fighting off advances of the enemy but an invasion of the enemy on his turf.

Personally, I've always had a hard time finding what it is that I can stand for. I mean, I love God and seek to do His will always, but what do I stand for? What is my "Thing?" I can't seem to find it. I homeschool some of my kids, but I also have some in Christian school and have even *gasp* sent them to public school. I have loads of kids, but I don't have everything organized and under control. I'm married to a pastor, but I don't fit the stereotype. I think I've worked really hard not to fit into a category and now I'm out here uncategorized and feeling lost and alone. I've done well to figure out what I don't want to be, now we need to move on to who I do want to be and I'm getting too old for this reinvention of myself. It's too late to say Who am I? I am who God made me. Now if I could just figure out who that is...


I Was Made For This...

So that's what I keep telling myself. Over and over. Especially when I believe it the least. I'm a California girl, you guys. God chose in His Infinite Wisdom to see fit to place me in a warm climate from conception through the age of 18. At which time He then cruelly transplanted me to the South. Now, God doesn't need any defense for His actions but He did move me to Fayetteville, NC which isn't quite the Deep South. Here we have more of a strange mix of military retirees from all over the globe mixed with the descendants of the original settlers and Confederate devotees, so its a little different.

However, I was made for warmth and breezes and dry heat. I just know I was. Then you throw in the freakish blizzard like weather we have just often enough each year to shut us down for a few days. I detest it. But just recently I was compelled through some inner stirrings of the Holy Spirit to seek out my heritage and guess what? My family actually comes from right here in the great state of North Carolina! So if you really think about it California was kind of like our captivity and now I am the generation of those returned to our Promised Land. God is so cool like that, but I really wish I could get the anointing of those from my lineage who thrived here. I guess my kids will be closer to understanding that since they only know it here. Maybe they can teach me to be more adaptable.
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