May It Be Springtime

I have never felt such abundance and such deficeincy simultaneously.

I awake early to James fussing through the monitor. I lean over to see that my phone says 6:28 am. I wait. He is not crying, just fussing. I close my eyes and almost drift back off to sleep. “Ah!” he exclaims in his “I’m awake, come get me!” voice. I smile with my eyes still closed, imagining his little arms trying to wiggle out of his swaddle. “Ah!” he says, louder. Okay...sigh... I’m coming.

Sweet is the season of spring: the long and dreary winter helps us to appreciate its genial warmth, and its promise of summer enhances its present delights.

When I open the door to his room, he immediatly stops fussing and smiles. Oh, his smile. I am ruined.

If we do not hoist the sail when the breeze is favourable, we shall be blameworthy: times of refreshing ought not to pass over us unimproved.

This too shall pass. Not only the hard parts, but the sweetness of these early weeks with James. Soon he won’t want to be held so much, he won’t be so easily soothed by my picking him up and holding him to me. Soon, he’ll be moving around, finding his own little way in the world, and I will think of these days when he was so content just to be in my arms.

When Jesus Himself visits us in tenderness, and entreats us to arise, can we be so base as to refuse His request? He Himself has risen that He may draw us after Him: He now by His Holy Spirit has revived us, that we may, in newness of life, ascend into the heavenlies, and hold communion with Himself.

After he’s done eating, he just stares up at me with those bright blue eyes and we study each others faces. With sounds and smiles, we have a conversation. Sometimes I think James is the closest I will ever get to God. I’m convinced of it, actually.

Land That drinks in the rain often falling on it and produces a crop useful to those for whom it is farmed receives the blessing of God.
Hebrews 6:7

Oh James, I have never seen the hours of the night like I have with you. 2 am...4 am...6 am. I have never been a morning person, but sometimes I look forward to hearing that first exclamation out of your mouth when you see the sun coming through your window. Such exhaustion. Such abundance. Every day is a new gift, I’m more and more aware of that truth.

Let our wintry state suffice us for coldness and indifference; when the Lord creates a spring within, let our sap flow with vigour, and our branch blossom with high resolve. O Lord, if it be not spring time in my chilly heart, I pray Thee make it so, for I am heartily weary of living at a distance from Thee.

Excerpts are from Morning and Evening by Charles Spurgeon. From the evening of April 24th, the night James was born.

The Evolution of the Disclaimer (thoughts on songwriting)

I’ve found that there are many evolutions of a songwriter. This is especially true for co-writing. For example, there is the evolution of the disclaimer.

When one first starts co-writing they will often have ideas that will filter though the different rooms in their mind... and when almost to the entryway...almost ready to edge out of ones lips... the realization hits that this is in fact, a bad idea. It’s too cheesy, It’s been done.

Did I really just rhyme heart with start? Grace with place? Whoo, I’m glad I filtered that before they thought I was a bad writer. close call...

After awhile when one gets stuck in a certain writing session it will come to pass that some of those thoughts are let loose. The thought of not contributing any ideas at all becomes unbearable and there is no stopping the "bad" ones. However, this is where the disclaimer comes in. Before the horrible, no good, very bad, idea sees the light of day, you will hear things like:

“now this is probably a horrible idea but...”
“okay, I'm just gonna throw this out there...”
“I know this sounds cheesy, but what about...”

It’s inevitable. Find me a songwriter than has not used the disclaimer. Find me a human.

I have a friend that I recently saw for the first time in months. We were good friends growing up and now only see each other over the holidays if we’re lucky. She is almost opposite of me. She looks great in heels and earrings and button up shirts and her hair is always done. I, on the other hand, wear the same pair of shoes with every outfit, and I’m lucky if I remember to brush my hair in the mornings. She works a real 9 to 5 job with a salary and coworkers and staff meetings. I couldn’t even begin to describe my job to you but it wouldn’t sound anything like that. On the outside she is much more put together than me. However, seeing her the other night reminded me how easy she is to be around, how simply enjoyable she is. I walked away feeling quite good about myself. And the reason is because she is confident. Which in turn, made me confident. I’m sure she has, but I can’t remember a time when I heard her use a disclaimer. She is who she is and she loves the people around her for who they are, differences and all. It’s refreshing.

I really think that songwriters are notoriously insecure. Maybe creative types in general. It’s hard to put something together with the materials you have available and then reveal it to someone else. Because what if they see through the half written verse and realize that I am in fact, void of substance. Void of anything worthwhile to say. This is the voice every creative person must fight off. This thought process only leads to disaster. We must revert back to kindergarten where “no question is a bad question.”

It seems even the best ones have their set backs, but in the evolution of a songwriter, one arrives at a place where idea after idea gets freely tossed into the pile of words and melodies in the middle of the room without any disclaimers. Warts and all. There is little room for filters in co-writing. The truth is, when someone's bad idea is combined with someone else's bad idea, the result can be a very good idea, or at least an organized bad idea that leads to a good idea. Because although I do think there are bad ones (and I have come up with mounds of them) ...a songwriter must go into a writing session with the thought that in fact, “no idea is a bad idea”. A confident vulnerability is crucial to a successful co-writing experience. Insecurity is a waste of time.

Still here...if only in part

Being James' mother has given me more pride and more humility than I've ever had. It's a new exhaustion and a new energy, I am settling down and speeding up. I seem to be pulled in very conflicting directions at all hours of the day and I have a new appreciation for pretty much everybody.

The one thing that seems to be continuously moving forward is my heart as I love this little boy more more every day. I promise I'm trying to write more. I have so much I want to write about but as new moms all seem to know, my brain works differently now and the minute my thoughts start to move a direction I would like to follow (that might lead to a song or blog post) another thought trail begins, or James wakes up from his nap, or the laundry beeps, or I'm late for an appointment, or I realize I haven't eaten lunch and am about to fall over. :) I also promise this won't turn into a mom blog, but for now it's all I can think about. Here are some pictures of the last month.

Flying to Iowa for a show


Happy Face!


Sad Face :(


Sweet sweet little boy :)

A Son

I have a son. I’ve used the word only a few select times in public. I try it out at home every now and then to see how it sounds, before I fully incorporate it into my vocabulary. I remember feeling similar with the words “husband” and “wife”. I have a son. A son. It’s a big word.

Today James and I went to the grocery store by ourselves. This was made possible by the help of a pretty fancy sling that will probably become a staple. We went to Trader Joes. I figured James’ first grocery store should be a good one. We also went to the doctor this morning and by the time we got home in the afternoon I felt like I had accomplished enough for the whole week! It’s funny how my to do lists have changed. The other day I actually had “cut toe-nails” on my list.

My world feels smaller and slower and my heart... already, is softer.

James took his time revealing himself. I went into labor on a tuesday and didn’t have him until friday night. The story of his birth is a long one that I won’t go into detail about, I just know that God taught me many lessons in those few days of waiting for James, and in those last hours when I didn’t think I could endure one more contraction, and when I was certain I would never see my little ones face, I kept hearing in my head,

“Shall I bring to the point of birth and not give delivery?” - Isaiah 66:9

That moment when I first felt James on my chest was a good moment. One of the ones I think maybe I was made for. My mom was there, my husband, our doula/midwife, and a handful of hospital staff whose faces are blurry to me. The moments after James was delivered are all pretty blurry to me. I was exhausted, relieved, awe-struck, and overwhelmed. But I remember.

I remember seeing the smile on my husbands face as he softly said, “we have a son”
I remember hearing the first cry of the life that grew in my womb
feeling james’ hands wrap around my finger as I held him for the first time
I do not take these things for granted.
I know what a miracle it is, what a gift it is from God to give birth to a life.

I don’t exactly know how life is going to look for our new little family. We still have a lot of figuring out to do, a lot of unknowns. But something changed in me the minute James was born. Something calmed, something settled. Life will never be the same. I have a son!

James

It's a boy!!

I have many stories to tell and pictures to share but for now I just wanted to let it be known that James Rogers Dahlgren entered the world on Friday April 24th, weighing in at 8 lbs 1 oz. We are all exhausted but doing great and loving these first days together. I promise I will share more soon!

The Wednesday Game of Non-Sequiturs

I've had too much caffeine today (the baby doesn't seem to mind...) and I'm already anxious since my due date is tomorrow (What?!) and it doesn't look like this baby will be on time. SO, what better way to calm ones self than with a game, right? So here it is, a game for a wandering mind like mine, and on a wednesday no less. Wednesday's are for wandering anyway, are they not? I always get my best work done on Friday's, I'm finally warmed up by then...anyway...

The Wednesday Game of Non-Sequiturs:

3 things that are always in my fridge: tortilla's, eggs, butter

Most recent guilty pleasure song: Dead and Gone by TI and Justin Timberlake. I know.... I'm surprised too.

Favorite class from high school: creative writing

If I could grow anything perfectly in my backyard it would be: tomatoes. I just love the smell of fresh tomatoes. And I can't decide on a single herb or flower.

Most Used Wedding Gift: KitchenAid Mixer (if not-married, you can answer with most used gift in general)

Talent I wish I was born with: cooking

Color I would paint my fingernails if I didn't care what people thought of me: Purple. I say this because I have a bottle of light purple fingernail polish that I bought on a whim and occasionally take it out and put it on a finger or toe in the hopes that I will have the courage to finish a whole hand or foot... I never do. One day my friends, one day. The fact remains, I do care what people think of me. What is it I am afraid people will deduct from purple nail polish? Maybe that they will think I'm too childish, not sophisticated enough. You like how I'm finding some deep meaning out of my reluctance to be daring with nail polish? moving on...

Favorite thing to find in your lunchbox as a child: I think I'll go with pringles.

Age you would not like to revisit: 13

Age you would like to revisit: 10

Book I still haven't finished but is on the top of my finish list: The Omnivore's Dilemma

And finally,

Day I think Alli will give birth to her first child that is due tomorrow: I'm pulling for this saturday, the 18th.

If you need a distraction for a few minutes today, feel free to leave your answers in the comments! I'll let you know when this baby comes!

Afraid

I don’t want to admit that I am. But the fear is undeniable. Debra Rienstra (and her narrative that has been a companion to me through this pregnancy) calls it the “quiet, tensing fear, a constant, high-pitched hum that no one can hear but me.”

There is something lonely about pregnancy that can not be assuaged. I felt this from the very beginning and sort of expected it to go away with time. It has not and possibly will not.

It’s as if a pregnant woman enters this new realm of spiritual mystery, a water that must be traveled alone. For some reason I picture the underground lake from the Phantom of The Opera.

It is traveled alone because there is no other way. I don’t think our human minds or hearts can hold what it means to give birth to a life. We cannot fathom such a miracle, and the mother who carries the child cannot speak of the depth she experiences, simply because she does not have the words.

In the middle of the night, wide awake, I stare at the pack and play in our room where the new baby will sleep very soon. I walk over to it and push the button that turns on it’s nightlight. I touch the fabric where we will soon lay our son or daughter. And I hear the hum. The constant hum that Debra writes about. She says,

“One indisputable truth about pregnancy is that once the baby is in there, it must come out somehow. The end is near, the end is real. The only way out is through.”

I am afraid of the birth itself, I would be a fool not to be. But more than that, I tremble at the enormity of experiencing life on this level. Experiencing the Creator on this level. How is it that He gives us such a taste of something so far beyond our current capacity? I have not yet seen this child's face, and already I am overwhelmed with awe.