This Girl Needs A Man

Delaney turned 3 years old today! She is fun, goofy, and spontaneous. She loves dressing up as a "superhero dancer girl with glasses."

I am amazed at how much this girl wants to be held, snuggled, kissed, and looked at. Sometimes I just stare at her, just a few inches from her face, and she stares right back at me. She craves attention from her daddy.

And I know, as her father, that I need to give her that attention. I need her to feel loved and cherished by the man in her life. Me. I show her what it is like to be a woman based on how I treat Jen, and I show her what it is like to be loved in a way that Jen cannot. I set her up for a future, feeling safe and secure knowing that there is a man in her life who loves her, protects her, and makes her feel like I would do anything for her.

As I stare into her eyes, inches away, her smile beaming brighter and brighter the longer I hold her gaze, I see a teenager. I see a young woman. I see a future wife. When Delaney says "Kiss me again, Daddy!" I immediately think about how many dads neglect their little girls and then they look for love in other men out there willing to give it to them. The difference is that other men want something in return, whereas I just love her because she is my daughter. So I kiss her again.

This little 3 year old will not be a goofy superhero dancer girl with glasses forever. She will develop into a butterfly and flutter out of my grasp at the time when God says "it's time." And I'll have to let her go. I just hope and pray that God will give me the strength to be the best dad I can be for her. That I will give her enough kisses that she will not need to look for them in men who want to take advantage of her. That I will balance love and discipline in a way that God balances it perfectly with us, His own sons and daughters. That I will be a diligent father with the limited time I have with her and trust in the path God has for her with the rest.

I love you, Delaney-Bug! Happy birthday!

The Screwtape Letters

I finally finished reading The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis! After many years of wanting to read it, and many years of it collecting dust on my nightstand, and eventually realizing I would be more likely to finish it via audiobook, I checked it out of our fantastic Multnomah County Library. Just a few days listening to it on my phone was all I needed to feel a huge weight lifted off my shoulders! I wrote my favorite parts below. For those of you who don't know the plot of the book, it is about a demon writing letters to his nephew about how to best tempt his patient (human) and ultimately their desire to lead him to hell. Such a great book.

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"Before I knew where I was I saw my twenty years' work beginning to totter. If I had lost my head and begun to attempt a defense by argument I should have been undone. But I was not such a fool. I struck instantly at the part of the man which I had best under my control and suggested that it was just about time he had some lunch." (Letter 1)

"Let him think how much he dislikes it. Let him assume that she knows how annoying it is and does it to annoy--if you know your job he will not notice the immense probability of the assumption. And, of course, never let him suspect that he has tones and looks which similarly annoy her. As he cannot see or hear himself, this is easily managed." (Letter 3)

"My dear Wormwood, you mentioned casually in your last letter that the patient has continued to attend one church, and one only, since he was converted, and that he is not wholly pleased with it. ... Do you realize that unless it is due to indifference it is a very bad thing? Surely you know that if a man can't be cured of churchgoing, the next best thing is to send him all over the neighborhood looking for the church that 'suits' him until he becomes a taster or connoisseur of churches. ... Being a unity of place and not of likings, [the church] brings people of different classes and psychology together in the kind of unity that [God] desires. ... The search for a 'suitable' church makes the man a critic, where [God] wants him to be a pupil." (Letter 16)

"Members of His faction have frequently admitted that if ever we came to understand what [God] means by love, the war would be over and we should re-enter Heaven. And there lies the great task. We know that He cannot really love: nobody can: it doesn't make sense. If we could only find out what He is really up to! Hypothesis after hypothesis has been tried, and still we can't find out. Yet we must never lose hope; more and more complicated theories, fuller and fuller collections of data, richer rewards for researchers who make progress, more and more terrible punishments for those who fail--all this, pursued and accelerated to the very end of time, cannot, surely, fail to succeed." (Letter 19)

"Superstitions, if not recognized as such, can be awakened. The point is to keep him feeling that he has something, other than God and courage [God] supplies, to fall back on, so that what was intended to be a total commitment to duty becomes honeycombed all through with little unconscious reservations." (Letter 29)

"The paradoxical thing is that moderate fatigue is a better soil for peevishness than absolute exhaustion. This depends partly on physical causes, but partly on something else. It is not fatigue simply as such that produces the anger, but unexpected demands on a man already tired. Whatever men expect they soon come to think they have a right to: the sense of disappointment can, with very little skill on our part, be turned into a sense of injury." (Letter 30)

Why We Moved to East Portland

We used to live in Southwest Portland. Southwest is known for its hills, peaceful neighborhoods, and low crime rates. We now live in East Portland. The east side is known for its lack of sidewalks, cheaper housing, and higher crime rates. 

So, why did we choose to live in East Portland?

Many people we know seem to be a bit confused as to why we moved to a neighborhood that would definitely not be considered "family-friendly," especially when we are expecting our third child to be born anytime now. In fact, we really want to live here. There are a number of reasons why: God has called us to be here, we were priced out of our old apartment, and we have community here. 

First and foremost, God has made it clear to us that He wants us here. We are members of a great church in Portland, Imago Dei Community. We have loved what God is doing through this group ever since we have lived in the city. The church is located in inner Southeast Portland, within walking distance of the river. Imago decided to form an Eastside campus at about the same time we were thinking about moving out of our 2-bedroom apartment in Southwest. Jen and I both felt like the Holy Spirit was telling us that we were being called back to the east side. We used to live at Burnside and 143rd before we had kids and before my teaching jobs moved our family around to different locations in the state. God was apparently providing a path for us to return.

East Portland has been often regarded as "neglected" by city officials and is arguably one of the most needy areas of Multnomah County. As the diagram to the right shows, crime is relatively high in this area, and we moved smack dab into one of those red spots, which indicates that residential robberies is "well above average." The funny thing about this not seeming like a "family-friendly" area is that many young families actually live in East Portland. 28% of the city's total population lives here, but it is home to 37% of the city's school-age children (source). We have an opportunity to make a difference here. God is at work on the east side, and we want to be a part of it. James wrote that faith without works is dead. We believe that God love the people in this part of the city just as much as any other area. If there is a need for help, then my question is... why aren't more Christians coming to live here? We want to act in response to our faith, so to us, this is a no-brainer.

"East PDX is Getting Poorer and Angrier"

Secondly, we live in East Portland because we were priced out of Southwest. Our rent kept increasing more and more each year in the 2-bedroom apartment we lived in previously. Living in Multnomah Village was an ideal location because I was able to walk to work, it was equidistant between my parents and our friends, and we were a stone's throw from an I-5 on-ramp. However, with our third child due to be born this summer, we knew two bedrooms would be too cramped. We couldn't find any affordable 3-bedroom apartments in Southwest, so we knew we had to look elsewhere. East Portland is known for its cheaper housing, and since we already knew the area, it seemed natural to look there. The unfortunate reality that many struggling families find themselves in is that if they have to move to a particular area, then other costs increase. For example, now that we live on the east side, I have to commute to work. We needed to get another car and pay for the gas and insurance that goes with it (I would love to take TriMet, but three hours round trip each day would be suicide for Riedl family morale).

To be completely honest, we actually feel like we fit in here, financially speaking. Our neighbors on the east side drive crappy cars, are on food stamps, and have a hard time making ends meet. We are in the same boat. Like many low-income families, we are struggling to keep our heads above water. We feel like we can identify with a lot of the difficulties people face in our neighborhood. In Southwest Portland, we felt like outsiders.

The third reason we really want to be in East Portland is that we have community here. Living in the Glenfair Neighborhood before we had kids, we helped start the Glenfair Community Garden, which was a great way to meet our neighbors and help those who can benefit from fresh produce. We got to know people in the area from church, grew to be friends, and now hope to do more of the same, especially now that Imago has an Eastside campus. We now live in the Powellhurst-Gilbert Neighborhood, just off 122nd and Division. Driving down Division in this area certainly isn't as welcoming as driving down Capitol Hwy in Multnomah Village. They are polar opposites.

East Portland is also known for being more culturally diverse. According to the image to the right, the black, Asian, and Hispanic populations have been increasing while the white population is decreasing. Imago Eastside seeks to also be intentionally diverse--not just another white church in a diverse neighborhood--rather, a body representing the area it is located. There are already more races and ethnicities represented than the typical Portland church, which is something I am proud to say I'm a part of. With all the racial issues surrounding our country at a time like this with Ferguson, Baltimore, and Charleston, we want to be a part of what is going on. We don't want to just look from afar and spit out our opinion from time to time, thinking that words are enough to make a difference. No. It takes more than just words. It takes action.

Since action is what makes a difference rather than just talking about it, that is where I begin to wrap this up. We know that we want to be where the problems are so we can help make a difference. However, we are not done by just moving here. This is only the beginning. We need to step outside of our apartment and meet people. We need to remember their names and get to know them. Our goal in life is to love God and love our neighbors. We need to find a place or a way to volunteer regularly. There are other churches and non-profits who are already here following God's call to help their neighbors and we need to find them and work together. There is so much pain in this world and it's so much more apparent here than it is in Southwest. Christ has led us into a place that is uncomfortable, and that's a good thing.

Kids, Chores, and God

Nolan is at the age where he loves to help me with chores, no matter what it is that I am doing. "Daddy, can I help?" is a question I hear almost every day from him. If I had all the time in the world, I would have him help me with everything that I do, not only because I love his natural curiosity and desire to learn, but also because I simply love being with him.

However, when I include Nolan in whatever chore that I am doing (i.e., unloading the dishwasher, sweeping the floor, folding laundry, etc.), it almost always takes much longer than if I just did it myself. Since he is four years old, it takes time to teach him, reteach him, train him, practice with him, watch him, talk him through it, and then once we are finished doing it together, I often need to redo it all myself anyway if I need it done correctly. If I include my son with my work, it always takes longer, and the work is never done perfectly.

This is just like our Father in heaven. I visualize God looking down on us, seeing all the pain in the world and Him working in the lives of the people all across the city. However, the awesome thing about God is that He actually includes us in his work! God doesn't need us to help. He could get His work done a lot sooner if He didn't include us in the work He is doing in our city. We make mistakes when we help Him, but He is patient and talks us through it. Sometimes He just watches us and sees how we do on our own. And most importantly, we can talk to Him through the process. He listens to us and speaks into our lives. God is our Daddy who lets us help Him with His work.

The best part is that Nolan thinks he is actually helping me with my chores! It's hilarious! When I tell him we are finished, I say "thanks so much for helping" and he skips away with a big grin on his face. He is certainly doing his best, but is that really making a difference from my perspective? No way! I just love being with him, and it's the same with God. Am I really making a difference in the work that God is doing? Not at all. He just loves being with me.

Moving to Imago Dei's Eastside Campus

We had another gathering tonight for Imago Dei Community's Eastside Campus, which is launching slowly but surely. Pastor Eric Knox is leading us to the Hazelwood Neighborhood in East Portland. We are currently meeting monthly in a lecture hall in David Douglas High School.

God definitely made it clear to Jen and I that we are supposed to move back to East Portland after moving away to go to Ontario, Oregon and then to where we are now in SW Portland in order to find a solid teaching job for me. Now, since I have a secure job teaching at a private school in SW, we have the freedom to move anywhere we want (in other words, SW Portland is too expensive and we need to move somewhere cheaper and with more room for when our new baby is born, and besides, we miss the comforting Friday night sirens in East Portland too much). Lol

In all honesty, we really have a heart for East Portland and all the crap going on over there between it and Gresham. Before Nolan and Delaney existed, we were really enjoying starting the Glenfair Community Garden, which we helped our friends from Glenfair Church build from scratch. It was such an awesome way to get to know our neighbors and build community. We hope to do more of that in the future when we move back, including getting more involved with East Portland Neighborhood Office (EPNO) and whatever neighborhood association corresponds to wherever we end up living.

The leadership team for Imago Dei Eastside has a great heart for really wanting to help those who are already living their lives in East Portland without trying to change them into something they aren't. We want to build relationships and help them discover their assets and use those to their advantage in order to allow them to be successful with their immediate needs, and through that they will receive Jesus' love through us. We are partnering with SecondStories.org to learn more about how to build relationships and being WITH them rather than just doing things for them.

As for Sunday services, it is really up in the air right now. We need people to step up and volunteer in order to get a weekly service going. I will be leading the production of audio/video, slides, etc. while Jen will be working with the nursery and preschool kiddos. It is very strange to be in a small church type setting again, even smaller than when we were at Origins in Ontario. We definitely know this is where we want to be, since we want God to stretch us and use us to glorify His name in one of the most diverse, low-income, and neglected areas in the Portland area. God is already doing awesome things. We are just joining in!

Oh yeah... and we also still need to actually move there. Our lease ends in a few months, so, if anyone hears of any inexpensive 3-bedroom  houses or apartments for rent, we're hoping to find a place before our baby pops out in July! Hopefully by the end of June we'll be settling into a new place! Crazy changes ahead!! We are looking forward to where God is leading us. We are up for anything, good or bad... as long as we are loving God and loving others, we know we are on the right path!

Lenten Learning

Jen and I have been thinking about the Easter Bunny and all those crappy traditions that have nothing to do with Jesus, and we decided to do something during Lent that actually means something. 

For us, as adults, the season of Lent is a great time to give up something special to us as a sacrifice in order to spend more time focusing on Jesus. However, for Nolan (4 years old) and Delaney (2 years old), we feel like they are too young to really understand the depth of sacrifice.

We decided to start a tradition called "Lenten Learning", which is a time of teaching our kids about Jesus during the season of Lent in a fun and memorable way, much like the season of Advent. Our Advent calendar was a fun way of counting down the days until Christmas, celebrating Jesus' birthday. This "Lenten Learning" calendar is just something we quickly put together one night, compiling a bunch of stories about Jesus as He grew up from a boy, what He did, things He said, people He healed, eventually leading up to His death and resurrection!

Easter is just as much of a miracle to be anticipated and celebrated as Christmas is, so we are looking forward to talking about one thing each night at the dinner table, writing a quick Post-It note of what we learned, and then compiling all of them on a green cross cut out of construction paper hanging from our dining room wall. We are looking forward to the end when it is all full of colorful Post-Its, when we celebrate Jesus' sacrifice for us on the cross and conquering death by coming back to life!

Just out of prison

On a dark, drizzly night off East Burnside Street, I got off the bus to transfer. I was immediately greeted with a "Hey bro!" I met Gabriel, a 25 year old, at a bus stop just off the Burnside Bridge. He asked me for the time, and rather quickly the conversation transformed to him telling me he just got out of prison and was on parole. He showed me his ankle bracelet.

We talked for a long time. He mentioned how earlier that day he restrained himself when he wanted to pummel some guys who called him a retard. He was so proud of himself for not hitting them. We talked a lot about self control and the importance of thinking before speaking. I showed him my tattoo ("fewer words"), told him how I struggle with keeping my mouth shut when I'm with my wife, and we shared some laughs about how difficult relationships can be.

He said God has been so faithful to him. He has never given up on him. I told him the reason I was on the bus was that I was actually headed to church. We laughed some more.

>> Cross-posted from my TriMet Travels blog

Pick A Book, Nolan!

Jen recently said to Nolan, "Pick a quick book, Nolan. Then after we read it, you're going to bed."

With a big smile on his face, he brings her our Bible and asks, "Is this a quick book mommy?"

Getting Ready for Christmas

About a week ago, someone asked us, "So, is your family ready for Christmas?"

Naturally, we responded with a socially acceptable answer, "Yep," and don't think much of it. However, after thinking about it for a while, we thought there might be a better answer. We have been anticipating and preparing for Christmas for the entire length of the season of Advent. We have used our advent calendar each day to discover which Bible verses/stories to read, share little fun treats with our kids, and remind ourselves of the gift of Jesus by doing family activities together.

The word "advent" means "coming" or "arrival" of our Lord, God, into our world in human form. He came humbly as a baby to an unwed teenage girl in a stable in a small town in the middle of nowhere.

Yes, we are ready for Christmas. We have been anticipating and celebrating for the whole month! I hope the original question wasn't in regards to presents or anything materialistic like that... :-/

Thinking Differently: Faith in Action

My family volunteering at Neighborhood House

When I was younger, I thought that being a "good example" was enough of a witness to the message of Jesus. My plan was that the people around me would see that I lived a good life and ask me what motivates me. It would be then that I would be able to share my faith with them because they were open to hearing it. It seemed like such a great plan to me because I wouldn't have to bug them about my beliefs, and it would be perfect timing for them when they were ready to hear it.

That way of thinking was ridiculous. I didn't really understand that I sinned just as much as any other person in the world, so my idea of being a "good example" was flawed. This was just selfish because I didn't want to actually do anything with my faith.

Now, as a married man with kids, I am reading more of the Bible and learning more about this faith that I believe in. I am realizing that being a Christian is not just about what I believe, but how I live out my faith.

James says, "What good is it if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save them?" He goes on to say that someone who wishes someone well without caring for their physical needs is pointless. Jesus consistently cared for those who were hurting and in pain.

What have I been doing with my faith? It's not about just believing and working on my own life. God has called us to not only love Him, but also love others.

If I want to be more like Jesus, I should be caring for those who are hurting. What could I do? It seems overwhelming to know where to start since there is so much crap in this world. Getting out of my comfort zone is the first step. God gives me the confidence to think about others more than myself, get off my ass, and go help people in need. It's a witness of Christ's love when He is working in me to do something my flesh doesn't naturally want to do.

Jen and I recently took Nolan and Delaney to Neighborhood House to help volunteer. It is a non-profit organization that helps low-income people in the community. Their goal is to help vulnerable people overcome challenges to achieve success, stability, and independence. About once per month they have a family volunteer night that is ideal to bring kids to help. Nolan and Delaney had a blast!

My students volunteering at Neighborhood House

At school, I took my students to Neighborhood House in two groups. We plan to go back twice every trimester, developing a partnership that lasts. Not just a one-time food drive, but regularly helping with our time. I made a video with my students and we presented it to the other K-5 students at school. My students also had a blast!

If it is such a blast to help others (I think it is too), then why don't Christians do it more often? Why do we always make excuses NOT to help others?

I need to think differently. My faith must lead to action. These actions of ours are done as a response to the message of Jesus. He is the source of love. He saved us and we ought to respond with loving others as well.

The Real Reason I Became A Teacher

I did not become a teacher to only teach math.
I did not become a teacher to only teach science.
I did not become a teacher to only teach reading.
I did not become a teacher to only teach grammar.
I did not become a teacher to only teach spelling, writing, social studies, or anything academic.

I did not become a teacher to only teach things that really don't matter.
I realized the real reason I became a teacher this week...

For two weeks my students worked on skits to show how certain types of people need help from non-profit organizations like Neighborhood House. I also brought my students to serve at Neighborhood House, and I plan to take them back each of the other trimesters this school year. I put a fun video together, showing how the kids served and their excitement for helping others.

It hit me when my students presented the video of them serving in chapel to the K-5 students in our school. I started crying in the middle of the video (thankfully it was pitch dark in our auditorium, so it was a special moment without my students catching me crying!). Being in chapel wasn't why I became a teacher. I never thought I would be teaching mostly white, upper-class, Christian kids in private school. But God called me to something better than I had planned. He humbled me by whipping me into shape in Ontario, then put me in this place, which is perfect for my gifts and how me made me. Knowing how crappy teaching can be if one is not well prepared, God prepared me so I wouldn't get a big head and think I was the best thing since sliced bread.

I became a teacher to be an example to kids.
I became a teacher to show them what it looks like for a man to love Jesus.
I became a teacher to spread excitement about loving others.
I became a teacher to serve.

Memories

This blog has evolved quite a bit since I started it in 2006. I began writing as a single guy right out of college, forming my opinions about life, and growing in maturity (as if I ever really completely reach maturity!). My hope for the future is that it becomes something more.

My first posts here were about movies, politics, tv shows, and other silly things I don't care to post about as much anymore. As I deepened my theological beliefs, I connected it with the world around me as best as I could. I look back on those musings now and realize they were essential for growth and understanding the culture I was in.

The next phase of this blog transitioned into my engagement with Jen, getting married, and realizing the depth of my pride. This was definitely a time of adjustment as my selfishness was being displayed to my spouse every day. We didn't know where our future was headed as we moved from Seattle to Portland, didn't have solid jobs, and were at an all-time low on cash.

It was then that God put teaching on my heart. I worked at the YMCA doing after school care, and my desire to work in the classroom was overwhelming. I filled this blog with posts about funny kid quotes, educating others (including my most popular post about educating others about my birth defect, Poland Syndrome), my opinions (and Jen's) about all the crappy parenting we see, and how I planned to make a difference.

As I began working on my Masters degree, I started Riedlteach.com, blogged about children's books, shared what I was learning, and began teaching at a variety of public schools. I was confident in my God-given abilities to connect with my students, but was still just getting my feet wet. ...Fewer blog posts.

At home, Jen and I welcomed Nolan into the world. Balancing my first few of years teaching, being a husband, and being a father taught me to prioritize and learn. A lot. I realized that at that time of my life, blogging was just not going to happen. ...Even fewer posts.

Our rough experience in Ontario, Oregon, really put the last nail in the coffin for this blog. This post was sitting on the front page for a long time. God really has put our family through a lot these past few years. I'm glad, too. We trust in Him more because life isn't supposed to be easy.

Now, I'm realizing that in this next phase of life, I don't want to forget the good and bad memories my family is working through every day. I want to resurrect this blog and start sharing again. As the years fly by with a steady job and kids growing like weeds, it can easily slip away. I hope to use this blog as a way to record memories, share experiences, and look back on what is most important.

Asher: My Miscarriage Story

We found out we were pregnant at the beginning of June and we were thrilled. We were excited for one of our kids to have a same-gender sibling, and excited to go beyond the typical “perfect” family of one girl and one boy. We already had names picked out and were planning how to announce our newest addition to the world.

On a Tuesday in July, at 9½ weeks, we flew to Arizona to visit my parents and brother and sister-in-law. The first night we were there, we sat on the floor of my old bedroom in the house I grew up in, introducing the kids to Grandma’s dogs, and exploring toys she had bought for them. We sat and talked for a bit, and I went to the bathroom and discovered I was bleeding. It was a small amount, but bright red blood. I tried not to panic, but the only other time I have bled in pregnancy was when I had a miscarriage at five weeks, a little over two years ago.

I called my midwives back home, and felt reassured that the midwife I spoke to believed it didn’t mean miscarriage was inevitable, and the fact that I was not in pain was a good sign. I was instructed to go to the ER if my bleeding got really heavy, or if I was feeling cramping. I had a small amount of bleeding for several hours, and then it tapered off overnight.

The next morning, I was feeling hopeful that the bleeding was over and that everything was fine. However, early afternoon, I began bleeding again. I knew that bright red bleeding was not a good sign, and began to really worry about my baby. I called my midwife again, and cried a lot while I was on the phone with her, discussing the “what ifs”. I was worried about going to the ER, finding out the worst, and being pressured to have a D&C rather than being allowed to miscarry at home. My midwife assured me that I could refuse a procedure, and that at 9 weeks, the baby would be small enough to pass at home. She encouraged me to go to the ER if I wanted to, so at least I would have an answer about what was going on, and we decided to go.

Aaron and I were checked in quickly and taken directly to a room without having to wait. The nurses drew my blood and started an IV. We waited just a short time, and then the Physician’s Assistant came in to do a pelvic exam. He said that my cervix was closed, but that any time you bleed during pregnancy it is considered a threatened miscarriage. Then, I was transported to radiology for an ultrasound.

I had multiple ultrasounds during my pregnancies with my two kids, and we knew what we should see and hear. The tech that did my ultrasound didn’t say anything while he working. But we knew. In the first ten seconds we knew we were not seeing the little flutter of a heartbeat. He had the volume turned way down, but I heard the silence when I should have heard the “whoosh whoosh”.

I didn’t cry the entire time we were at the hospital. We went to the pharmacy on the way back to my mom’s house, and when we checked out, the cashier handed us our bags and smiled and said, “Have a great day and be well.” I felt like I had been slapped in the face. And I cried for the first time since talking to my midwife on the phone.

I bled steadily, but not too heavily, all that day and the next. I had manageable cramping off and on until around 10pm on Thursday, when I realized my pain was coming and going rhythmically...contractions. They continued for a couple hours, and then Delaney woke up crying. I decided to take a couple Advil and take her to bed with me and try to sleep. Not too much later, I sat up in bed and felt a gush. This time when I went to the bathroom, it wasn’t blood. My water had broken. I decided to stay up then, since I was having more painful contractions that felt like I was in active labor. Aaron stayed up with me and we watched TV while I labored. In the next hour or so, I passed a tiny baby. It was only about an inch long, but we could see its fingers and toes, and dark spots on its face where its eyes were developing.

My contractions spaced out and got less intense. I finally was able to sleep around 4am, and my contractions must have stopped, because I slept for 3 hours. When I woke up, they started again, not too painful, but consistent. Around 9 hours after the baby came out, I passed two pieces of placental tissue, and one was as big as the palm of my hand. As soon as that happened, my contractions stopped. I bled heavily for the rest of that day and the next day, and passed a few more small pieces of tissue. I bled for a total of two weeks, mostly spotting or really light bleeding during the second week.

When I spoke to my midwife on the phone about passing the baby, I actually felt relieved. I had been concerned about whether everything would happen on its own. I can see how women who experience a miscarriage could feel their body has betrayed them, but I know there is nothing I could have done differently to change anything, and I feel that my body did its job when our baby died. Our baby measured 8 weeks and 2 days on the ultrasound, but the hospital gave us a 10 day window when the baby could have actually passed. I believe that it probably happened just days before I began bleeding, as I was still having pregnancy symptoms when it started, and the baby was bigger and more developed than we were expecting to see.

Losing a baby in miscarriage is one of the hardest things I have ever been through. Losing two this way is something that I never believed would happen to me. We named our baby Asher, which means “blessing”, because even though we lost our baby, Romans 8:28 says, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” We hope that our story will encourage someone else someday. We chose a verse for Asher that gives us hope:

“To all who mourn in Israel,
he will give a crown of beauty for ashes,
a joyous blessing instead of mourning,
festive praise instead of despair.
In their righteousness, they will be like great oaks
that the Lord has planted for his own glory.”
Isaiah 61:3

God is enough.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PTc_FoELt8s

Jehovah Jireh

"The Lord will provide" is what Jehovah Jireh means. Sometimes it is difficult to refer to God as Jehovah Jireh, however. Does He really provide for us? Or do we provide for ourselves?

39 days ago, Jen and I experienced something that has given us assurance to know that God should definitely be called Jehovah Jireh. He provides for us.

Our whole marriage has been a struggle financially. We moved to Portland from Seattle after being married only six months. Jen worked low wages and I found minimum wage work as we slowly used up our savings. I eventually took out loans and went back to school to get my masters degree in teaching. This was bad timing to be looking for a teaching position, as most school districts were making budget cuts and laying off teachers. I was eventually offered a full-time job teaching in Ontario, Oregon, so we moved our little family of three to the small town on the border to Idaho.

We thought it would be easier to pay the bills with my new teaching position, but we were wrong. We both wanted Jen to work at home raising Nolan, but didn't have any experience with the strain of having only one spouse bring home an income. The money we had saved when we were both working disappeared in our move from Portland and with each month of additional bills. We worked hard to be responsible and tried our best to cut expenses, rarely going out to eat and even starting to coupon with every trip to the grocery store. But we still were losing money each month.

The point of me writing all of this is about money. ...Duh... Not about how little we have, but about how much we were giving away. Over the past four years of marriage, we kept telling each other that we didn't have enough money to pay bills and also give 10% tithe or offering to church. So we didn't give. Well, not much. Maybe 10 bucks a month or something ridiculously convenient for us. We kept telling ourselves that because we didn't have enough money, we could give our time instead. So we served. We spent a lot of our time serving in the children's ministry instead of giving money.

This leads me to what happened 39 days ago. We are sitting with a cranky, fidgety Nolan on Sunday morning listening to our pastor's message about money. He starts talking about how the church budget had literally run dry. He told us, like so many times we've heard before, that God will provide the money even though we had not been meeting the monthly budgets to pay the church bills.

Up until this point, Jen and I both wanted to tithe enough for it to be giving Him the opportunity to provide for us. We wanted to actually trust God rather than just trying to make ends meet on our own. And we were in no position to do this. The minimum payments on our student loans were almost 50% of our monthly bills. Thinking about this statistic, I knew that we didn't have much hope for fixing this problem ourselves. I certainly knew I didn't want Jen to go back to work and have to put Nolan in daycare. We wanted to trust God with our finances for the first time in our lives. We didn't even have to discuss it...after the service, we both had the same conviction to give 10% of our income to the church, even when there was no way we could afford it. We were trusting that God would do something.

It only took 24 hours for God to work! The next day I heard from a friend about a plan that Obama was trying to pass that helped out graduates who are burdened by paying off their student loans. After doing a little research, I found out that this was called the Income-Based Repayment Plan and only certain people qualify for it. Jen and I looked into it, learned that we do in fact qualify, and stayed up late that night applying for the plan together.

While we would have likely discovered the repayment plan eventually, even without tithing 10%, we are certain that it was more than just a coincidence in timing. Right after we both decided to go out on a limb and be faithful to God with our finances, He answered our prayer quickly and revealed His faithfulness to us. We were guided to a place where we were not feeling the burden of bills that has weighed us down since getting married.

And two days ago, on my last day of school before winter break, I get a call from a lady at Home Depot telling me that a man came in to anonymously buy us a new washing machine. Our current washing machine has been leaking and slowly dying, and apparently someone we know who referred to himself as "Santa" wanted to be extremely generous and buy us a new one! Jen thought it was a joke at first, but we went in to the store to confirm the order and have it shipped to our apartment. We were racking our brains trying to think of who it was that could have done this for us, but then we stepped back and realized that we already knew who "Santa" was. It was God.

God has provided so many things in our lives, even when we don't even realize it. This Christmas season has been extremely special because God made it clear to us that He is the one giving us gifts...not just at this time of year, but all day, every day. Every good and perfect gift comes from Him, and it was especially clear to us here. We will always look back on this time as evidence that God is at work in our lives. He is Jehovah Jireh and we can only respond by giving up our lives (which includes our money) to serve and love others.

My Daily Battle With Poland Syndrome

Many people have commented on my previous post (I Have Poland Syndrome) that they admire my courage and bravery in sharing my birth defect with the world. They appreciate that I look on the bright side and love life, being confident that God made me this way for a reason.

Well, I want to let you in on a little secret... I'm not courageous. I'm not brave.

I'm self-conscious.

Now, some of you might think that I am courageous relative to others that have Poland Syndrome. Others with this birth defect are afraid to even tell their closest friends that they have a misshapen body and a figure that would get stares from people at the pool or beach. That may be true, but it is hiding the whole truth.

The reality is that all of my family and friends often forget that I even have Poland Syndrome. They thought it was interesting at first, and now they don't even notice it. It is not who I am, it's just what's under my shirt.

The real battle is with my own self-image. I still see my one-sided chest every morning. Every day I see my puny right bicep and thin arm. When I have my shirt off at the pool, I often intentionally put my towel over my right shoulder in order to hide my missing right pec muscle. When I pose in photos, I often intentionally stand on the left side of people to show off my left bicep rather than exposing my right. These are things I think about.

The first photo above was taken four years ago when we moved to Portland. I have this photo in a frame by my desk at work and every time I look at it, it reminds me how I purposefully stood that way to hide my right arm. I like the way I look in it because it shows off my left bicep and pec muscle.

The second photo was taken about a month ago. In this photo, I immediately look at my right arm and see how small it looks. Many would say "Aaron, it doesn't look small. It's not a big deal," but it looks small to me. I struggle with focusing on all of the joys in the photo. I'm not ignoring my beautiful wife and cute son on a beautiful day at the pumpkin patch, it's just that my eyes keep panning down to my arm.

This is the battle of self-image that I struggle with. It's not eating me up inside or anything. I live a pretty normal life. Most of my time is spent thinking about work and my loving family that I come home to every day. But those other times of the day when I am daydreaming or looking at photos, I see a man who is not as physically attractive as I would like to be.

The life-long battle of being self-conscious is one that will never end. I am constantly fighting these self-image issues and accepting the fact that I am different. Some days I love being different, while other days I wish I had a normal chest and two normal arms. It's a battle that I don't think I'll ever win... but I don't ever plan on losing the battle either.

God tells us in the Bible that although I want to do good and think good thoughts, evil is right there with me. The battle of my flesh is raging with what I know God wants: He wants me to focus on the love that Jesus covers us with...no matter what we look like. My body will eventually waste away and die, and it is what's in my heart and soul that counts. Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ!


Related posts:
I Have Poland Syndrome
My Tattoo
Will My Child Have Poland Syndrome?

Reflecting on God's Faithfulness

I was hunched over, face on the floor, crying out to God. Two and a half months ago, at the beginning of the school year, I was alone. I moved here to Ontario, Oregon, without my wife and son. My evenings were excruciatingly lonely and filling with worries about what the middle schoolers might do to me the following day.

Each night I had to put together sad, pathetic meals with only plastic silverware and paper plates. After living in a comfortable motel for a week with a cozy bed, I moved into an apartment with no furniture and empty cupboards.

I couldn't wait for my family to join me.

Now, after surviving one quarter as a full-time middle school math teacher in the poorest county in Oregon, I can see God's faithfulness. At the time, I felt like I would never get through the stress and pain of being a new teacher in a new school in a small town far away from the city I know so well. I'm currently feeling relief as I am beginning to get into a comfortable rhythm as a teacher. Tonight I ate a warm, delicious meal cooked by my beautiful wife. We have also been crawling around on the floor, playing with my cute son.

Even though life feels much better now, we are still experiencing stress and pain. I still work 65+ hour weeks as a new teacher. It's difficult to keep from thinking about anything other than solving for x and trying to figure out who is throwing the damn paper airplanes in class. I can't spend as much time with my family even when I know that I need to. Life is still really hard right now.

Thankfully, I look back on how God was faithful to me when I was hunched over, alone, crying on the floor of my empty apartment. He brought me my family and a warm meal. And he will do it again. There is a lot to look forward to.

Two Working Parents

"It sucks," says Jen.

"Agreed," I replied.

I was teaching at a middle school as a long-term sub from September to January. Then I took a break (well, it was good timing since my job ended) to spend time with Jen and Nolan. I was a stay-at-home dad when Jen went back to work. And big surprise, on April Fool's Day (no joke), I get a call from the principal at the middle school asking me to finish up for the rest of the year. This is a great opportunity, so I know I should jump at it.

The dillema is... should Jen quit her job and look after Nolan? After much thought, we decided it would be wise for us both to keep working and find someone to watch our boy. We thankfully found a great friend willing to take him on, in addition to her own toddler.

Both of us working, away from Nolan (thankfully only temporary, until June), is one of the hardest things we have ever done. We are both control freaks and having our son in someone else's care (even a trustworthy person) is very hard for us. We honestly don't know how parents leave their kids at daycare without it bothering them.

God is teaching us a lot in this phase of life, and we will appreciate it so much more when we settle into the roles we want to be in: Dad working full-time in a contract job, Mom working full-time at home, and Nolan working on his napping routine rather than a car seat routine. Until then, even though "it sucks", we will take these speed bumps as best we can, praising God for pruning us along the way.

Will My Child Have Poland Syndrome?

What's the number one question people ask when you tell them you are going to have a baby? "Is it a boy or a girl?"

When Jen and I started telling people we were going to have a baby boy, I occasionally heard another question. "Is the baby healthy?"

I started to think about all of the traits that I could possibly pass to my son. Some would be good, and some would be bad. I naturally thought of physical traits first, which led me to wonder... "Could I pass my Poland Syndrome to him? Would he be healthy?"

What does the word "healthy" really mean, anyway? Does it mean that if the baby is healthy, then they won't have to grow up with unnecessary difficulties? And what difficulties might they be? Physical difficulties? Mental difficulties? Emotional difficulties? What about situational or social difficulties?

The reality is that everyone has difficulties in life. Everyone has flaws. Paul said, "for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God," (Rom.3). No one is perfect, and everyone is unhealthy in one way or another.

The Bible says that all children are a blessing! If a baby is born "healthy," then that child is a blessing! If a baby is born with Poland Syndrome, then that child is a blessing! If a baby is born with Down Syndrome, then that child is a blessing! If a baby is born with Tay-Sachs disease and will not likely live long, then that child is still a blessing!

We named our son Nolan, and he ended up being born large for gestational age (LGA). This condition affects about 8% of all births, and it basically means he was a big baby compared to most. It hasn't really been a problem for him (other than having a difficult birth), although some LGA babies have problems regulating their blood sugar, some have jaundice, and some have respiratory distress. We will certainly find many flaws in our son as he grows up. The biggest flaw being sin, of course.

God still works through people, no matter what difficulties they have in their lives. No matter what sin. God takes the crap in our lives and uses it for good. In Romans, Paul continues in the next verse by writing, "and all are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Jesus Christ." He redeems us and can use our imperfect bodies for wonderful things.

Many people with Poland Syndrome worry about passing it on to their children, but since it is a congenital birth defect that is not a genetic disorder, then it scientifically cannot happen. The only way to get the deformity would be by random chance. Nolan does not have Poland Syndrome, and the likelihood of us both having it would be something like 1-in-a-trillion.

Even if our son did have Poland Syndrome, Jen and I wouldn't be worried. What we all really need to be concerned about are the sin problems in our lives. God loves us no matter what our size or shape is, but sin is what He hates. Sin is the only flaw we have that God wants us to change.


Related Posts:

I Have Poland Syndrome

My Tattoo

My Daily Battle With Poland Syndrome

Diaper Love

My son just peed on me. And he didn't even think it was funny!

There is very little interaction between him and I. The majority of the interaction between us is when I change his diaper, when I burp him, when I put him to bed, and when I have him sleep on me.

And what does he do? He stares at the lamp.

There's not much I can do right now regarding being a father, other than being sacrificial. I have to sacrifice my time, my pleasures, and my life to serve him. He can't do it on his own, so that's how I show my love for him. When he gets older, I can show him love through more interesting stuff like teaching him, training him, having conversations with him, guiding him, and leading him to be the man that he ought to be.

So, for now, I'll keep changing his diapers, hoping that one day his conversations will be much more interactive and two-sided as he grows up to be a man that loves God. Lord willing. I pray.