Shout-Out

Today, I had my first dose of being the parent of two children. I'm still reflecting in thankfulness at the  teamwork between Gib and my parents.

Apparently, when you have a little one in the midst of the Christmas holiday, it isn't particularly easy to get a newborn wellness appointment booked with your pediatrician, who has his own holiday plans. And then, when you have a 23-month old who has been sick for more than a week, who needs his own appointment with this same pediatrician, but not an appointment at the same time as your newborn because he has yet to meet his little brother (and that initial meeting is NOT taking place in an exam room!), let's just say that the receptionist/scheduler isn't your biggest fan.

After several phone calls made between the doctor's office and my parents, it worked out and both of my little boys had their time with the doctor.

But, this isn't really a post about the doctor's office, so let me get to the point. To state it succinctly, my parents are saints. Today, they drove an hour and a half each way to get Levi to the doctor. For the past 11 days, they've kept our eldest little dude, with him being sick eight of those days, and as a result, none of them getting much sleep. They made us a roast this week. And, while they got a quick glimpse of our youngest little dude following his arrival, neither of them got to hold him until this week because we all agreed that keeping a sick little boy at their house was probably best.

Mimi and Didi, we are so thankful for you. I honestly don't know what we would have done without you in the last few weeks. Thank you for loving our boys so well and for loving their parents so well, too. As the saying goes, it takes a village to raise a child. I couldn't be more grateful that you are such prominent members of that village.

Introducing...

We are thrilled to announce the arrival of our second precious son, Nathanael Oak! We are joyful beyond measure and have thoroughly enjoyed the last few days spent bonding with this new little life. More details to come, but we couldn't wait to post a few pics!

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas!

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas! I love driving around and seeing Christmas lights on houses and Christmas trees festively decorated, and today it's cold enough to see my breath in the air, which finally means it feels like December!

We've been singing Christmas carols with Levi for the last few weeks, and he knows them well enough  to request them by name. This is the first Christmas that he's realizing something special is happening - he loves Christmas ornaments and lights on trees, our rolls of wrapping paper, his Christmas book about the birth of Jesus, and even the word "Christmas."

I'm beginning to look a bit more like Christmas, too! With my due date just days before the actual holiday, the appearance of my stomach is an excellent indicator that our little Shofar baby's arrival is coming any day!

Christmas is always a fun time of year, but this year, the weeks leading up to it have been particularly enjoyable, as we watch our sweet toddler delight in what's happening around him and as we continue to grow in excitement at the thought of meeting our second child. So, so fun!

Gib's immediate family came to visit this weekend so that we could celebrate an early Christmas together. It was a short trip, but we loved getting to spend time with them, and Levi loved getting to see his Papa, Grandma, Uncle Brian and Aunt Kim. And, he loved getting to open his presents! Here are some snapshots from our Park Family Christmas:

The whole gang

A long-time family friend up-cycled several things to make a tractor/trailer set!

Sharing a snack

Such a fun weekend!

Absence

I realize I've been lacking in my blog updates for the last few weeks. I wish I could say it was because we were off on a tropical adventure. The reality is that in the last month and a half, Gib had an emergency appendectomy, Levi was accidentally hit by a woman on a bicycle outside of our apartment, faced a bout with hand, foot and mouth virus (not a serious virus, but makes for an irritable toddler), sprained an ankle, and currently has the stomach flu.

Hello, adventure! Just not adventure of the tropical vacation kind.

I'm currently less than three weeks from my due date with our sweet little one, and I've been working to finish my research paper for class, get things organized and keep up with my boys!

It's been a bit of a crazy fall, but it's made me even more thankful for our wonderful friends and family, and the fact that I have two incredible guys here with me. Gibster has been taking good care of our family, even during his own recovery, and our little dude keeps us entertained while consistently melting our hearts.

And, we've had some really great moments, along with the less pleasant health issues. Levi loves singing Christmas carols, is learning to count to ten, and continues to amaze us with his memory and vocabulary. He's also become quite the fan taking his Flintstone vitamins.

I took a monthlong challenge of not eating out, and instead cooking every meal for our family. It was hard, especially living in a city that offers many delicious choices that are more convenient than dirtying dishes, but I learned some fun new recipes, and I thoroughly enjoyed knowing that our evenings would be spent together, eating healthy meals. And while we have eaten out since then, the challenge did motivate me to cook a lot more, which I love.

Gib now works one day a week at home, and while he does actually work during the day (truly!), it's nice to have him here for lunch, and Levi loves waking up knowing that his dada is out in the living room. Gib and one of his good friends also just completed an amazing construction project for a new piece of living room furniture for us. I am thoroughly impressed with the end result, and I know they had a lot of fun doing it.

So that's our fall in a nutshell!

Hoping everyone's Thanksgiving was enjoyable and that the remainder of 2012 is memorable in the most wonderful ways!

21 months!

Levi BLAZE!
I had to capitalize your last name because, in the last few days, when we greet you with Levi Blaze, you smile and repeat, "Blaaaaaze." I think you know that you are our little Blazer, full of energy and spunk.

Last week, as we were driving to the zoo, I noticed the signs posted as we neared one of our favorite places: Now entering the Adventure District. I smiled and realized how appropriate that sentiment was for life with you. Every day is a day in our own adventure district, and ooooooh how I wouldn't trade that for anything.

I realized, in going back and reading through some of my old blog post commemorating your monthly birthday milestones, that some of them… ok, many of them… are pretty sappy. I'm laughing now just thinking about that, but the truth is, I can't help it. I am so crazy in love with my little boy that you bring out the gushing adoration in me.

Your dada and I love continuing to watch you come into your own personality. One of my favorite sounds, and it happens a lot, is the sound of your dad laughing. Now, your dad's laugh is one thing I fell in love with in the very beginning, and now, that laugh is often a result of something you've just done. Soaking him during bathtime, squirming while he tries to dress you, or when he's giving you "goosies."

I love the bond that you and your dad share. There's nothing like watching my two boys together. You ask for him throughout the day, and as soon as you hear him come in the door after work, you run to make sure it's him, pause, and then take off toward your room, a mischievous glint in your eye, beckoning him to chase you. He never fails to take off after you, and the two of you laugh and laugh.

You've learned, from an early age, how fun your dad is. I am still learning how creative that man is. Today, for example, you were incredibly frustrated that "pump" (your pumpkin) would not stay on your lawnmower for a ride. It got to the point that I was ready to take the pumpkin outside for a little break, to focus on something else for a while. But as I was finishing up cooking breakfast, I heard the two of you talking about a "belt," and sure enough, I came in to see him taping pumpkin down so that it wouldn't move. You couldn't have been more pleased.

I've come home to find the two of you in a makeshift fort, or walking a newly constructed balance beam from boxes, or just laughing together. Adventure, I tell you. Always adventure.

You've gotten more physically daring in the last few months. It's not uncommon to get some bumps and bruises throughout the day, and this week you've flipped off of the ottoman not once but TWICE. You didn't mean to either time, and I learned a valuable lesson that day, that in the seconds it can take me to cross the room to remove you from your newest launching pad, you can become airborne.

At this stage in life, you are fascinated by the alphabet, and you know at least a dozen letters. I think your Grammy sparked your interest in this with her bath letters, and you love seeing the letters you know out in public. I am constantly amazed that you can point to a menu or a shirt or a book and call out the letters there. And words? Oh, my boy, you are a sponge, soaking up new words every day and repeating them back to us. You know the anatomy of a bicycle (seat, pedal, tire, handle), many of your body parts, animals and their sounds, and the difference between nighties, jeans, pants and shorts. And, you are becoming quite effective at verbally communicating what it is that you are asking for or would like to do, which is so fun.

And, while you are a lover of things physical and fun, you are also my sweet little boy. Sometimes, you reach out and say "hand," indicating you want to hold your momma's hand. Sometimes, you want to be held or rocked. Often, you want to sit in my lap and read or gaze up at me, pointing out my eyes, nose, cheeks, neck. I savor those moments so dearly.

I know this is getting long, and I could keep going. I can't wait to see what the coming months hold for you. We love you so very much!

Love,
Mama

Whirlwind week

I think the reality of the last week is finally starting to sink in. I still have a few precious hours of sleep left before my little dude awakens, but my mind is racing, so here I sit, at the computer before 5 a.m. What a week! What a week it's been.

Looking back, Gibster hadn't felt 100% for almost two weeks, but with previous gallbladder issues, or what we thought were gallbladder issues, that wasn't necessarily a new thing. It was new, however, for the pain to increase to such a level that he couldn't leave the couch for two days, and so a CT scan was ordered for him. The result of that scan would send us to the ER just a few hours later for an appendectomy.

My Gibster? That man is a trooper. So brave, so tough, and so much patience for his wife. You know, the member of our spousal unit who didn't have surgery last week. That wife. You see, when you take a woman pregnant in her third trimester, whose parents happen to leave for vacation the very day of the surgery (as of course they could have no clue this would happen), who's thrown into a logistical battle of mother-of-toddler and wife-of-surgery-patient, it turns out that she isn't as patient or as graceful as she hoped she might be.

Ok, Lord, I thought. My husband is in immense pain, with tubes coming out every which way, who can't sleep, whose body is wracked with chills and then sweats, and yet I'm the one crying. What on earth.

My heart was broken for him, and I wanted to spend every hour of the day with him, but the reality was, I couldn't. There were a few days last week when I got to see my husband for a grand total of an hour because, as you might imagine, a 21-month old little fireball of energy and a hospital room full of tempting knobs and tubes are not compatible for more than 15 minutes. What am I supposed to do, I asked God. How in the world does this work? And in His mercy and love, it was as if He sent a bright beam of light down from heaven to highlight our community, and He sent them into action.

A friend sat with me into the wee hours of the morning as I waited for GP to come out of surgery. Friends didn't hesitate to host my toddler for a slumber party along with their kids, or for play dates at the last minute. Countless texts, phone calls and e-mails were sent to check in on us. Friends sent the most beautiful and delicious box of strawberries. My family sent sweet balloons which, while certainly enjoyed by their intended recipient, have also provided hours of entertainment for his son. Gib's family drove down to take turns sleeping in his hospital room and helping out with his recovery. Friends leaving town offered us their amazing house for the weekend, so that we could spread out a little bit and so Gib didn't have to tackle stairs upon his release from the hospital.

And then there's Ben, who actually took two days off from work to go and sit with Gib in the hospital. When I thanked him, words not even coming close to expressing my gratitude, he simply said, "it's what you do."

God's kindness never ceases to amaze me, but in situations like this, He gives me a fresh reminder of who He is. He is Peace, He is Joy, He is Healer God, He is Provider.

The surgeon expressed that, in his opinion, issues with Gib's appendix had been occurring for some time now. With all of our travel lately, even overseas, and with a baby expected in the next two months, God's timing on this was once again so gracious. He knew that my parents, who would normally be the first to swoop in and take Levi to their house, simplifying so many logistics for me while giving their grandson a peaceful and enjoyable environment, would be gone. He knew what a mess I would be.

And, He knew what an amazing community we have and that they would take care of business. He also knew what an amazing husband I have, and that Gib would, even through this physical ordeal, remain the rock of our family.

One of my dear friends, who possesses more wisdom and encouragement than she'll ever know, prayed over me as we waited for Gib to come out of surgery. She prayed the Peace of Jesus, and also reminded me that peace is in fact a Person. Sweet Jesus. I knew at the time that she was right, but I didn't yet realize the impact of choosing to see Him as such. Whether or not I looked to Him as the Prince of Peace didn't change the reality of who He is. But choosing to look for the peace and kindness of God in every situation, every day, changes things. I can't say I learned that lesson in a particularly graceful or immediate manner this week, but God is a pursuer and a lover of my soul. And that lesson has finally begun to sink in.

This is a long post, I realize, but I just want to say thank you. Thank you, friends and family. Thank you, Gib and Levi and little one. Thank you, God.

Imagine.

Imagine.

Imagine the seediness. The dark corners of the bars, illuminated only by the contrasting harsh, fluorescent lighting in blue, pink, red. The heavy beat of the dance music, thumping in the rhythm of a heartbeat yet without any heart behind it at all.

Imagine the leering eyes of passers-by, sizing up each place, and specifically each woman within that place. Men with wedding rings and men without wedding rings but with tan lines that indicate their presence only moments before devour the scantily clad bodies before them with their eyes in a matter of seconds. Old white men, young white men, middle-age Asian men, and even couples of all ages, scouring each establishment to see which meets their criteria. Pretty enough? Young enough? Easy enough? Cheap enough?

Consider the stares, the judgment of those who've come to see this spectacle without any intent to purchase, whose curiosity fuels the lust behind those looks. The clean-cut teenaged boy staying in a hotel just down the block, who probably told his parents he was running to the 7-11 for a coke, can't help but glance inconspicuously, longingly, as he passes by. Except it isn't inconspicuous at all. Only in his mind and in his conscience.

But this isn't just a place of voyeurism. Imagine the feeling in the pit of the stomach when that old, overweight man with the grabby hands actually comes into the establishment. Or maybe it's the handsome younger man with a steely look that conveys his true heartlessness and the determination to get what he wants on demand. Imagine the internal struggle, the agony on the inside masked by the bright, seductive smile on the outside. The smile is automatic now, no longer having to be prompted by the boss to be more friendly, more seductive, more enticing. That lesson was learned the hard way.

Imagine the thoughts that run through the mind throughout the duration of the drinks, or maybe dinner, through the cheap small talk. What comes next is inevitable, and yet the client has to be placated by feigned interest in his life. The dread only grows stronger as the minutes count down, as the last bites are taken. Yet through the dread, the flirtation and the come-hither eyes are second nature now. The deal must be sealed, after all.

Imagine that you were lured to this city, the promise of a job in retail or a restaurant providing enough motivation to leave your village, your refugee camp, your impoverished life. Parental expectations of financial support for survival, and the weight of responsibility for multiple younger siblings, perhaps made these empty promises seem like the only way to make the family proud. But, shortly after arrival, the realization comes that no such job exists. Physical brokenness awaits at the hands of a cruel new boss, and a new reality begins. Someone's property now, with a transportation debt so high and threats against family back home so convincing that escape seems impossible. Maybe it actually is impossible.

Or, maybe it was a willing choice to be here. In the beginning, at least. Maybe entering this lifestyle happened purposefully, with a steady income to be had and the illusion of finding a wealthy man to marry enough of a mirage to look past the stench of the back room that would become a permanent fixture in life. That man of dreams? Sure, many men have come and gone for the past 15 years, but no marriage proposals. Only business transactions, sometimes resulting in a child that would, out of necessity, go to live with its grandparents. The logistics of life in the red light district aren't exactly conducive to child-rearing.

In the end, the circumstances by which this lifestyle was entered are less important than the now. Now is the reality that one's economical value is determined by client after client, night after night, month after month, year after year. That one's self-worth deteriorates each time her body is exploited, taken advantage of. It's a consumer-driven business and her needs, her protection, her dignity, her dreams… well, they don't exactly count. For the price of a fast-food dinner in the States, she is forced to surrender again, and again, and again, and again. No holidays, no sick days, and certainly no vacation or benefits package.

And while the physical aspects of the job are by no means pleasant, just as ugly are the knowing looks from shopkeepers, tourists, religious organizations. Those looks speak volumes. The clients don't make one feel beautiful or loved or valued in any way, but the pariah status speaks directly to the heart. No value in your life. No purpose, no worth, no hope, no future. Unredeemable trash.

Just imagine.

Friends, this bleak reality is exactly that - a reality for millions of women and children around the world. In Thailand, where prostitution is illegal, the country is estimated to have 2.8 million prostitutes, with 800,000 of those being children. Red light districts appear in every major city, and victims there are forced into slavery… or they entered willingly but are now trapped. These women have captured my heart because they have captured the heart of Jesus. They don't know Him, not yet, but He knows them. He's known them from the beginning of time. He loves them. He weeps with them. He has plans for them, purpose and a future for them. There IS hope for their lives.

Even here, in Oklahoma, prostitution exists and yes, even the trafficking of women and children. How can we attune ourselves to the heartbeat of God for these women? Instead of making snap judgements or jumping to conclusions, we can choose to see them as He does… as beautiful, valuable, fragile. Just as He invited us into community with Him, we can reach out and do the same for these women. And in doing so, we can change the world.