Manna

I haven't blogged in so long that my computer doesn't remember the address in the browser. It's been a little busy around here in sunny LA - I spent three months in hibernation studying for qualifying exams, watched my husband run a marathon in the only torrential downpour that LA has ever experienced, and have been going crazy with my "nesting" instincts. Pregnancy is going by fast, this being the final week of my second trimester. I can't believe that my belly is going to grow even larger than it is now and that this is the final stretch before we get to meet our little girl.

This has proven to be one of the most thrilling and yet totally anxiety-ridden seasons of my life. A few months ago, P lost his job and we were faced with the reality that we are once again in a season of financial strain. Graduating this May will be thrilling and freeing, but is putting me out on the market for a college teaching job that doesn't seem to exist right now. I am for once more qualified than ever to do what I've dreamed of doing - teaching guitar at the college level and having a performing career - and yet the steps to making that a reality sometimes seem so far away.

Some doors are currently closing and some doors are opening. For now, I have a few really great concerts lined up for next season and am trying hard to create more opportunities in that area. I've tried to use every outlet of my current network to find teaching jobs and have gotten a few maybes, a few no's, some complete lack of responses, and have tried to pick myself up after each one and continue to think creatively about my career. But despite all my feminist convictions about balancing a hefty career with impending motherhood, if God says this is a season for me to have the luxury of being home part-time with baby, than I have no reason to doubt that could be the best thing for our family.

I've admired the way that P has made a challenging situation into a time of self-discovery, exploration, and contemplation. It's made us all the more reflective over what is truly important for our child to have in her life. There's a crib in our dining room right now, a sight that the practical, get-it-done side of me thought would be fine, rationalizing it with a good friend and mother of three's humorous words in my head: "Babies don't need their own room. You could put a baby on the floor and it wouldn't know the difference!" But the night I came home and saw P building the crib that we snagged on craigslist, I burst into tears, pained by emotions that I'd never experienced before - the fear of not being able to provide for our child. I realized that this fear was not completely legitimate; I mean, I don't fear not being able to give the baby food, shelter and clothing, but I only fear not being able to give it all the things that our culture says is necessary for our little ones.

Realizing this, I'm trying hard to see past the American need for more stuff and more space, the controlling, materialistic urges and idols that plague American parents and tell us that we absolutely need all these things for such a tiny little person, that if you don't get this thing, then that could happen to your baby, etc. It is ridiculous the way that the baby gear industry instills fear into parents and guilts them into buying more stuff and more expensive stuff. As P reminded me the other day, sometimes God gives us manna, and you get only what you need for the day. But sometimes the baskets of loaves and fishes indeed overflow, and the abundance of his grace showers us. Right now, our manna is more than enough. He has promised us this, and I have no reason to doubt the right provisions will come in time.

So we've decided to name our baby Elisa, which means "God's promise" - a reminder of the necessity of a season in which we are utterly dependent on His provision and promise, and the character we pray that will develop in our daughter as a result of trusting in His promises.