January 2, 2010
I’m moving….
blogwise that is.
(Side note, I’d like to think that my family and I were moving to a beautiful farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, or maybe in the middle of Prince Edward Island with a ton of grass for the little one to run around in, a white country kitchen with a fabulous large white sink and beech wood countertops and large floor to ceiling windows and and and… yeah, I’m disgressing).
So for now, on a micro scale, yeah just web real estate. 
Nothing against wordpress, I just like the creative outlets better over at blogspot.
So please visit me at shimmerandtulle.blogspot.com
No housewarming present necessary!
December 21, 2009
The Non-Entryway…
Ok, so here is the deal. I am an American who when going to people’s houses or having people come over to my house, it’s more likely that this would be something of a front door ordeal. BUT I have married a Canadian, we live in Canada and have been for the four years of our marriage been dealing with how it seems that people are always coming and going through the back door. GRANTED, I don’t even like my little dark corner of a front door and hall, but I just don’t understand why people want to come through the back door and not the formal (often beautified) front door.
So I just sucked it up and made my non-entranceway more glamorous with a little shopping of the house….I think it looks pretty good, eh? Especially now, I am really liking how festive it feels. Ok, so NOW I can see why ppl are coming through the back door…:)
This is a little “cubby-like” space for my son’s coats and shoes…above it is a blackboard where I put tonight’s menu, a scripture verse (of the week) and updates on Eliel — right now, my little 8 month old is sporting 2 bottom teeth and 2 top ones are on the way!
And you can’t really see it here, but in the first picture, on the other side of the door is a wooden American flag plaque given to me by one of my close friends. I get all the time murmurs from my fellow Canadians about having an American flag on the door. My response: “If you don’t want to see the American flag, then come through the front door!” hehe
It’s not working, hasn’t made any difference. I still get the back door trail o’company!
December 20, 2009
a skirt of my very own…
so now with little Eliel into somewhat of a schedule, I am aiming at being more productive, in the kitchen with fab meals, with my enjoyment reading and with crafts. Ideally, I’d like to work on a craft each day. Something. Anything. Just to keep whittling away this huge self-imposed punishment list of crafts….so one project I did today was a skirt for the Christmas tree! I always wanted one and dreamly walk through the stores fascinated with the beauty of the ones calling my name, begging me to take them home….but that all comes to a serious halt when I see the prices!!! And I always think “I can make that”. Well if you are like me, you say that so often that you actually don’t get to anything bc there are so many things you are currently working on….but anyway, without any more delay, here is my “country vintage meets whimsical” Christmas tree skirt….
It’s a teal color with brown polka dots w/a yellow and red stripe ruffle. And I added a little shimmer to it with teal, blue and pink rhinestones. I just love it!
Here is a better look, a closeup.
And if you do a second glance, it looks like Ms. Pacman is in the house…..hehehe (w/my big Apple pushpin holder thingamajig…)
November 9, 2009
I’m mashing the garlic….
what’s this, you ask?…
well, I was trying to cook dinner and little Eliel wanted to be in my company, s0 I brought his swing into the kitchen with me…..well, this was cool with him for about 15 mins. I was almost done when he started fussing. It was one of those moments when my hands were covered in garlic and I couldnt pick him up….so naturally, I started singing to him…”I’m mashing the garlic, momma’s mashing the garlic”…..
Yeah, he was completely amused. Not.
Just thought I would share.
Are there any crazy antics/things like this that you have done to just grab a couple more secs??
November 8, 2009
if weddings are not your thing….a way to keep occupied….
So this is the time in our lives right now where our friends are either getting married or having babies…so last year, we accepted invitations to three weddings. One for Nov 08 and two for June 09…..so I partied and danced like the ballroom dancer I was (am?) at the November wedding, bracing my 5 month pregnant belly and therefore thought nothing of it that we would have to take our newborn son to two summer weddings next year…..
we have learnt our lesson.
The first weekend wedding was in Boston. We live in Canada. And we couldn’t really afford to pay for the 45 min flight (and honestly, who wants to haul ALL of the gear through security and onto the plane….) So, we stubbornly innocently googled the directions and discovered that it was only an 8 hour drive. We thought we were being extra-prepared parents by adding a (whole) 2 extra hours for nursing and changing diapers. Easy peezy right? Um, no.
We stopped every two hours because little Eliel was on that type of feeding schedule at that time and it took about 40 mins each time for the whole process. Then at one of the last “stops”, after successfully changing his wet diaper and proceeding to return to the car, I hear the “booty gurgle”…which meant none other than another diaper change. I go back to the washroom, undo his onesie and see that he’s completely decorated himself. No sweat, I have my trusty diaper bag, filled with all the essentials…right? Um, no.
I had forgotten that I had taken out some things from the diaper bag when looking for something else while in the car. Ooohh..k. But oh look, here is a pair of pants and his little hoodie. So I think to myself: “I will just clean him up, put these clothes on him to take him back to the car and then add the extra layers, namely the onesie. Right? Um, no.
I pull out the wipey-washcloth thingy case, unclasp the latch and pull out a wipe….all with one hand. I am doing great! Fantastic even. Yeah, I am a super-mom. Where is my medal?? Um…..oh no, what did we just realize?! That was the LAST wipe. Terror on my face for um, this math is just not going to add up. The mess that is all over my son’s bum and back (and oh now feet, for he just kicked it!) won’t be cleaned up with just.one.wipe! I catch the glance of another lady in the washroom. Okay, so she looks like a “tough biker chick” who would eat me alive if I asked her to come any closer to my baby’s poopy diaper, but I am desperate and ask: um, maam (is this the right word???) can you um, give me a couple of paper towels please?? I think I noticed somewhat of a grimace and a slant of the eyes, but she grabs a few and practically throws them onto the change table. As if her skin will be damaged by diffusion of baby poop smell.
I clean Eliel up as much as possible which is difficult for he’s on one of those vinyl change pads on a change table so what this means is that for every slight movement he makes, he hears a “shl” sound and this keeps freaking him out, making him jump, which makes the “shl” sound, which freaks him out, making him jump, which makes….get the drift? Eliel got to really give his facial muscles a serious workout: happy, surprised, happy, surprised. It was hilarious.
I successfully finished cleaning him up and wearing only a hoodie and a pair of pants that ended up being too big for him, I took him back to the car and added some more layers.
And about the wedding? Well, after this hour long “visit” at the highway service station, we knew that we would miss the ceremony and decided to not rush it and just be on time for the reception….
Now the second wedding…
So, as I am twirling my “she’s got it under control” medal on my little pinky finger, I feed Eliel in preparation for a half hour ceremony starting at 2:30. We are all good to go, get to the ceremony location early and the little one is s.l.e.e.p. Yes! We take our seats thinking “yeah, this is easy. K, we can have more. No problem”. Um no.
The wedding planner makes an announcement that the bride is running late, so “go outside and enjoy the June weather for about a half hour”. A half hour…?! Um, okay…..And well, this half hour turned into almost 2 hours…and so what happens??? Yeah, you’re onto it.
Finally the wedding planner gives the cue that the wedding will be starting soon and so my son takes that as his cue to start fidgeting…..how did he even hear the cue??? So, down comes the groom, the parents and oh no, the bridal party is coming down individually. As in one-by-one. How big did she say was her bridal party? Fidget, fidget. Shh, shh, son. We stand. I stand gingerly. Dont.wake.the.sleeping.child!
The bride comes through the door and is walking down the aisle. Slowly. Which, yes, as a wedding planner myself, I know she’s supposed to do. Fidget. Squeak. She gets all the way down the aisle and that is when my son takes center stage: waaaaaaa.
As inconspicously as I could, I fly down the aisle, trying to get the heck out of there with a screaming baby. I practically cover his mouth with my hand and feel the insta-guilt. Did I just….yes, I just put my hand over my baby’s mouth. Luckily, the sprint wasn’t too long (and I don’t think anyone noticed!!!) and I go through the doors. I barely sigh my mommy-relief and smile a weak smile to the wedding planner on the other side of the door when I had this sneaky suspicion of the door I just went through. The very.heavy.wooden.door. As in the one that would probably yes, SLAM as it closed. Making this huge ECHO of a noise that just went ALL through the vaulted ceiling during the ceremony. Um, hi, did anyone notice how cute my baby is?? *awkward moment* I glared at the floor, mumble sorry to the wedding planner and tiptoed to the nearest stairs I could find. (Yes, for even my heels were making that ridiculously loud click click….ugh!) Can I NOT be drawing any more attention to myself as the wedding planner w/the crying baby???!!!
So we deal with that situation. My son returns to his content and clean state and we head to the reception…..which again starts about 2 hours later! Can you see where I am going with this? At the reception, during the cocktail hour, he wants to eat. Okay, I feel prepared for this. We get out the nursing blanket and I try to latch him on. But he is having absolutely NOTHING to do with this. As a new mom, I hadn’t the slightest idea that the noise from about 200 ppl at a cocktail hour could be in any way distracting or over-stimulating to him. I thought it would be like white noise. Or that my milk would just solve everything and he wouldn’t care about anything else. How wrong I was? Well, for about 10 mins, I am trying to latch him on while trying to keep the blanket in place, hold a conversation with my table mates and not look flustered. Not only was this ordeal only causing little Eliel to fuss even more (for he wasn’t getting the milk, but not realizing how BIG of a role he was actually playing in this!), but he was sweating, I was sweating and my nice little do’ was turning into a fro from the residual humidity from this little wrestling match. A friend of ours who had a baby about a month before I did, came over to me (Bless her heart!) and asked, “Are you trying to feed him”? WOW. Was it that obvious? I think she came from all the way from the other side of the room! She told me that she found a spot where the babies could be nursed and that she would take me over there now. R.E.L.I.E.F So I head there, husband in tow. Well, she opens the door and it’s a closet. No, I am totally not exaggerating — it fit a chair. So I couldn’t do anything else so I sat on the chair and they closed the door in front of me (literally). My knees touched the door. And I nursed. Heard some noise in my little nursing cave and to my horror, come to realize that this “room” could be accessed by the kitchen and ITS STAFF! It wasn’t fully walled on the back side so ppl could just peer around and over and see me in action. I tried to be as quiet as possible so they wouldn’t even know I was there. Meanwhile, my husband is on the other side of my closet talking to a friend of his, kind of manning the door and making sure no one tries to enter. (I could just see it now, they just open the door and throw their coat in, it landing on me and me not wanting to break Eliel’s latch for fear of him screaming and bringing all the kitchen staff my way!) Oh yeah — this closest was right behind the DJ area so I had to hurry nursing bc once the DJ started the music, this area would be even more loud than just the 200 talking people. So I am sititing there in my little cave, hurry Eliel, shh Eliel, k, hurry little guy……When he was done, we got ready to come out and it just must of looked really funny for out of no where comes a woman and her baby (now doing that “I just filled completely on milk and I am O.U.T look”) who are both completely red in the face bc it was sweltering in that little room….
Does anyone else have any funny nursing stories??? Do tell!
Hi, I’m Charlotte…
yes, and I am caught up in my own web….
It’s so blatantly obvious that I am way too busy. Not only is my baby now 7 months old (yes it *has* been 5 months since I’ve blogged…) but on a daily basis and a more-than-I-am-comfortable-with basis am I missing out on the finer things of life, bc I am just focusing on the “wrong” things. Not that these things that I am spending my time on fully wrong, it’s just I don’t want to pass by my life and not be able to recall…
my son growing up, peach pie, enjoying a bubble bath, laughing (instead of sulking), reading a good book, being rested physically and mentally, getting very connected with God, actually living in the moment (instead of just being present)
Now is the time to refocus….hehe I just realized I am saying/writing this at 12:30am and I am due to be “up” when my son is ready for a feeding in about 2 hours….hmm, now about that rested body….
June 12, 2009
…and then there were 3….
So now that our baby is now 2 months old, I am just getting to the introductory blog-post…..
Introducing Eliel Jadon…he was born on his due date – April 16th, 2009 at 9:57pm. His name is pronounced as such: Eh-lee-el Jay-din. Eliel is a Hebrew name meaning “my God is God” and it can be found numerous times in the Old Testament. Some key Eliel “Bible Characters” — one of David’s Mighty Men, a Temple Musician and a Levite Priest. When googling the name, we discovered that there was a Puerto Rican musician who is known for his reggae music — how funny is that? (I’m Puerto Rican and Damion is Jamaican!). Last, and we didn’t “mean/expect” this to happen” but Eliel is a combination of the “El ” from Ellen and the “iel” from my husband’s middle name, Nathaniel.
So here is his birth story….
Overall, it was an awesome pregnancy —– and though an intense labour, still very quick! Total labour time was a little under 3 hours. It never dawned on me that he would actually arrive on his due date (only 5% of babies are actually born on their due date!), so the night before, I couldn’t sleep due to the nesting factor and his moving around (some pretty serious movements and kicks) and cramps. Going to bed around 4am that morning, I woke up at 7:30am with “cramps” or was it contractions?! Never having known them before, I didn’t know if this was the “real thing” or not. We called the midwives and told them that the contractions were happening 5 mins apart every minute — which is a sign for the midwives to arrive bc that means that labour has started…..But as I was telling them this, the contractions went away. So the midwives said to hold on and just come in at my regularly scheduled 4pm appt that afternoon. At the midwives appt, I had 3 contractions in a row and so the midwives sent me home saying to call when they were 5 mins apart. Well, when we got home (after making a stop at D’s mom’s house), my contractions were 30 seconds apart. Really feeling the need to lay down, I proceeded upstairs and Damion was helping me. However, on the way, I stopped and said, “I’m going to puke. Get a bowl, quick. Real quick”. And Damion, putting his long legs to work, ran to the other side of the house to find a bowl. He said he felt like a hero for he got the biggest bowl we have and ran back and caught me just as I was about to let it rip. That’s love, for he held the bowl and I puked. (Later on, we laughed about it, for he asked, “what did you eat”?, for the vomit was this strange purple-y orange color and I explained the cheese crackers and cranberry juice your mom fed me……anyhow, probably too much information. Moving on. D called the midwife and said what was going on. Her response: “Yeah, I can hear Ellen in the background; I’m on my way”. And so we started to prepare for our home birth!
Within 45 mins, both the midwives and the doula (similar to a midwife) arrived and checked me out. To the midwives surprise, I was almost 9 centimeters dilated….which meant this baby was on his way, NOW! (I had wanted to do a nearly standing/incline position or use the yoga ball as a comfort measure, but upon standing up, this intensified the contraction and I kind of fell backward, the contraction was so strong). So when the midwife arrived, she found me laying perpendicular to the bed and half on/off the ball — Damion and Christina, the doula, had to explain why I was like that! After about 30 mins, my water broke and boy am I glad that this happened at home — for it really was a GUSH of water (I was told about a liter’s worth!). Anyhow, being “new” at all this, when my water broke, I nearly screamed for, to me, it felt like a balloon pop both inside and outside of me and I thought the baby richocheted out. But, nope, it was just the water. At this point, I had been on my side, labouring. So when my “river” broke, it gushed all behind me and up my back. The midwives saw that the waters had meconium (baby’s first bowel movement) and this concerned the midwives because usually babies have this bowel movement after they are delivered, not during or before — which could mean the baby was in distress (a possibility since the labour was progressing so quickly) or that the baby could have already ingested some of it or when labouring, could — all which would obviously, be bad. So, they encouraged me to push. My “energy” for the contractions hadn’t kicked in yet, so the next two attempts weren’t enough to get him out without some serious tears etc. So we made the decision to go to the hospital— however, I was at the peak of my labour and contractions and oh yeah, he was already bearing down and trying to come through. In all honesty, it felt like the biggest poop you EVER had to take! The midwives called the ambulance. The second midwife was giving my information to the operator on the phone. I hadn’t worked with her directly yet so she didn’t know all my information and asked the head midwife “how old I was” in order to answer the operator. The first midwife said “she’s 30”…..you then hear me pipe up and say “one”. The room got quiet and then everyone laughed: at the peak of my labour and contraction, I corrected them that I was 31, not 30…:)
The ambulance arrived in about 2 mins and you know how bomb squads are: how efficient yet how “militaristic” they can be….well, upon their arrival, I was encouraged to try and push once more because it was so close, that there was a chance that I could have the baby in the ambulance (even if the hospital was about 1km/.5 mile away!)….So the room got quiet, I tried to push, and….it wasn’t enough yet. Then, it was like the 3 ambulance ppl were like “GO GO GO”….our house is 2 floors and bc they couldn’t bring the stretcher upstairs…I had to get dressed, go downstairs and on to the stretcher — all in between my 30 second contractions….so I was helped up, and wrapped below with a towel — very toga-like, given flip flops and had to hobble down the stairs, while it felt like I was holding a watermelon between my thighs! Another ER person met me downstairs with my robe and I was escorted outside. Now, outside were 2 ambulances (one for me and potentially one for the baby if he was delivered in the house) with their lights on (drawing ALL the attention in our neighborhood to our house) and also preventing traffic flow on a HIGH TOURIST street/cutthrough — and here I come, with my bottom toga, a meconium/brown stained shirt, flip flops and my pink hearts robe….yeah I was a sight for ppl! So I’m put on the stretcher and put in the ambulance. On the 1 min drive, I had another contraction, but was told to just breathe through them, otherwise the baby could come out.
In the delivery room, the baby was coming pretty quickly. When his head was crowning, I was encouraged to look down, see our baby and touch him — that was interesting….felt both weird, gooey and wonderful all at the same time. With three contractions, his head was through….but I have to stop right there and make a commentary about this “rim of fire” that I experienced. What a feeling! WOWZERS! For those that don’t know what this is, it’s when the biggest part of him – his head – is coming through and it just burns. Here, I think is where my energy came in and with three pushes, his head came through, and then his body. And then there were baby cries in the room. Damion cut the cord and the midwives/doctors suctioned him immediately just in case the whole meconium thing and then brought over our little one. He was definitely a long one (21in)..and his skin color was first blue and then eventually turned a pinky-white……and his hair was black and straight…..While holding Eliel, I delivered the placenta which was weird for it’s like a delivery that you aren’t part of — for it just blops out.
Still, it seems like a surreal experience — we can’t believe this happened a week ago! We go to the hospital and come back with a baby in less than three hours (I spend more time in Walmart shopping the sales..but this was the best deal I ever got!) — the ride home from the hospital, with an infant in the back in the car seat, was just, well…different and surreal. It’s really hard to explain.
The first week, though challenging and very, very new, has been completely amazing. We have definitely fallen in love with this little guy and have had so many laughs already. It’s amazing to see him changing and growing already. We’ve had some challenges already — because of the whole meconium thing, he was very mucus-y and this was affecting his eating. He refused to nurse and I couldn’t ever go to sleep, for what sounded like “potentially life-threatning” chokes, coughs and sounds coming out of my child! At best for nursing, we had to finger feed him: we put our pinky finger (with a little plastic tube attached to a bottle) in his mouth and he’d suck his milk that way. The midwives were great — they came every day trying to help us with nursing, checking on my stitches and checking on Eliel. Because of the nursing issue, he lost about a pound — most babies lose 10% of their weight the first couple of days..but he went down to 7.9lbs from 8.8. (Update: he’s gaining it back…even if I have to feel like a human milk machine for him to do it!)
But it’s all so worth it —- as I said, it’s only been a week, and already, I feel there are so many “moments” that I need to jot down so I don’t ever, ever forget them. Here are some of them:
* How he is starting to grin, just a little on one side
* How he sneezed, having breastmilk come out of his mouth and nose and how it even surprised him
* How he curls up his nose in “infant” boredom
* How he makes his mouth into a little “O” when alert and really interested into something
* How his little feet curl over each other and he gets back into fetal positon
* How it feels when we are skin-to-skin and he is laying on my chest, completely asleep
My, my…there are so many more….we just can’t stop looking at him and loving up on him!
February 19, 2009
Christmas for baby
it was so exciting.
Coming back from an all day tradeshow (read: standing for 8 hours) for my wedding consulting business, my husband and I came home to a package at the front door. Yeah, it was our first gift from the baby registry. Feeling like Christmas all over again, we ripped open the box and it was a Baby Sitter. hehehe, no not a real live one just popping out of the box (it was a big box!) — the pillow that I can, at first use as a nursing pillow and then later little Dot can practice sitting up.
So here is mommy-to-be in action…I’m even using the rocker that we got from Mom.
Look at the no-hands trick I can do!!!
Hmm…possible captions for this…”Really needing a haircut”…or “My new Church hat”….or….what do you think?
So you know what that means right??? Baby Shower is on the way — here is the invite —-
And even though I am an event planner, they (yes, the vague and incriminating, “they” word) aren’t letting me plan my own shower. But they were nice and let me do my invitation!
You know what else that means right —- I am 32 weeks today!!! Wow, 8 months.
And…. I’ve got the swollen feet to prove it…
This is after taking off my shoes…I have little sausage toes and rims around my ankles — do I need to buy new socks?! Sheesh. And yes, that’s dry skin…..stop staring.
Baby Dot is around 3.75lbs and is the size of a jicama. A what?! Pronounced “he-ka-ma”, it’s also called a “Mexican potato, Mexican turnip or Yam Bean — but, it tastes like a pea pod! Go figure! And apparently, it travels — for it’s REALLY popular in Vietnamese dishes. Oh, but besides the root, the veggie is poisonous, especially the seeds, which have been used to poison insects and fish. Okay!
February 11, 2009
50 good deeds
With all the planning and preparation for a wedding, one day rolls into the next and we become consumed with the “schedule”, the “have to-do’s”, the endless little errands…..and it’s just a countdown to the wedding day…
With all the daily responsibilities and long hours at your job, one day rolls into the next and we become consumed with the “schedule”, the “have to-do’s”, the endless little emails…and it’s just a countdown to when you can arrive home….
With all the daily tasks and errands for your home, one day rolls into the next and we become consumed with the “schedule”, the “have to-do’s”, the endless little chores…and it’s just a countdown to when you can plop into bed….
Sorry to sound like a sourpuss, but do you recognize a pattern?
Whether we are a stay at home mom, a working professional or a budding entrepreneur, the day is always filled and busy, yes? And with this, we can often find life going at a pace where we can’t take a moment and do something nice for someone else because we are always just trying to keep our heads above the water.
Recently, I came across this article from Canadian Living and thought “wow, yes, this would be a good thing. A very good thing”. And wouldn’t it be even more special knowing that you as a couple can do something nice for another person, family or group?
I am challenging my own family to get in on this —- and now I am challenging yours….One little “change” that I am making is that I aim to do one a week, not one a day, so feel free to adapt it however you want — the point is that your heart is in the right place and that you bear fruit! Set yourself up for success!
Feel free to post back and let me know how it goes!
February 9, 2009
“Motivate Me Monday” — is it about me or HIM?
I’ve come across a great website Like a Warm Cup of Coffee . There, Sarah Mae has a weekly women’s group called Motivate Me Mondays — where you can post, encourage, be encouraged, bless, be a blessing by answering a spiritually reflecting question. (If you want to join in/get the button, go to her website).
When has there been a time where you felt weak (and maybe your prayers weren’t being answered) but where you saw God ultimately use His strength through your weakness (or maybe you didn’t see it, but you trusted)?
So here is my answer:This question is timely — seems to be in our household a lot this week! And just recently — within this month, I really saw God work and answer a prayer that I had….This is the first winter in our house (we moved a little under a year ago and so hadn’t faced the Ontario weather and subsequent heating bills for a big house for 2 ppl — side note: we were anticipating large family gatherings and making a lot of little babies!) Anyhow, January was cold. Very cold. And I have 50% Caribbean blood — so I am always cold — even in 70 degree weather! So with all the holiday gatherings in November and December and my constant complaining need desire to have the house under my standards of comfort—my husband reluctantly turned the heat therm up a few notches. Well, you know how in January you get the “post-shopping Christmas bill” and if you are in the States, you can start filing your taxes and know how much you owe? Well, we got our post-holiday heating bill for our 2600 sq ft house…and boy was it a shocker! About $400 of a shocker! Well, needless to say, the therm was shut off, the mission was to wear as much clothing as possible, warm our hands by a little portable heater and pretty much stay in one room 7 days a week — barely coming out to make a quick lunch or use the washroom. Well, I was cool with that…. for about a day. Maybe a day and a half. I just couldn’t warm up, couldn’t turn in bed with my flannel pj’s admist the flannel sheets, hated the run to the washroom and feet on cold floors (mind you I am 7 months pregnant, running isn’t really my thing right now) and this definitely caused a lot of probs in the household….
So what I am getting at is this— for weeks I not only complained a lot to my husband but I was constantly praying to God to please hear my prayer and tell us what to do. Is this how you are telling us to move God — because we can’t afford a new furnace to replace our 30 year old one, we can’t really afford to insulate the pipes, we can’t turn up the heat and get another $400 bill…is our time, only a short year later, over and we need to be more prudent and show this by getting a little cozy WARM house…..I was praying to God to please inspire my husband with the right thing to do. Albeit sometimes that prayer came out as “God, he’s both Dutch and Jamaican —-how come the Jamaican side –and the need for warmth — is not coming through!!!”
And do you know what happened? The pastor’s wife called me up one evening and said she had great news to share with me. She said there was a couple at our church (who through it all wanted to remain anonymous) but that they felt God calling them to pay a bill for us. We hadn’t really told anyone about our shocker bill and definitely not the amount so this couple was definitely moved by God. God was using His strength to answer my prayer. They gave the pastor’s wife a lump sum of money that was almost exactly what we needed and we humbly paid our bill. That night, we both were on our knees, crying and praising God for just being so amazing!
To this day, I still am not sure exactly what God meant for us to do — telling us to put money in and fix our heating situation or what. But I did feel a peace and calmness that okay, maybe we are not to move and that God wants to have us here. But bottom line of what I learned: that God loves me and protects me and hears my prayer and that he will use His strength, especially when I am weak and maybe even when I am already starting to doubt.
I am not sure if I answered the MMM question correctly, but I definitely felt compelled to share this story/testimony. What I have realized in posting this is that it’s definitely about HIM, but God is so great that he makes it about me. There are billions and billions of people in this world, yet He heard the prayer of one small, desperate and cold woman.
