But for the Grace Go I

At the risk of adding to the problem, I have to say a few things about Jon and Kate Gosselin, the unlikely focus of the scrutiny of the world.

I've been bothered by the sick fascination of the media in what might be the demise of their home and marriage. Why, when there are plenty of hollywood stars who don't mind and even expect to have their pictures plastered across every tabloid in America, are two unfortunate parents taking their place?

Everyone is a judge. This blogger subscribes to a different attitude, and I believe it might serve us all to consider this perspective.

What would happen to me, if I were the parent of sextuplets and twins? If I hadn't asked for such a monumental task, hadn't done anything to cause such an unusual twist to my life, but found myself in the midst of the unthinkable with the person I had pledged my life to?

Only a handful of people can claim to know what it's like to be Jon and Kate. And what do we do? Berate them for their choices, slam them for their faults, and kick them when they are down, wagging our fingers at their shameful fall from grace. I can't take that position. Who are we to judge another's life, another's actions, another's sins or mistakes?

They took us into their homes. They allowed us to see them as they are, not hiding anything behind a mask of secrecy. We know Kate is rather uptight and controlling. She's never tried to deny that. She has admitted time and time again that it is something God is working on her to improve. And she HAS improved over the years. She's trying. We know that Jon doesn't like the spotlight. That he feels like he hasn't been able to make his own choices since stardom took over. And who among us would really like to be followed by cameras wherever they go? Isn't rebelling against that a likely response, whether right or wrong? And hasn't he apologized several times for his actions?

They have paid their debt to society and more. What happens now is between Jon Gosselin, Kate Gosselin, their Lord, and their children. It is not my business, it is not your business. We are not owed a peek into their privacy to see how they must resolve their relationship and the remnants of their dignity.

Put yourself in their position. Imagine the heartache of something that is crumbling around you that you thought would last for the rest of your life. Imagine trying to put that back together, piece by agonizing piece, while everyone around you watches and criticizes. Imagine it, and tell them that it is all their fault. We entered a trust with them when we allowed their family to be our entertainment. We have wronged them too. We've contributed, by eating up the frenzy of ridiculous media attention that they never gave permission for. By being entertained by their painful reality. By thinking that any one of us are above them because we could have done it better.

Jesus once told a mob ready to stone a woman who was caught in sin "He who is without sin may cast the first stone." I know that I'm not. There's no way I'm picking up a stone. I have fights with my husband, I have trouble remembering not to take control in our marriage, I don't always make the righteous choice. I'm sure those tendencies would be magnified a hundred fold if I were put in the situation they have been cast into. I only walk this road but for the grace of God. I only stay out of those waters by His grace.

So for Jon and Kate and their beautiful family, I will pray. Because I know that if they were standing here in this room with me, and I asked them what I could do, that's what they would ask for. They certainly wouldn't ask for my opinion, my curiosity, my judgment or my scrutiny.

Pray for them. Don't stop. And don't feed the media attention. Give this family some privacy.

All I Really Need

The words I write tonight do not flow willingly or easily as usual. I like to write about things I've already learned. Things I already know about. Ways I've already seen God work for good.

There's a formidable and unrelenting grip that holds the heart of a mother. God put that tie there on purpose, so that we could protect our little ones. But when anything threatens that child, it can tear a mommy's heart in two.

About a month ago, Noah got a cold. A few days later he got a sore throat and fever. A trip to urgent care revealed he did not have strep. He was sent home "with a virus" that would resolve itself in a few days.

Well, over four weeks later, three excessively enlarged lymph nodes remain. Last week, wanting to get to the bottom of why my little boy can hardly breathe, eat or sleep because of these swollen glands, I took him to the pediatrician's office. The doctor who examined him (not his own doctor) was convinced he had mono. She sent him for a blood test to confirm. The blood test did not confirm. I took him back to see his regular doctor, and to my surprise some words began to come out of her mouth that struck terror into my heart. "I'm going to be very honest with you.... ordering more tests... Atypical lymphocytes... lymphoma... cancer."

Taking a deep breath, I asked if she was just being cautious or if she had reason to suspect the unthinkable. She assured me she was being cautious, but that sometimes lymphoma can present in this manner. She sent us for more blood work and x-rays.

As I held my baby boy in my arms as they tried unsuccessfully to find a vein that would relinquish the needed blood, and as I felt his little body stiffen and heard his cries of pain, I felt a new definition of pain that I have seldom experienced.

When Noah was born, the nurses that assisted raved about how big and strong he was. How they had never seen such a healthy heartbeat, and they cheered as they weighed and measured him. I never expected to face the possibility of him being ill.

Noah's bloodwork and tests all came back negative. I'm not exactly sure what that means. He saw an ENT who called his lymph nodes "impressive" and put him on steroids and antibiotics to try to shrink them down. In two weeks, the verdict will be made on whether a biopsy will be needed.

And so a mother waits. Sometimes scared. Sometimes at peace. During the day, able to put it to the back of her mind as she goes about the busy tasks of a mommy. Here, in the stillness of the midnight hour, shedding tears of concern for her son. And yet I know that in the darkest hours of life, Jesus is able to shine even brighter. In the weakest moments of a parent's journey, there is a strength in knowing that no matter what happens, a child is loved beyond all measure by a Creator.

And so a mother rests on the faith of a love that went the distance. On a Savior who loved enough to die. Who will bear the scars of His devotion for eternity. Surely He is able to hold my Noah in those strong and gentle hands. And though my tears may fall often in the next few days of waiting, I am ever convinced of the love of God. Of His power to overcome the sinful darkness of this world.

Jesus, You are all we really need. Thank you.


In the darkest hour I must face
I’m counting on Your grace to give me all I need
Sunless days and cheerless nights will pass
And work their work at last to form Your joy in me
For when I am weak
I find that You are strong, and

All I really need is Your grace
All I need to know is You are near me
All I need is You
All I really need is Your grace
All I need to know is You are for me
All I need is You
All I need is You

Some may place their hope in feeble men
I can’t do that again, for only You are strong
I will pray to God who lifts my head
To You who came and shed
Your blood for all my wrongs
For when I am weak
I find that You are strong, and

Lord, I know You hear my every sigh
You hear the raven’s cry and give the sparrow food
How much more will You provide in love
For those You bought with blood
and work all things for good
And when I am weak
I find that You are strong, and

Words and music by Mark Altrogge
© 2006 Sovereign Grace Praise

You can download this song for free at http://www.sovereigngracestore.com/ProductInfo.aspx?productid=M4205-00-21

Dear Noah

Dear Noah,

It is safe to say that life changed forever as of September 15, 2005. My little man was born.

I didn't have any proof that you were a boy until 8:36 p.m. when you finally exited the premises and graced the world with your presence. I knew in my heart you would be a boy before you were even conceived. And though I never gave any thought to the name prior to the months before your birth, I knew your name was Noah. Daddy was hesitant, because Daddy likes common names that could not possibly be ridiculed. (Little did he know "Noah" would be in the top 15 of popular names 3 years later!)God had to do some convincing, but Daddy ended up sure that Noah you must be.


Noah means "rest." It seemed appropriate when you spent the first two weeks of your life doing little but sleeping. But now that you are three and 48 pounds of boundless unrelenting energy, it seems a little incongruous.

It's true, you give your mommy little "rest" these days, but still there is something, beneath all those layers of over sized preschooler hyperactivity, in spite of the frequent uncalled for screeches out of nowhere at the dinner table, regardless of the complete absence of volume discretion when you use your voice... that speaks peace to me. Who would think that such a crazy little boy is actually thoughtful, observant, perceptive to the feelings of others, and empathetic beyond his years?

God knew what He was doing when He gently insisted that you be named Noah. And God has a plan for your life. I'm so excited to see what He will do through you to affect the world around you for His glory. I'm so glad that the sleepy 9 1/2 pound, red-headed baby boy I held in my arms one quiet Thursday night 3 1/2 years ago has become the tall, solid red-headed little boy I spend my days with now. I'm glad that you love your sisters. I'm glad that you walk in your Daddy's shadow. I'm glad for your jokes and your deafening belly laugh and your monster sounds and your aptitude for figuring out a problem.

Noah, you bring rest to my soul.

Love,
Mommy