Lately, I feel like Jesus is standing outside the door of my home.  He's not inside; he's outside.  I don't pray because it doesn't seem like He will answer, but I do pray because deep down I do believe that it makes a difference if I don't.  The unbelief comes because I have been praying for all these weeks for Him to relieve me of my nausea or at least lessen it -- but to no avail.  Daily, I feel beat by my body and all of its limitations.  I dream about shedding this tent and receiving that glorious, resurrected body which Paul speaks of -- one which will not weigh me down nor hinder me from living.  Other women resume life as if life wasn't developing rapidly within their bodies.  They push through whatever sickness they might be feeling and continue their work and exercise and play.  But as for me, it has been like I had to get off the train and sit on the bench and watch the train roar rapidly by.  Real life has come to a screeching halt.  Yet the days seem to blur together with morning sickness lasting 24 hours rather than a few hours before noon and consisting mainly of sleeping, trying to eat something and throwing up.  So it's been hard to keep praying when nothing seems to change.  It's been easy to wonder if God is really there or if He really cares.  And yet I know He does.  I know He's not a God who stands outside my door but stands right here in the middle of my heart.  I just need a reminder of His breath of life upon me.

The other day, I prayed through Psalm 139 with the baby in mind.  In the past, when I have prayed through the psalm, I always marvel at how amazing it is that God created me in my mother's inmost being.  This time, my amazement tripled as I considered the baby in my womb.  I praise God that even before one day of our baby's life has come into being, He already knows them all, and He has ordained each one.  He is knitting our baby together and sees him/her in the secret place.  I can't see anything that's going on inside, but He can!  It's just so amazing to remember how all-knowing God is and be reminded what it means that He is the Creator -- a creator who is loving.

As Sam & I follow along babycenter.com's guide on how the baby is developing week by week, we have learned that even now, everything is already set for the baby -- from the way the baby looks to the baby's gender -- everything is set and just needs to mature as the days go by.  Isn't this what the Bible speaks of when it says that God has ordained it all? 

Yesterday, we got a glimpse of what God is doing.  Here's our little bean:

The arrow is pointing to the head.  Our little baby looks like a cashew right now.  (Sam has a better image for you to compare it with on his xanga.) 

Isn't it amazing?  It's hard to believe that this little cashew is going to turn into a little person!!  I can't stop marveling.

I came across the test as I passed by the the clearance area of Longs Drugs.  How providential.  We had been planning to take the test on Saturday, which was in a few days.  So for $2.21, I could find out whether or not our whole lives were about to be changed completely.  One line meant no, two lines meant yes.

I woke up early the morning of.  I hadn't slept very well that whole night because I kept thinking about how we were going to take the test the next morning.  As I brushed my teeth, Sam began to wake up slowly.  Then when he suddenly remembered, "Oh, the test!" he jumped out of the bed with enthusiasm.  Before we took the test, we prayed, relinquishing the outcome into God's hands, trusting that He knows what's best for us. 

Then we followed the instructions - putting the tester flat on the counter and covering the little window with a piece of paper.  One line meant negative, two lines meant positive.  What if there was only one line?  Though we had tried to not make much of it, the truth was that we had been waiting for 2 weeks.  Two weeks is a long time to wait and wonder, and no matter how much we tried to talk ourselves out of hoping for a two-line outcome, we knew that a great disappointment would totally be inescapable if there was only one. 

After three minutes, we went over to the counter.  As we hovered over the tester, we kept saying, "There's only going to be one line," to convince ourselves and curb the forthcoming disappointment.  Finally, Sam said, "Just do it!"  and I removed the paper from the little window.  There were two lines.  I blinked.  I couldn't believe what I was seeing.  Were there really two lines?  I stared at it.  Yes!  There were two lines.  We looked at each other with surprise and amazement.  We're going to have a baby!