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Nesting and stretching

Recently, I got the itch to decorate our apartment... and though it is happening in fits and starts, here are some pictures of the progress as well as some baby bump pictures thrown in there:

Me and the baby at... 6 months, I think? Making a mess while cooking. I'm terrible at cleaning up while I cook. I look so small here... and I thought I was huge :p

The Baby's room after we got all the moving boxes emptied and cleared out. It was a guestroom for a while. 

Me and Ashley making a Valance for our balcony window. Also my bump at 7 months, I think.

Joel excited about sewing the very first zig zag stitch on Ashley's new sewing machine. Anything mechanical... and he's all over it before you can say "where's the manual?"

The huge pile of batting for the pillows we made (see below)

Me sewing a pillow, I think... or the valance.

The baby's room after painting. Now we need some baby furniture... anyone have a change table they are dying to get rid of? :)

The pillows -- two finished products. 4 more to go. 

Sadly I haven't done anything this week... we've been cleaning out the office slowly and surely. It is the last room of the apartment and unfortunately where we put everything we didn't know what to do with! We did find a desk on the side of the road that fits perfectly, though... and I couldn't have asked for a better price!! Pictures to come... whenever the office is done. 

I don't have any current bump pictures :P Joel has this thing about taking pictures of yourself in the bathroom mirror. I did it once to show the bump, and he said, "oh, Rachel... don't do that. I'll take your picture..." (problem is we never think of it when he's home). So I won't run into the bathroom and get a picture of it for you. Just trust me, its huge. The doctor changed my due date to May 4th, but then told me that I won't make it that far... so I have more of a due "window" of late April. That means I've got about another 2-3 weeks to go. (Every time I say that I think "and the ___ isn't done yet..." You think 9 months is a long time to finish things, but suddenly you're at 8 and a half...)

The bus? Or the wife? Decisions, decisions

One of the reasons we chose to live (in Westland) where we live is the bus routes. This was a fairly straightforward decision made by the both of us, but the first day on the job Joel took the car in. After wandering around the apartment all day by myself, I realized that if we're near a bus station, Joel should be on the bus! I pled needing to have a car to grocery shop and get to class and so on... but really it was just to beat the feeling of caged whale that would creep up on me all day long. So dear Joel, being the considerate husband he is, agreed to take the bus every morning and walk the rest of the way to work. But about every three days or so... the gentlemanly resolution caves a little and he'll ask me (innocently, usually from the kitchen or while he is int he closet looking for something to wear and I can't see his face) "Are you driving me to work today/tomorrow?" As if this is a regular occurrence. At which point, I think, "we could spend the gas to get him into work, I drive downtown both ways in rush hour, and we pay bus fare to get him home." As you can imagine, it completely defeats the purpose of saving money on the bus. I usually take him. Thus Joel gets to sleep in a half hour, and takes "the wife" to work instead of the dread bus. 

Sometimes, this is not that much of a hardship for me, I just get to class two hours early and have to do something productive instead of sleeping away the morning, which I'm far too apt to do. This is a considerable hardship when I am getting out of bed, but not after I realize how much work I finished once those two hours are up. I have only 12 credits this term, and on Mondays when I leave the house at 9:30am and don't get back till 10:00pm, I wonder if I have over booked myself. But the rest of the week is so relaxed with only two other classes, I wonder if I'll be able to fill the hours with anything productive. 

So what exactly does Joel do? Well, I've been trying to figure that out since he got the job... and I'm still a little confused. But that's ok, because I think Joel is too. (this might take awhile to explain) As far as I can tell, he arrives in the morning to his cubicle on the 12th floor, which is situated one desk away from the window. (For which I would be thankful!) He fires up he two computers (or is it three?), signs into the almighty group chat, and his co-workers and the rest of the company now know he is here and ready for business. For the rest of the day, he answers phone calls and emails from the people on the other side of the wall all the way to Scottsdale, Arizona. Unless of course said callers just walk right to his desk and talk to him. He is part of "the guy" (excuse me...) "THE GUY". Or Quicken Loan's version of "tech support". But don't call it tech support, that's too normal... call it "THE GUY". He gets one of two kinds of questions, the first, which he loves, are the my-computer-went-to-sleep-and-won't-wake-wake-up or I-forgot-my-password-I-made-with-you-yesterday type of questions; or the kind that Joel dreads: the there-is-an-error-labeled-11559900932885763336657-on-my-screen-right-now-and-Bob-millionaire-can't-get-a-mortgage-because-of-it type of questions. Though I doubt Bob would need a mortgage if he was a millionaire, but then again, he should be one if he's applying for such a huge loan! So the banker calls "THE GUY", and Joel answers and has to figure out what error 11559900932885763336657 stands for. 

I love my husband, but I would hate his job. But he seems to like it, so I'll keep cheering him on. Of course, his day is not all that boring, it is broken up by odd Jedi-looking/acting co-workers who were hired for their computer genius and not their wardrobe. How do I know that? Because on day one, Joel went to work in tasteful dress pants, button up, tie and sweater, and someone told him he could wear jeans. The next day, he wore khakis and a sweater, and another person told him he could wear jeans. The next day, he wore jeans and a button up. And so on, until two days ago, I sat down at the breakfast table and looked over -- he was wearing a sweatshirt and old jeans. "Are you allowed to wear that to work?" "yep." He said to his cereal. Thus I conclude that his co-workers were not hired for their fashion sense. They could have been hired for their aim, though... as Joel is regularly hit with whistling Nerf darts. Apparently, Joel doesn't know who is shooting him, as everyone just looks busy when he turns around. If that were me, I would launch a huge game of Cubicle Clue to find out "who done it." But Joel takes it in stride, biding his time and and quietly plotting which Nerf gun to invest in. This along with the scooters, free slushies/popcorn/trail mix/coffee/tea/etc, x-box gaming station, ping pong tables, basketball gym and general atmosphere of Chucky Cheese contributes to an exhausting, but entertaining day for him.  

At some point, I'll fill you in on all the thrilling parts of my own day (laundry, unpacking boxes that I wonder why I packed int he first place, etc), but that will be for another post.

Spider Webs

I think if a blog could collect spider webs, mine would be homey place for a spider. I am glad I do not have to dust the blog either. But I do have to dust my furniture... sigh. That needs to happen some time today!

Tidbits from the Holmes home: We have a home now, an apartment, actually; I'm still pregnant; We don't know the gender, so guess away; Joel is working full time and I dutifully pack his lunch every morning (right before we dash -- or in my case, waddle/flop/moan -- out the door to catch his 7:11am bus to downtown); I'm trying to sort out our apartment between classes (only 12 credits this term); I'm officially a housewife because Joel got a new job the same day I was laid off!

On Sunday evening, our heat went out. I noticed it first because the vent was blowing cold air at me while I slept. Hubby tried fiddling with it, but we were so tired from all the happenings over the weekend, that he gave up and we cuddled under two of our warmest blankets to sleep. I slept just fine because I have a built-in-and-29-weeks-along-and-growing-heater, but Joel didn't. We called them the next day, and since we were out all day, the maintenance men saw my cluttered and dusty apartment. :s My grandma would be appalled. She always said to keep a tidy home and a clean kitchen because if you didn't and the Lord came, people would come into your house later and think you weren't ready to go. Well, we didn't look ready to go, but I suppose it was a good trade-off because the heat was on again when we got home.

Here are some pregnancy pictures that Willow took for us. Colleen did too, but she must not have had any film in the camera because I haven't seen or heard anything about them since... ;) Oh, and this was about 26 weeks, I think, so just add two inches (and a couple pounds) to my stomach in your mind and that is about what I am now.

The bump is very obvious now... the domino's pizza guy congratulated me, so I think I officially "look pregnant".

I'm going to try and post more regularly for the sake of all my long-distance friends. And eventually, I'll want somewhere to brag about our oh-so-cute-and-intelligent baby, so this will work nicely. :)

It seems like coming home

I said I would be gone for a year, but recently, this little corner of cyberspace has been calling me. Tonight, I finally gave in and asked Joel to set up a server in the States so I could read my friend's blogs and see white stone, some plaintive little voice whispered inside. I rarely post... even when China's Great Firewall isn't there to stop me, but I so enjoy this little outlet of creativity when I do. I dearly love to write, and I am very cozy with my little audience that may or may not be reading... because you see, I've discovered that it really doesn't matter. And imagining no one is listening gives me a cricket-like courage to sing as loud as I can until someone hears and I retreat in timidity.

I'm afraid that my time in the spotlight on the other blog has made my cricket legs feel faint. There are too many people reading... too many people to think of, to many people to write to, too many people with so many needs, too many people wanting to know about my odd little life here in the middle of China. He so often reminds me... "let no one despise your age but be ye an example..." "be not dismayed before their faces" "fear God... not man." But I'm afraid my heart is too weak still... so I've hopped home for a quick moment... to post my thoughts about this place that we will soon leave, and hopefully show you, my cricket's audience, what I see in this huge strange world. And maybe you'll forgive my timidity, as He's still working on me.

(This picture was before we knew junior was here with us...I think I was about 5 weeks along :) 

You know what breaks my heart about China? The women. The reams and reams of women that know nothing of God. Yes, I suppose I always pitied them, but now, having been here for a while, it breaks my heart. Do you realize how much knowing God gives us? Not just a fire escape from Hell, not just relief in knowing your destination, not just purpose in life, but depth. "In Thy presence is the fullness of joy." He brings fullness to life that we don't understand fully until we see lives... thousands of them, millions of them... that have no fullness. They have dreams, yes... for a rich (hopefully American) husband, for money, for belongings, for a "Western" life, but never any peace. The women here are beautiful, but empty. They long only for money... for a good marriage, and as the saying goes, "I would rather cry in the back of a BMW than smile on the back of a bike." How thankful I am for my little group of precious kindred spirits, who look to God for their hope. Who, yes, are plagued by their own fears... fears of not "going anywhere in life", of facing of loneliness, or of mundane life filled with house cleaning, children and errands. But these women let their fears be tempered by Him. These are women that constantly look up to Him. Who know beauty, joy and fullness right where they are because of the presence of a Friend and Father that they love. China's poverty is spiritual, not physical. It breaks my heart every day to see it.

China is not physically poor though... not parts of it. This country has cities and skyscrapers and transportation and wealth that we know nothing of in the States. This materialistic world, this mammoth of a nation I have no doubt that they will overtake the US in the future, at the rate they are growing and improving that I have witnessed in my short stay here... and sooner than I ever thought possible. And we, back home, sip our coffee and go on our vacations completely unaware of what is happening just around the globe. Why should this bother me? Since when has economics and politics ever caused me to lose sleep? Not because I think we should be richer or that our country is better, but because... of a simple question that haunts me. What will the world be when its leading power is completely without God as a society? I shudder to think, but I will leave this in His hands, because He sets up nations and brings them down, for they are only dust on the scales. It is very easy for me to feel fear for my little haven of home when I see this huge nation, but one thing I have learned while I am here is that my life, my family, my assembly, are in His hands. My home is in Heaven, no matter what happens to the place I call home on earth. That this nation, and mine are "dust on the scales"... nothing to Him. I've learned to place this fear in His hands, knowing that no matter what comes in my lifetime, He is in complete control and that He has plans for me, "for good and for harm...to give me hope and a future." me and all those who are "called according to His purposes.

If anything, now that I've written a bit of my heart out for you, I would ask you to remember to thank God for your life... for every choosing you, saving you, for giving you hope and future, for showing Himself to you, for giving you a home, family, warmth, love and security... and yes, even for your fears and trials, because without them you would never know what security, peace and His strength really are.  Because there are millions of girls and women over here who know nothing of the beauty of life that He has given you so lavishly.

I've moved for the year

Hi all,
Sorry for not posting this sooner...but now that we'e in China, Joel and I will be blogging together at booksandnoodles.com. Keep reading over there!

Rachel

A sower went out to sow

 We just got back from Toronto three days ago. It was a... how does one describe handling God's things? For one month, God handed us His "to do" list and we busied ourselves with this "important work" for four weeks, only to look back and realize that God was doing the work the whole time and our "work" was only a carefully designed lesson He made just for us. It was a humbling, busy, exhausting, joyful time. So... people inquire, "How was Toronto?" and I smile and say, "Good."

Yesterday, I helped my Mom weed the garden in front of her house. It was a gorgeous day - sunshine, cool breeze, big billowy clouds and moist dark dirt to sink your fingers into. As I sat or knelt over the dark earth, I pondered the weeds I was so ruthlessly uprooting. I watched the crab grass' milky white roots come snaking out of the ground with every harsh pull of my hands, each plant bringing up three others that were secretly connected through a labyrinth of thin delicate white trails a mere inch under the ground. I pulled at the stubborn dandelion stems and listened to their thick strong roots suck and pop in protest when they broke; then they emerged, oozing and bleeding white filmy blood - evidence of more roots beneath that are now marooned in the soil. One sapling was in my path, a young oak tree. The shoot grew bravely erect while the roots grew down from a gently cracked nut still resting near the surface - opened by the fingers of God. The nut and root held on when I yanked out the shoot, stubbornly choosing to die together rather than face separation. There were delicate purple flowers and soft yellow blooms, red stalked ground cover with waxy green leaves - yanked up and left to wilt. How bright the piles of carnage were, all heaped on the sidewalk. Greens, browns, reds, yellows and reds. Which weeds would the chickens eat? Which would be left to decompose only to feed the next generation next year? What made these dear dead plants "weeds"? Why would we not let them grow here too?

I looked over the now naked gardens strewn with the elect - flowers bought in flats and carefully planted, evenly spaced and fed and watered. There they were gasping and small, relieved to be left, to survive. Did I see them stretch? Reaching their tiny leaves up and out, marveling at all the sunshine they could greedily soak in without any choking weeds to stop them. Yes, they would have died soon had I not battled the weeds for them, but were they especially beautiful? Were they a choice plant that we must kill all others to let live? They didn't look particular in any way. Ugly, even, next to the wild beauty of the blooms that I had left dead and dying on the walkway. I watched my Mom sweep up their remains and I went inside, my dirty deed done.

Then the still small voice, the gentle hand that opened the seeds put His finger on my heart; what was God sweeping up in my heart? Suddenly, this garden was my soul. With every yank of my hand, I saw the wound in the soil of my heart. With every heartless pull of my fingers, I felt the fingers of God pulling, ripping, wordlessly destroying the weeds in my life. "Why are they weeds?" I begged. "Why must that one go? Look at it, Lord! I grew it because it was pleasing. It appeased my fears and dulled my senses to Your incessant call. No, Lord not this one - its roots are strong. It defends me from being honest to my husband. No, Lord, look at the blooms, spare the flowers!" I looked over my garden - my soul - heartbroken, for it was almost naked before God. Nothing was left but little shoots of love, reaching thirstily to the Son. Tiny buds of joy, too afraid to bloom for fear of the thorns and thistles - cares of this world. Tendrils of peace, seeking to soothe and cover the soil of my soul but hampered by the strong vines and moss of doubt that choked them out. Other plants were also spared - patience with its strong roots and sure Foundation. The heady aroma of goodness that draws sinners to God. The milky roots of kindness that are for all people. Faithfulness, needed in every garden seeking to please God. Sprays of gentleness, tiny saplings of self-control. These things God spared, and I saw how small and weak they were. How sickly and needy of the Son's rays.

Then I was ashamed at my tears for the weeds. I was ashamed at my lack of faith in knowing what what God was doing - and letting Him do it. I wiped my eyes and saw that God had chosen what was to be in my garden of life, the choice was not mine. I saw my lack of humility, the fertilizer for my soil. Nurturing privately what I thought was good, what I thought was needed and pleasing, I was killing the things that were truly God honoring in my life. As my Maker ripped the weeds from my heart, I screamed and wept for what was lost, for what I needed and what He was failing to provide. Even my prayers were prayed in error because I begged for my "needs" when they were nothing by weeds. It was the storm and trial of His hand, yielding the peaceable fruit of righteousness that my garden was void of. He came with the storm to weed my heart.

"What? shall we receive good at the hand of God, and shall we not receive evil?" 

Job 2:10

"For land that has drunk the rain that often falls on it, and produces a crop useful to those for whose sake it is cultivated, receives a blessing from God. But if it bears thorns and thistles, it is worthless and near to being cursed, and its end is to be burned." 

Hebrews 6:7-8

~~~~~~~~~~

We were accepted to Huazhong University of Science and Technology in Wuhan, China last week. We had all but given up, then we finally heard that not just one, but both of us were accepted. We'll be leaving Aug 26, and we'll be staying until next July. We applied for one term, but were accepted for almost a year. Thank God, the wait is over -- now we have to go half way around the world.