The sound never grows old. A faint, steady rhythm. So tiny, yet so strong. We call him “Chip”, because at one point, baby was the size of a chocolate chip. The name stuck. Now Chip is bigger, and his heart is definitely beating. Life. Hidden and mysterious, but unmistakably there. On Monday I had my first midwife appointment and got to meet Chip in a super special way, as the tears pooled in my eyes and his heartbeat met my ears. Every morning for the past couple of weeks I’ve sighed a great hallelujah that my pants still button. But thirteen weeks into this journey, and it’s time to expand my wardrobe for my expanding wasitline! I’m definitely tired of sweat pants and feeling frumpy.
The second highlight of our week was Tuesday. Hearing a solid “well done” from the kids’ evaluator, marked another year in the books for the Weldon Academy of Natural Studies. We now officially have one 1st grader, one 3rd grader, one 5th grader and two 8th graders. Good thing I’m sitting down right now. It’s been a huge year, full of much learning and growing. We celebrated with lunch at the Green Street Grille. What a HUGE accomplishment! They’re growing up so fast. In fact, the other day Jack asked Betty how old she wants to be when she grows up. She thought for a moment and said, “Seventeen.”
Last month, I had the incredible privilege of flying out to Portland to visit my dear friend, April. We grew up together for a few years in the middle of Africa. Her house was just a shout away. In fact, we would often stand at the bottom of their hill and yell, “Do you have a roll of toilet paper we could borrow?!” Or “Do you have butter?!” You know, the essential things. This is probably one huge reason I love my neighbor, Jen, so much. I don’t think a week goes by without borrowing something from her… and it is often ONE egg, or TWO INCHES of butter, please. Having someone who loves you and doesn’t think any less of you because you fail to figure out just how many eggs you’ll need each week… on a weekly basis… is pretty grand.
April and I have been friends for almost thirty years. I don’t even FEEL like I’m 30 yet, so this is pretty wild for me to comprehend even still. But we have, because Math doesn’t lie, or something like that. She is one of the most genuine people I know. I love her courage and gusto in life. I love that she doesn’t let fear hold her down from following God’s leading. That leading happens to be into the middle of the jungle of Papua, Indonesia. I am so thankful I got to squeeze her and even run a mini “Amazing Race Portland” with her and a friend before she flew back across a HUGE ocean to her home. As we prayed before she dropped me off at the airport, I was absolutely floored by the goodness and grace of God to weave and keep tight the bond of this friendship which has spanned more time and miles than I can comprehend.
As things grow and change in our family, this guy remains constant and steady. 
We have had such fun dreaming together. He is such an encouragement to me every day. I don’t often feel what he sees, but I choose to believe him, because he’s never lied to me yet. We are so excited to see how the Lord is going to work out the details of our future. We sense His stirring in our lives and know He has something amazing in store.
Baby Chip is proof of that.
And a hot mug of tea. 
Matthew comes downstairs, with his slippered feet shuffling across the kitchen to me. By now, everyone has emerged from their beds. 
He gives me a big kiss, which gets a full evaluation by our eager observers. “Eeew! That’s gross!” “Oh, man. They’re kissing on the lips!” “I’m just looking at my plate.” “How do you breathe for that long?!” “Doesn’t your air go into his nose?” Yep. It’s always preeetttty romantic having a running commentary while exchanging a kiss. But that’s okay. I love that he’s not ashamed to show how much he loves me in front of eager eyes.
Grow Old With Me 