This morning I went in to check on her. She had been calling out “Dada” over the monitor for a while, but was now quite silent. Sure enough she put herself back to sleep. But as I peered over the crib rail I saw her anew. She’s gotten so big. She’ll always be my baby no matter how many join our family, but she just looks so big. She takes up almost half her crib now. I remember when we could turn her sideways and she would fit in that monstrously HUGE crib. How that crib seemed to swallow her in her first night in the “big bed.” And now she’s so tall and so big.

I told Matt on our drive home from my birthday dinner, “I wonder what our family will be like a year from now.” Crazy to think. And yet so wonderful to think.

We set our ultrasound date for baby2 for February 2nd, in two weeks. So much of baby2 excites me. I wonder who he or she’ll be. I am quite happy to wait until 20 weeks before having an ultrasound. (Rachael had her first ultrasound at 16 weeks and things were a bit small and hard to see.) At 20 weeks I wonder how tiny and yet huge this new little one will be. Coming to this point in the pregnancy is like being on the brink of excitement. We’re hoping to find out if baby’s a boy or a girl, but we already have the names picked out and will be thrilled regardless. The youth have asked me what I think this baby is. I told them I have no idea. It’s funny how a toddler seems to occupy so much of your thought to the point that this pregnancy just hums along. On top of it, who wants to set their hopes up for one over the other only to find disappointment? I’d rather just build all my thinking after findng out and rejoicing either way. But how exciting to be on the brink of baby’s movement and on the brink of seeing our child’s development.

And who says God doesn’t do miracles today?

“My food is to do the will of Him who sent Me and to accomplish His work. Do you not say, ‘There are yet four months, and then comes the harvest?’ Behold, I say to you, lift up your eyes and look on the fields, that they are white for harvest. Already he who reaps is receiving wages and is gathering fruit for life eternal; so that he who sows and he who reaps may rejoice together. For in this case the saying is true, ‘One sows and another reaps.’ I sent you to reap that for which you have not labored; others have labored and you have entered into their labor.” (John 4:34-38).

What kind of legacy are you leaving?

You know I read this passage this morning and something clicked. I’ve heard it recently, nearly a month ago now, and it is still swimming in my mind. Generations of God’s people left generations of legacies. And until we make it personal we leave the labor to another and the harvest to another. I want Rachael and our other children, should God bless us, not to speak of Jesus as impersonal or my faith, but be compelled toward Christ from watching my love for Him. “Let them choose for themselves” is a standard hogwash offered by the community, but I want Rachael to choose the only One that satisfies. I’m not going to force her, but I want my life to compel her, that she would desire nothing else.

So often I find myself feeding along the sidelines of God’s work. That’s so much easier than the hurts of the calloused hands and sore back of the labor and harvest. Oh it’s far easier to watch others labor and critique their labor. But I stand beside my lost neighbors in the long line of wallflowers. It’s easy to plow a little here and there, but then take a break for the sake of eating and drinking and resting. Then I read the above passage. And I ask myself, where is my energy coming from? Where is my supply? Oh even Christ rested, but not during the laboring and harvesting. He was so in step with the Father that He knew the best time to rest and the best time to be alive in work.

And then in my laboring I desire so much to see the harvest instantly. And I find that my motivation is all wrong. Does the seeing really compel my drive to labor? No wonder Christ said, “ye of little faith.”

But instead of his teaching promoting hiding in the back, these realizations compel me to return to the very Discipliner and say, “You’re right, please change me again and again that I may be more useful toward Your Kingdom work.” Who cares what I look like to the world. I’m sure not gaining much approval on my own anyway. And at some point the bench gets quite crowded. So I find myself again, encouraged this morning to labor hard today, not for any glory I may ever see, but for the sake of laboring for the King who drew me to Himself. And oh that the legacy I leave from today might compel another to the throne.

Thank you for the teaching again today, Jesus. May more days come with this laying down and taking up. I love you.