Nate is walking now. And running, and climbing, and jumping, and digging, and hitting the cat and Caleb and our helper, Ibu Lela. He wears this same worn out size 9 months onesie at least twice a week. I'm sick of looking at it, but I don't want to waste the cute clothes on crawling around the driveway, so he just wears this at home. His favorite activity is letting the water run out of the water dispenser. Most days around 6 pm the water is almost gone, and so is my patience! Today I found him lapping the water out of the trough that catches the extra drips, which is completely revolting. Revolting as his drinking habits may be, I still catch my breath when I look at his photos and am reminded how blessed we are to have him. His name means "Given of God" and I think that's pretty perfect for him. At some point in my journey with our pregnancy I stopped listening to God's truth about things and started listening to all those well-meaning voices who asked, "You know how this happens, right?" and said, "Babies are a blessing, but what are you going to do to make sure this doesn't happen again?" And so I started to think that it would have been better if I hadn't gotten pregnant. That maybe this baby wasn't as welcome as the last. But, friends, that was a lie from the devil. And it stole my joy for a bit. But not long, and I'm so thankful that Nate was given of God to me, however overwhelmed I may feel on a lot of days.
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