Two and a half weeks

I know when people run a distance race, like a marathon, there is a wall they hit, and get past, and then run till the end. 26.2 miles. The thing I was thinking about today is, they know it is 26.2 miles. If you say to a marathoner something about running 26 miles, especially a new one, my experience is that they are careful to mention the point two miles. It is NOT 26 miles. It is 26.2 miles. That point 2 is significant, because the race is precisely that long. If they train and run expecting to run only 26, they will be bummed out when they have to run another fifth of a mile at the end.

I'm trying to gear up for the end of my race, but I don't know how long it is. It could be soon. My body feels a little different. I've had a number of observers point out how "low" I am or how I've "dropped". And I feel different. My blood pressure is higher, I'm taking a higher dose. My snot is bloody, usually a blood pressure indicator. I feel like emptying my bladder takes some work because the baby seems lower.

But I don't know really. I could go back to the doctor in a few days and still be at 1 and 50. I'm not in labor. I'm sure of that. But I could be soon. I could be tomorrow. Or the next day, or the next week or in 2 and a half weeks. I don't know.

My family and I are gearing up for the unknown end. We are ramping up . . . but it is hard to time the taper when you don't know when or how long the race is.

But here is my other thought tonight: I am really gearing up for a journey. I've been reading The Hobbit and thinking about lembas bread (yes, I know that is in the trilogy and not the hobbit) and working on a song, but now that I'm really working on it, I realize it's going to be some work because I'm drawing on John 15 and Hosea and Song of Solomon "who is this coming up from the wilderness leaning on her Beloved?", and I'm aware that I'm writing this song for the journey ahead.

Bilbo left for his journey without a pocket handkerchief, with only an urgency that he was about to be left behind. He didn't know how long it would be, where exactly he was going, what he would need. Had he known some of the answers, he most certainly would have stayed home, in comfort.

The funny thing about lembas bread was that it had a quality such that, the more it was all you were eating, the more it sustained and satisfied you. Reminds me of manna. Just what you need. Sustaining. Satisfying.

I am setting out on a journey into a kind of wilderness, during which I, like Gomer (Hosea's unfaithful wife) will learn to lean on my Beloved. I will learn to abide in Christ, Who is my strength. When I abide, rest, stay, remain in Him I can do all things. Apart from Him I can do nothing.

The more He is all I have, the more He is all I need. The more I depend on Him, abide in Him, rest in Him, the more I am satisfied in Him.

This whole skirmish, this whole internal wrestling match will be, in the end, not a battle for how much farther until the end of the race, but rather how much longer till the beginning. The journey begins when I receive into my arms my 12th child, and become a mother again, this time of a dozen, many of them small and needy, and I learn to lean on my Beloved.

I have never given birth to a new baby while I've had a 5 month old. I haven't adopted before. I haven't parented a child of a different ethnic background. I've never had a more needy toddler than my 10th is. I've never had a baby with Down syndrome, which my husband and I both believe this child to be. I've never been so needy in my life.

Jesus is lacking nothing, but I must be connected to Him. I must abide. That is how I can get ready for the end of/beginning of this race. And I have GOT to finish this song.