And baby makes four!

      June 21st:) Mark your calendars, another little Peck is making its way into the world!
We're so ecstatic to announce this little one, and especially to meet him or her in seven months. This pregnancy has already proved to be radically different than our first, largely because our daughter was a "surprise" pregnancy ten months into our marriage, and this baby came by way of "not not trying".  It reminds me of how long and hard it was for me to process the unexpected shift from our "five-year plan" for children to the "God-Plan" while pregnant with Myla.  Now that I've experienced how fulfilling and worth it every aspect of pregnancy and motherhood is, my perspective has been entirely transformed. But I wrote this entry when I was about 5 months pregnant with Myla. It serves as a good reminder for me as the reality of this new baby begins to hit me:)...

Summer 2012

   Aside from all the more obvious fears that having a child brings to surface- say, how my life, marriage, home, and heart will be rocked forever- I confess that pregnancy has also been terrifying to me on a completely shallow level. Each week I am reminded by books, emails, friends and strangers alike of the toll my unborn daughter may have on my body, both temporarily and permanently.  It doesn't take much talk of stretch marks, weight gain, varicose veins, cellulite, sagging and swelling before I'm frantically strategizing in my mind how to survive 40 weeks without gaining any lbs or lines. But when it comes down to it, I can invest in as much salad, yoga, and cocoa butter as I want, but my body was just not created to survive. Not 40 weeks and not 100 years.

   While my view up until now- and still in my vanity- is that this is a sad, sad truth, God reminded me recently just how beautiful and glorious this reality is when I look at it from His perspective. 2 Corinthians 5 refers to the "tent" we call the body (oh, how no one can relate to this metaphor like a preggo woman!), obvious in its design to be temporary.  In it inhabits my soul, equally as evident in its design to be eternal.  I am a walking juxtaposition, intentionally conflicted to remind me that I am made for a heavenly purpose.  Each fleeting gift God has entrusted to me, including my body, should serve as a tool to share God's goodness and a canvas to display His grace.  I dare presume that Jesus’ feet were dirty and his hands were calloused.  Jesus also didn’t lose sleep counting calories or stressing about GMO’s.  Jesus knew His body was something to be spent, not saved. And with each step He took, He used His temporary home to build up eternal treasure.

   With each day, I can choose to either invest in my body or I can invest with my body. Pregnancy is just one way I can invest my body into something (someone) for His kingdom, but it is a reminder of my design: I am a tent. And the promise of a home Jesus is preparing for me helps me embrace each pound that the scale reflects (Lord, help me mean that), because the miracle of life inside me is far more in line with the purpose eternity commits to me than that of trying to glorify anything from this "camp site".