Week 6

So we decided to do the typical weekly preggo pics. This is week 6. Last night Lisa told her mom (an adventure in itself) and besides not wanting her grandkid to be born in another country she was generally excited. Baby Bump says that our little munchkin is .25 inches, the size of a small pea. Gonna be tall like her daddy...=)

Yesterday the first worries and doubts creeped in. I started thinking about how in the world we're gonna pay for this little bump on such a small salary. Trust me, missionaries don't make much money. How am I gonna buy food? Diapers? clothes? Shoes? We went baby shopping and I'm terrified at how much things cost for something so small. $35 for a pair of shoes that fit my big toe?! $90 for a crib blanket set? $350 for a play pen? Good grief! My stuff doesn't cost that much and I'm 20 times her size! Panic set in. I'm gonna have to sell a kidney just to get enough diapers to last a week. I started thinking of things in storage that I could pawn off for a little Gerber money, how much plasma it would take to get some knock-off baby Nikes. Man, I had no idea what I was getting into.

Then I remembered how faithful God is and has been to us. He's always provided and always will provide. His plan is perfect and He'll give us what we need when we need it. That doesn't mean it won't be tight, because trust me, it will be, but He is the best Daddy there is! How can a good father watch his children suffer? Can a loving dad not sacrifice all that he can to supply for his children? Luckily, I was given just such an example. My dad worked long and hard, went without, sacrificed, took the worst cars, worked the extra jobs, etc. in order for my brother and I to have what we needed, do what we wanted, etc. I want to be just like that and I know that if my earthly dad is that good to me, my Heavenly Daddy is a million times better. What do I have to worry about? As much as I want to take care of, love on, and see my little bundle of DNA, my God wants to love on, take care of, and provide for me a bazillion times more. Panic attack averted. Sanity restored.  34 weeks to go, and I'm still resting on cloud nine, though I momentarily sank to cloud 2 1/2.