Color coordinated blessings (random pregnancy memories, part 2)

One of many ugly couches, my lot in life for years to come

Colors have always mattered to me.  Even growing up in the 60's and 70's with green and goldish orange carpet throughout the house, I was accustomed to things matching and being color coordinated.

One of the challenges I faced as a missionary in the early years was the ugly mismatched junky furniture.  My dad, after all, was in the business of selling fine furniture.  Eventually he blessed SIL (the Summer Institute of Linguistics) by providing high quality furniture at his cost for their new offices in Duncanville.  Too bad he couldn't have offered some help with the Wycliffe Courts apartments where Jim and I lived after we vacated the stinky single wide at "Mobil Dorf Park."

Exhibit B:  ugly chair in our rented mobile home

Shag carpet and hideous furniture were the standard.  Though I never said anything, one of my petty concerns was that my first baby would be born without the benefit of a cute nursery.  Our plan was to leave three months after his birth to attend Jungle Camp, then go north for "Partnership Development" (or to raise support), and to be on the mission field before baby's first birthday.  Therefore, why bother with a nursery at all?

The time line was good, and in fact we accomplished it by God's grace and provision, but still I had a nagging unspoken complaint over not having any baby showers or fun baby things.  My private pity party led to a host of other ungodly thoughts, including my besetting sin of over-concern for "what people think."  I struggled with the assumption that no one was sharing my enthusiasm for the upcoming birth because maybe they thought my remarriage was scandalous after my tragic first marriage.

Maybe they thought it was a shot-gun wedding, since I did get pregnant so quickly (though, for the record, Chris was born nine months and twelve days after the wedding!).  Maybe they all thought I was unworthy of a baby shower.  Maybe lots of things.  My hormonally wacky mind conjured many maybes but most likely no one gave any of this a thought.  Back then I felt unloved, and it hurt.

A few short days before I gave birth, the folks at Wycliffe Courts, the apartments we were managing (in exchange for free rent) threw us a surprise shower.  Even though they were all missionaries in training or on furlough, they pooled their money and bought us a baby carrier we needed for Jungle Camp.  One woman gave us a hand-me-down crib which we later hauled to Guatemala and used for three more babies.  The rest of the gifts were used clothing they had collected from the missionary "boutique."

Our sweet neighbors at Wycliffe Courts Apartments

Jim opening the baby "back pack" carrier

Newborn Christopher in the donated crib

The memory of that evening still tugs at my heart.  God showed me that He would provide everything I need, and even some things that I selfishly desire, just to show His love, mercy, and grace.  For His name's sake He blesses me, not for my benefit only.  That night was the beginning of many more years of God using unlikely people in the Body of Christ to bless us.  I learned to let Him use whom He would, and not wonder why people I thought might support in certain ways didn't.  He is the source of every good and perfect gift.

The most amazing thing to me about that baby shower, something only God could coordinate, was that the crib had come with a green gingham bumper pad.  Later my college roommate in Waco hosted a time for us to share our ministry with some mutual friends.  Several people brought baby gifts.  One precious older couple gave me a handmade baby quilt with Christopher's name and birth date embroidered on it.  That quilt was green gingham, just like the bumper pad.

Our few baby things ended up being color coordinated through no effort on my part!

The green gingham baby quilt with Mr. and Mrs. Hopkins

Pennie and me, former college roommates, with our babies