Nicole K. Twedt

Being Brave When Life Is Hard

Christmas 2008

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Originally from December 2008

I’m an odd duck, it’s true.  I look forward to writing our family Christmas letter all year long.  Now that it’s that time of year, however, I’m encountering a case of writer’s block, severe as they come.  Perhaps writer’s block, at least for me, has to due with me being nine months pregnant.  Excuses, excuses.

I’m going to be easy on myself this year and just write a blurb about each of us, oldest to youngest.

Greg: After all most four years of marriage, good ol’ Greg is still my very best friend and the love of my life, no less.  Good thing we still like each other.  We’re on this crazy adventure called marriage for the long haul.  Greg’s generosity and faithfulness blows me away.  I’m learning so much from my husband about patience and gentleness.  I’d like to think he’s learning a lot from me, but it hasn’t been the case this year.  I’m not nice when pregnant.  Don’t hold your breath, but maybe he’ll learn something from me next year.

Greg is frantically working on our house, getting it ready for our new addition.  In the process, he discovered a leaky pipe in our family room.  It’s slowly been leaking ever since the house was built in 1988.  But all’s well that ends well.  We no longer have a 5-foot hole in our wall where a little patching had to happen.  He’s in the process of sanding everything so he can texture and repaint, hopefully before Steven comes.  Also, Greg’s working on making a dream of his come true: remodeling the garage, or as I secretly call it, the man cave.

Nicole: I’m about 38 weeks pregnant and about to pop.  I’ve found this pregnancy to be kinder on my body than my pregnancy with Emily, except for the first twenty weeks which almost did me in.  I identify this time around with women who say they enjoy pregnancy.  No words can possibly describe the wonderment of having a human growing inside me.  I’m in awe daily.  I also spend quite a bit of time mulling over the mystery of the stretch marks, which congregate mostly on my right hip.

I’m seriously freaked out about being pregnant again, even more scared to have another baby.   God gently ministered to my heart through a verse from the prophet Zepaniah (Zeph. 3:17).  I know now, without a doubt, that he is with me in this pregnancy, and will be with me as I take care of a newborn again, even though it scares me out of my ever freaking mind.  Above all, he is mighty to save.  All I have to do is run to his outstretched arms and he will calm my fears.  In fact, he rejoices over me with singing.  I never understood this verse until I was lying on the couch during the first few months of pregnancy, too nauseous to do anything but puke.  God spoke to me through a picture of me rocking Emily as I sang a lullaby.  He spoke to my heart about how this is how he wants to nurture me.  He just wants me to lay everything down at his feet as I come to him.  He will quiet my anxious heart with singing.  Pretty cool, I think.  For those who might say at this point that I’m a bit of a fanatic, I probably am.  But everyone has to have a passion.  I really love the Lord and I’m excited about what he’s doing in my life and in the life of my family.

Emily: Believe it or not, our princess will be two at the end of this month.  Emily comes in two speeds, fast and faster.  Surely her motto is, Why walk if you can run and why run if you can skip or hop? Curious, like her daddy, Emmie likes to discover how things work, loves to color, and really loves the letter O.  Best of all, she loves watching me put my make-up on.  And getting into make-up.  Unless it’s chicken nuggets, meat is avoided at all costs.  Emily hates being alone in her big girl bed, camping, and her brown shoes.  She adores her cousins Brad, Margaux and Greta.  If only cousin Isaac lived closer!  Brad, almost eleven, is Emily’s beloved Bro-Bro, and the apple of her eye.

Just the other day, after several attempts to get Em to put her coat on, I tried reasoning with my almost two-year-old.  I told her that she should want to put the darn coat on because it first belonged to Greta.  Emily loves Greta.  When that didn’t work, I threw it out there that maybe, just maybe, it was once Margaux’s coat.  She really loves Maggie.  Emily scowled, but switched gears and asked if the coat ever belonged to Bro-Bro.  I was tempted to lie right then and there.  But I couldn’t lie to my little girl.  I ended up reminding Emily that her coat used to live at Brad’s house, and that maybe, just maybe, it hung next to his coat at one time or other.  It was good enough for my Emily and she gleefully slipped into the darn coat.  Mama for the win.

Baby-to-be: Steven Thomas is due around the twenty-ninth, right before big sister’s birthday.  Given my limited experience in childbirth, no one is holding their breath for a 2008 baby.  We chose the name Steven after my dad.  And the Stephen in the Bible, a gentle man who was martyred for his faith in the days of the early church.  Interestingly enough, Steven literally means crowned or victorious, which is how my dad’s new life is with Jesus.  His life reminds me of the saints in Hebrews 11 who lived by faith but did not receive their crowns or rewards on earth but in heaven.  Julea, my sister-in-law, gave a verse for little Steven that I’m hanging on to.  “He will be a joy and delight to you, and many will rejoice because of his birth, for he will be great in the sight of the Lord…” (Luke 1:14, 15).  That’s my hope and prayer for our baby boy.

Well, the writing was surprisingly simple and pain-free, once I gave it a shot.  It’s amazing how the words come when I start writing.  I wish it was this easy in college.  Anyway, we three Twedts wish you a blessed celebration of our Savior’s birth.  We’ll be sure to let you know when Steven makes his appearance.

Love,

Greg, Nicole and Emily

P.S.

Steven Thomas Twedt. January 3.  9 pounds, 3 ounces.  21 1/4 inches.

Christmas 2007

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Originally from December 2007

Greetings!  This year was an interesting one for us as first time parents.  We welcomed our baby girl Emily into our family last year, five days after Christmas.  I naively thought motherhood would come naturally to me since I worked with children.  Nothing could have been further from the truth.  There is nothing natural about parenting.  All the same, being a parent is more than profound, far more amazing and life-changing than I thought possible.  Kimmi says mothers walk around with invisible umbilical cords attaching them to their children.  It doesn’t surprise me.  Greg and I love Emily so much it hurts.

Emily is the apple of our eyes.  At eleven months she has seven teeth, white-blonde hair and greenish-blue eyes with little flecks of gold, just like her mama.  The eyes, not lack of teeth.  Her favorite things include singing “Ba-ba” over and over again as we sing Ba Ba Black Sheep, closing her bedroom door, wrestling with daddy, and racing through Grandma and Grandpa’s circular floor plan in a bright pink umbrella stroller pushed by cousins Brad, Margaux and Greta.  Chewing on her hairbrush also makes the list of Baby Emily’s favorites.  She’s a mover and shaker, no doubt about it.  Emily’s name means industrious.  And she is.  She will only sit for two-seconds at a time unless a bottle or Eric Carle’s Brown Bear, Brown Bear is involved.  It seems the only cuddle time we get happens with the bottle is present.  Poor Emily will be at least five before we wean her.

When he isn’t wrestling with his little girl, Greg is busy working for the best employers in town: His dad and Uncle Keith.  Greg keeps busy working on who-knows-what, metal projects of all shapes and sizes for companies in the pacific northwest.  He is involved with a group from church, mostly guys from our Young Marrieds class.  He’s also helping Jim and Eli remodel their home in Edmonds.

It’s been almost an entire year since I quit my teaching job.  I missed teaching at first, but not anymore.  I loved being a preschool and kindergarten teacher but it doesn’t compare with the wonders that come with discovering the world through my own child’s eyes.  I thought I’d get bored at home, but I realize I’m working harder than I’ve ever worked before.  You were right, Julea.  Staying home has given me opportunities to get plugged into MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers), nursery, and a Thursday morning Bible Study at church.  I’m learning about God and how he loves me in new ways.  I was water baptized in October.

This has truly been an exciting year for us as a family of three.  In September we took Emily to Tennessee to meet her Uncle Ben, Auntie Jen, Uncle Marty and cousin Isaac for the first time at Ben and Jennifer’s wedding.  My parents and Uncle Scotty were there too.  We had a fabulous time with family.  And one really interesting night driving through the streets of Tennessee in an attempt to get Emily to sleep in the car.  We finally gave up around 2:30 in the morning and went back to the hotel, vowing never again to vacation with a baby.  We broke our promise and recently booked a trip with Nana and Grandpa Dave for Hawaii in February.  I think we were sidetracked by the remote possibility of a date night in the tropics.  We’ll see how it goes.  Wish us luck.

We hope this year has been a year of hope and joy for you and your family.  As we hold tight to our baby (when she’ll let us), our thoughts turn to another child.  We reflect on the grace of Father God, amazed that his love compelled him to send his most precious son over two thousand years ago, love that reaches down still, to save lives and bless the broken-hearted.  Our prayer for you this Christmas is for you to truly experience the love of Emmanuel, God with us.

Unexpected Love Story

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Originally from February 2011

Photo by Jamez Picard on Unsplash

At a MOPS Christmas meeting I shared an experience my family had in the midst of cancer.  For Valentine’s Day I’m sensing the need to push past all of the sadness and heartache and bring on a good old fashioned, life-is-good, mushy love story.  Who doesn’t enjoy a good love story? It just so happens that I have the perfect one to share.

David came into my life very early on, before I was born actually.  His wife Diana even threw mom a baby shower when she was pregnant with me.  Diana was mom’s best friend and David, a fellow fire fighter like dad, was the most cherished and trusted of dad’s friends.

Sadly, Diana died the same year dad’s cancer returned.  David was widowed and left with 2 young adult sons.

It came to pass that in March of 1996, dad, after battling cancer 6 separate times in 6 years, was really going to die.  Family and close friends were called to his bedside to say good-bye for the last time.  Dad hadn’t spoken much in days.  He had so much morphine pumping through his broken body that when he did talk he spoke mostly as a child, speaking of flying airplanes, something he’d never in his life attempted.  But the afternoon dad spoke to mom for the last time he was fully conscious and very intent on giving her a specific message.  It went something like this:

“We’ve enjoyed over 20 years of married life together and I’ve cherished every moment of them.  It grieves me to think of leaving you behind.  Nothing would make me happier than to know that you are taken care of, that you are happy and that you will love again.”  He went on, “I really can’t think of anyone who I trust my family with more than David Andrews.  When I die I want you to marry Dave.”

Dad’s proclamation was enough to really knock the wind, the socks and just about everything else off and out of my poor mother.  But the good sport that she is, mom didn’t say much.  She gently assured dad of her love for him and that she would be okay.  In the back of her mind she was probably thinking, David Andrews!  He’s Diana’s husband, Ew! Then again, maybe mom didn’t take what he said seriously.

After all, dad had a lot, and I mean a lot, of morphine pumping through his body.

Shortly after midnight on March 6, 1996 Dad began a new life free of pain as he slipped into the presence of our Savior.  I can only imagine his joy.  Mom, Scott, David, grandma and I witnessed the event.  It was the most precious moment of my life, next to my wedding day and the birth of my children, it was also the most tragic.

When you are grieving life seems to stand still, but as much as you’d like to hide under your covers, hold your breath and wait for things to get better or just give up all together, God shows up and reveals a new season.  Winter turned into spring rather quickly the year of dad’s death.  And those spring days found mom and Dave spending a lot of time together, taking long walks strictly as friends, both knowing the tragedy of loosing a spouse.

On one such walk, mom, trying to be funny, gently joked about dad’s last words to her, saying something along the line of “You’ll never guess what Steve said to me when he was on all of the morphine…” She proceeded to tell Dave of dad’s shot as a matchmaker.  Dave didn’t laugh.  Looking into her eyes Dave told mom that at the end of Diana’s life she whispered to her mother-in-law that if anything ever happened to my dad, if the cancer returned and his life ended, she knew that David was to marry my mom.  I don’t know how long it took mom to recover from that one.  What I do know is that something changed that afternoon between mom and Dave, something completely unexpected, something new and very beautiful.

You see, the great love story is that God brings beauty in times of despair.  Just when life seems to end as we know it, he brings something fresh and completely unexpected.  The enemy will try his hardest to tear us apart, hoping that we will be ruined by the trials we face.  But the Bible tells us that God is in control.  “And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them” Romans 8:28.  Not only is he in control, but the Bible tells us in Psalm 56 that God is so near to the broken-hearted that he keeps track of all of their sorrows and actually collects their tears in his bottle.  God was with my family as we said good-bye to dad.  I know this without a doubt.  And although it was completely unexpected and honestly difficult at the time, God was with us when mom said that she loved David and would marry him.  None of this took God by surprise.  He knows the plans He has for us, and they are good plans, safe plans, plans we can trust him with (Jeremiah 29:11).

I promised you a love story.  And what I delivered was probably not the kind of love story you expected, but it was a love story all the same.  I don’t know what your life experiences are. I don’t know what your walk with God is like or what this Valentine’s Day holds for you.  But I do know God, I know him well.  He knows you well. And he wants you to know him well.  Since before time began, he has written a beautiful love story on each of our hearts.  Right now he is speaking to your heart.  If you haven’t already, he longs to help you discover how much he loves you and cares for you even when life isn’t going the way you thought it would go.  I challenge you to open your heart to him.  I promise that you will encounter the greatest adventure of your life and the greatest love story ever experienced.