Yesterday is history...Tomorrow is a mystery

I think women who are pregnant acquire some kind of crazy intuition about the little ones they carry. Prime example: The night before last, I had these very vivid dreams about being able to see impressions of our daughter's head as if she was already facing downward and ready to emerge. And, as if that wasn't strange enough, I woke up remembering that we had actually held her for a little bit and then decided that she needed to return to my womb in order to become more prepared for her entrance to the world. Now, to compound all of this, I went to a doctor's appointment yesterday. I was thinking it would simply be a usual check in, hear the baby's heart beat, take a urine sample, make sure the vitals are good, and ask where we should call if labor begins unexpectedly. I came to find out, after actually being confused with another Ashley L that was also there for a check-up, that the nurse practitioner would actually also be checking our girl's position that day. I couldn't help but share my dream from the night before, and after a somewhat awkward look from the nurse, she did confirm that the baby is indeed in the head-down position...strange. I asked how they know of course, I'm a skeptic by trade these days, and she told me it was simply from practice and the feel of the baby's forehead. Let's say that I am still skeptical about this whole process, but also quite thrilled that as far as it seems, our little girl is preparing to meet us very soon.

I am noticing now how significantly my writing has deteriorated since college. I remember spending hours correcting papers and working to never split infinitives (yes, that one was intentional). But, nevertheless, I am determined to continue writing and sharing these experiences with whomever deems them worth the read as I have struggled recently to communicate all of the truly unique experiences we have had here.

This nearly marks the two year anniversary of my transition into San Francisco living and what a transition it has been! I really do not think that we have stopped moving since I arrived. Our season of marriage was ridden with the difficulties of adjusting to the reality of living in a city. But, this has since blossomed into a season of great learning and ultimately, pregnancy. I feel like I've been asked to re-tell the story of my first weeks in San Francisco repeatedly throughout the past month...and to be honest, I have looked at this as somewhat of a nuisance because who really wants to relive the memories of assault, the impacts of gang-related violence, and bed-bugs again and again? But, in hindsight, I am beginning to feel like God has given me these opportunities to share about these experiences to remind me of His faithfulness in it all. I guess one could chalk up our desire to stay here and begin to raise a family as stupidity. But, in the end, when I do consider the incredible relationships I've experienced and the many adventures we have stumbled upon here (both physical and intellectual), I can't help but think it has been God's divine intervention that kept us here and allowed us to grow.

Last week I was in Wyoming for an Outdoor Education teacher training program (American Wilderness Leadership School) and during one of the evenings I took a hike with a large portion of the group up the West Ridge. It was a 2 mile hike that went up 1,000 ft from start to finish. The hike itself was empowering and enjoyable as I hiked with two incredible ladies (one of whom battled the growth of scar tissue in her lungs and only six months prior struggled to climb up stairs...what an inspiration!). But, on top of that, I was struck by the beauty of the region as we neared the top of the ridge.

In 2000, the wooded area had been subjected to the effects of a fire which consumed most of the trees in the area. Ten years later, you can still see the charred remains of those trees as the area continues to work toward the restoration of this ecosystem. If you look only at the trees, you could easily become depressed by the seemingly sorry sight that has remained even after so many years - barrenness has overtaken the once lush canopy of the area. But, if you direct your attention downward, you notice the beauty of the undergrowth that has begun to overwhelm the area. Wild flowers, sage brush, and other species have since appeared and with them have brought a variety of communities that indicate the continual rebuilding of these seemingly forsaken ecosystem.

In technical terms, this process is known as secondary succession and occurs when an area begins to grow from the bottom up after the effects of something similar to a wild fire or other "destructive" occurrences. While we can mourn the loss of the beautiful poplars and douglas firs, which remain as only charred stumps, the truth is that the "destruction" has allowed for the renewal of the earth and a thickening of the once hidden undergrowth. Thus, though charred and lifeless as they may appear, the once prominent life-forms in the area have traded their role of statues of beauty for the less appreciated and acclaimed fodder for life to begin anew. Amazing.

Dan always laughs at my attempts to draw connections between experiences in my life and more "natural" occurrences - mainly because these metaphors and similes end up being quite flimsy and imperfect. But, I will draw this connection nevertheless, because it struck me today while writing. I see my life in San Francisco as similar to the secondary growth I witnessed in Wyoming - the trees being the remnants of the strong relationships and beautiful experiences that were challenged and charred by the emotional struggles I met when first arriving here. When looking at these remnants, I am mournful of the loss - missing the comforts and the strength that were so evident in years past. But, these experiences, relationships, and memories, have been poured into the underbrush which has slowly and miraculously formed around the charred remains of the past, providing the strength and life upon which this growth can occur. While not nearly as noticeable or prominent as before, this growth provides the site for another beginning and the continual refinement of this life....

Refinement through fire.