c'est bon.

i had two encounters today that brought to my attention yet again how very blessed i am.

i had two separate conversations with two very different men--one was a big, burly firefighter, bald head and muscular tattooed arms and all. the other was a father of two with a slight build and a lisp.

both adore their kids. both are in the midst of a divorce. both are worried about how their kids will adjust.

both have wives they cherish, who unfortunately appear to be dissatisfied with their chosen path in life.

i only spoke with the firefighter for a few moments, long enough for me to thank him for his service, and for him to pour out his sorrow to me. he has a beautiful 8 year old and a wife that he just wants to be happy and feel fulfilled in life. and it seems that she cannot find that with the two of them. my heart broke a little for this strong, gentle giant of a man who i could see simply desired the best for his wife and son.

she wanted more, or perhaps different.

the other father i have spoken to before. he lives in our development and his kids are buddies with my boy. when we first met him, i knew within a few minutes of looking in his eyes that he was dealing with heartbreak, and didn't know how to move into tomorrow. he shared openly with me, a compassionate stranger, that he and his wife were entering a trial separation, and though he hoped for the best, he feared the worst. now, 6 months later, they are divorced. his children are beautiful and he loves them dearly. and sadly, he now has to sign up for weekends with them.

his wife too wanted something altogether different for herself.

it made me realize how utterly blessed my life is. difficulties, challenges, and all, i would not trade my husband, my sons, my vocation for the world. it's my life. i have chosen this path and within it, i discover contentment.

nothing is perfect this side of eternity. but there is so much beauty before our eyes.

beauty in a wet slobbery kiss from a nearly three year old.

beauty in the goofy grin from a 2 month old who knows he's just overflowed his diaper.

beauty in the shared glance with a husband across a church when you hear that well-known chorus of "old mcdonald had a farm" sung exuberantly during the consecration of the Eucharist.

there is beauty in exhaustion at the end of a long day. there is beauty in forgiveness after an argument. there is beauty in growing from our mistakes, acknowledging our weakness, and entering together into a new tomorrow.

such is marriage. such is family. such is love.

this is my happily ever after. and i thank God every day for it.

of babies and rejuvenation

ah, i know. it's been quite the long time. but i feel somewhat refreshed and rejuvenated, ready to once again lay bear my heart and my journey with Jesus, hoping that some little blessing finds its way to your own heart, dear reader.

so much has changed since june. so. much.

if you were traipsing along with me back then, you know my family suffered a terrible loss in march, and i am so grateful for all the love and support during my miscarriage.

God was so faithful to our family though, and blessed us with another pregnancy shortly afterwards. i'm now 30 weeks pregnant (!!!!) with another little boy. our little daniel is due february 2nd (though this mama's hoping and praying that maybe he'll be enticed into an early appearance in january). regardless, i'm so grateful. it's an unbelievable experience, carrying life in your womb. for those that cannot share in this joy, my heart breaks for you. it's such a tremendous cross to bear. for those that have not yet tasted of motherhood, hold on to your seats, because life is never predictable again.

sometimes, my heart trembles a little at the thought of two. two boys. oh my goodness. what's a mama to do, outnumbered in such a fashion? but my matthew is such a lover, so enthusiastic about life, so ready to taste of all life's joys, how could i not be excited to give him a brother to wrestle and explore and live with. clearly, God knows what he is doing. so i will brace myself and enjoy the ride.

my music is continuing to flourish in his time. i have expanded my ministry to several new churches, both in fort myers and naples. i have also been asked to reprise my role as "baby speaker" for the women of faith, women of action conference next march. i say "baby" because i shared the spotlight with such awesome speakers as colleen carroll campbell and brenda sharman this past february, and will join johnette benkovic and mary jo anderson this coming march. email me (gabriela@gabrielafrei.com) if you'd like more info on this fabulous conference as it progresses. we women need this occasional refreshment. i know i'm so looking forward to it already.

i'm re-learning too, how to balance life as mother and musician. that's been such a theme for this blog, and i seriously thought i had it all under control. all my balls were nicely rotating in midair, and i felt in control and on top of things. then God threw another baby into the mix, and all of a sudden, i felt somewhat precarious in my comfort zone. my hubby has been both my strength and sometimes my voice of reason, helping me through the occasional meltdown when i fear i can't do it all perfectly. and we sure know how gabi loves to do things perfectly.

but God doesn't demand perfection, as we know so well in our heads but grapple so much with in our hearts. at least i do. amazing how much he has taught me about that in this year. i have a lot to share, especially in regards to healing from my loss and moving forward from emptiness into the fullness of his love. i think that might be what i speak about at the conference in march, so i'll use this blog as a sort of dry run to collect and organize my thoughts. (you all should definitely still come though. johnette benkovic + mary jo anderson will be phenomenal!).

thanks for your patience. thanks for your prayers. i am where i am today because of the love and support of so many of you, who held my hand during a difficult time.

At dusk weeping comes for the night;

but at dawn there is rejoicing. (psalm 30:6b)

come along for the ride. the dawn has been marvelous, and it's looking to be a beautiful, beautiful day. 

ps: a taste of pregnant me :)

photo credit: http://pregnancyoutreach.org/

Meditations on Music and Worry-Free Life

I have been pondering two topics today that I would like to blog about. They are not necessarily related, but they have been on my mind lately. Firstly, the tremendous gift we have in music. And secondly, the necessity for peace in our lives.

Become As A Little Child

Incredible, how frequently each day I must sacrifice myself. A few weeks ago, I asked the Lord how I could be a better mother, what I could do to love better, and He said to me, "Little one, every single act you do as a mother is one of selfless love." It overwhelms me, and I fall to my knees and beg for the grace and strength I could never have on my own. My heart simply isn't big enough. But His grace is sufficient and He supplies all we lack.

Today, I endured one of the heartbreaking moments of motherhood. Not my baby bumping his head or falling off the couch (Thank God), but still another source of mommy anxiety (at least for me): baby vaccinations. Matthew is such a champ, and only cries for a little bit, but with every sob my heart aches a little more. 

Now, I did my research for myself, and will not use this blog as a soapbox to iterate the pros/cons of vaccinations. Every mom needs to decide that for herself and for the best good of her little one. I chose to give Matthew his vaccines, and as such have to steel myself every two months for my little one's chubby thighs (oh-so-delicious and squeeze-worthy) to be pricked with needles. I know the benefits are undeniable, but let me tell you, the mama bear in me wants to rip the needles out of that nasty nurse's hands and chase her out of the run for wounding my baby. And while I'm hyperventilating and racing through Hail Mary's ten at a time, Matthew is crying, and then sniffling, and then hiccuping, and then... a smile. All better, Mommy. And I smile back at him through my own tears and aching heart, and say, "My brave boy."

I know now the truth in what my mother always told me, "Gaby, this will hurt me much more than it hurts you..."


And then it struck me: I will bear a heavier cross for having had my little boy, because I will not only bear my own suffering, but that of my beautiful son. He may not be destined to save the world (as was another Son born in Bethlehem). But my Matthew will have his own share of sorrows, and as his mother, I will look on and share all. Sometimes, I'll be able to make it better with a kiss and a Band-Aid. Sometimes, all I will be able to do is cry with him, pray with him, look for meaning with him, suffer with him, and let him


It is the lot of the mother to share burdens beyond her own, and to bear these things in her heart. Am I ready for that, Lord? Only with Your grace, which surpasses understanding. Only then, will my selfish heart be able not only to endure my own suffering, but willing shoulder the sorrow of my children, however small or excruciating. With my own mother as an example, I have witnessed -more so in the past few years, as my mother has become less a authority figure and more a friend- how often a mother must set aside her own trials, to be a source of comfort and wisdom for her little ones. It is a cross added to her cross, but a joyful burden.


My heart aches when my son suffers. My sorrow is inextricably joined to his, and his joy increases mine. I am reminded of how this is an image of what our relationship with God the Father ought in fact be. As His children, His glorification ought be our primary goal and joy, and His suffering ought cause us sorrow. I am learning, little by little, so very much from my new role as mother. I am learning what it means to love unconditionally, what it means to surrender, to trust. I am learning to place all in the hands of my own Father in Heaven, begging for the grace to be what Matthew needs me to be, while growing in my own personhood.


I need to be more like my son. Even as I love him, play with him, teach him, I must never forget that I am called to be more like him - childlike. Trusting that the Lord will never allow me to experience agony without purpose, for my own best good. Resting in His peace, knowing that here alone can I never be harmed. Knowing with absolute certainty that my needs will always be met. For He is my Abba, my Daddy in Heaven. And He will never allow me to suffer without bearing the brunt of it Himself. Maybe someday I'll endure through some suffering without kicking and screaming the whole time. Maybe it'll be me who cries a little, but then clings to the One who is my strength, saying, All better Daddy! And He'll smile lovingly, knowing that it is His grace that carries me through each trial, and say "My brave girl."