Friday, June 16, 2017

Faith

"During difficult times, your natural tendency is to rely heavily on your own understanding. However, your human understanding is not up to this task; it will fail you time and again. You have every reason to be confident in Me. I am the Creator and Sustainer of the universe and I am in charge of every aspect of your life." - Jesus Today

Do I believe that? One thing I've learned about faith without works is that it is in fact dead. Sure, my head knows that it's true but my actions (and let's be honest, most of the time it's my knee-jerk reactions) say something different. Can I say with full faith that even in the difficult times, I am willing to let God be God and rest in knowing He's in control of every aspect of my life? 

If I'm being honest I have to admit this is an ongoing struggle for me. It's at the core of what I wrestle with in my humanity. The battle to release my inhibitions, fears, anxieties, and allow Him complete control. Truthfully, there's a better chance of Him having to pry it from my clinched-fist rather than my willing surrender. Too often I try to run interference thinking He somehow needs my help. If only I would recognize the interference I am to the plan He has. 

We live in a broken world. Our hearts and flesh fail. Period. We can't get around it. People hurt us. Life happens. Disappointments come. Plans change and hopes fail. There are different seasons for everything. Life, love, friendship, jobs, desires... But only ONE remains constant and never faltering and that is the Sovereign God and Creator of us all. He planned each of our days and set us as living stones exactly where He purposes us to be. My response to His will has to be that of genuine faith. Not the kind that requires action but the kind that believes without reservation or inhibition that God is God and that He is working in each and every single aspect of my life. 

Can I do it... Can I have that kind of faith... Even when my heart is aching and the emotional tug of war causes me to be gripped with fears and anxiety... Even when nothing makes sense and things just don't add up... Even when life throws a curveball that takes me out of the game... 

Jesus asks me to lay down my life for His sake (John 13:38). What that tangibly looks like is walking with Him in the day-to-day, moment-by-moment instances that seek to steal my joy and strip me of my faith. Crawling back on the altar over and over again, each and every time I get off. It's choosing to rest in Him even when things around me are completely out of control. It's being confident of the good work He began and trusting He will see it through to completion. Even when it's hard. Even when what is right before me doesn't seem or feel good at all. Even when my human understanding can't make sense of it. 

My faith needs feet firmly planted in the truth that He is in fact in control of every aspect of my life even when the ground beneath me is quaking and crumbling. This is the kind of faith I want, the kind of faith I haven't yet achieved. But when my feet do give way and my faith falls short, I rest on His infallible grace that holds me even still. 

Increase my faith, Lord. Help my unbelief. Help me not be blinded by my circumstances. Give me eyes to see You. 

Saturday, May 20, 2017

Super Mom

Seven days. That's all that's left of the school year. Two of which are early dismissals and the long-awaited, well-earned summer break will be here. At this point we are nearly crawling toward the finish line but we ARE going to get there. 

I wish my son would just buy lunch but instead he requests one packed. We've resorted to the store-bought lunchables and pre-packaged snacks. Not the healthy kind either. We're talking chips and cookies. The elaborate napkin drawings have turned into smiley faces and stick figures (at best) with a "Love you." 

We stopped doing homework 2 weeks ago. It was SOL season so it was what I felt was my due diligence to ensure my child saved up his brain power for school. (Yes, this is the story I'm sticking with because it is how I've convinced myself that we all get a homework pass.) But seriously, if it wasn't already learned previously, why do we think there's going to be anything of grand importance shared the last seven days of school? Shouldn't we just be done with it already?

I admit this regrettable attitude has spilled over into other areas. Home cooked meals? What's that? We've eaten out for 2 solid weeks. We've had birthday's and celebrations and work and an unusually busy season. There's not been time to meal prep and cook but we are all eating. 

Don't worry, though, the house is clean. Oh it's spotless. That's because I'm paying someone to come clean and we're living outside now that it's finally warm. Don't judge me. I'll give you her number if you want. She's life-changing.

I know we should have limits on how much "screen time" the kids get but let's be realistic. If I don't have the energy to pack a lunch or cook a meal, do you really think I'm coming up with creative ideas to keep the kids entertained? Besides, I already told you it's warm outside and that should be all the entertainment we need. Don't get me wrong. I'm going to be right there in the middle of bubbles and sidewalk chalk and pulling them on walks in the wagon. But there are no Pinterest crafts or science experiements happening here. It's outdoors or in front of a screen and that goes for me too. Shameful, I know. 

Seven days. I haven't even thought about the summer goals and projects, let alone sat down to plan our activities and calendar. I'm not quite sure what's happening to me other than I'm just running on fumes at this point. 

In an effort to regroup, I sat down to meal plan for the first time in 3 weeks (right alongside my grocery clicklist order because I'm far too busy/lazy to actually GO grocery shopping). I exclaimed to my husband, "I'm going to be Super Mom this week!"

He didn't miss a beat. "What do you mean, you're GOING to be Super Mom?"

"I'm going to meal plan and prep and cook homemade meals AND desserts!"

Once again right on cue he rebuttled, "That's not what makes a super mom. You're already super." 

He walked out the door before I could argue or ask for more. But the statement left me pondering. 

Could I somehow embody something super without providing for my family in these ways? How am I actually providing for them if not cleaning and cooking and elaborately planning on their behalf? 

The Lord spoke to my heart as clearly as my husband's words had been. 

"Pray for them. Be present. Love. Share Me with them."

It was just last week when I had been riveted by a book that led me to draw up new prayer cards, one for each of my children and my husband. Those prayers and scriptures sparked an inspiration of family guidelines that I believe are to be the guideposts of our home. I don't care if my kids grow up recalling their favorite homemade dish that I made. I'd much rather them talk about the mother who prayed for them daily and covered them in God's Word. Here's the thing. My efforts could all be in vain but His word will never return void so as long as I'm serving them with His Truths, I don't have to worry about what's on the dinner table. 

Just last week we lost power for several hours and ended up receiving the biggest blessing as a family while we gathered around candles and flashlights playing games and reading bible stories. It literally took my breath away to hear my son recount the story by heart and share that he had just read it on his own. Who cares about math when my son is memorizing scripture?! 

I know I could give a little more effort to the cause of homemaking but in my world I preach stick to your strengths so for now I'm going to stick to mine and not pretend to be the super hero of the kitchen and home. Rather I'm going to give my heart and soul to serving my family  with my time and affection. I'm going to pray over them and seek to have God's Presence covering our home. I'd rather focus what little energy I have right now on cultivating the fruit of the Spirit in my life so I can better serve my family. 

So here's to you, Super Mom. Just trying to get through the last few days of school, pulling together last minute meals, spot-cleaning clothes, and making your house a home. Wrap your arms around their necks and cover them in your prayers. Don't be afraid to let your cape fly high as long as you're willing to bend your knees on their behalf. 

Friday, May 12, 2017

Breaking the Silence - Infertility

I first shared this on 5/12/12. I'm updating and modifying this story but still feeling it's relevant to share, especially as we approach Mother's Day this weekend. 

We'll honor mothers everywhere this weekend. If you're at church like me, you'll be asked to stand and be recognized as the congregation will applaud moms. But I'm mindful that a few years ago I was not able to stand, and while I was seated and blending in with the crowd, I was silently dying inside.

Please don't take offense, but when you're dealing with/diagnosed with any type of infertility, it's not usually the kind of thing that makes the prayer list. Over and over on our prayer requests from church we see requests for surgery, illness, cancer, accidents, sometimes even emotional health. But I have yet to see one prayer request come through that calls for the prayer chain to lift up a couple who are struggling with infertility and the desire to get pregnant. (Maybe this is happening elsewhere, and if it is I'm grateful!) But that wasn't a part of my story. Infertility is a lonely, painful struggle. I've walked through it twice with both support and the opposite. I'll share some of that below. 

It's a very private and personal struggle. And when you're in the midst of it, you feel like you have no one - LITERALLY NO ONE - to turn to.

My Story
All I know to do is share my story.

Somehow this idea of becoming a mother pricks the heart of a woman at some point. I wasn't the girl who grew up with this innate desire. In fact, I was rather worried because I didn't share my mom and sister's love and nurturing qualities for children. Even so, after a couple of years the desire came for me too. I wanted to be a mom. I wanted to have a baby. I wanted to raise a child. And so it began...

Even as a teenager I had this "fear" that I wouldn't be able to get pregnant. There were reasons and some medical issues involved that seemed to back this up, so it wasn't completely ungrounded. It started casually. A few months went by, and then I became more intent. Month after month turned up no results so I started to do some reading and research. I charted, I took my temperature everyday before my feet touched the ground, I took over the counter tests, ovulations kits and other predictors, vitamins, exercise and a host of other "natural" things that I will not go into detail here.

What happened as each month turned into another disappointment, was that each day turned into a "number" - I was constantly counting days. It wasn't about what the calendar said the date was, it was about what day of the month it was for me. Every. Single. Month. This would go on for nearly 2 years.

I am going to try to describe this for you. As the days creeped along and approached a "month" cycle, I would wait. I was scouring the internet researching "signs of pregnancy" and I would try to sense any little signal my body might give to indicate that I was pregnant. (Again, not going into detail because you can google this yourself, but suffice to say I had a heightened, maybe even overly stimulated, sense in a desperate attempt to see if I could tell whether or not this would be the time...)

And then it would happen. Every single time. Every single month. I would get the sign. NOT the sign I wanted. The sign that proved yet again I wasn't pregnant.

I can't try to explain the emotions. It consumed me. Literally. NO ONE KNEW. I was always thinking about it. And every time I would think about it, it would turn into anxiety, and then I would try to calm myself because I knew the more I stressed, the less likely it was for me to conceive. I would go from anxiety and stress to excitement and wonder to devastation and heartbreak. And this vicious cycle of emotions accompanied the monthly counting and charting and testing. Over and over.

It was finally time for medical intervention. Testing. Fertility medication. More testing. Uncertainty. And more emotions that usually resulted in more heartache.

All the while, no one knew. Despite living a very public life, this was something I couldn't openly share.

And then it came. The test results and diagnosis that confirmed there was no natural way to conceive in that present situation. Please understand that I choose for this part of the story to remain intentionally vague due to confidential reasons and the fact that it doesn't involve me. I was on the receiving end of the news, yes, but I was not directly impacted physically, only emotionally. The doctor delivered the news as if she was telling me the weather report. It was just she and I in the room, yet again I was feeling all alone, and as matter-of-factly as if it had no impact whatsoever on anyone's future, let alone my entire hopes and dreams. I sat across from her speechless and motionless, waiting for her to give me the "but"... but it never came. So I walked myself out of the office and got in my car...and wept. Yes, this was the ugly cry and rightly so. I couldn't even begin to process what I was feeling and how this changed everything. 

For me in this situation, it took on a whole new meaning of feeling alone and helpless because I felt the need to take on the burden of making it "my" problem. It seemed more "natural" that it would be the female's "fault" but make no mistake, there was no one to blame, it was just certain reality. I had to first get "comfortable" with the news - which was never comfortable. Then I had to get to a point of acceptance of this devastating reality. It had already been a tumultuous two years of loneliness with not much support for my desire coming from my marriage. Now I was trying to triumph a new cause to still see to it that I could become a mother. Just because the doctor's tests said "no" didn't mean my heart heard or accepted that as final. Was there a possibility or surgery, procedures or something else? There was so much to consider. There were no guarantees and no predictions. Just a whole lot of uncertainty and emotional whirlwinds that I was certain I couldn't handle.

Well-Meaning People
As time passed, the questions became more superfluous - when would we be having children? I cringed at the question for a long time, silently hiding any effort of trying to conceive without success. But after the diagnosis it became clear I couldn't hide this anymore. So ... I had to figure out how to tell people. It was like a knife stabbing my heart each and every time some well-meaning person would ask...

"We can't." This answer brought an onslaught of questions I wasn't prepared to handle or answer. So I tried other responses like "We can't have our own children so we're looking at other options." It became apparent people wouldn't be satisfied without details, but it wasn't really their business. And again I felt even more pressure to offer "protection" of those details. Even now it's something I don't and won't share. 

It seemed appalling to me that godly, well-meaning Christian people would say things like "You're just not trusting God, that's why you're not pregnant" or "You must have unconfessed sin in your life". This wasn't some sort of punishment, nor was it a matter of my faith in God. 

Then there were the experts - everyone had a "story to share" and an opinion to add. So and so who adopted and then got pregnant, or so and so who tried infertility and had triplets. Listen, people. Let me get on my soapbox for a minute (it's my blog and I'm allowed). JUST STOP. Be still. Be Silent. Listen. But don't feel like you have to do anything other than pray. STOP THE RIDICULOUS ADVICE!!!! Oh how this has taught me to just be silent and listen. To not offer advice. To just let the person share their heart and their hurt and offer my prayers and nothing more. Please heed this. You don't have to say anything!!! And for goodness sake, PLEASE don't say something STUPID!

I knew all the statistics and stories. I did all the research. I poured over it. I devoured it. I wept. I read. I researched some more. I understood every option and the implications of each. It wasn't for anyone else to decide. AND everyone's story and situation is different.

I remember the person who said to me that I wasn't trusting God...to which I responded, "This has everything to do with my faith in God, but nothing to do with me not trusting Him. Are we so foolish to put God in a box and think He can bless us with a child through only one natural way? I can't wait to see what HIS plan is!"

Here's where I need to speak to those who are NOT going through this. If you know someone who is or has, offer your prayers. Be supportive and encouraging. A listener. But don't ask every month. Don't ask specifics. Don't worry about offering advice. Just pray. We try so hard to fix it and take the pain away from another - I am the biggest offender! But just like the person who can't control their cancer diagnosis, someone dealing with infertility needs to be reminded that God has a plan and He is faithful ... and even more, His plan is not their plan. 

I'm having to unfortunately add that even after experiencing a loss, I dealt with well-meaning but stupid people. Yet again I heard comments of it wasn't God's will. The baby was better off. We were better off because it probably had something wrong with it. It obviously wasn't meant to be so I just needed to move on. How could I grieve something/someone I'd never met? It wasn't like it was a baby I held. People. FOR THE LOVE. Once again I implore you to SHUT YOUR MOUTHS. No one can tell ANYONE how long or how to go through grief. You just can't. I don't care who you are or what you're facing, we will all deal with it differently. SO PRETTY PLEASE JUST STOP! 

I got slammed for sharing our pregnancy news so early. The rationale, of course, that had I just kept it private then I wouldn't have had to go through such a public loss. As I stand before you I can tell you I have absolutely NO regrets. I don't care if you've been pregnant for one day or one year, you were still pregnant. Having now gone through this, I know there is something about knowing there is LIFE inside you that you will grieve as if you had held that life in your arms. I hold to the belief that life begins at conception so the loss for me was still a loss. No matter how "early" I was. 

Grief
This portion has had to change in the past 5 years to reflect the second half of this journey. I'll share the first part then add to it. 

Part 1. Much like a death, I had to let myself experience the emotions of grief. I wasn't grieving the loss of life. I was grieving the death of a dream. My desire was to be pregnant and to give birth to a child that would bear my resemblance and shared DNA. Grief is a process so there were moments of denial where I knew surely if God wanted to do a miracle and prove the doctors wrong, HE COULD! There were emotions of anger and frustration and questions of why and how...none of which I could answer or explain. And just like grieving a death, there are moments you think you're "just fine" and moments when the slightest little thing can trigger the emotions all over again.

Part 2. My miscarriage wasn't just a loss of life. It was also the resurfacing of ALL those emotions and the painstaking journey that had come years before. It was a painful time of wondering where was God and why He would even let me get pregnant in the first place if the baby wasn't going to make it. I wrestled with guilt over what I could have done differently. I struggled with outbursts of tears and torment that I couldn't control. I grieved my baby. The life of my child that would never be. I became nearly obsessed wondering if I would get pregnant again then gripped with fear that I would but couldn't handle another loss. It was tormenting. 

Infertility involves a whirlwind of emotions and it comes in waves. For the person walking through it right now, you have to let yourself feel. Everyone grieves differently. Let them. 

On The Other Side
There was a long conversation I had with another adoptive mom who said to me "When you get on the other side, you'll see how God worked all of this out." Her words were true and I can now say - on the other side - that I do see how God has worked through all of it. But at that time, in that moment, I wasn't on the other side. These words still ring in my ears no matter what someone is going through. I feel strongly that anyone who is or has dealt with infertility, loss, or any piece of it could share her own journey but if she isn't on "the other side" then she is still walking through it. Just like we can't rush the grieving process, we also cannot force someone to get to the other side. Here's why. The other side is ONLY the arrival of one part of the journey that God is continually orchestrating together. Just because I have held two newborn babies in my arms doesn't mean I even have yet to know the full stories of their lives or my role as their mother. It's still being written. 

Just recently I had a conversation with a dear friend who lost her grown son. We talked of the grief that still comes and the wave of emotions that resurface. I shared about the other side with my own addition..."When you get on the other side, you'll see God's plan...but right now you're on THIS SIDE so you have to let yourself feel these emotions and go through this process."

That's what I learned. Yes, there is a plan. Yes, there will be the "other side" ... but for now you have to grow where you're planted. So if you're still on "this side" and not yet privy to the details of the plan and how it all works out, you've got to stay put. You've got to feel to heal. Work through the process and all the emotions. And don't try to rush ahead or jump the fence to the other side. So to say we've arrived "on the other side" is merely a matter of perspective of having walked through a specific part of the journey. 

I will also add that on the other side of divorce and remarriage, with portions of my story revealed, people have also criticized me for wanting to pursue adoption. If I knew my marriage was in trouble why would I have allowed a child to be brought into the situation? I understand. I get the doubts and questions. The only thing I can offer is the reality that even this week as I recounted the story of Elijah's birth and adoption, I cannot for one second think he was placed in the wrong family. I know without a doubt that God chose me to be his advocate, his warrior, the one to cultivate his heart and who God created Him to be. So doubt if you must but please don't question my story just as I won't question yours. 

Hope
Five years ago I wrote this blog because I believe the Lord has not allowed me to walk through this journey without the opportunity to share some piece of hope. The fact that I titled this section "HOPE" and now 5 years later my 1.5 year old daughter bears this as her middle name should tell you about the journey God has had me on. I cannot tell you that I've always held onto well-meaning hope. I cannot tell you that I've counted it all joy. I can tell you, though, that I am here to share this with you so you know there is in fact hope. 

"May the God of HOPE fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with HOPE by the power of the Holy Spirit." Romans 15:13

That verse hangs in Violet Hope's room. It is the very verse from where her middle name came. The word "HOPE" is etched on a tiny piece of rice hanging from my rearview mirror. The day I started miscarrying I had that piece of rice inscribed and clung to it as I waited the tormenting days and weeks hoping and praying for a miracle, only to experience the devastating loss. I didn't lose HOPE because my HOPE is in the Lord. I can tell you that at times the desire of my heart seemed so excruciating that I prayed for God to take it away if it wasn't His will. There were times when I felt hopeless. I cannot and will not sugar coat it. 

Here's the other thing I need to say. What if God hadn't given me a baby? What if I had never gotten pregnant? What if I hadn't experienced a loss? Or pregnancy? What if I'd never become a mother? Would I still have hope? Would I still be able to raise my hands in praise to a good, good Father? I can't answer the what if's. I can only tell you that what I did's. When I was barren, when I was alone, when I was broken, when I was empty-armed, when I was even abandoned as a wife, when I was unloved and unwanted, when I was truly hopeless and helpless, I can honestly tell you I had no one else BUT God. I had no where to turn except toward Him. No one held me in my loneliness except the Lord. That's all I know. 

If you or someone you know is experiencing infertility, I can only offer simple words from a heart that understands. I'm not going to tell you what to do or choose. I'm not going to tell you to just relax or have more faith or trust God's timing. I won't tell you how to respond or how to get through yet another Mother's Day. 

What I have to say is this: First, you're not alone. For anyone who doesn't have someone to talk to or share with, please message me and know I will offer whatever support and prayers I can. Second, if you're able, find a prayer partner or support group whom you can call on as you're dealing with these feelings and the ups and downs. You feel alone but when you can get to a point where you can share, I promise God's people will also receive a blessing in praying with you and believing with you on this journey. I can't tell you how many people count Elijah and Violet as part of their own miracle knowing they played a pivotal praying part in these stories. Third, understand that it is a journey. It's a process. You will experience the emotions in waves. You know the cycle. It comes and goes. Mother's Day will most assuredly be a heart-wrenching day. I know. I've been there. I can now proudly stand and be recognized as a mom but I don't do it without remembering the years when I ached as I sat childless. Feel. It's okay to feel. To hurt and cry. To be upset. (If you're on any kind of fertility treatment, you have an heightened emotional and hormonal state already.) Just don't put it in "park" in any one emotion.

I will say this hoping you hear my heart: turn to the Lord. Because of this private, painful struggle you face, there aren't a lot of people you can turn to. But I can most assuredly tell you it was in this times of desperation and solitude when I truly sought God's face - not His hand - and where I found Him. (Jeremiah 29:13)

I know this post is LONG and won't apply to everyone. But someone needs to read this and if you need me, just know I'm here and I understand.

Thursday, May 11, 2017

For Mother's Day

Portions of this blog are modified from May 8, 2014. 


I get sentimental around this time. It's a divine gift that my little miracle celebrates life
during the same time of year when I get to celebrate becoming a mother. Nine years ago
on Mother's Day I wasn't even aware of him. Yet I was oh-so-aware of the absence of him.
I prepared myself for yet another Sunday when I'd sit in church and all the mothers around
me would stand to be recognized while I would silently sit, hiding my pain and choking back
tears. 

Nine years hasn't been enough time for me to forget the ache I carried of wanting to carry a
child. Even now after carrying my own child, I remember it all. I pray I never forget. May is also 
the month when we should have welcomed another child but that was not God's plan. 
It makes me mindful that every time I see a miracle enter someone's world that someone 
else is still praying and waiting and hoping for theirs. 

I was never good with kids. I wasn't the sister who played school and ultimately grew up to be 
a teacher. I was never happy when my mom required my help with nursery duty, something 
she chose Sunday after Sunday. I was desperately worried that I wouldn't bond with a baby 
I didn't feel kick. I was concerned I wouldn't love a child that bore no resemblance of me. 
None of that mattered. When they placed that tiny baby boy in my arms, I knew instantly 
he was mine. Now having gone through adoption, miscarriage, and delivering my own baby, 
I can assuredly testify there is absolutely no difference in the differing ways I've become a 
mother. My journey to motherhood has been nothing short of the miraculous hand of God 
orchestrating these lives, this family, together; all to give me the title I most proudly wear 
of "mom." But before I bore that title, I wore the one of barren, alone, hurting, aching, 
ashamed, afraid, empty. It doesn't have it's own "title" but it carries a host of emotions 
feelings that feel like the weight of your silent infertile world. 

I will never forget the plaque I bought the day the doctor broke the news.
"However motherhood comes, it is a miracle." I hung it in the room that would later
become Elijah's nursery. I prayed there every morning until he came to occupy it as his room.
Then I prayed there every night as I rocked him to sleep. Now I get the privilege of rocking
another one and I can't help but stand amazed at how God planned it all and put it together.
It certainly isn't how I would have pictured or planned. I wouldn't have chosen the pain and tears
but I wouldn't trade it now for either one of my children and how they came to be mine. 

A baby changes everything. The desire for a baby can too. I don't do anything half-heartedly,
so you better believe I threw every amount of energy, strength, desire, hope and a whole lot
of prayer into the journey of becoming a mother. My journey wasn't easy. So many times I'd
find myself angry or frustrated because yet another person was "accidentally" pregnant or
"surprise, we weren't even trying." How could it be so "easy" for them? How could it be so
difficult for me? 

I've said it before but it bears repeating: I didn't carry him for 9 months but I waited for years
to become a mother. Countless charting and testing. No day on the calendar was sacred.
It all took on new meaning in the journey that consumed my every thought and action.
It happened all over again when Michael and I hoped God would bless us with a baby,
only to receive our miraculous answer and all too soon have the dream come crashing down.
There were even more questions, hurt, tears, and feelings of torment I hadn't ever experienced
before. More waiting and wondering and desperately trying to find my footing on my Faithful
God who had never failed me before but Whom I was certainly having a hard time trusting
especially with this. 

I've sat across the table from far too many women crying tears of barrenness, praying for
God to grant their request. I've seen miracles through adoption, fertility treatments, and
pure acts of God defying all diagnoses. Truly, however motherhood comes it is a miracle. 

My miracles are no different, and if you're still waiting, hoping and praying, yours will surely
be nothing less. 

Today there are some missing their mothers. I think about my Nanny and how much she
would adore her growing great grandchildren. I think about all she's missing here only to
be reminded that really it's just us missing her here. She would have loved to be a part of
our lives still, and yet she's experiencing the purest joy of eternal life. 

Today there are some mourning the loss of children they never met. Babies gone before
ever breathing their first breath. The bittersweet hope of what never came to be.
We have our own little one we'll meet one day in eternity.

Today there are those still grieved with empty arms and wombs. I pray for their comfort
and peace. I pray for a loving Father to wrap His arms around them even as they seem to
hopelessly wait. 

Today there are others finally holding the miracle they've waited and prayed for, even though
it didn't come they way they may have planned, today is a day of rejoicing in finally
understanding the fruition of God's Sovereign plan. Even on the days when I question
whether or not I have the strength and grace to parent despite the challenges I don't think
I'm equipped to handle, I know this is what God planned for me. It's an amazing fact
whenever I feel less than capable because I can know with certainty that no one other than
God Himself could have put this all together. It is that very thought that gives me the strength
and grace to make it.

However motherhood comes, it is a miracle. However you're celebrating this weekend,
maybe with joy, tears, or a mixture of both, I pray you'll not let this day dictate who you
are as His daughter and His child. Whatever title you do or don't bear, you are His and His
perfect plan for your life is still being worked out. Even as you wait, even as you grieve,
even as you rejoice, He is working out your miracle. I pray you'll have His grace and strength
today, whatever you may be feeling or facing. I pray you'll embrace his understanding
even though it might not make sense right now. I pray you'll experience the joys of Mother's
Day even though this day may still bring so much pain. 

Happy Mother's Day

Thursday, April 27, 2017

Today

We had such an enjoyable morning. A full blown dance party before school, watching my children play and interact with each other with smiles and shrieks of sheer joy, I couldn't help but join them. Never mind it's a tragic sight to watch me dance. It didn't matter. It would have been more of a tragedy to not participate. I felt as young and carefree as them ... except for the cracking in my knees every time I jumped up and down.

The sun was shining after days of rain and we were enjoying the warmth of what 60 degrees could feel like on a spring morning. It beckoned us outside where we forgot about the pollen choking our throats. I wasn't watching my watch or barking out orders to keep us on schedule. I was simply living in the moment and delighting in the thrill of their joy. Their smiles were contagious, their laughs infectious. Their love for each other was flooding my soul as I watched in wonder. Witnessing the freedom in their play and the full surrender of their ability to just be allowed the normal hustle to be forgotten.

It's amazing what you can learn from a child. All the while you're the one meant to be teaching them. Yet I couldn't help but watch in wonder as my own eyes were enlightened from the lesson playing out before me.

Today wasn't about schedules or places to be or commitments needing to be kept. Today was about being a steward of the opportunity before me to savor every drop of carefree youth as I soaked up their enthusiasm. Today was about learning to experience joy in the simple pleasures of life as we picked up rocks, plucked weeds, and let the spring morning breeze brush across our faces. My hands were dirty from the mud and I didn't care. Make no mistake - I am not a "get your hands dirty" kind of girl but today I was because today I was digging in the mud with my kids who were exploring the bugs and slugs from the days of rain. Today was about letting them make a mess and dig in the dirt even though their clothes were clean and we didn't have time to change. Today was about releasing all inhibitions while throwing our hands up in the air as we let our bodies move to the beat. It was about learning to lay down the desire to "capture" the moment and live in it instead.

Today was a day I won't soon forget as I got to experience the rewards of motherhood in all its glory. I'm learning about the ministry of motherhood and the lessons I can learn from ministering to my children as they minister to my soul.

Sunday, April 16, 2017

Missing Easter

It was a vacation to remember! There are simply no regrets (other than maybe how many calories were consumed) but we couldn't have asked for a better week. And then it happened.

As we were making the long trek home, I was bored and scrolling through feeds only to be bombarded with pictures of families surrounded by colored eggs, children running through fields gathering up eggs, baskets overflowing with gifts and candy, and smiling faces posed with the Easter Bunny. I started to feel sad because we hadn't done Easter "stuff." There were no hunts, we didn't color eggs, we didn't do Bunny pictures and there weren't even Easter baskets. I had spent so much time planning for vacation and making sure we had a chance to celebrate my husband's birthday that we missed all the Easter festivities. I wasn't jealous of others' pictures but I was feeling like we had missed out on celebrating Easter. Then I started to feel even more remorse about my pity party realizing I had truly missed the celebration of Christ's sacrifice and resurrection. This wasn't about baskets and eggs. This was about so much more and I was suddenly faced with the fact that I still had time to celebrate.

I was thankful we were home in time to attend church and worship on Resurrection Sunday. Even as I sat in service I was feeling like I had somehow missed it, like my heart just hadn't been prepared to celebrate. And there it was. The message entitled 'Don't Miss Easter.' Surely this one was a special delivery just for me. This wasn't about empty baskets or stark white eggs. This wasn't even about being in church on Easter. This was about my own heart bending in worship to grasp the magnitude of this day. This was about understanding that any Easter festivities should be centered around celebrating the great sacrifice and amazing miracle this day represents. 

Every part of my eternal existence hinges on this day with the reality that Christ conquered death and paid my debt. Easter candy loses half its value tomorrow simply because it's "after the fact." The price Christ paid never loses its value yet seemingly becomes an afterthought on this candy-filled, egg-infused holiday.

I nearly missed it. It wasn't a traditional Easter and there weren't picture-making Easter memories to share. But you know what? I have something so much better to share! I have the good news that Christ conquered death, that He paid the price for ALL, each and every one of us, to be able to have the gift of eternal life. He rose! Today represents the gift of LIFE given through victory over the grave. The tomb is empty. He isn't there. And that, my friends, is the most amazing thing I could ever share or celebrate.

Don't get me wrong. I enjoy the festivities and fun the same way I embrace and celebrate Christmas but this year turned out a little bit differently with the reminder that I didn't need all the Easter "stuff" to celebrate Easter. But what if you weren't in church today. What if you were alone in a coffee shop with nothing more than your bible and your thoughts? What if you were gathered around a table full of family and food wondering what's it's all about? What if you were knee deep in grass searching for eggs? What if you're just now coming off the candy sugar rush and ready for call it a day praying you captured some part of today's significance? 

I hope you haven't missed it. It's not too late to embrace this gift and celebrate with thanksgiving that today, Resurrection Sunday, He has indeed risen, for you, for me, for each of us. Let's not let this day close without stopping to make sure we haven't missed Easter. 


Saturday, April 15, 2017

Vacation Moments

Some thoughts from vacation;

1. Bringing two sets of grandparents on vacation guarantees plenty of help for the kids but also enormous amounts of spoiling and sweets being snuck to said children. Actually, they weren't even trying to sneak as most of their blatant attempts were right in front of our faces. 

2. Violet proved she could hang with the rest of us and also that she doesn't want to miss anything with only a 20 minute nap in a 14 hour stretch at Magic Kingdom. She did remarkably well overall. 

3. Eli showed enormous amounts of maturity and together we're learning how to help ease anxiety and work through meltdown moments. I couldn't be more proud of how well he did! He thoroughly enjoyed himself! 

4. People around the pool have a remarkable self confidence. I worked out for months to be bathing suit ready and still was more covered than 90% of those around me. I can't decide if they should be more covered up or if I should be more confident. 

5. We had the most magical day at Magic Kingdom but as we were leaving along with the mass exodus, it was a stark reality to look around at the thousands of people and wonder how many of them know the Lord. What if they felt about Him the way they felt about Disney? Oh yes, I unashamedly love Disney World but I love my Savior so much more. This is the world we live in and leaving our bubble was certainly a reminder of how lost so many still are. 

6. Car rides are really terrible for me. I get too car sick from reading or looking down too long but I also get extremely bored. The kids did better than me, actually, but I am thankful for Dramamine and a DVD player. 

7. Being gone the week before Easter made me slightly sad that we missed out on Easter festivities like dying eggs and hunts and bunny pictures but I am truly grateful for the memories made and the opportunity to be in church worshipping on Resurrection Sunday! 

8. Tomorrow is Easter but it's also my husband's birthday! We got to celebrate with his parents while in Florida but somehow he thinks he's holier than me for sharing his birthday with Christ's sacrifice. Coincidentally his dad's birthday is on Christmas Eve. 

These are just a few of my family fun vacation moments!