Thursday, April 27, 2017


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! 



Tuesday, February 28, 2017


It was the faintest of lines. I admit I sat staring waiting those grueling few minutes, barely blinking in anticipation of a second line showing up. For any woman who has ever taken a pregnancy test you understand the range of emotions during those pain-staking minutes. For any woman who has taken test after test after test, you can empathize with the racing thoughts coupled with hopeful prayers. For any woman who has been longing for that line to show up, you can understand the heartache when it doesn't. The knot in your stomach, the lump in your throat, those minutes that feel like an eternity. The wave of disappointment that floods over you when nothing appears. The checking and double checking then checking once more...just in case. For any woman who's experienced the pain of loss, you understand the highs and lows in the almost bipolar unsettledness of your heart hoping that it's positive, yet gripped with fear by the reality of it being so.

And there it was. Two years ago today I got that sign. The faintest of lines. The sign that would confirm that I was in fact carrying another child. My heart had been aching, grieving the loss I had experienced months before. In a split second a sign of hope filled with overwhelming fear. 

We know the story now. That sign was our beautiful Violet Hope, the picture of hope and joy, the hope we held onto during loss. The hope I have believed in through all of the trials I've faced. The hope that I have clung to in the midst of despair. I did not know if that line meant I was carrying a boy or a girl but on this day two years ago I knew that God had placed a life inside me and he was giving yet another sign of continued hope.

Even as I type this I am well aware of the fact that there are women reading who will not be able to move forward. There are some whose hearts are still aching, gripped with pain and fear. There are some who are simply too grieved to even finish reading. There are some with such a deep longing they're wondering why it's worked out this way for me and not them. When will it be her turn? When will she experience this Hope fulfilled?

If you've been around me for any length of time then you understand that I can completely empathize with all of these emotions. Two years of infertility. Multiple failed adoption placements. Nerve-wracking interviews with birthmothers. Waiting to be chosen then the grief when you're not. Another year of questions and not knowing. The joy of pregnancy. The pain and grief of a miscarriage. I have walked through this journey navigating each twist and turn that has left a scar of remembrance upon my heart. No matter how far removed or how my cup runneth over, I am not too far from the memory of each and every step it has taken to get to this point.

Today represents one of those altars I mark as a testament of God's faithfulness. It would be easy to think I'm in a position to proclaim His goodness because of where I sit now, but it is because of the journey I've traveled and the fact that He's carried me through. He allowed me to carry a baby, but during the years of tears, heart-wrenching pain, empty arms, failed placements and aching loss, He drew my heart to His and became the source of my comfort and hope. I know the longing, emptiness, loneliness. I know the questions, stinging tears, dreaded doctor visits, and sitting unrecognized on Mother's Day. I also know the comfort of His embrace, the depth of His lavish love. I know He heard my heart's cry and answered not always with a yes or in the way I prayed, but He always answered. And for that I will stop today and give praise as I remember how far He's brought us. 

Sunday, February 12, 2017

The Red Pants

It was the Sunday before Valentine's Day and I was determined to don a celebratory outfit. You all know this about me. I've written about it before. I have a love-hate relationship with Valentine's Day. It falls just five days before my birthday. I think it's over patronized as a holiday designed for us to spend money simply to say that we love another. It seems futile. At the same time I don't miss an opportunity to celebrate. There are often times when I wonder if I should have been a kindergarten teacher and then I could have appropriately worn my valentine heart leggings. But you all know that I would have never made it in a classroom with five-year-olds. All. Day. Long.

So there I was. Staring at my closet. Looking through all of the red. Then I spotted them. My skinny red pants. I felt certain they were the perfect complement to show my celebratory mood in honor of this day of worship before the day of love. Oh, but there was one problem. My post-partum body was not meant to fit in these skinny red pants anymore. Sure, there had been a time when they fit me like a glove. But this was not that time. It was more like the scene from O.J. Simpson's trial trying to squeeze his hand into a shrunken piece of fabric that simply wasn't going to work. I felt the same as I did the jig, jumped up and down, squatted, and bent over trying to get the pants to stretch and fit. If anyone had witnessed this episode they would have been in for a real treat. And not the sugary sweet Valentine kind of treat. More like the kind where your eyes bug out of your head and then you roll over laughing because you can't believe what you're seeing.

Thankfully, my jig worked at least enough for me to get them buttoned. Never mind the muffin top. We'll blame all that extra skin on my sweet little Violet even though I would do it all again. So much for the simply fit board I got for Christmas. I guess I should have used it more than a dozen times in the last six weeks. Oh well, I didn't have time for that now. I would find a long tunic that would cover up all the problems. No one would be aware. A cute pair of heels and some jewelry and I was all set. 

I have to laugh. As intended no one suspected that underneath that long flowing top that I was poured into my red pants. I'm sure if they did know they would wonder how I was breathing.

In true confession style I come before you to share all the gory details. It seems only fitting. After all, I was the one who fatefully chose to wear flashy red pants that didn't actually fit. And yet those bright red pants were not easily missed! Oh the irony...

It makes me wonder how much we are truly covering up. How much we would reveal about ourselves if we were truly honest. If we were actually exposed for who we are deep down, Would it reveal the case of the too tight red pants? Would we see the blemishes and flaws? Would it reveal something that's desperately trying to be hidden? It could be a wound. It could be shame, hurt, pain. Whatever it is, there are some things worth covering. And then there's also other things worth revealing.

In this case I would like you all to give me a huge amount of gratitude for what I spared you from. It was certainly not worth revealing. But I have to tell you, my heart has been in that place where I've hidden the wounds with a painted on smile, covered up the scars with empty words, all the while wishing I could just let it all hang out and reveal the depths of my heart and mind. If I would have been gut-level honest it would have revealed the gut-wrenching truth of me just needing someone to share with. (Thank goodness that's the only gut I'm willing to expose...)

Today I'm challenged. Determined to take some things at surface level and praying for discernment to know when I should look deeper.  Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go change into a nice soft stretchy pair of leggings!! 

Saturday, January 28, 2017

To The Ends of the Earth

I get it. The issues are controversial. The conversations divisive. I found myself in a keyboard war on Twitter wondering where all these outspoken Christians have been for the last 8 years. Did we just awake from our coma only to realize things haven't gone according to plan? We're ready to fight to the death for the rights of lives that somehow weren't oppressed until last week...or were they? I hear you. "Be the hands and feet of Christ. Faith without works is dead. Jesus wants us to care for the widows and orphans." Indeed!! I know the scriptures well and I agree with these biblical truths we should employ as we seek to serve and share the Gospel. 

Yet I find myself conflicted. Understand I won't be protesting the President or proclaiming his praises. At least not in this blog. I'm simply coming to you and asking where you've been for the last 8 years. Why have we stepped forward now ready to battle? It's as if we somehow fear our Christian rights will be oppressed. Haven't we already been living through that?? Where were these opposing forces when so many of our Christian views were being squealched and held as offensive if we dare speak? 

We're taking on each other as if we're somehow enemies, becoming busy and distracted by things that seemingly don't align with our faith. Yet all the while neglecting the real Enemy who seeks to devour and destroy. He's eating us alive with the disdain and disrespect we have for one another. Never mind those who disagree with our beliefs. We're too caught up with the war of words among ourselves to realize we're engaged in the wrong battle. 

Hear me, please. My heart literally breaks at the countless tear-stained faces searching for shelter and refuge. The war-torn countries, the lands devastated by catastrophic events, surely we have room for them. Surely the abundance I live in could be spread among dozens to help. How can I help??? It becomes the heart cry of each one of us seeking to be His hands and feet. The practicality of the answer isn't so simple. It's not just one or a few dozen. It's thousands. Maybe millions. Plus the one billion citizens governed by a single democracy with nearly countless differing views. And we're expecting one man to make the right decision for the masses and we're infuriated if we don't agree. Surely only One can be the answer anyway. 

Help us, Lord. Forgive us for hurting one another but please God, have mercy on us for hurting You. Oh how Your heart must be grieved by our bellyaching. The self-righteous views we hold that my view is somehow better. Teach us how to show Your love and mercy. Show us the way, Lord, not just to You but how to lead the lost to You. 

I know we won't all agree. The truth is I'm not sure we really know what the truth should be on these matters. But I know the One Truth we shouldn't be arguing. So let me leave this here. I don't know why some are born into the land of the free and others are enslaved. I know we can just as easily be held captive by the chains of sin and selective hearing when we refuse to listen to the heart cry of our Heavenly Father. He desires for no one to perish. Lest we forget He died for all. Let us seek to proclaim this Truth to the ends of the earth. 

Friday, January 27, 2017

The Little Things

Sometimes it's the little things. The simplest of details that no one else would know or recognize, yet I know. More importantly, it reminds me that He knows. There's been way too many happenings in the past few weeks for me to dismiss it as mere happenstance, so I'm coming here today to give credit where credit is due.

It's the little things. The details of our lives. The stuff that means nothing to anyone but us and because it became one of the things that God chose to pinpoint in my life it ultimately results in something monumental.

It's the little things that lead me to stop and stand in awe of the God of the universe who cares enough to deal with the mundane of my day to day. It's the things that speak volumes to me when I feel like my voice is but a clanging cymbal among a thousand beating drums, realizing He heard me among the crowd.

It's often these very nit-picky things that drive us crazy. The things that gnaw at our patience or chip away at the very core of our faith. We get so caught up in these things, the petty annoyances, the simplest of grievances, that they often become the giants in our lives.

How quickly I can get caught up in my daily frustrations and miss it! I miss Him when all He wanted to do was bless my socks off, yet I spend my energy flustered and complaining.

I'll admit I'm the first one to sit in a Spirit-filled service and pray "Lord, speak to me. Use me. Let me be Your vessel." And yet I fall so short of the opportunity to fully embrace Him as He makes His way toward me. It's not always intentional. Sometimes I'm so distracted I simply miss Him altogether. Other times I'm so preoccupied with my own self that I ashamedly admit I don't leave any room for Him. "No, Lord. I've got this. You're free to help someone else." How often do I forfeit His blessings, His presence, because of my self righteous belief that I have somehow arrived?

And yet, in these moments, in these very details, He lovingly graciously comes back, pursuing me, drawing me, reminding me He's there. He seeks relationship with me. He does this by revealing Himself to me in the very distinct details that make up the mundane of my life.

But here's the catch. He's doing this for you, too. Don't miss it, my friend. Don't miss Him. The details of your life matter to the God of the universe, the Creator of all things, He cares for you and every little thing that matters to you.