tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39425748813260371302024-03-21T14:50:31.218-04:00Thankful In AllBe thankful in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you who belong to Christ Jesus. -1 Thessalonians 5:18AMLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12027783303055176629noreply@blogger.comBlogger356125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3942574881326037130.post-41925648933828044632016-09-27T00:45:00.000-04:002016-10-07T19:41:08.224-04:00simple phraseWe have been living in a difficult season for awhile now.<br />
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Some days are really hard.</div>
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My Love will come home and I share with him the struggles I went through. He gets to hear all the raw emotion and sordid details. Maybe a week later I might sit down with a friend and recall the same experience with less passion. Perhaps a month later I will update a relative on the phone and again talk about that day weeks ago in just basic facts.</div>
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With each passing day that overwhelming moment in time gets shorter and shorter. The emotions felt and the memories relayed get foggier and less significant. </div>
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Recently I have heard several people share their testimony and it struck me how much life must have been lived in just a single statement relayed. How many tears shed, knees skinned, checks bounced, dinners made, sins revealed, fears felt, forgiveness given, miles driven, hours worked, prayers lifted and years lived all wrapped up in a simple phrase describing a whole season of their life. </div>
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"During our marriage, we lived in Germany and California before spending the last seven years in Virginia."</div>
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13 years full of all kinds of memories. 13 years of God trying to mold us to look more like him. 13 years of building this family. </div>
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It hasn't been easy. Ever. But somehow I find both grief and comfort in knowing that all that we are currently living and walking through will one day just be a few short words in a brief story of our lives. A story God is writing and knows the ending to.</div>
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AMLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12027783303055176629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3942574881326037130.post-62096221348390125992016-09-17T19:29:00.001-04:002016-09-27T00:50:41.802-04:00radical loveHer text came on a Tuesday morning.<br />
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"...my dad died last night..."<br />
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I lost my breath for a moment and then my heart burst into a million pieces for my friend. She had already grieved the loss of her mother before we met 13 years ago and I couldn't even begin to imagine the pain she would be feeling with such unexpected news.<br />
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It didn't take long before I got the crazy idea to go to her. By some strange and divine appointment, My Love eventually supported my plans. After playing out each scenario out loud, the best travel option was decided for me to drive there with our four happy little travelers. It was going to be a spontaneous 700-mile adventure.<br />
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We decided to tell my friend of my intentions to come for her father's funeral. Plans had been made and accommodations booked. And as we predicted, she insisted I didn't need to make the trip and would rather us come visit later on after the shock had worn off. She wanted to have something good to look forward to.<br />
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"Ok," I said. "I can respect that." <br />
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I hung up the phone and turned to My Love and said, "She told me not to come but I'm going to anyway." And by another act of God, he was still ok with it. My Love's travel points paid for our two night hotel stay and a friend was willing to help out with the dog while My Love worked. It was time to pack for our road trip.<br />
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In what was essentially a grand gesture of God's love for my friend, I drove through four states with no expectation of spending any real time with her. I was merely going to give her a hug and show my moral support by attending the funeral.<br />
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I loaded up the kids in the minivan at 2:45am on a Monday and arrived at our final destination in a small town in rural Indiana 13 hours later. The kids took a swim in the hotel pool and we ate dinner locally before calling it a night.<br />
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The next day we made our way to the funeral home prior to the Catholic Mass being held at a church nearby. I saw her from the back in an adjacent room off the main hallway and I gently touched her arm. She turned toward me, jumped back with a gasp and covered her mouth trying to hold back tears.<br />
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"I didn't respect your words," I said. "But sometimes a girl has to give a friend a hug." She burst into tears.<br />
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We hugged and cried and hugged some more. She held the baby and snuggled each of my older children as I in turn hugged on the two of hers.<br />
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"How long was that drive?" she asked worried about all the trouble I had gone through for this moment.<br />
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"It doesn't matter," I reassured her. "Sometimes you do hard things for people you love."<br />
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More tears and hugs.<br />
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The service was beautiful. Even though I had never met her father, I felt like I knew him. What a sweet man. My friend looked in my direction as she walked down the aisle following behind the casket to her seat. In that moment as she blew a kiss my direction with tears streaming down her face I knew in my heart I was right where God wanted me to be in this world. We visited with her and her family briefly a few more times before it was already times to say goodbye. In God's grace, the four children had been perfect little travelers. We packed up the van and took one more sleep before starting our 700-mile road trip back home to Virginia.<br />
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As I drove on the beautiful roadway that is highway 64, I couldn't help but think about how radically God loves. And now that I knew I was capable of being used by him to show love in a big way, it was now time to allow his radical love to flow through me in my own home--toward my husband and children.AMLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12027783303055176629noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3942574881326037130.post-63230746384022720062016-09-07T23:13:00.002-04:002016-10-15T15:34:53.045-04:00Counting the days635 days ago there was a knock on the door and a woman walked two precious dear skinned children into our lives. They were visiting for respite care. We said yes knowing we had two biological children and one bonus foster baby. It was only to be an 8 day visit and we could fit 5 children into our Volvo XC-90. Thank the Lord we bought that third row seating 9 years ago before a single baby was a twinkle in our eyes.<br />
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It was an adventure to be sure. One that included a paternity test if I recall correctly. They also screamed terribly every night at bed time. But Buddy Boy and his sister Ladybug arrived with smiles and ratty hair but with no inhibitions about staying with complete strangers--which bothers me every time. They just seemed happy to have children and toys to play with. Brother and Babydoll are the gateway to our home for so many hurting kids, I tell you what. God is using them in our family ministry in a mighty way. <br />
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The week came and went and My Love and I took a deep breath and gave each other a high five. We survived the week. The kids were a joy but it was nice to return to our termporary family of five again with our easy going bios and low key infant. Never again did I expect to see them.<br />
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A month later the phone rang again. Another respite was being sought as their caregivers would be traveling again. We said yes for continuity sake. They were precious after all. The case worker sort of let on that the situation might be changing with their current foster home where they were living with a youngest baby brother of the five siblings.<br />
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Buddy and Ladybug spent another fun filled week with us. I think we went to pumpkin patch. It wasn't long after that when we had a meeting with all parties involved in their case. After praying about it, we agreed it was best for the two of them to come live with us. Baby J would stay in his current foster home. Seriously, what were My Love and I thinking? I mean, five kids?! Five kids?! There was something in us that felt like God opened the door for us to love on these children and who were we to say no out of fear now. It wasn't until six months later that Punky Pie left our home to live with relatives who later were able to adopt her. <br />
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So much has happened in these past 635 days. It has been a long hard journey for our little son's heart. Ladybug of course eventually left our home too to live with her biological father. I think that shook Buddy the most as I don't believe he ever dreamed they would be separated. But about six months ago it became official that he was going to be able to stay with us and we were free to pursue adoption. As much as he longed for his first family to get things together and make it right he knew in his heart and mind pretty early on that he was right where God wanted him to be. The anxiety and stress he had been carrying around in the unknown had disappeared and he was finally free to just be without fear. The case worker and lawyer have been busy checking all the burecratic boxes but for all intents and purposes Buddy is our forever son. We couldn't be more humbled to hear him call us mom and dad.<br />
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Last week we were sitting on the couch and Buddy turned to me and said, "Mom, if I grow up and be like Dad, I would like that." Cue tears. He has come so far and really we are still sitting in awe watching God do miracles in his heart and mind.<br />
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635 days is far too long to be living in limbo. How excited we are to have a reason to stop counting up those days and just moving forward into our future together.AMLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12027783303055176629noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3942574881326037130.post-21454052812709908892016-04-01T08:16:00.000-04:002016-04-01T08:18:02.769-04:00i'm back<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">How can it be two years since I last blogged? I think in an effort to allow for the children in our care to remain anonymous and own their own stories, I neglected to share my heart during mine. So much has happened in our family since Sweet Pea left us after a short 6 month chapter. We loved on Punky Pie for 10 months during her first year of life and had to say another hard goodbye. And just this past December, we hugged Ladybug and returned her to a relative after 13 months of her calling me Mommy. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Here we are 16 months into parenting our Buddy Boy and starting a new chapter yet again. One that includes me being 8 months pregnant and expecting to adopt our bonus son in the coming months. We have witnessed God do miracles. We have felt pain. We have screamed. We have held onto our marriage for dear life. And yet somehow, God still manages to be present and guiding the growth of our family as we learn to trust more of our lives to him.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">So join me once again as I attempt to navigate these waters. As we take a pause from this long, lonely, amazing chapter of our lives that included fostering those God specifically included in our bonus family to focus on these four precious permanent children who have been entrusted to us.</span></span>AMLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12027783303055176629noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3942574881326037130.post-28246665085970613082014-03-28T18:01:00.001-04:002014-03-28T18:02:02.236-04:00looking for a bedtime snack<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />AMLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12027783303055176629noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3942574881326037130.post-6034940465672682062014-03-28T10:27:00.002-04:002014-03-28T18:02:15.898-04:00not protecting our hearts<span style="font-size: large;">A lot of well-meaning people keep telling me there is no way they could ever do foster care. I mean, it would be so hard to say goodbye. They gently suggest that I protect my heart in this process.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">My responses have been fine tuned over this past month.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">First, in our own strength we can't either. It never dawned on me to open my home to children in need of a loving family before two years ago. God planted that desire in our hearts for his good purpose, so even though it is us holding and kissing this precious Sweet Pea each day, it is really Him.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Second, I spend very little time thinking about the day we will say goodbye. How can I be fully used by God today if I am worried about the "someday" that may never come? We have no idea how long and complicated this journey will be so it became very clear to us early on how pointless it would be to dwell on something that we have no control over when will actually happen.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Third, we have chosen not to protect our hearts. How could we possibly?! She needs our whole hearts today. And God is capable of healing our broken hearts as he is in fact already doing. I have cried over this Little One more than once and I expect to many times more. What an honor it is to cry for her! Why do we as believers fear pain? God is good in the heartache and the joy!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">This song spoke to me years ago and has more relevance now. It was not written as a song about foster care but it applies completely to our feelings toward this season we have with Sweet Pea.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/7vF4tc9QREY" width="480"></iframe></span>AMLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12027783303055176629noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3942574881326037130.post-63218535544957368082014-03-26T13:10:00.002-04:002014-03-26T13:16:35.030-04:00lingering heartache<span style="font-size: large;">I have never experienced real grief before. Isn't that amazing? A 32 year old woman whose heart has been guarded from such loss all this time. It seems silly that my first grieving experience has been for a dog but then again maybe not. Bentley was a part of our family. Our daily life. His absence is deafening. I wonder how long it will be before I don't look at the calendar on the 25th day and calculate how long it has been.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">One month.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I haven't cried since that day we said goodbye and yet I am in this surreal place of believing he is really gone. I think that stage is called denial. I had my first dream about him two nights ago. He was walking out of the woods toward our house and I just kept yelling for My Love to come see. That he wasn't gone after all but had only be missing in the woods all this time. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But it was only a dream.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I vacillate through the anger stage too. Almost every time I see someone walking their dog in our neighborhood--especially another golden--I cringe. Do they even realize how good they have it? I wish I could walk our dog. </span><span style="font-size: large;">We used to take a Family Walk most days. Those walks have a whole different feel now and don't happen as often as they used to out of necessity.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Brother started showing signs of missing his Wuppy Brother. He found an old framed 4x6 of Bentley that we had up in his old bedroom before we moved to this house. I found it in his bed one morning and watched him as he carried it around the house and stared at it for a day or too. "This is our dog. He died though, " I heard him say to his visiting Auntie. Very matter of fact but also a hint of sadness for missing him starting to come through in his own way.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">We were eating dinner at a friend's house when she unknowingly complained about the dog hair around their place. "You'll miss it someday," My Love said under his breath. He's right. I had expected to see more lingering evidence of his previous presence in our home but it is just gone. All that remains is this lingering heartache.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">For the most part, life is business as usual around here. But our hearts are still aching and I don't expect that to dim any time soon.</span>AMLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12027783303055176629noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3942574881326037130.post-61976961567575221722014-03-23T16:26:00.001-04:002014-03-28T18:03:01.894-04:00when she met them for the first time<span style="font-size: large;">We were both admittedly anxious about meeting her family for the first time. They were driving a long way to be here and we had no idea what to expect. My Love took half the day off so he could be present for the visitation too. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I pulled into the parking lot and saw the social worker walking through the parking lot. She helped us out of the car and I looked up and there were three people coming toward the building at the same time. She started crying as soon as she saw her. "[Sweet Pea] looks just like [him]!" Having only seen one picture I knew she would have that reaction. Seeing the face of your baby on that of another would bring anyone to tears. They had never met her before. We walked inside and instantly peace started washing over me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">My Love arrived a few minutes later and we spent the next 2 1/2 hours talking to Sweet Pea's relatives as they held her and kissed her and played with her and fed her on the floor of the social worker's office. It really couldn't have gone any better.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Admittedly My Love and I would have loved for Sweet Pea to be forever ours, but God never made us that promise. And in this brief meeting we could see a glimpse of his plan for the next chapter of her life. We could see our purpose for this season. We could see even more how much our Sovereign Lord loves her.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It will likely still be months before she leaves our arms, but in the mean time both sides are at peace in the waiting knowing that God is in control and is Lord over both our households.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I asked if we could pray together before we said goodbye and with our heads bowed in this government building and we agreed together seeking God's face on behalf of this precious baby girl. How cool is that!?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The more I draw near to him the bigger God reveals himself to be. I am overwhelmed and humbled by his love for the least of these and that he has called my family to serve him in this way.</span>AMLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12027783303055176629noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3942574881326037130.post-69944696815671150202014-03-14T08:10:00.000-04:002014-03-14T13:21:19.918-04:00goodbye bentley boy (part 2 of 2)<span style="font-size: large;">The drive seemed so short. Through the tears we shared stories of our Boy. "Remember when we picked him up from the breeder?" I said. We laughed thinking about the tiny puff ball that he was at 8 weeks. We had brought our huge wire crate in the back of the Volvo to pick him up. He looked so tiny. "Yeah," My Love said smiling. "He threw up in the car and I had to pull over to clean it up." We both laughed. Then silence and tears again. We recalled such sweet memories spent together as a family with our Wups over the last seven years. Road trips, hikes, camping trips, bed and breakfast get aways. How could we even make new memories in our little family without him in it? It seemed impossible.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">As we pulled up to the vet's office, I was weeping uncontrollably. We took a minute kissing him in the back of the car before stumbling into the office. People sat there with their pets smiling and laughing. The clip board required us to sign in with a space to fill in the reason for our visit. I couldn't bring myself to write it down. They brought us into a room right away.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">We took care of some logistics and then spent the rest of our time with him petting him and kissing him and crying on him. We kept telling him how much we would miss him and what a good boy he had been. He was laying peacefully in My Loves arms when the techs stepped out for a minute and a sweet song came to mind. A song we have sung to our human children since they were babies called <a href="http://youtu.be/Cht5g_Uw0_Q">Snuggle Puppy</a>. Through tears, My Love and I sang it to our furry firstborn on the floor of the vet's office. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The vet came back in and it was time. I won't share details but it was terrible. His spirit left him and I couldn't bring myself to even look at him after that. I was doubled over wailing and yelling about the obvious realization that had just happened. My Love had to help me to the car as we exited out the back door leaving our boy behind. There were more tears as the car felt extremely empty. And then it was like the tears were all gone. I don't remember crying again after that. We talked more on the ride home and felt emotionally drained but the grief morphed into something else. We had just about gone through all the stages before this day and found ourselves just missing his presence.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">We drove up to our house just the two of us and thanked our neighbor and friend for blessing us with such a precious memory. We had both been there when Bentley was welcomed into our family and we were both with him at the end. I can never repay her for that gift!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the midst of our sorrow, there was God's overwhelming grace wrapped up in a precious baby girl asleep in an upstairs room. During the time that we lost our Bentley Boy, Sweet Pea's presence in our family became a soothing balm to our aching hearts.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">That Tuesday night, My Love and I were just numb sitting next to each other on the couch while the TV played. He was really gone. I had asked friends on Facebook to share stories of our sweet dog and we spent the rest of our night smiling and laughing as we recalled his crazy antics. He was loved well by so many. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Good bye Bentley Boy! When we brought you home in 2006, you made us a family and we are better for knowing you. We miss you terribly and wish we had more time before you had to go. But oh how sweet the memories will always be in our hearts!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">(February 2014)</span></div>
AMLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12027783303055176629noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3942574881326037130.post-78848146910556557652014-03-14T07:20:00.000-04:002014-03-14T08:24:40.430-04:00before the end (part 1 of 2)<span style="font-size: large;">Our next door neighbor offered to come stay with the kids on that Tuesday evening so I could be with My Love. What a blessing! No hard goodbyes in front of the kids. It was bad enough I broke down the day before after making the worst phone call of my life. "Mommy's OK," I reassured them as they came to comfort me. "Are you sad about Bentley?" he asked already knowing the answer. "Yes, buddy. But God can heal my heart," I said. Did I just schedule <i>that</i> appointment?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It was just four months before that we even noticed a change in Bentley's behavior and demeanor. We took him to the vet inquiring about his recent pee accidents in the house. They suspected a bladder infection and prescribed antibiotics. It didn't work. After a series of more tests, we pursued a second opinion and felt more confident with the care he was receiving at the new vet's office. More tests were done. His symptoms continued to develop and worsen. At some point we came to the decision that we could spend hundreds of more dollars just to confirm a diagnosis that we already knew we would not choose to treat, or we could accept his assumed illness as it was. Brain tumor.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">At the end he was down to 64 pounds I think even diligently eating his regular two meals a day. My heart sank the day I noticed he left a few morsels of his breakfast in the bowl. That was SO not our boy. It had been weeks since he ate something off the counter or even off the floor. His legs were weak and he refused to climb any stairs. He was going blind and walked into walls and tripped over toys. He incessantly paced around the house every evening and when he wasn't doing that he was sleeping. He continued to have accidents. My Love came home before us on Valentine's Day to find Wups had pooped in the house and blindly tracked it all over the family room. Caring for him became so stressful trying to anticipate when he would need to go out to pee and literally having to carry him back inside. He would slowly wander in the front yard and down the street before he heard our voice calling him back and he would try to follow it. He was disoriented. No leash necessary. We hadn't gone on a Family Walk in quite awhile. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The Monday I made the call I could tell he was done. When I took him outside he would walk just a few steps and then lay down in the grass. It was a sunny, breezy day so at one point I just lied down with him spooning my furry firstborn in the front yard. It was one of the most beautiful moments I ever shared with him as I watched his fur blow in the sunshine. No photo was necessary.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">My heart was breaking.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Wups had been sleeping in a crate when we were away from home and at night for a couple weeks. Monday night we brought him to bed with us and he slept for a few hours right between us before he woke up anxious. It was beautiful. My Love put him on the floor next to his side of the bed where he would normally sleep and he stayed there all night. It was so nice having him in the room with us again. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">When Tuesday morning came, every thing about that day was excruciating. Knowing the exact time caused me to count down the hours with such pain. I was extremely irritable with my innocent human children wanting to spend as much uninterrupted time with Bentley as I could. It was his worst day yet. When he came inside from not going pee, he stepped just inside the front door and laid down there sleeping for the the rest of the day. My poor Love had to spend the day at work. While the kids were "napping", I once again just lied down with My Boy and pet him. Every once in awhile my weeping would startle him to sit up and I would try to calm him back down. Five more hours.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">I spent part of the day removing some of Bentley's items from their normal places. As hard as it would be to come home and see them missing, I knew it would be even harder to see them there empty and unused when we got back that evening.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">For some crazy reason My Love got home later than usual from work that day. His alone time with Wups was limited. Eventually our neighbor came over and the kids said goodbye before running off to play. My Love carried Bentley to the car and lifted him into the back of the Volvo. Was this really happening? The first few minutes were driven in silence with bursts of weeping from both of us. With each mile that we drew closer to our destination, my heart sunk deeper in my chest... </span>AMLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12027783303055176629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3942574881326037130.post-2117363161289524302014-03-12T13:23:00.003-04:002014-03-28T18:02:42.176-04:00sweet pea<span style="font-size: large;">"We are on our way to pick up a baby girl right now so we need an answer like, right now," the social worker said.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I called My Love. We were both open to walking through this process with God again. The circumstances that were shared implied that she might be with us much longer than the previous children. Let's do this, Lord.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">An hour or so later on that Thursday night, I had a beautiful infant in my arms. Her sleepy, big, blue eyes stole my heart right away. After the recent addition of three little ones, just one seemed like it would be a breeze.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Sweet Pea spent the first several days sleeping as we all got to know each other. She entered our home at such a sweet time and brought joy when there was about to be so much sorrow...</span>AMLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12027783303055176629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3942574881326037130.post-70498690792651611762014-03-11T13:23:00.001-04:002014-03-12T13:27:31.579-04:00hello, goodbye<span style="font-size: large;">Just as quickly as they arrived, the three precious angels who entered our lives left again. Our world was rocked for six days. We were literally still in blissful survival mode.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Remember the prayer request My Love mentioned on his drive home the day we got the call? Well that developed into a stomach bug that evening. It turned out to be a huge blessing that he was sick because he stayed home from work the next day and was there to welcome the children (feeling mostly better by that point). Fast forward to Sunday night and I was the one puking my guts out. All. Night. Long. My Love took Monday off to take care of all five kids solo while I stayed in bed. Tuesday afternoon, I was waving goodbye to three beautiful children that I held in my arms. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It was the most crazy-beautiful six straight days I have ever had. Noise, laughter, and running feet. Wiping snotty noses, changing poopy diapers, and comforting night terrors. It brought me so much joy to see our home full and being used for God's glory. These three children had no idea what foster care was. They thought they were just with us for a sleep over. It is amazing how God protects the minds of children. Thankfully they had someone already in their life who was willing and able to care for them. We feel so blessed to have offered a soft place for them to land for those six days. And forevermore our hearts will be changed as we pray for their futures for the rest of our days.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It wasn't far into the morning of day one when the oldest of the three said the most heart-wrenching and genuinely loving compliment I have ever received.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">"I can tell you act like a good Mom!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Sniff.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">We knew Tuesday would be the day we would find out how much longer they would be staying with me. My Love was back at work by then and when the phone rang this time I got the news I was expecting. But somehow I was still saddened. The unknowns, the what ifs, the we-didn't-do-enough thoughts. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">Just in case things changed again, I decided to wait until the last minute to tell the children (including my own) that the fun was over and they would be returning home after nap. I braced for tears but none came. Instead they left with happy smiles just as they arrived. Not a care or fear in the world even while being shuffled about.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Sniff.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It overwhelms me to think about God's sovereignty in all of this. How he prepared our hearts two years ago for such a time as this. To provide them a loving home even for such a short time. He loves them so much. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">A week after they left, My Love and I still hadn't sat down and had a real talk about what we had just walked through together. We learned A LOT. We learned that we work well as a team. That My Love has a sincere servant's heart --which I already knew. We saw how our top priorities had quickly fallen by the wayside in the name of survival. In the future that could NOT be the case. We felt peace in our home of chaos knowing we were being covered in prayer. It really was a sweet time. The children were so precious and we think back to those days fondly. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">How thankful we are to have said yes and obeyed God even when it felt scary. If I am truly honest, it wasn't until the social worker was on his way with the children that I really believed it was going to happen. We went through this once before when God asked if we were willing and then after he got the answer of "Yes, Lord" he promptly said, "good to know," and those two children were placed somewhere else. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The real truth is though it wasn't us at all. The Lord even saw fit to allow us to both be vomitting during that time to remind us that we can do NOTHING in our own strength. For six days we were literally just empty shells being used by Him for his good purpose. It was a busy time but it was also so peaceful.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Like I said, we hadn't even decompressed fully days after the children had exited our lives. We knew we needed to be really praying about what this meant for our family continuing to serve God through foster care. "Those social workers loved us, My Love," I joked. "They will probably call back. We need to be ready with an answer.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Nine days later around 4pm, the phone rang again. It was the Department of Social Services...</span>AMLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12027783303055176629noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3942574881326037130.post-52715229566168248612014-03-10T10:06:00.002-04:002014-03-12T13:27:55.483-04:00take me deeper<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">Let me walk upon the waters</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">Wherever You would call me</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">And my faith will be made stronger</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">In the presence of my Savior</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<a href="http://youtu.be/iilc92XVd00"><span style="font-size: large;">http://youtu.be/iilc92XVd00</span></a><br />
<br />AMLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12027783303055176629noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3942574881326037130.post-36407827585506695072014-03-06T19:39:00.000-05:002014-03-06T19:41:52.370-05:00the phone rang<span style="font-size: large;">I was waiting on a phone call from the vet, so I answered the ring coming from the unfamiliar number with that expectation in mind. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It wasn't the vet. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It was the Department of Social Services.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">"We have a sibling set of three children," she said. The voice coming from a woman whose name was mentioned just the week before in our home in different context.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">"Do you think I should call them and tell them to take our name off the "list"?" I asked My Love. He said no. If the phone rang, we would deal with it when it came. Even though it had been nearly two years since we started the process of foster care without a single placement. I was ready to close the door completely. He told me to leave it ajar.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">"We will be bringing them into care tomorrow afternoon," she continued. More details were shared. The children were 5, 2, and 1. It would likely be temporary.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I was shocked to say the least. I mean, we were just talking about this very moment. What we would do when the phone rang. The thing was, I knew My Love would be unreachable for the next few hours. I knew he would be calling at some point to find out if the vet had called yet. I knew it would be difficult to make this decision over the phone.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">He finally did call in one of his classic I-can-only-talk-for-a-second calls. They don't happen often but when they do I have to cram as much information into two sentences as I possibly can. By then the vet had called so I shared that news and then I told him DSS had called and literally had no time to elaborate beyond that. He responded with "I have to run back in now. Can you please pray for me? I am about to do my briefing and I am really not feeling well." Um.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Poor guy called me an hour or so later. I told him what I knew about the potential placement. He was on a longish commute back to our area and asked if he could call me back after he had time to pray and think about it.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The phone rang thirty minutes later. We were on the same page. The page we had kind of been on from the beginning of this process. We decided to say yes. Little did we know what was to come...</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>AMLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12027783303055176629noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3942574881326037130.post-10977448192779221622014-03-06T19:16:00.003-05:002014-03-06T19:16:56.450-05:00so...I might be back<span style="font-size: large;">Now I know I said THE END so dramatically and all, but part of me kind of thought I would wind up here again. I mean, I did pretty well for awhile convincing myself that the season of blogging was behind me. Mostly because months had gone by with no real inspiration or anything interesting to share. Ultimately this blog was always for me though. To be a place where I could be reminded of God's faithfulness in the mundane and miraculous. It just seems like the right time to write again. </span><span style="font-size: large;">I am not making any promises of returning full force, but I would like to chronicle how being Thankful In All has prepared me for such a time as this.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">So here we go...</span>AMLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12027783303055176629noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3942574881326037130.post-51546543759414908852013-10-21T15:16:00.001-04:002013-10-21T15:16:56.749-04:00the end.AMLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12027783303055176629noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3942574881326037130.post-61260702216356461302013-09-29T20:34:00.003-04:002013-09-29T20:39:08.395-04:00my son was reborn<span style="font-size: large;">What an amazing day! </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It started like most Sunday mornings. I got up a little early to shower before breakfast and then somehow still had a hard time getting out the door on time.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">On this particular Sunday morning though, the children sat in the service with us. It is part of what they call their 5th Sunday Celebration. During every month that has a fifth Sunday, they offer a baptism at the end of the service and then the whole church stays for a potluck lunch. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Since we had plans with other friends to go apple picking after church, we just went home for lunch. My Love grilled steak and we ate outside on the patio in the beautiful sunshine of this crisp fall day.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">During the meal, My Love and I started talking about baptism with Brother. Asking him if he knew what it meant and why they chose to do it. He seemed to have a general idea based on his last experience with 5th Sunday.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">him: But when can I get baptized?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">me: Well first you have to accept Jesus into your heart.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">him: I want to do that.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">me: You do!?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">him: Yeah. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">me: You have to believe that Jesus is God.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">him: I do.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">me: And that he suffered and died so your sins might be forgiven.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">him: I do.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I know I said other stuff too that he understood and agreed with but the rest seems like a blur. Brother went on to confirm his personal faith in Christ and then prayed his own sweet two sentence prayer out loud to invite God to be the Savior and Lord of his life. I can't remember the exact words that he said (I wanted them to be his own) but that is probably for the best because really it was straight from his heart to God's ears. The decision was all his own and he initiated the invitation.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Afterward I cheered and told him how angels were singing in heaven today. That this was the most important decision he would ever make in his life. Then I told him that God lives in his heart now. With big eyes he asked, "You mean my heart is his home?" It was really precious. Suddenly everything seemed to click in his head. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">We went on with our day out with friends and I shared the news with them. They responded with such excitement for our boy. Once back home that evening, Brother boldly told the news to two boys on our street that he was outside playing with about his "special day". </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Oh the joy of seeing your child make a decision to follow Christ. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Tonight as My Love and I tucked him into bed, we told Brother how he wasn't just our son anymore. He was also our brother. "Can I call you sis?" he asked.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Oh how amazing it will be to move forward discipling this little boy in God's word. Lord thank you for choosing him to be yours. Speak to his heart at a young age so he might follow closely after you all the days of his life. Thank you for the gift of being present for this amazing day. September 29, 2013. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Happy Re-Birth Day Brother. Today was the day you started a new life in Christ.</span>AMLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12027783303055176629noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3942574881326037130.post-72919972195482602612013-09-11T23:29:00.003-04:002013-09-11T23:29:45.105-04:00one is coming<span style="font-size: large;">It seems like I should probably post something. I mean, there has been a lot going on but somehow none of it feels like worthy of writing down when so much time as passed. The truth is we are all a work in progress and yet sometimes we just want to skip to the end. Let's make a (one-sided) deal though. I'll get through the busyness of this coming weekend and then we'll meet back here sometime next week for a thorough update. It is date. </span>AMLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12027783303055176629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3942574881326037130.post-84794997700880941962013-08-19T16:08:00.003-04:002013-08-19T16:08:58.833-04:00lift my life<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/RBv2cjTiBd8" width="560"></iframe>AMLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12027783303055176629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3942574881326037130.post-49323465595636952012013-08-19T13:04:00.003-04:002013-08-19T13:07:58.825-04:00sunflower<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Babydoll brought a paper cup home from Sunday School filled with dirt. A tiny seed hiding deep inside. She planted it in the front yard in the same place that her Brother did the year before. We watched it grow from the earth into one bloom bigger than her head. Some fuzzy bumble bees called it home for quite awhile. At some point the weight of the flower became too heavy even for its strong stalk to hold up. It spent weeks, months growing up toward the sun and then at some point slowly started bending its head down toward its Maker. Humbled by the beauty that He created. And yet a perfect example of the sunshine that helped warm the seed enough to start the first sign of growth.</span></div>
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AMLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12027783303055176629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3942574881326037130.post-11516841312586197592013-08-18T16:07:00.003-04:002013-08-18T16:07:50.545-04:00good steward<span style="font-size: large;">He stood faithfully at the entrance of our sanctuary every Sunday morning. An slender, above-average tall man with straight, fine, white hair parted down the middle and stopping just above the shoulders. It made me smile when I first learned his name was in fact Harry. It fit. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">He had a look about him like he was always on a mission. Like he had a purpose in each action that he did while quietly serving our church each Sunday. Working the lights, welcoming guests and doing behind the scenes kind of work. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Come to find out he had been married to his petite wife for 43 years and was the CEO of a local credit union for 27 of those years. He always greeted you with a smile as he handed you a bulletin. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then one week day morning he was driving to work at 6:15am and ran off the road and hit a pole in a single car accident. Not long afterward, he was in the presence of his Savior and Lord. 63 years old.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I didn't know him at all. The above description was the extent of my interaction with the usher that was seemingly the face of our fellowship. I wouldn't say I have been grieving his loss, but I was surprisingly shaken by his absence from this life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">One day he was there. The next he was gone.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">There is hope in the lives of the loved ones he left behind knowing they will see him again. But suddenly my life seems so fragile. The lives of my children. My husband. Why do I waste a moment demanding my own way or harboring resentment or holding onto fear?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The truth is, this life is not my own. And the very second that God wants to take me home, my mission on this earth will be complete.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So why do I feel like a failure? I had such lofty plans when we moved to this house, this street, this neighborhood. I felt called to this community and believed God had big plans to use us here. But really our days here could be numbered and suddenly I am pondering whether I have been a good steward of the purpose God set before us during this chapter of our lives.</span>AMLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12027783303055176629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3942574881326037130.post-75336691185570424982013-08-14T08:27:00.002-04:002013-08-14T08:27:52.733-04:00he is with us<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/Z6mEQS2fsWE" width="560"></iframe>AMLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12027783303055176629noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3942574881326037130.post-72077964154104416112013-07-01T22:08:00.001-04:002013-07-01T22:19:15.230-04:00growth<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I told My Love I wanted a garden. I conned visiting guests into casually bringing up the subject so as to encourage him it was a good idea. He still resisted. And then one spring day he decided a small little garden in our huge back yard wasn't the worst idea in the world. He chose the location. He decided the size. He planted the seeds.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I was mad. I refused to participate in it at all. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">What I had hoped was going to be a neat homeschool experience wound up bruising my pride and so I pouted. It was ridiculous really. I mean, I should have been celebrating that My Love had finally agreed to let us grow a garden. But instead I resisted because <b>I wasn't the one in control of it all. It was ugly</b>. In my heart (and out loud), I hoped the garden would be an epic fail. That would show him. I mean, in my opinion he did it all wrong and just plowed forward without any planning. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>God showed me instead.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">There was growth. In this tiny plot of land in the corner of our yard, plants shot up out of the rocky earth on top of each other and they flourished even without advanced planning by the sower. Tomatoes are growing on top of squash on top of bell peppers on top of carrots. But there is evidence of growth. God sure showed me. The circumstances weren't ideal. The space was too small. The seeds were planted too close together. There wasn't enough rich soil on top of the rocky dirt. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>But God grew something beautiful and delicious from nothing and it didn't have a thing to do with me.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">*****</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Something happens when you grow your own food. You do end up becoming invested in the process. You watch its growth and celebrate each developmental milestone.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then up pops a late bloomer that you weren't expecting. You cheer it on and water it tenderly hoping it will produce a crop equal to its nearby behemoth neighboring relative. You wait and you watch. What is going to happen?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then there is the plant that grows in size before it fully ripens. You would have been satisfied with the juicy red fruit two weeks ago and yet it assures you it has more growing to do before it is ready to be plucked from the vine. You wait and you watch. What is going to happen?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">There is the lettuce that first grew like a normal head and then changed later in the season and started growing tall toward the sky trying to reach closer to the sun. It almost looks too crazy-radical to eat and yet once cut from the earth the lettuce leaves look the same in the bowl as the previous bunch. I wonder what made it change course. You wait and you watch. What is going to happen?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Nearby the patio is a hanging basket of strawberries that blooms and produces successfully just in time to mold and rot on the thriving plant. I'm talking dozens of them. They grow in size along with everything else and then just as they start to turn red, they are consumed by the circumstances surrounding them. Moisture. Bugs. A beautiful worthless bountiful harvest. You wait and you watch. What is going to happen?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And then finally there are the blueberries. We planted five bushes around our patio watching them ever so slowly bloom and then berry and then finally begin to turn blue. It took months. We dreamed about all we would do with the berries. We planned for a bumper crop smiling that we were outwitting the usual high grocery store cost. And then one day recently, I looked out the school room window and saw a bird hop along the ground and pluck our beloved fruit right off the bush. I ran outside hollering and noticed our precious plants were nearly bare. The birds had found them and we were sustaining their life. And yet a remnant remained.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> We are in a season of life where we are slowly realizing that God is in control. It doesn't matter if it all makes sense or is pre-planned. He can grow something beautiful from nothing in the heart of a person. We watch and we wait trusting that something is going to happen and it has nothing to do with us.</span></div>
AMLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12027783303055176629noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3942574881326037130.post-12527605588527759962013-05-11T19:42:00.002-04:002013-05-13T21:38:44.802-04:00written on my heart<span style="font-size: large;">I honestly didn't expect to feel this way. In fact, I'm not sure I have ever before. Deeply loved someone else's baby like this I mean.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But it just goes to show that what he shared with us was true. Our friend from church said, "We had been praying for L for so long that by the time we saw her picture for the first time, we were in love." Or something like that. Don't quote me or anything.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Another friend's daughter has been home for two years now, and she already knows what I am beginning to understand. "Some babies are born in their Mommy's tummies and some babies are born in their Mommy's hearts!!" she said. She really gets it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It wasn't until I held God's answered prayer in my arms this past week that I started to see what they were talking about. How God can grow a love for someone through prayer that you have only just met. I held her as much as I could during the four days they spent with us. Often little things she did at a mere three months old would take me back to moments experienced with my own children. The sudden jerking movements of her appendages. Spontaneous smiles. Lint between little fingers. Memories that don't come to mind easily otherwise. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But the funny thing is snuggling this precious life didn't make me long for another infant of my own like it does for some. As I watched our dear friends bustle about the house getting baby gear together for a day's outing, it almost confirmed my desire not to return to those hectic days of diaper bags and strollers and front packs. Yes, JP, it gets easier. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Once again God used this angel baby to speak to my heart. Does she know what an instrument she has been in the building of my faith already?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I loved my talks on the couch, patio, car, and walking in the rain with my dear friend. "If God had told me five years ago that the journey would have taken this long, would it have helped?" she asked rhetorically. "I don't know." I'm not sure it would have. The waiting would have felt pointless. Yes, we would know the exact day and hour but I think we would all live differently (not relying on the Lord) if he showed us our individual big pictures in advance. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Yesterday morning (oh how it feels like longer), I took H out in the back yard while her parents were getting ready for the day and packing for their drive to the airport. The air was peaceful and the morning sun crisp. It was a precious time spent singing and talking to her as she sat nestled in my arms beginning to doze off to sleep. Praying for her life as I had been doing for years and knowing this little peanut was taking a bit of my heart with her back to California. Through prayer, God had given me a love for her that can't be explained.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We are in a new place in our family. A season that I hope to be able to write more about soon. One where you begin to wonder when the next rain is going to come and if the path we are on now will keep us wandering for longer than we would prefer.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But the waiting is not done in vain. It is not to make us suffer. And in fact, I praise him for withholding the big picture. I think I would be discouraged i<span style="font-size: large;">f</span> he announced the exact day and hour and realized it is still years off. I might even go so far to say I welcome the wait. Not because of all the wonderful work he is doing in us in the meantime (which he is), but because I know he is writing the names of faceless little bundles that will one day call me Mama on my heart. So when I see them--when I hold them--the love will be so deep and overwhelming because we prayed. I can almost feel the heavenly pen pressed against beating flesh starting to write.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I can not begin to describe how joyful it was to see our friends as parents. They are still entrenched in middle-of-the-night feedings and burp cloths and drool marks. But it looks so beautiful on them.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Happy 1st Mother's Day JP! You are an amazing Mommy. I love you!</span><br />
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AMLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12027783303055176629noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3942574881326037130.post-3826467249484592042013-05-04T23:45:00.002-04:002013-05-05T00:34:59.719-04:00while celebrating ten early<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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