The Real Story

One month ago today, early in the morning, I told my Dr., "It's miracle day!" And then he prayed with me. Twenty minutes later I heard baby Levi's precious cry. I was so grateful. Tears streamed as I waited to hold him. 

I was overwhelmed when I did hold him, amazed that our miracle was here, and that he was ok. I couldn't believe that I was holding him in our hospital room, that this was real. But within minutes they took him a few feet from us, to monitor his breathing. I soon heard, "This is not good enough for him to stay here." And those dreams of holding my baby and watching him all day on the day of his birth were gone. I became a visitor in the hospital, who happened to also be a patient. I had to be wheeled down the hallway to see my son, and our lives became ones of anxiously watching the monitors that were connected to his tiny body.  

Two days later we were visiting him in the special care nursery and were told that they'd found through x-ray that he had a small hole in his lung - that part of it had collapsed. "Collapsed" is such an ugly and scary word. They said they wanted to transfer him to OSF in Peoria so that if he needed a procedure he would already be there, versus moving him when he was not as stable. We quickly found ourselves in a whirlwind of packing, making phone calls, and doing all the little things that we had to do in order for me to be discharged a day early. The OSF team arrived and prepped Levi to be transferred by ambulance in an incubator. He looked so peaceful. 

I am so grateful for the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit at OSF. It is obvious that they are experts, and they do a wonderful job communicating with each other and with patients' parents. We were thanking God for such a solid place so close to home. After four days that felt like two weeks (don't underestimate the blessing of your own bed and shower!) we were told that we could take our precious Levi home. The hole had sealed up on its own, and after multiple days of questioning it, his numbers stayed stable when eating or upset. 

And then came the time at home. This is when I experienced once again the full realization that I am not a perfect mom, and being a mom can be very difficult. I'm not going to pretend that life has been nothing but cuddles, or that I've had a lot of time to watch the Olympics or make nice meals, or shower every day, or respond to texts and emails the same day I receive them, or post cute pictures on Facebook. It's been about survival, but I am feeling more like a human now. Levi is such a good baby. His grandmas say he is perfect. He rarely cries without a reason that is easily fixable. I am aware how fortunate we are, and so grateful. I have no idea how I'd cope with taking care of Silas and a fussy baby. 

Hats off to those of you who can manage to do the above! Just being honest that I can't. In fact, it took me pieces of four different days to even write this blog post.  When I told my cousin what I was writing she quickly responded, "I'm so thankful Jesus was perfect in our place and I don't have to be." Wise words.

Crazy hair on a non-shower day

I have shed a lot of tears. Tears from pain and soreness, of being overwhelmed with the daunting task of breastfeeding through complications, and of taking care of a newborn and active three year old while adjusting to extreme lack of sleep. But sometimes my tears are of pure joy! I look at Levi and I still can't believe he is here. I tell him he's a miracle and that we prayed for him long before he existed. I cry because I am so thankful for our family of four. It hits me hard and deep. I am so very blessed.  He is worth all the surgeries and pain, all the tears, wondering, and questioning God. He is here, and he is exactly who God intended for us. And we love him to pieces! 

I love watching his tiny fingers wrap around one of mine. I love holding him up and leaning my face against his and listening to him breathe. I love watching him pass gas and then smile about it. I love watching him calm down as a result of Silas shaking a rattle in front of his face. I love watching him gaze at Micah as he's being held in his daddy's arms. I love watching him yawn, and scrunch up his forehead. I love watching the hungry face...

turn into the content face. 

My precious sons. Each got here in a special way. Neither way was typical - both had their struggles. Even more reason to appreciate and enjoy them. 

You could say this family picture looks lovely but I'll keep the "realness" going and give you some behind the scenes info. Silas was experiencing some jealousy of his little brother and it manifested itself by him repeatedly leaving the picture scene. This shot was captured through both of my sister's efforts - one encouraging while she pointed the camera, and the other waving candy next to the camera, as a reward for him sitting and smiling! Yep. 

"I prayed for this child, and the Lord has granted me what I asked of him."

1 Samuel 1:27

Never Been This Way Before

I have been reading the book of Joshua lately, and really getting into it. It's one of the books of the Old Testament that should seriously become a movie.  So many wonderful action scenes!  In chapter 3, verses 3 and 4 say, "When you see..the Lord your God...follow...Then you will know which way to go, since you have never been this way before."  You can bet that I underlined those words as soon as I read them.  How often am I led somewhere that I have never been before?  In this case it was a place, but many times it is a new challenge, or experience that scares me, in which I literally have to just put one foot in front of the other because there is no other option but to walk forward.  Sometimes this "way" is a place in my heart, where I need to forgive, or let go, or be joyous in circumstances, or simply let myself freely enjoy a blessing.

I just really like that - When you see the Lord, follow, so you know which way to go, because you have never been this way before.

About 10 years ago a precious lady spoke to a large group and something she said has come back to my mind so often. She said that God does not give us a huge light to see way down the path of our future.  He gives us "a lamp unto our feet" (Psalm 119:105). Just enough to see the next step, maybe the next few steps.  He wants us to trust him, and we need to trust him.  Because we don't know where we are going.  But he does.

He does!  And he is in control.  That is beyond comforting.  I sure love my Jesus.

Bed Rest

Today is day 19 of bed rest.  It started with a worried Saturday morning call to my doctor's cell, in which he told me to "rest, rest, rest." Three days later I went to see him, which resulted in an official order of bed rest. I am doing pretty well. Sometimes (like a few hours ago) I have short lived tears for things like a return phone call from a nurse saying that my Dr. will not give me permission to go to my massage therapist.  She said, "we can ask again in a few weeks if you are better."  I don't feel like I am doing poorly, but I guess I am on bed rest, and pain and soreness tire me pretty quickly.  Bed rest is significant, huh?  I don't want to think about that.  So I cried for maybe a minute and then filled my mind with something happy instead.  I have also cried because I wish I could be like many other pregnant women who can fill their "nesting" desire and go hop in the car and buy precious little things for their babe.  But then I remind myself that we are fine, I don't need to compare myself to others, I don't need to go out and spend money just because it is fun.  And I happen to know two grandmas who will be perfectly willing to shop for some onesies when this baby is born.  I have also really kind of mourned my extra time with Silas - we had such great talks on the way to and from day care and I miss them.  I believe he has been making up for it through extra hugs and kisses, and that is just pure joy!

Hmm.  I just realized that I told you in my last post that I don't like when people complain about being pregnant and I just did it.  I guess I shouldn't judge anyone. Can't fully understand anything until I have experienced it myself.  Also, I never understood what huge hormone changes can do!!!

BUT...most of the time I am not crying or feeling sorry for myself.  I have so much to be thankful for!  I am thankful for my husband and son, who bring me so much joy. I am thankful that wonderful people have signed up to bring us meals twice a week.  I am so grateful for this, because it is taking a huge load off Micah.  I also have four lovely ladies that are taking turns coming out on Thursday mornings to do laundry, clean my house, and visit.  They are totally saving us.  Again, a load off Micah.  There are many people who call, email, or visit, and who I can call to pick up random items from the store.  Family has been great about coming and helping with Silas so Micah can do things like cut down a giant tree in our yard, or take a much needed nap.  I am also thankful for my sweet cuddly dog who keeps me company every day. I am grateful for our really good insurance, and for my God-trusting doctor who is protective of me, and prays for me.  I am thankful for our small house, where everything is close by, and that the weather is nice and I can sit in our yard and watch Silas play.  I am thankful that I can listen to my pastor's sermons online, and that although I really miss going to church, I can now pause the sermon to take notes, and not miss out on something that he said.  I am thankful for my oh-so-wonderful bed, and my super-duper comforting snoogle pillow.  I am thankful for the extra medications that are keeping this baby safe, for the people that invented them, and my doctors that prescribe them.  It is amazing how choosing to be thankful is a huge mood-lifter.

I am also so very thankful that I am not walking those incredibly long school hallways.  That seems purely impossible at this point.  It has been very strange not to be at work.  I feel like I am in a different world, because I know my co-workers are busy and probably stressed out.  I am still reading school emails and know of the forms they are getting told to fill out, and the trainings they are attending, and know I will be a fair measure of "lost" when I do return.  But I can't worry about that, or how my students are doing.  I am tempted, and sometimes I just do worry.  But then that verse comes back to my mind - "A heart at peace brings life to the body."  It makes me recognize that worrying causes stress on my body, and I know that is not good.  I can't control not being at work.  My dad told me that my only job right now is to listen to my doctor and let this baby grow. He is right.

And this babe is giving me stronger and stronger kicks (Micah says it feels like a fist bump) to let me know that it is there, and that it is priority.  Such a great reminder, many times a day.  This is where I am supposed to be.  For such a time as this.

God has given us this miracle gift of a child, and I have been given the gift of resting until this baby is born.  So...that's where I am.  Some whining, some rejoicing, some gratefulness, some discomfort, and lots of hope for what is to come!

What a gift

Tonight, Silas thought he was just being silly by putting a bow on his head.  But I immediately saw it as symbolic.  He is such a wonderful gift to us.

Friday was the last court date.  It was very emotional for me, I sat there and cried.  I wish his birth parents could be at a place where they could parent him.  But I am also incredibly thankful for the life they have given us.

The next time we go to court will be for his adoption.  That hasn't really set in yet.

What a journey this has been.  Even as I reflect on going to court, I see changes.  The first time we went, we weren't sure which floor we were going to, and certainly not which court room.  And we wondered which items of clothing may need to be temporarily removed to make it through security.  Oh, and I had my camera in my purse because I always kept it in there, and didn't even think of cameras being allowed. Micah literally ran back and put it in the parking garage, and then ran back to the court building, and then up the stairs so he wouldn't be late.  

Since then we have figured out that court typically runs late, and there is not usually a reason to hurry.  Every time, I have pulled into the parking garage no earlier than five minutes before court is scheduled to start (usually only 2 minutes), parked in the same general area, gone down the same stairway that I think is the fastest route, quickly thrown my purse in a tub and gotten through security like a pro, gotten in one of the elevators that only go to courtroom floors (they're faster!), and known that I am always going to sit on a bench and chat with everyone involved for probably at least 20 minutes, before they are ready for us in that same court room.

Somehow, going there has become a normal thing.  I used to get so nervous the day before, and especially the morning of, wondering what would happen, and if it would be awkward to spend that time outside the court room talking.  But gradually, through the many times I've gone (I have no idea how many!) it became a hangout time in which we laughed about the kids and told stories, both "sides" talking like we were out having lunch, not there to hear the judge's current decision on the kids we daily worry about, and pray, and hope for.  It has felt kind of like a family, or at least a social group...with the foster parents of Silas' siblings, his birth parents, and birth grandparents.  We saw each other often.  Not just at court, but when the foster moms came to pick the kids up from weekly visits.  And now I don't know.  We exchanged contact information, and I am thankful.

It seems weird, almost unnatural, that's it's over.  At the kids' last visit with their birth mother, I was walking Silas up the sidewalk to the agency.  He was holding my hand, almost running toward the door because it is a fun place for him.  It's where he sees his birth family, and runs and plays and laughs with them.  Going there every week for his entire life is what he knows.  Will he wonder why he's not going back?  To him, it is totally normal to go down that long hallway and spend two hours playing in a room, with toys we don't have at our house, and siblings that don't live at our house.  It's his normal!

We will have scheduled sibling visits two times a month until adoption. (We want to have them at our homes, so the kids can see where each other live.)  After that, it's up to us to get the kids together, with no accountability besides ourselves.  I hope we do it.  Life gets so busy, but it is so important for the kids.  I love watching them play together.  They have an obvious bond.

Well, I intended to just post that picture and write a couple sentences, but I guess my heart and soul had more to say.  I never thought that I would need healing through this, that I wouldn't want this process to end.  I mean, I do want to adopt him, I long for the freedom in adoption.  But I never really understood how I'd feel at this point.  Kind of raw.  I always knew I cared about Silas' birth parents, but now I think it is hitting me hard that no one is controlling how often we'll see each other.  Or even if we will.  That feels so odd, after months and months of rules and regulations.  I don't remember anyone training us how to handle this emotional part of the journey.

To be honest...

So I was just looking through the past few blog posts and realized it does not show the heartache that has been in my life.  There's been a lot, really, but some is too private to share or it would make others look bad, so this is not the place to vent.  I do that in my prayer journals.  Of course, if I keep up with my past, those journals could be published someday.  Scary!


But I do want to be real with you, as much as I can.  I have been scared, and angry, and WORRIED, and jealous, and stressed to the point that my body ached; for awhile it hurt to even move my neck.  That is crazy.  Right, it's crazy?!  This summer has been good for me.  It's given me time to reflect, and to think about changes I need to make.


Across settings of distress, I have a theme.  I put way too much emotional energy into worrying about things I cannot control.  It could be others' actions, or deadlines, or health, or perceptions, or timing, whatever.  I've decided to take two phrases to heart, and I think I'll type them up to go above my desk.


* If I can't control it, it just doesn't matter.
Not that I don't care, but it doesn't matter because I can't do anything to change it.  So don't worry.  I got this from a talk Ron Schweinberg gave to our district a few months ago, and it has stuck.


* Is it worth it?
Is the time/effort/emotional energy I would put into something worth the benefits it would reap?  If yes, then think about doing it.  If not, just let it go!
It can be really hard for me to say no, especially at my job.  This next school year I'm going to practice that word more.  Many times it's not even in response to a request from a person. I set such high expectations for myself that I just keep working and working in my perfectionistic way, until my life is my job, and I am so exhausted when I'm home that I can't function.  That is going to change!


There are a few loose pieces of paper that are in my Bible, and have been there for years.  When something really hits me hard, I write it on one of those papers.  I went through them this morning and was reminded of some things worth remembering!  When my dad was a pastor he used to call these "gold nuggets."


The more comfort we have, the less faith we have. (from missionaries at an orphanage in Romania)


God says, "You let me worry about ______.  You just be faithful."  (pastor Dave)


If I'm living in a fog, I haven't gone as far as God wanted me to go...sometimes because I haven't repented. (pastor Dave)


Trade these ashes in for beauty - this is a song, but I wrote down to "trade in my complaining words for words of life and beauty."


Worship is supposed to be a sacrifice.  David said, "I will not give my God something that costs me nothing."  (This one made it into my journal recently, just from memory.  I asked God why I like to do foster care and teach special education children, when both take so much out of me emotionally.  I'm thinking it's because for me, both are a form of worshipping God, so they both cost me much emotionally.)


Though you have made me see troubles, many and bitter, you will restore my life again. Psalm 71:20


Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD. Psalm 27:14


Those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength.  They will soar on wings like eagles, they will run and not grow weary.  They will walk and not be faint.  Isaiah 40:30-31


My times are in your hands. Psalm 31:15


I hope at least one of those "nuggets" encouraged you.  Sometimes during trials I feel like I am clinging to Jesus, not loving him really, but just clinging because I need him to get through a rough time.  I want to love him all the time, not just when I  feel that I need him the most.

Oh Mary!

Oh Mary, I identify with you more this year!


Pastor Dave has been doing a series on women of the old testament, that were in the genealogy pointing to Jesus.  This week ended the ten week series, with Mary, the mother of Jesus.  Dave used this piece of art to portray her life.

Just look at it!  It says so many things!  Her eyes.  She is expecting much that is to come.  She doesn't know the details, but she knows there will be some rough roads ahead.  
Jesus' precious little baby hair really struck me.  It just shows what a baby he was, a mother's little baby.  He's so tiny, it's crazy to equate this picture with the savior of the world.  Yet that's how God chose to save us.


One of my favorite Christmas songs is, Mary Did You Know?, and there is a line that says, "when you kiss your little baby, you have kissed the face of God."  Wow.  Can you imagine?!?  I can't get over this picture.  How he is leaning on her.  How you know she kissed his face all the time.  I probably don't even notice how often I kiss D's face, because it is so natural.  Can you imagine kissing your baby, who is not just your child, but JESUS?  Mary must have had so many emotions.  What would it be like to be his mom?  Pastor Dave walked us through some of it.  When he was 12 years old she thought she lost him for a whole day, but he was just learning from priests, asking them questions.  How scared did she feel?  She had influence over his first miracle, as she asked him to do something about a problem, and then told men, "do what he tells you to do." She watched him go from carpenter handy man to preacher and teacher. He was so often followed by crowds of people, to the point he sometimes didn't have time to eat a meal.  Her protective mother side may have thought, "you need to eat!" and she also may have thought, "just relax and tell these people you need some time to yourself!"  They had regular mother-son disagreements.  They were real.  Can you imagine her watching him die on that cross?  Many of his friends did not stay, but she was right there.  Close enough to hear his voice.  I can't imagine.


Being a mom (maybe not a real mom, but a foster mom, and I have to think my love is the same!) makes me identify with her more.  For as long as I can remember, I knew Jesus came to the world as a baby, was laid in a manger, grew up to be a man...but until this year I couldn't understand the precious sacredness of it.  What a bond.  She was his momma.  And he was an innocent baby, a boy that grew up and really worked at learning about his Heavenly father.  He studied.  He knew scripture.  He thrived on it.


I want that for baby D.  I want him to grow up loving Jesus.  I want him to crave the Bible and its truth.  I want him to be safe.  I don't want him to feel pain.  I want him to be a strong man of integrity.


And selfishly, I want to be his mom.


I should say what Mary said.  "I am the Lord's servant.  May it be to me as you have said."  That's hard.  I don't know what God has said about our situation.  But I know he's in control.  One thing is for sure. My anguish cannot be compared to what Mary must have felt!

Questions

Why, when I was hired to teach academics, do I spend more energy and time making and implementing behavior plans than I do writing my lesson plans?

Why do I so often work late or bring work home, and still can't manage to get a free weekend without yet again bringing work home?

Why do so many kids play video games way more than they would even think about playing board games?

Why do I wake up tired from my exhausting dreams of real life experiences?

Why do I worry, when God says don't?

How does my love and attachment for this baby boy keep growing every day?

What did I do with my evenings before he came along?

How does my husband put up with all my worrying, and how much I need to talk about it?

Why is God so patient with me?

Why do I crave quiet?

Why do I have so many to do lists?

How many days until Christmas?

Will I be able to relax over Christmas break?

Why do I analyze?

Why can't I just be?


Lord, help me trust you.

I try.

Every day I try, fail, and try again.


"When you have done everything, stand."

Kicked my butt

I just finished preparing for the Sunday School lesson I'm going to teach in the morning, and it totally kicked my butt.  I need to practice what I'm about to teach.  The curriculum says, "Explain that worrying and being afraid is the opposite of trusting God."  I know this, but can always use the reminder!
“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes?  Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Matthew 6:25-26

It also talks about the scripture that says God knows exactly how many hairs are on my head.  (And let me tell you that number just changed because I was playing with my hair while preparing the lesson and I accidentally pulled out a whole bunch of pieces!)  So if he knows the continually changing number of hairs on my head, he obviously knows my concerns, what I need, what I want, what scares me, what makes me nervous.  And he doesn't want me to worry.  He wants me to TRUST.

I typically sing little D to sleep, and a frequent song I sing is an old one I know from a Psalty video I watched as a kid.  Anyone a Psalty fan?  Some guy dressed up in a big blue song book costume...

Anyway, here are the lyrics.  Simple.  Important.  Trusting.

I cast all my cares upon you.
I lay all of my burdens down at your feet.
And anytime I don't know what to do,
I will cast all my cares upon you.

The lesson actually addressed this as well.  How do we cast?  We pray.  "Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, let you requests be made known to God." Phillippians 4:6

Refreshed

The piece of paper I had to buy online was a fishing license.  And because of the rain on Sunday we didn't even fish...but when Micah saw fishing poles in our car before we left on Friday, he guessed that we were going to my parent's time share in Branson.  Ha!  No!  I love when he guesses wrong on surprises!  We went to Wildlife Prairie State Park outside of Peoria, and stayed in this caboose.

We also went on a long fun hike - one of my favorite things to do is walk on nature trails.  It just makes my body and soul feel refreshed!  Here are some of the shots we took.

The first morning we were there I saw a daddy long leg spider and I was so excited.  Yes, you read correct, I was excited to see a huge spider.  It instantly reminded me of the summers when I worked at Timerpointe Outdoor Center, a camp for people who have special needs.  We saw daddy long legs all over that camp (even in our shower!) so they have become a sweet memory to me.  And this weekend was full of camp like opportunities!  No restaurants or shopping, just being in nature, grilling out, walking through God's beauty, and seeing his creatures up close.  Look at these...I never realized wolves are so big!  These guys got super close to us, and they seemed like sweet dogs.

Micah caught these two bald eagles looking straight at him - so cool!

We need to get away like this more often!

Scared

I've got to admit, I'm scared to go back to work in a couple weeks.  (I'm a special ed teacher.)  I've been cleaning out my school email inbox this week and there are so many emails that are about meetings, details that needed to be worked out with schedules, paperwork, behavior plans...even emails to myself to serve as reminders to make special resources for certain students, and more about meetings, and meetings...my job has so many meetings before school, during lunch, and after school.  And each of those meetings takes a lot of prep time - many times hours.  It really gets kind of crazy, and it makes me work late on a regular basis.
But now I have a child.  I know he's not officially mine but I treat him like he is and I will be so upset with myself if I keep working late and only see him for 2-3 hours before he goes to bed.  That sounds awful!  I went in for a few hours yesterday, and after a couple hours of organizing files I just wanted to take a break (a trip to Dollar Tree - my kind of break) but I made myself stay because I told myself, "Little D is being watched right now, I need to use this time wisely.  Focus."  So I forced myself to stay.  I'm really going to need help to do that this year.  I get so worn out that my scheduled planning time is often spent eating a snack, going to the restroom, checking my email, and maybe setting out materials for my next lesson.  That's about all my brain can handle so that's all that gets accomplished.  Somehow I need to be better this year.  I was thinking that if I put a picture of "little D" on my desk, that it will serve as motivation to focus every minute that I'm there, so I can pick him up at daycare sooner.  But another part of me wonders if I should be so rigid all day...how will I survive and still love my students if I don't give myself to reflect and breath a bit?  You teachers out there understand - our jobs are not just about planning and teaching.  It's often about teaching kids how to make good choices, giving creative consequences when they do not, rewarding them when they do, and making split second decisions that may affect a student's mood and behavior for the rest of the day.  We're always looking for situations we can diffuse before they start, all the while trying to teach!  It can be so exhausting.
So I'm scared.
I'm scared of how to balance being a special ed teacher with being a wife and mom.  I've always had high expectations for myself, so much of my time is spent at school.  And much of my evenings have been spent thinking about or preparing for school, while I'm at home.  Something's got to give...but I love my students so much!  Yet family comes first, right?  Yes.  I pray that God, my husband, co-workers, and other friends keep me accountable.  Help!

Vimla - better than I

Somedays, well most days, I go out to get the mail and am disappointed that I even walked out to the mailbox because all I find is junk mail.  Yesterday was a jackpot day where there were several interesting things to open (they all come in one day, don't they?) and one was a letter from the girl I sponsor through Compassion International.  She is from India and her name is Vimla.  We've written back and forth for the past few years, but I've never written as often as I should.  And I'm sad to say that sometimes the only time I pray for her during a month's time is in the second when I'm checking my online banking, and see that my financial support to her for the month has cleared.  How sad.  From what I can gather from her letters, she prays for me more than I pray for her.  It makes me disappointed in myself when I let (make?) myself reflect on that fact...because she probably needs more prayer than I do.  Maybe that's an assumption of her surroundings versus mine, but in anycase I am proud of her, and wish I was better.  One thing she said at the end of her letter sent a thud to my chest.  She asked if I had any specific prayer requests, and said that she would pray for me.  It was so precious that I took a picture of it to share with you.  Look at the last line in the second picture.

The thing is, I know that she will pray for me.  Oh, the beautiful hearts of children.  I recently read, Too Small to Ignore by the CEO of Compassion International and it pricked my heart in a way that ironically...I can't ignore.  I took a lot of notes when I read the book (I know, you can make fun of me if you wan't but I'm a note taker), and two of the ideas come back to my mind often.


*Listen to children.


*Every encounter you have with a child is a divine appointment.


I could go on a long tangent here about how people cut off children from speaking, and don't ask them questions about what they care about...and how it's hard to get people to volunteer to work in the nursery or teach sunday school...or how we say children are our future instead of see their importance now...but I won't. ;)  I'm just as guilty of these things - or at least of doing them with a good attitude.  And if I give without love to back up my actions, I'm like an annoying clanging cymbal, right? (I Corinthians 13:1)


Now, sorry to be bossy, but please reread those two points.  They could change a child's life.

Muddy brain

Do you ever feel muddy in the brain?  Your mind is going so many directions and you have so many thoughts, but when you try to put one, just one of them, into a clear sentence or idea you can't do it.  That's how I am today.  There are so many sad things that have happened in the past few days...everyone's talking about the Casey Anthony trial...and one of my friend's husbands is in the hospital with a situation that could be really serious, another friend was in the hospital for 9 hours (the hospital had lost power and was running on generators) because he hurt his neck diving into shallow water...and I heard last night of someone else with cancer - it just doesn't seem fair.  It's hard to know what to pray, but sometimes my prayer is simply, "Lord, take what was meant for evil and turn it into good." 
Take all of those "muddled" thoughts and pair them with my day to day wanderings (such as "little D" and the path his life will take), and it can make me a mess.  Much uncertainty.  So I went to my journal today.  I ended with a realization that really is not a new one.  I am a worrier.  I told God I'm sorry that I worry instead of trust.  I've done it for as long as I can remember.  He has taught me so much about trusting, but I keep having trouble really latching onto it.  I think it's because I like control.  It's stupid, really, when I think I can control something better than God.  He is sovereign, and I seem to have to continually remind myself of that.  An all-important concept that I somehow keep losing and regaining.  I shouldn't though...look at this:

and this

I took these last night, how beautiful.  How wonderful...I recently heard that if we use the word wonderful there should be wonder about it.  Strawberries are not wonderful and even chocolate brownies are not wonderful (although they make me very happy), but this sunset is WONDERful.  How does he think up and create such beautiful sunsets, different ones every night?  It's easy for him, he has everything planned...just like he has planned every moment of my life.  I need to trust.  And to have a "God entranced vision of all things" (Jonathan Edwards).

Writing...my old friend

I was going through some old legal pads today and found notes and drafts from my writing class from the spring of 2008, including the one above.  I loved reading them, the ideas were so free and creative.  I was almost surprised that the words were mine.  Writing was such a passion...what happened?  It is still a passion, but not one I've given myself time to enjoy lately.  So it's time to get back into the swing of things.  I'm ready to write!



Much of this blog will be my thoughts, but I also want a place to direct people who might wonder about the book I published (more about that under "a book of journals").  The title of the book is Meandering yet Anchored and at the time I called it that because I was meandering everywhere in my thoughts and feelings about men, but knew I was always anchored by God.  Now I see that Meandering yet Anchored could be the title of my life!  Those who know me know that although I can be crazy and fun, in my own category of “weird,” I also worry and analyze much.  I think I am constantly thinking about the future, from remodeling our house, to my job next school year, to health, to the awkward things I say and how I believe others are analyzing my words…I’m just a thinker.  I often wake up tired because my dreams are so intense and are about everyday happenings so they really feel real!  I’ve dreamt about being late to meetings because of things I needed to do at work before the meetings, and the details are so specific that I remember them clearly the next day when I am literally going about those activities!  You can see that I am meandering: my definition of the word is "all over the place" but the real definition is: to proceed by or take a winding or indirect course.  I meander, but I am also anchored.  Even when I don’t feel an intense minute by minute connection to God, I know he is there leading me, watching me.  And no matter what happens, no matter the trials I face (I have been through many, some intense ones that were squished together in a recent 2 year period), there is good to be found in life.  God is many things, and the overarching attribute is that he is good.
You are good, and the source of good;
      train me in your goodness. Psalm 119:68