The love of family

I have been privileged in my life to have been blessed by many wonderful individuals. Two particular people touched my life in such a way that I hold them in my heart with same respect and love that I have for my own parents. As I reflect on my time with them, I feel a need to share what an impact they had on my life.

Jerry & Juanita Daniel impacted my life profoundly -collectively and individually. When I moved to MVNC's campus in August 1998, they appointed themselves as my surrogate parents. Jerry is my mom's older brother. I grew up visiting them on holidays. Mom and Jerry made an effort all through the years to keep their families close after their parents died. After all, they had been through so much together, losing a sister, brother & both parents.

When I made the decision to attend MVNC, Jerry & Juanita were a small factor in my decision. I had fallen in love with Mt. Vernon when my cousins graduated from there in the late 80s. I wanted far away from home (that's another story in itself & it had nothing to do with my parents), & I loved the Christian college atmosphere. I also liked the idea of having family members close by. Juanita had recently retired from college & knew the ins & outs. That alone was a comfort for my parents.

From day 1, they were in cahoots with Mom & Dad. They checked on me every time they came into town. They talked with Mom & Dad often to update them on how I was doing - was I eating? Did I look ok? How was I adjusting? etc, etc.

 If Juanita was working, she took me to lunch. They drove in every Friday to pick me up for the weekend. I couldn't have survived without them. They loved me & spoiled me as if I was their own. From giving me a room in their house, to stocking up on my favorite pop & snacks - (Conn's potato chips, velvet ice cream,  & Neff's brownies were always among the choices) for the weekend. They always delivered me back to campus on Sunday evening armed with food, snacks, & anything else they thought I might need throughout the week.

My first few months in Mt Vernon, Juanita "church-hopped" with me until we found a tiny little church in which we both fell in love. And so we fell into a cozy family routine: I'd come out on Friday evenings and be greeted with a delicious home cooked meal complete with brownies Jerry had purchased for me at Neff's, a local grocery store. They would eagerly listen to all that had went on with my week; we'd watch tv and relax.

Every Saturday I'd sleep in, and every Saturday, Jerry would give me grief that opportunity had coming knocking for me at 8am, but he'd had to send them away because I was sleeping my life away :) Juanita and I would always find something to do, shopping, taking walks around their farm, taking drives for ice cream, something. We'd have another smorgasbord meal on Saturday evening and then play a game of scrabble before watching the Gaither gospel hour. On Sunday's Juanita & I would go to church, come home to another great meal, and then she'd go to sleep in her chair while Jerry & I watched westerns and talked about family and community members from "down home". He'd tell me stories him, Joan, David, & mom - stories about m grandparents and his schoolmates.  When he would get tired and go lay down, Juanita would usually rally about then, and we would talk about everything from books to her past and my future, to church, and family. We'd often watch home movies from their vacations or family reunions.

During that time, Juanita was my dearest friend and confidant. She did her very best to be my friend and stand in as my mother during that time. They even made me a part of Juanita's family - if they had to do something with her side of the family, they always took me along.  Jerry used to tease Juanita and tell her to be sure and introduce me a HIS niece, not hers :)

If I was arguing with my parents, Juanita would  listen, comfort, & offer her motherly perspective without criticizing me. If I wasn't feeling well, she came to campus to dr me. One particular time, I had a stomach virus during an awful snowstorm. They couldn't get to campus to take care of me, so Juanita called the school nurse, Nurse Tempe, to bring crackers & 7up to my apartment on campus.

When I fell down my apartment steps & severely sprained my ankle, they drove in to get me & take me home with them. When I couldn't manage my crutches very well, Jerry hoisted me up & carried me to the car claiming he didn't want me to embarrass him fumbling around like that. When the medicine i was given for pain made me sick, they took care of me in every possible way.

My parents rested slightly easier knowing Jerry & Juanita were there for me. because Jerry and Juanita were there, my parents were able to visit me at school. Jerry & Juanita always opened their home and looked forward to my parents' visits as much as I did.

Jerry acted tough and sometimes teased unmercifully, but he was truly a teddy bear. He loved me & I adored him. We didn't say it, because that's just not what we do in the Daniel family, but it was understood. When my car broke down, I called Uncle Jerry; when I locked myself out of my car, I called Uncle Jerry. He'd come into town just to get my old car & take it for tune ups and oil changes. He'd frequently check my windshield wipers, fluids, & brakes. When he had to spend a few days in the hospital, I'd go everyday after class just to sit with him. We had some of our best talks & visit in that short hospital stay. Jerry enouraged me in everything I did. He challenged me to be better than who I was. I loved Jerry every bit as much as I loved my own dad.

In reality, I could write pages and pages of the wonderful memories I shared in those 4 years. When I graduated from college, Jerry & Juanita were every bit as proud of me as my parents were. One of my most treasured possesions is the picture of Jerry, Juanita, & me at my graduation party. The week after I graduated, they moved back home, next door to my mom and dad. They were always eager to hear the tales from my first year of teaching. When Jerry passed away, he was planning a big trip for all of us for my first fall break.

In the time that Juanita stayed in Ohio furnace after Jerry passed away, we continued to spend a lot of time together. We shopped, ate, traveled, and talked often.

 Now Jerry is gone. As i write this, I am laying on a cot in my precious Aunt Juanita's room at the nursing home as she is nearing the end of her earthly journey. I am so grateful for the opportunity to spend some last moments alone with her just like we used to do. Juanita will soon cross over into Glory and reunited with her loved ones that have gone on. I rejoice for her because her suffering is coming to a close, but my heart is aching because I miss them. It makes me sad to know that my husband and  children will never know these two people that I hold so dearly to my heart.

My four years at MVNC were life changing on many levels. Jerry & Juanita Daniel rank high on the list of Mt Vernon highlights for me. I was given an incredible opportunity to form a special bond with my sweet aunt & uncle that is priceless.  They were more than an aunt & uncle - they were friends, parents, & cheerleaders. For that, I am grateful.

secure

When I moved into my house 7 years ago as a single woman, my daddy worked very hard to make sure that my house was secure. He installed new doors and locks with double key deadbolts, new windows, rewired the house, etc. It is so secure in fact, that I have locked myself out on numerous occasions. I had to make sure early on that strategic individuals had keys to my house to come to my rescue when I was locked out - invariably when I'm running late to somewhere.

For the past 6 years, I have had increased security at my house. My loving husband is very dedicated to the safety of "his girls" He is constantly checking locks and making sure our house is safe. I've accused him many times of OCD the way he checks the locks every morning and night.

This morning we were introduced to a new level of security. As he does every morning, Sweet Husband took my purse, keys, school bag, and phone out and started my van. He even loaded up all the valentine supplies that we had prepared for Anna's class and my class. He normally takes Emily to daycare, and I take Anna to preschool. Today was rare in that he left before I did. As his usual safety mind did, he locked the deadbolt on the way out the door.

The disadvantage to this sweet gesture is that Anna and I were inside the house with no key to get out. When you are locked out of your home, there is a distinct sense of panic. When you are locked IN the house, it's an entirely new level of panic! I turned the house upside down to no avail trying to find a key to get out. Since I’ve had to keep keys in so many places to get in, there were none in the house to get me out. Fortunately, I did get a hold of Gabe to come let us out of the house. There will be a key party tonight at our house to make sure all keys are in the right places INSIDE the house, and now that we are out of confinement, we’ll all have a good laugh about how only in our crazy life could we be locked inside of our own house. J

My Dad is a super hero - no really, he is!

First let me say that not all of my posts will be incredibly deep and insightful - sometimes I just like to share the "adventures" of raising my daugthers


My dad is a super hero. Like most daugthers who have good dads, I think my dad is the best. I used to think of him as invincible. When I had to watch his life hang in the balance several years ago at a Columbus hospital, I realized, for perhaps the first time, that my dad was human. However, that didn't change his wonderfulness - he became even more precious to me when God worked a miracle and allowed us to keep him a little longer.

I know my dad probably isn't perfect, but I adore him and always have. Kathy does too. Even as married women, we know our Daddy is the real knight in shining armor who will always be there to rescue us to the best of his ability. Several years ago, when I was on my "I'm never getting married" soapbox (go ahead and take a moment to laugh - especially those who know how hard and fast I fell in love with Gabe!), I used my dad as an excuse: if daughters married men like their dads, I could never get married because no one could ever hold a candle to the man my dad was.

Now, while Gabe is not entirely like my dad, he shares traits with him that make him a wonderful man, and he's working on his Super Hero Daddy status in life. :) Like my dad, Gabe is compassionate, loves his family, and is strong in his convictions.

Kathy and I have always been classic daddy's girls. We were his princesses. He would right every wrong for us if he could. Until the first granddaughter came along . . .

Now don't misunderstand me, I still adore my dad, but the day my daugther was born, I was dethroned as daddy's princess. Anna is the be all, end all. Poppaw's Princess. Poppaw's girl.

And like we have always thought, Anna thinks her Poppaw is the best. There is nothing he cannot do. However, she takes this to a new level.

Poppaw is the best playmate ever. He chases, plays hide and seek, goes on safaris, dresses up, pushes on swings, takes walks - you name it, he does it.

If anything at our house breaks, her Poppaw can fix it (and usually he can!). She added to this last Christmas when she worried how Santa would get into our house with no chimney. Her solution: Poppaw would build her one! I shared the conversation with my parents and we all had a good laugh. I thought the matter was dropped until my dad set out on a mission to build her a pretend fireplace. We called and/or visited every story between here and Columbus to find just the write template for it. When a bulletin board set was found, my dad set to work. He built her a styrofoam fireplace complete with a chimney and an insert for the fire - because it wouldn't be realistic otherwise. Anna was thrilled. Poppaw did exactly what she knew he could do. That wonderful creation will continue to be a Christmas decoration staple at my house for years to come.

As Emily gets bigger, I am certain she will feel the same way about her Poppaw. She already adores him, and there just isn't enough Poppaw to go around when it's time for our Sunday dinner at Mom & Dad's.

Anna's newest development - if she has pink Barbie mouthwash, she should have blue mouthwash with Ken on the front. (I don't even pretend to know where she comes up with this stuff!) When I told her we couldn't buy it because they didn't make it, she proudly informed me that her Poppaw would find it and buy it for her. Of this, I have no doubt. He'll find a way to present her with blue Ken mouthwash :)

Because she is the queen, and my dad really IS a superhero.

Job syndrome

Ever thought about how out trials & tribulations are really just  "Job Syndrome?" When we think of Job, we automatically consider his losses. When we go through trials, we throw around the phrase "I fee llike Job, everything is falling apart." But there are some significant things to notice about the story of Job:

http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Job+1&version=KJV

"And the Lord said until Satan, Hast thou considered my servant Job, that there is non like him in the earth, a perfect and an upright man, one that feareth Go, and escheweth evil? Then Satan answered the Lord, and said, Doth JOb fear God for nought? Hast not thou made a hedge about him, and about his shouse, and about all that he hath on every side? thou has blessed the work of his hands, and his substance is increased in tihe land. But put forth thine hand now, and touch all that he hath, and he will curse thee to thy face. And the LOrd said until Satan, Behold, all that he hath is in they power; only upon himself put not forth thine hand."
Job 1:7-12

In verserse 13-19, in a matter of hours, maybe minutes, Job lost his servants, his animals, his crops, and his children. Each time a messenger came with bad news, the next messenger arrived "while he was yet speaking". Now I'm certainly not a Biblical interpreter, but as I read that, Job didn't have a chance to resond to one tragedy, or grieve, before the next one hit.

"Then Job arose, and rent his mantle, and shaved his head, and fell down upon the ground and worshipped, and said Naked came I out of my mother's womb, and naked shall I return thither: the Lord gave, and the Lord h ath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord. In all this Job sinned not nor charged God foolishly."
Job 1:20-22


Two things really stand out to me:
1. God pointed Job out to Satan - Satan didn't go looking for him
2. After he lost everything, Job worshipped.

In chapter 2, God again points Job out to Satan. When Satan is given permission to strike Job's body, Job's wife advises him to curse God. Here Job says "shall we receive good at the hand of God, and shall we not receive evil?" 2:10

So many times when we have prayed about circumstances, we start to see answers.When those answers turn out just the wya we wanted,  our hearts fill with praise. And we even go so far to say things like "things are finally turning around"

What do we mean by that? We think our trials are coming to an end?! God is always working in our lives, and  in those "turn around" moments we tend  feel His peace and blessings a little more closely.

The bottom line is that Satan isn't going to take those blessings lightly. I Peter 5:8 plainly tells us:
"your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour"
God's blessings in our life do not make us exempt from Satan.
Satan is still tring to prove his own Job theory - he wants to prove that if he can push the Christian on hard enough times they will "curse God and die"

When Satan is allowed to pull the rug out from under us, God simply asks, "Do you still trust Me?"

That is not always an easy question to answer. Sometimes, we can lift our hands, and say "Yes, Lord, I'll praise you in this storm" and other times, we feel sorry for ourselves and wonder how God could possibly allow such troubles in our lives. Like Job's friends, we start to wonder what great sin we've committed that brought such destruction.

Sometimes, God has to knock us from our high horse and ask us in a whirlwind, "Where wast thou when I laid  the foundations of the  earth?" Job 38:4

That's when we need to be like Job, and confess to God "I know that thou canst do every thing, and that no thought can be withholden from thee." Job 42:2

Do you know God can do everything? Do you know God hears every thought and cry of your heart? Do you trust Him?

Ice cream thoughts

I've read a lot of Facebook posts lately about exercis and weight loss. My most recent reading adventure was while eating a bowl of ive cream as I read how hard everyone was working to lose weight and get in shape. Now I should clarify that I was eating the ice cream because I had a really, really sore throat. However, I also really like ice cream.

One might ask, "how could she do such a thing with no guilt?" others may be thinking, "how grotesque?! Doesn't she care about being healthy?"

Yes, I know I'm fat (or obese if you prefer the sugar-coated word.) Do I care about it? Yes, I most certainly do. Have I made any efforts to improve my weight? Absolutely. Does it look like I' m trying to lose weight? Nope, it sure doesn't. Does my husband care that I'm enormous? Probably, but he is too gracious and too much of a gentleman to ever say otherwise.

I have battled my weight my entire life, and I have went up and down like a yo-yo. Believe it or not 15 years ago, I bordered on "too thin" although at the time I still believed myself not thin enough. I did this by refusing to eat breakfast or lunch. Lunch was easy to avoid because I couldn't eat in front of other people. Avoiding breakfast was more of a challenge because my ever-wise mother knew exactly what I was doing. Many, many mornings I was not allowed to walk out of my house until she watched me et something. I could usually get by with eating half of an apple. Sometimes she would make me eat at least a piece of toast.

This is how I existed for he better part of two years. When I went away to college, I quickly gained my "freshman fifteen." Only my roommates know the amount of junk I consumed- I ate because I was lonely and homesick. Unfortunately, I continued that vicious cycle throughout college. The only saving grace of my weight was exercise. Despite my poor eating habits, I did try to exercise.

During my first year of teaching, my chalkboard was directly across from a mirror which meant I had to look at myself many times a day. I didn't like what I saw, so I worked hard to change it. I took kickboxing and went to Contours on a daily basis. I did this for 2 years until I reached what I felt like was a satisfactory size. I actually managed to mostly maintain my weight until I was married.

Now, I know what you're thinking, "here we go, the old happy enough to eat story." Wrong. Three months after we were married, we were very surpringly expecting. As some have pointed out, yes, after I got married, I did learn how that could happen. :) After having Anna, I was able to start losing weight quickly (that is one of the many perks of nursing). I never got quite back to my pre-baby weight, but I did come close.

In October 2008, I was surprised and heartbroken in a matter of days. I was expecting again and lost the baby almost immediately after finding out. We weren't planning or ready for another baby yet, so while it was hurtful, it was not life altering. In February 2010, after months of praying and trying I was finally expecting again. Planned this time, and joy abounding. That joy was short lived when I lost the baby 2 weeks later. The devastation and depression I plunged into that day are unlike anything I have ever known.

Sure, I've made good attempts to lose weight since then, but no matter what I do, I just can't get the weight off. Maybe it's stress, maybe it's health related, who knows? Or maybe it's because I still struggle on some days to get out of bed and find a reason to live. Maybe it's because I have to pour every ounce of my energy into living my life and putting up a good front that all is well, and I have nothing left for myself. Yes, I have two beautiful girls that are absolute miracles from God, and I am grateful for the mercy and grace I am granted each day that I am allowed to be their mother. But anyone who has ever battled depression knows that there is no rhyme or reason to when those dark days will rear their ugly head.

Some day, by the grace of God, I will conquer this: the dpression, the obesity, all of it. In the meantime, I will wear a wider suit of armor to fight through my daily life. I will rest in knowing that my heavenly Father (and my husband, I hope!) will love me no matter what size I am. I'll get around to the Battleof the Scale someday, but go today I will claim the victory that I was able to get out of bed, hug my babies, and smile & laugh with my family.

"in all these things, we are more than conquerors through Him that loved us."
Romans 8:37

Tough Decisions

We all have to make tough decisions n life. It seems as I get older that these decisions become more frequent and more difficult. As mostpeopleknow, Gabe spent over a year out of work. During that year we had many new challenges and struggles.

Before, Gabe and I were married, I worked part-time at the mall as a slew clerk for Christopher & Banks. I did this for extra money and to get a good discount while feeding my shopping and clothing addictions. At that time it was just a job - nothing spectacular. After we married, the job became an annoyance. I was working every weekend, going to work at 5:00pm on weekdays while Gabe worked until 6:30pm. We decided we could live without the j on since I was pretty well paying them to work with my clothing purchases. We also found out we were very unexpectedly expecting our first baby. So I left the store and never gave it a second thought. I visited occasionally and tried to somewhat keep up with my co-workers.

Gabe's first summer out of work, i made the very difficult decision to take on a second job. Anna had just turned 3. I went back to Chnristopher & Banks and applied for a job. They needed some summer help, and hired me. When School started that fall I continued to work at the mall. Gabe had been applying everywhere with no success in his job hunt. Annan struggled once school started with mommy being away so much. No matter how bad I hated to leave her crying each day, I didn't feel like I had any other choice.

What happened during those few months, I can't really explain. I built stronger and deeper bonds with my co-workers than I had when I worked there previously. Those girls became my friends and my support system. They listened to me, cried with me, and hugged me on my tough days.

What made my experience there even better was that for the first time in a long, long time I was good at something again. I loved helping the customers. I loved playing in the jewelry nd matching it up for customers, management visits, and store displays. I used the store computer with complete ease (technology degree should be good for something, right?) and taught a couple of the girls a few things to help them navigate the system more easily. I was the MC for the store fashion show and unofficial editor for anything that had to be written.


It was still difficult to be away from Anna and later, Emily. Yet, I continued to enjoy the job. Yes, I was exhausted. My feet hurt all the time, and I was a complete failure at all things domestic, rarely cooking, washing, or cleaning. I had an excuse now though. See, The truth was, I wasn't really doing those things before I took the second job. Grief and depression had consumed me. I was barely functioning as a human being, let alone as a wife and mother. I was a failure - not at all the Proverbs 31 woman I was supposed to be. I had even become a failure as a teacher. I'm ashamed to admit that I did just enough in my teaching career to get by. I had lost all interest in everything, yet being a store clerk was a tiny glimmer of hope that i might still be somewhat of a productive member of society.

Early in the fall, th Lord began dealing with me to leave the job at the store. I battled with this and even sought counsel from Christian friends. I finally convinced myself that it would be better for my family if I continued to work. After all,even working only 4 or 5 hours a week was enough to make the van payment.

I had prayed about the situation, didn't like the answer and made my own decision instead. I had done this distinct act of disobedience durin another time in my life,and I still bear the emotional scars from not following God's direction. Choosing not to do wht God has clearly directed never ends well. Even though I chose to stay at the part-time job, I began to resent my husband that I was alwasys so tired and missing so much time with my kids. It was not pretty in our home. I was grouchy, mean,and had a very short fuse. During one particular "outburst" The husband said "it's time for you to give up the mall job. It's not worth it anymore. God has provided a good job for me, and you don't need to do this anymore. Please turn in your notice this week." Another failure? I didn't bother to discuss with my husband my decision to stay at the store all those months before.By now we we into theChristmas schedule,and anyone who has ever worked retail knows that you just can't quit that kind of job during the holiday season. After talking with Gabr and my store manager, we all agreed that I would work until the end of December.

I've been singly employed now for an entire week. I must admit, it's been nice to be home and get some rest. I do miss my friends, but I know they still love me,and understand why the decision was made. I am enjoying my girls. I am spending more time at school to get back to being an effective teacher. I am slowly but surely chipping away at the mess we call home.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have some reading to do in my free time - I hear there's a really great book that is a must read for the working mom. I may have read it in another lifetime. It's called Proverbs.

Victory in a waiting room

Written January 24, 2011

Twice a week I sit in waiting rooms while our 3 year old daughter participates in social learning experiences: Kindermusik and Ballet class. In spite of Gabe being out of work, we scrape and pinch to pay for these classes because 1. she loves them 2. we don’t want her to grow up to be the awkward, “not the brightest crayon in the box” that her mother is. She loves music and has been drawn to it since infancy. It was only natural that we enroll her in a class that would let her develop musical talent while preparing her with skills she will need in school. When the opportunity came up to enroll in ballet, Daddy hesitated, but Mommy (I) recognized the sheer joy in her face as our girly -girl danced and twirled around our living room. After a little persuasion, we picked up our second class of the week. She’s in love. She can’t wait to get to either class each week and enters and leaves with a melt-your-heart smile.

 

As I spend roughly an hour and a half each week observing folks in the parent waiting rooms, I find that I seem to be among the “social elite” – doctors, lawyers, etc. I’ve noticed before that all the other parents seem to know one another well and chat easily as we wait for our children. It seems as most of the families have at least 2 or 3 children all enrolled in some type of enrichment class. Originally, I wasn’t too affected. I would sit in the corner of the waiting room grading papers every Thursday while we waited for Kindermusik class to end. One day, I noticed a mother slip out during class and return in time for class to end. I later found out that she was participating in a Weight Watchers class down the hall. I decided if I was going to sit there for 40 minutes a week, I could try to improve myself a little in the process. So I paid my enrollment fee and now, on weeks that I can afford it, I go to the Weight Watchers meeting to pass the time.

 

Today, as I waited for ballet class to end, I became especially aware of the waiting room company as I sat across from a woman who was a stay at home mom who worked in her husband’s office at her leisure, I overheard her say. She had perfect hair and her perfect figure was very neatly displayed in her nice clothes while her neatly manicured fingers worked her iPhone, Starbucks cup in hand as she waited on her multiple children to finish their classes. . As I sat looking at her in awe and a little envy, I had to take a little self-inventory: there I sat: overweight, barren, with messy hair, shoes all scuffed, trying to hide my shirt stained with the quick dinner of tamales and chili I made before we left . My drink was a bottle of diet coke (that I had hoarded all weekend) in my purse to take to work at my part-time mall job after ballet class. I suddenly wanted the floor to open up and swallow me. I even confessed to Gabe that I was not sure I could sit there for 45 minutes each week in such small quarters with these folks. My inadequacies as a parent, wife, and person in general seemed to be screaming at me in that moment. Yet I took a deep breath and knew that I would continue to sit there each week with the people so much better than I for the look of joy on my daughter’s face.  

 

Don’t misunderstand me. I love Starbucks and manicures and would love to always look perfectly put together, but those are extreme luxuries, especially now. I wondered what troubles the woman sitting across from me could possibly have. In the instant that thought crossed my mind, I was deeply convicted. I know nothing of that woman’s life - her home situation, her health, or most importantly her relationship with God. My mind was directed to Psalms 73. A passage my very wise and wonderful dad shared with me not too long ago. I’ve read it before, but it is so much more meaningful to me now.

The chapter begins with the author’s rantings of unfairness – the heathen and foolish have “more than heart could wish” while he is “plagued” and “chastised.” In the cry of envy, the writer is also pricked with conviction [when] “I went into the sanctuary of God.” Just yesterday my heart rejoiced in the sanctuary of my God at His Holiness, Greatness, and continual presence in our lives. Humbly, today, I had to ask God’s forgiveness for my feelings of envy because I have a promise to which I can cling that is greater than any manicure or steaming cup-o-joe. I have a Savior, a Redeemer, an Intercessor, a Comforter whose arms are big enough to stretch out in sacrifice for me, hold me in hurt and weakness, and rock my precious babies that are now in His care. A Conqueror, a Lover of my soul who doesn’t care if my shoes are scuffed or my shirt is stained. He loves me in spite of myself.

 

“Nevertheless, I am continually with thee: thou has holden me by my right hand. Thou shalt guide me with thy counsel, and afterward receive me to glory. Whom have I in heaven but thee? And there is none upon earth I desire beside thee. My flesh and my heart faileth, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever . . . .But it is good for me to draw near to God: I have put my trust in the Lord God, that I may declare all thy works.”
Psalms 73:23-28

A work in progress

So many things about my life are a work in progress. There are so many works in progress that it's a bit overwhelming: my house, my weight, my job, and now this blog. My hope is to use this blog as a means to organize my thoughts, voice my heart, and maybe, just mabe find the inspiration to finish some things. Bear with me as I build my page.

The Story of Emily - part 1

Several weeks ago I heard a song that spoke deeply to my heart - it summed up the entire story of our sweet Emily in a way that I could never put into words. Just a few days ago, on a rough day, Anna said, "Mommy sing that song that it's in your radio - it always makes you feel happy."
It is my favorite song of our Christmas cantata, and maybe my new favorite song:

Faith Will Take you Farther
Sometimes faith will lead you to trust a promise that's illogical
Somtimes faith will lead you to cling to hopes that seem impossible
So often faith looks foolish, a leap into the dark
but that's not how it is for the believing heart

And when all your dreams have fallen through, and your plans come crashing in on you
Don't lose hope, no matter how it seems
Cause faith will hold you closer
Faith will keep you safer
Faith will take you farther than you dream

Doubt will always whisper there's no one there to catch you when you fall
Fear will come to rob you of  any chance to see a miracle
So trust the One who made you, Who's word won't let you down
Cause trusting in His grace is where your strength is found

And when all your dreams have fallen through, and your plans come crashing in on you
Don't lose hope, no matter how it seems
Cause faith will hold you closer
Faith will keep you safer
Faith will take you farther than you dream . . .
 Father than you dream
This sums up the story of Emily - it was a complete act of faith that we stepped out to follow God's leading to adopt - He knew our precious baby girl was waiting for us :) as the song says, faith will lead you to the illogical - nothing seemed right about our timing to start the adoption journey, but we knew we had to. There was an urgency in my heart to get that paperwork in that I simply cannot explain.

Our dreams had come crashing down when we our second & third pregnancies ended tragically. My heart broke in an unexplainable way with the third preganancy. I fell into the darkness of depression that seemed to consume me. No, they couldn't tell me why I lost my babies.

Our life plans fell through when Gabe went over a year without a job, and we could just never get ahead financially.
It was completely illogical for us to take such a drastic step of faith and even apply for adoption.

But we did. On January 15th, we met with Heart to Home Adoption Agency in our home, and signed the premilinary papers to begin our adoption process. When I first started our paperwork, the thought crossed my mind, "we could have a new baby by Easter!" It was a fleeting thought, and unrealistic, I knew, but I tucked that dream away. It vanished with each expensive piece of paperwork we had to have. We hit a point that when I emailed our agency to say that we needed to slow down our process.We just couldn't balance the added finance of the paperwork. She was wonderful. She told us to take our time - there was no rush - it was a big process - our baby would be there when the time was right.

I still have the post it note pinned to my bulletin board where my dear instructional assistant wrote "call Gabe" on March 23rd. When my cellphone rang in the faculty meeting after school, and I saw it was from the adoption agency, my heart skipped a beat, but i convinced myself it was just regarding some paperwork. I stepped out to take the call. I'll never forget the words, "we have a baby girl, she's yours if you want her." I walked back into the faculty meeting, texted my friend across the room of what had happened, and tried to hold it together. At the end of the meeting I told my CRS family that I was leaving in the morning to pick up my baby girl. The cheers, tears, and prayers were acts of love I'll never forget.
When that unexpected phone call came that there was a baby that needed parents - we couldn't say no.When we agreed to make the trip to meet our prospective new daugther, we had 2 dollars in change in the cup holder of our van, there was no prospect of a job for Gabe, and we were struggling financially - to bring another child into our home was more than illogical, but in our heart of hearts we knew this was what God wanted for us. On our 3 hour ride to Elizabethtown, we went back and forth about the pros and cons of doing this - we couldn't afford it, our house wasn't big enough, our families would be beyond shocked and concerned simply because of where our lives had taken us up to that point, we could make this trip and it not work out, but the deciding factor - we knew God was leading, He showed that from the minute the phone call came, when folks came from everywhere with money, gifts, and prayer. We even discussed on our trip naming our amazing miracle "Faith" for there was no other way to explain the craziness of what we were doing.

God has humbled us to accept gifts from others. He has poured out unbelievable blessings from this act of faith - every penny was provided exactly when we needed it. Emily was 3 months old before we ever bought our first box of diapers - simply from God's blessings through the love and generosity of others. You can't tell me that's not a blessing from an act of faith - faith so extreme that the only explaination is that is  God-given.

I got my Easter baby. Following God's leading and taking a gigantic step of faith did lead us farther than we could have ever dared to dream.