Flippin Miracle Update

Here is the latest update on one of my best friends, the girl who introduced me to my husband, my sister in law, Ashley Flippin. We are all so very excited!!! 

Below is the email update:

Hey Guys, 

Today we met with Ashley's doctor to go over the results from her scans. We have lots of great news to share. Praise Jesus!

He said her liver looks normal now and the largest tumor which was in her lung is less than half the size it once was. He said now it just looks like a scar. She only has 3 legions visible in her brain and they are all small. The largest one is in her "motor complex" which he believes is why she still has trouble with her arm. Overall everything is smaller and there is no new growth. He said she is in "partial remission".  He wants to scan her again in 3 months and he said if she continues at this rate she will be in remission by the next scan which is in May. 

So she's gone from  "less than a year to live" even with chemo and radiation to possible remission in less than a year, without chemo and radiation. 

Isn't God amazing? 

Her doctor is going to set us up with a specialist to help with the infections in her feet. His goal is to not need to adjust her treatment. 

Thanks so much for continuing to pray with us. We love you guys. We will keep you updated!

Prayer Points

* Ashley would regain strength in her left arm (she starts Physical Therapy for it tomorrow morning)
* Ashley's feet to be healed so the infections don't effect her treatment 
* God would continue to heal Ashley 
* God would continue to use Ashley's story 

Thomas & Ashley

Cancer has tried to rock our family over the last several months. Ashley went very quickly from having some numbness in her hand to a hopeless diagnosis.

“Yet he saved them for his name’s sake, that he might make known his mighty power.”

Psalm 106:8 

He is doing just that. 

We are in awe and so thankful. 

Little Bird

Little bird slipped into the bushes. As I walked by I had to pause and listen to his song. It was so effortless and sweet. Good morning to you, it's a beautiful day, he sang.

I didn't stop once on the sidewalk, but kept walking slowly. I meant him no harm but as I continued walking down the sidewalk, he kept fluttering out of the bush and moving further along to another spot to hide. When we got to the edge of the bush, in a hurry he flew up to a tree across the sidewalk and hid at the top.

Was he afraid? If he was afraid, he had no need to be. I wasn't there to harm him, but just to pass by.

I wonder, how many times have I shied away from conversations or opportunities because of the façade of fear?
I wonder, how many times have I been creating something beautiful and paused because I assumed it was being threatened or looked down on?
I wonder, how many good ideas I have not explored because I was afraid of unknown outcomes?

Fear is smoke. It's not real.
Sometimes, little bird, the thing that you are afraid of is the shadow of something also really beautiful.

Side Effects

Hour one of lying awake in bed had me searching on Google, "side effects of Vicodin" to find out why I'm an hour into not sleeping and itching all over my body. It was confirmed and recommended that I take Benadryl to stop the itching. Good to know at 1am when I have no access to such. "Not breathing" is one of the side effects I'm glad to not be experiencing currently. I guess not sleeping and itching is a better trade off than not being able to move because I'm in pain.

Hour two of insomnia has me up and writing to you. I read an article in bed trying to hide my cell phone light to not disturb my snoring husband. It's called What it's like to have fertility problems in your 20's and it's about what it's like...well, I'm sure you understand. You can click the link to read it yourself if you like. It's from a fellow cyster, Candace Ganger, who writes about dealing with more than I have so far, yet I still can relate. I remember being told that I couldn't have children at 18 years old. I felt like the whole point of my life was ruined. Possibly a little dramatic, but I couldn't think of anything I wanted more than to be married and have a large family.

When I found out I was pregnant with my Sweetness, I was already 12 weeks along. Irregular periods, pain, nausea, mood swings, insomnia, exhaustion, skin problems, and the near impossibility of losing weight were my normal life. So how was I supposed to know that I had defied the odds? If I would have been walking more closely with Jesus, I'm sure I would have known. I don't know all of the reasons why He gave me such a precious gift into a toxic marriage when I wasn't living my life for Him, but He did.

I didn't deal with any postpartum depression that Candace mentions in her post. If I'm honest, I silently judged women that dealt with it at the same time that I gave birth. I never would have said anything, but I definitely had judgmental thoughts as I lied awake staring at the perfection in my arms. Maybe it was because I had given up on the idea of being able to have children, so I was just thankful for whatever time I did have with her. Maybe it was just my general view of life because of the things that I had experienced growing up with losing Brent, my mom, and being separated from my siblings. Maybe it was God just protecting my heart completely. I'm not sure. I still don't understand postpartum depression, but I don't have to in order to realize it is a real thing and grieve for those mom's.

Thankfully, I haven't had to have an ovary removed, and a full hysterectomy isn't on the schedule for me any time soon. However, I have to be prepared that it could be in my future. I might not have another baby. I think people like to be kind and hopeful and say that Jesus will give me another baby. But one thing that I have learned is that I can't presume to know His will. I am learning to move into friendship with God and realize that I am valued enough to have an influence on His decisions. (Listen to this podcast by Kris Vallotton, seriously) Yet, I haven't been told that I will be given another child. One of my mentors in life shared that in her own journey, very separate and different from mine, she was given the promise that every woman in the Bible that wanted a child was given a child. I desperately want to believe that that is true for me. Maybe I'm just guarding my heart? Maybe it's unbelief? Maybe I don't want to get my hopes up? Maybe that promise isn't for me? I'm not sure.

If I found out I was pregnant tomorrow, I would be ecstatic. Nervous for complications, but over-the-moon excited for another precious gift of life. On the flip side of that scenario, I am getting to a point for the first time in my life that I am ok with not being pregnant. Does everything in me ache to be a mom again? Yes, all the time. But near sounding like a lunatic, I have to tell you it's different this time. It's a passion in my heart and so strongly desired, but it's held in open and lifted hands to the One who created me. He knows my heart. He gave me these passions. He knows the purpose behind them. So I'm not afraid to cry out and grieve for what I feel is loss, but in the next breath I give my longing to the Sustainer of Life and I lean on truth.

Matthew 7:11God gives good gifts
Psalm 34:17 The righteous cry out and the Lord hears them; He delivers them from all their troubles.
Isaiah 45:2-3 I will go before you and will level the mountains, I will break down gates of bronze and cut through bars of iron. I will give you hidden treasures, riches stored in secret places, so that you may know that I am the Lord, the God of Israel, who summons you by name.

In the car on the way to Pre-K yesterday my Sweetness asked me, "When do I get bigger like you? It's taking too long." I took a moment before answering as my mind flashed back through so many memories from my first time kissing her precious face to looking at her now. There is no more baby in her. She is a full blown kid now. I answered her that she is growing everyday, and said that we would start tracking her measurements so she could actually see how much she is growing. She seemed satisfied with the answer and went back to singing jingle bells. Every stage that we have come to has had it's challenges, but every stage was one that I never thought I would get to encounter with her. She is a miracle, and I'm thankful.

If God gives me another child or two, I will be grateful.
If God does not give me another child, I will be grateful because I know that His will is perfect.
I know that God is good and wherever He is, that's where I want to be. Whatever He is doing, that is what I want to be a part of. I have never known fuller joy than to be in the center of His will in fellowship with Him.

Yes, I dream. I think it's important to dream. We were created for it, but I hold my dreams with open hands. I know that what He has for me is better than anything I could plan. And you better believe that He knows that if that conversation comes up between me and Him, He will hear my full passionate argument on the matter. Because He cares. Because He listens. Because He created me with the desire to be a mom.

I will grieve, but I will not dwell in grief.
I have questions, but I will not question His character.
I will struggle, but I know this is not my home.
It's all temporary - these struggles, questions, grief, and the side effects of this medicine.

James 1:17 Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.

Sometimes I get a little lost

Sometimes I get a little lost.

I used to take my journal to the mall, buy a hot latte and a cookie, and people watch as I wrote blog posts, stories, and random observations. Now I write in my journal in the small time frame in between dropping Sweetness off at school and my work day begins. It's no longer stories and random observations, but pleads for help and cries of praise to the God who sustains me.

Sometimes I get a little lost.

I have piles of laundry, piles of dishes, piles of paperwork, piles of kids toys, piles of bills. I can't do it all. I can try. I can get organized and prioritize the more important projects first. I can put work aside to spend time with Sweetness. I can remember to take a shower and brush my teeth, but then I walk back out to clutter and dog hair.

Sometimes I get a little lost.

I used to get lost in the pages of a book, or the wind in the trees at the park. I used to just lay on the floor and listen to good music. I used to have more time on my hands than I knew what to do with. I used to be able to make last minute plans with friends piling in my apartment. I used to have movie nights with my girl friends. I used to lay on the beach for hours and tan. I used to play sports and train several hours a day.

Sometimes I get a little lost.

I was watching her paint earlier today. She was rinsing the brush in the water and watching the color swirl in circles. As she was mesmerized by the water, I was mesmerized by her. She was so calm and focused. She brushed her hair back but a few strands fell down in front of her eye. Her plump little cheeks were rosy from the epic dance party that had just taken place.

Sometimes I get a little lost.

Sometimes I get caught up in being a wife, employee, and mom, that I forget that I am a girl. Once there was only me and my hopes, yes, but those hopes included a dream of the life that I live now. Those desires for a little girl come with the piles of toys and laundry. Those dreams of a husband, my handsome husband, come with the reality of dishes in the sink, and dog hair on the floor from our Gracie girl. I really don't mind it all, I just get a little lost sometimes.

Listen friends, balance is elusive. If we had balance, we wouldn't need Jesus. We will never obtain perfect balance of life, love, responsibility, spontaneity, fun, risks, etc.

I'm done getting lost. I will never find balance. It doesn't exist.
Becoming a mom to my Sweetness and a wife to my handsome husband is something I would never give up for anything.

We are not the sum of my faults and short comings. We are also not only the sum of one thing. We are allowed to be multiple things without being an expert at all of them at one time.

We are allowed to just be without explaining anything.

Getting Warmer

Your teeth are chattering as your feet sink deep into the snow with every step. Snow always seems like a good idea until you are driving in it or walking through it in the middle of the night. Just a couple more feet and you are there. The memory of the pictures of the cozy cabin with dimly lit lights and a warm fire blazing in the fire place is almost tangible. You fumble for the keys in your pocket but your bulky gloves make it impossible to identify what anything is. Only a few seconds go by as you quickly remove the glove, find your keys and unlock the door. The knob jerks, but the door slides open as you lean into it. Once inside you take a deep breath as an audible sigh of relief exits your frozen lungs. Leaning against the door, you can just taste the coffee and feel the fleece tucked around your lap.

Your eyes open suddenly. Why are you not warming up? You've been inside for several minutes avoiding the icy wind. Where is the thermostat? The kitchen, hallway, master bedroom, guest bedroom, utility room, storage closet, and entryway are all empty. The walls hold memories captured in frames, mounted antlers, a hand-carved wooden coat rack, and other various prized possessions to create an atmosphere of comfort, but no thermostat. The iron rack by the fireplace has mere twigs and pieces of logs that would barely start a fire let along sustain one for the night. There's no heat.

You walk to the center of the home and curl up on the couch staring blankly at the fireplace. You know, if God wanted you to be warm, then He would just make you warm. You just need to wait on Him to make you warm. Yes, wait on Him, and as you do so make sure you are grateful that you at least have a roof over your head.

Waiting still. A shiver down your spine moves you to stand up and walk around the room. Well, you know, if God wanted you to be warm, He would send someone to make a fire for you. That's it. Just go wait by the window for someone to come. Any time now. Tap, tap, tap, a branch outside knocks the roof in rhythmic pattern. Thirty-seven seconds pass as you draw stick figures on the window with what little heat is in your breath.

Ok, maybe you need a new plan. As you fumble through the drawers in the kitchen you feel a box. If your bones didn't hurt from shivering, you would leap for joy as your hands ran over the box of matches. The only thing that would make you happier right now is your arms outstretched to a fire already crackling in the fireplace. You look over at the twigs once again and sigh; that simply will not be enough. A rug on the ground, curtains hung from ceiling to floor, books on the shelf in the corner - you have options. Not great options, but they are options. You could just light the curtains on fire. That would make you warm, but it could also potentially burn the house down. For a moment, your running nose and visible breath almost convince you. You quickly put the matches on the end table before you make any rash decisions.

You have to think this through. If you go back out there, you are going to be cold. Probably colder than you have ever been. You will have to find an axe, and spend at least an hour out there chopping wood. There is no way you will be able to carry it back by yourself, at least not in one trip. Surely you aren't supposed to go out there and chop wood. The pictures in the catalog definitely didn't show a half frozen person chopping wood in several feet of snow in the middle of the night. You haven't received any formal training on this. What if something goes wrong? No one in your whole life told you that you would have to chop wood one day.

You will have to think for yourself on this one.

It needs to be done. You put on your glove and grab the door knob. What are you choosing?

Is there anything else you want to know?

I am daughter, technically the youngest and the second youngest. I am sister, cousin, friend. I am wife, mother. I am housekeeper, dog belly scratcher. I am driver, office manager, administrator. I am sunday school teacher, lover of small squishy faces and the coos that tiny angels make. I am sometimes called baby whisperer, but I am always just trying to comfort. I am more of a do-er than a be-er. I am logical, planned, comfortable with boxes. I am outgoing, friendly, open, conversational. I am a big fan of long, slow, deep breaths. In. And. Out. I am a little knowledgeable and a lot curious. I am strong, sort of. I am a documenter, thinker. I am an abstract art lover, but also a minimalist. I am contradictory in personality to some, but perfectly designed by One.

If you are reading this, hello.

There was no use, but he tried to straighten the creases out of the paper across his knee. He fumbled through his worn shirt pocket to find a dull pencil. As he hovered over the blank lines, his dirty and calloused hands shook.

"There is much I could tell you, but none that would change your mind from what they will write about us. Their opinions will become your memories of how it used to be as you memorize dates, names, and places. But only we know how it really was. This was not a time of war, although war existed. This was not a time of bliss, although we did experience joy. There is so much that we would have changed, if it could have left our hearts the same. If you are reading this, hello. Live your life better than we did, but just know we gave it our best shot."

He folded it several times over and opened the dented metal tin. His fingers gently slid over the few things that he had chosen to represent the years of memories he had made while growing up. How was he supposed to pick only a few things to represent a life of love, joy, adventure, and creativity?

He buried the tin in the ground, grabbing large handfuls of fresh ground.

As he walked away, he never looked back.

"There you go, lovely."

Snooze alarm.
What am I doing? I never snooze my alarm.
Snooze alarm again.
Get out of bed, seriously.
Snooze alarm again.
Okay, this time I'm going to just turn it off and get up.
Get up to let the dog out.
I should have put on a jacket. It's freezing out here.
Feed the dog.
How bland. At least we feed her steak every now and then.
Wake up the sleepy Sweetness and get her ready.
She's so warm and cuddly; I could just stay in bed with her all day.
Kiss the handsome Hubs good bye and get in the car.
Where is an ice scraper when I need one? Also, I wish it was this cold on Christmas.
Stop to get gas.
Why is she screaming in the car? Oh, she wants to play peekaboo.
Play peekaboo while strangers stare at me like I'm insane.
Drop peekaboo Sweetness off to school.
She didn't even really say goobye.
Place my mobile order for Starbucks.
I love this. I love this app. I love espresso. 
While driving, think about my Monday to-do list that turns into thoughts about my entire life to-do list.
There is so much I need to be doing better.
Walk in and request my order.
"There you go, lovely." he says.

And any failure I was thinking of was gone.
It was such a simple gesture that made a world of a difference.

Proverbs 16:24
Gracious words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the body.

Proverbs 18:21
Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and those who love it will eat its fruit.

What you say matters. Can you think of someone to bless with kindness today?

Insomnia, insomniaaaaaaa

Drop the beat...



Dum dum dee-dum dum dum da dum dum
Dum dum dee-dum dum dum da dum dum
Dum dum dee-dum dum dum da dum dum

Woahhhhhh

No more sleep in the night 

Can't even get it started

No relief, no respite 

From my mindless chatter 

Is there no end in sight?

Can time please just go faster?

Feels like I'm going insane!

Yeah

It's a thief in the night 

Stealing your good Zzzzz's 

Your bed feels like rocks

You can't get comfy 

The clock a device

More used for torturing

As the colon blinks in slo-mo!

Your mind is in insomnia

No counting sheep to pass the time

Insomnia

Your partner's snoring starts to rhyme 

Insomnia 

When can you just get some shut eye?

Insomnia

Insomniaaaaaa

Honey, I shrunk the cyst!

On July 21, 2015 I sat in a cold MRI waiting room with the possibility of a tumor in my back. I left the appointment with the miracle of no tumor, but the findings of some cysts on my cervix. Because the largest one was 9mm, I had to schedule an ultrasound to get it checked out. Yesterday, July 20, 2015, I sat in a hot OB/GYN waiting room as several people were called before me to go to their appointment.

The last time that I had an ultrasound I saw the little beating heart of my now vibrant 4 yr old. This time, it was completely empty. I took deep breaths to hold in an unexpected and overwhelming sadness at the vast emptiness. You see, I knew it was empty going into the appointment. I knew I wasn't pregnant, but actually seeing it empty when my last memory was immense joy at the little perfect heartbeat, was surprisingly difficult.

The ultrasound lasted approximately 30 minutes where I asked several questions and the tech showed me what she was seeing. She was very kind and helped put me at ease. When she said that she was done, my sadness was replaced by confusion. I asked her about the cysts and she mentioned the ones on my ovaries that need to be watched. That information was nothing new; I've had PCOS since I was 18. I asked her about the cysts on my cervix and she turned the screen to look again. It was her first day at the office and she wasn't aware of my history. I told her that the whole reason I was getting the ultrasound was for the cysts on my cervix, the largest one being 9mm. Her eyes widened and she looked again, then turned the screen so I could see. She said, "If there was a cysts that was 9mm, it shrunk, because everything I see is tiny."

You guys. My cysts shrunk. They SHRUNK.

PRAISE JESUS. He is Jehovah Rapha, the Lord who heals.

Next thing on the radar is my appointment next Thursday, August 27, 2015 to find out results of other tests that I had. I'm praying for healing, trusting His hand is over me. Will you join me in praying that my next appointment will have nothing to be concerned about?

Thanks in advance.
I look forward to updating you later!

What's the story?

A white knuckle grip and a shaking arm showed how heavily she relied on her cane.  Her feet slid against the concrete to put one foot in front of the next. It took a dedicated amount of time to get from the door to the end of the sidewalk. I couldn't peel my eyes from her; she was mesmerizing. White linen pants, and a light blue linen shirt buttoned all the way up to her gray wisps of hair.

She stopped. As she faced the tree there was a moment she just stared in silence. I feared she was lost until she took her glasses and phone out of her front pocket. She fumbled putting her glasses on and pulling the camera up, but she successfully took several pictures.

What was she doing there? What did that tree mean to her?

I imagined that she just got a call that her daughter's adoption went through. In her eagerness to finally be a grandparent, she was taking pictures of the tree to see if she could build a tree house or to put in a swing.

I imagined that this house was not in fact her house, but the house of her mom that just died. Maybe her dad is in a nursing home so she was taking a picture of the tree to get a quote to cut it down to get the house ready to sell.

I imagined that she was taking a picture of the names carved in the tree to remind her husband who she is and the love that was once so fresh in his now faded memory.

I imagined she is an artist who used to walk the streets and parks for inspiration, but she can't get around well anymore. So instead of giving up her passion, she was grabbing inspiration from what surroundings she could get to.

The thing is, I really don't know why she was taking a picture of the tree. I can ponder and guess and imagine, but unless I ask her what she was doing, I won't know.

Just like I don't know why the mom isn't disciplining her child like I would in the store.
Just like I don't know why that girl is emotional in church.
Just like I don't know why the store clerk was rude to me when I asked a question.

You don't know my story, but you can ask.
I don't know your story, but I would like to.

Sometimes it's a little harder

I was fine, ya know. I took my steps one at a time and saw beauty in the waiting. You can look at the history of my phone to see the texts that show my sheer shock of how ok I really was. No longer was I bursting into tears at the thought of my future babies like I had done for so long. As cliche as it sounds, a weight was lifted off of my shoulders. I didn't just walk, but I skipped through the valley and on the mountaintop. I danced in the rain with my sisters and brothers. Surprise overtook me again and again with how light I felt; so full of joy and hope for the future. Of course the mess would resurface. The enemy can't handle the freedom I was walking in. This is not new information, as the evil one is about as sharp as a block of cheese.

"The thief comes only to steal, kill, and destroy. I come that they may have life and have it abundantly." John 10:10

I have tried to be on guard, I promise. One thing that never gets easier is the pain that accompanies the snake's schemes. The Bible talks about how the enemy is against us, and to be on guard, but it doesn't detail what that will actually look like in your life when the enemy attacks. Because of how precious this is to me, I knew that it is something that the enemy would try to take again, but how do you turn knowledge into practicality?

Sometimes it slithers in under the radar. Randomly five different people every day of the week would excitedly ask when Sweetness would have a sibling, and every answer would get a little harder to get out.

I know God's plan is so good and we are trusting Him!
God's got perfect timing. 
Not right now, but maybe soon. 
When I find out, I will let you know.
I don't know. I really don't. 

Sometimes it doesn't sneak up on you. Sometimes like a bullet to the chest, tragedy strikes and you are left in a pile of rubble feeling like you made no progress at all. Sometimes you go to a doctor appt for an adjustment and a massage and you leave a different appt a couple days later with a report that says there is now a slightly bigger chance than you already had that you won't be able to get pregnant.

Then, for me at least, the pain and guilt rush in simultaneously.

God is good. 
But this hurts.
He has a plan. I trust him.
But I'm allowed to feel, right?

My brain goes to that place I try to avoid.
How can there be so much life around me, but not in me?

I am truly thankful to be surrounded by so much life. I see so many answered prayers, so many blessings that began as accidents. I adore them; the growth, the coos, the smiles, the cuddles, the growing bellies, the name reveals, the baby showers, the fears and struggles.

I am blessed, but I am also human. I don't want to know what happens month by month in the womb. I can't know. I'm not strong enough right now. Maybe in a month or a week, but not right now, not today.

So today I focus on His truth. His promise is life; not just life that is survived, but life abundantly.

"Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world. And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you. To him be the dominion forever and ever. Amen." 1 Peter 5:6-11

I will take a deep breath.
I will think of what I'm thankful for.
I will repeat truth.
I will praise Him because He is good.
And even if I do not receive this thing my heart desires, my heart above all desires intimacy with my Savior, so I will praise Him.
In the tears and the heartbreak, in the waiting and the unknown, He is worthy.

Like a Honeycomb

Beautiful clear skies spanned as far as I could see and blessed me with a light cool breeze. I slowly pulled up to the red light and followed my ears to the country music to my left. The windows were down in their old red cherokee. His left arm rested outside of the window in the sort of familiar way like he had done it for years. She laughed and ruffled his hair before grabbing his hand. She tucked her hair behind her ear, but it just fell out as she pulled her knee up to her chest in the seat. She gazed out of the window like she was looking for shapes in the clouds. She looked so peaceful and blissfully happy. The wind blew a few strands of her hair out of the window and that's when I noticed that her hair was gray with some shiny silver streaks. She smiled and looked my way showing the wrinkles in the perfect shape that revealed just how often she smiled. There was a breathless moment that I had to take in her beauty as I smiled back.

I wonder if she knows how beautiful she is? Does she despise those wrinkles when she looks in the mirror, or does she see them as evidence of laughter and worry from hard times that she overcame. Do her hands only contain callouses she tries to hide or does she notice how elegantly they intertwine with the hand of her partner? 

In this moment, I distinctively heard the question "This is how I think of you." 

I have to admit that I don't think those things of me when I look in the mirror. I criticize and make mental lists of all the things that need to change. But he sees me as beautiful. 

"Gracious words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the body." Proverbs 16:24

"Let no corrupting come out of your mouths..." Ephesians 4:29

The first thing I noticed was her laugh, and how she was so attentive to her beau, not the wrinkles and the gray. I think she does too. 

Waiting in Silence

I have tried to write. I have tried to post. I have tried.
But failed, or paused to put it more positively.
I blankly stare at the blank page. Blank, blank, blank. It's all I get! I can't get the words out. I have so many thoughts and ideas that won't cohesively come together to form content I deem worth publishing.

However, I can't just keep sitting here figuratively stuttering. I have to move. Writing is necessary or I feel murky and stagnant. Murky is a feeling no person should ever feel. We need to leave that to the swamps and the post 4th of July apartment pool water.

Whether it's pretty or not, here is the jist of my brain the last couple weeks.

I returned from the Dominican Republic a completely new and improved version of myself. My heart and brain were wrecked in the best way. I am working on a post recording my time there, but am struggling to get that one out as well. One of the huge things that impacted me from the trip was all that we take for granted in America. I rode home from the airport in my air conditioned personal vehicle. I took my hot showers whenever I wanted, and had fresh, clean, cold water to drink in my fridge full of food, in my air conditioned apartment with more square feet in my living room than most three bedroom homes I had just been in the previous week.

They were struggling to get food to eat and I was struggling to eat healthy and not eat too much.

Even writing that is so disgusting to me.

I decided then that I would take full advantage of the amenities that I have been so fortunate to be blessed with simply by being an American. I didn't feel worthy, but I wasn't going to let it go to waste. I decided to get healthy. I decided to take inventory of my materials and blessings and see how I could use them for good instead of burying them in the ground.

I began to work out. I ate healthy. I didn't spend money unless it was necessary or as a gift for someone else to bless them. I made good use of my time. I looked in the mirror and was thankful for what I saw. I didn't apologize for being me. I celebrated who God made me to be.

Every morning my alarm went off at 4:50am. I had the same routine and would knock out a workout listening to upbeat worship music. Beckah Shae helped me push through the hard workouts with lyrics about "going through the fire coming out gold". She called for "All my soldiers, all my warriors, risk takers, history makers, freedom fighters, and planet shakers" to "unite and shout a war cry" because "we are the revolution"! How can you not push yourself when modern day Braveheart is blasting in your headphones? My mind was sharp, focused, and motivated.

I am the revolution. 
This is the fire and I'm coming out gold. 
I have to get ready for the battle today. 

Every workout had purpose and meaning. When I started to sweat and get tired I would remember that it is His breath in my lungs. I pushed through the ever present annoying back pain and sore muscles. I left there stronger than I was when I walked in. My shirt was always drenched with sweat and often my eyes were filled with tears at weight of His glory I had just experienced. I was more confident, happier, and less concerned with what the outside world thought about me. A month went by and I was encouraged by some health nut friends of mine to check my weight and measurements. I knew what I weighed before I started, and when I stepped on the scale again I was surprised to have lost 10 pounds. My measurements shocked me with 7.5 inches gone! I was exhilarated. I was starting to like what I saw in the mirror and how my shirts fit. I vowed to not step on the scale until the end of July, which was one month later.

Early the next week I received a lot of comments on social media and in person about the pictures that I had been posting of my progress and workouts. Most of them were good, but some of them were jokingly making fun of me. Then of course I read an article that displayed several types of posts that according to the author are annoying and should be stopped immediately. Over half of those annoying posts are done by me on a regular basis like posting my baby's pictures, good food, fun places, couple pictures, #tbt, and gym pictures. After reading the article, my initial thought was that the author should just stay off of social media because the things mentioned are posts that everyone makes. However, it did rattle my cage a little and get me worried that I was annoying people or giving the wrong impression. I didn't post my gym pics from that day on. I felt weird now; judged, maybe? I'm not sure how to describe it, really. All I knew was that I didn't want to be the annoying person.

Through the next two and a half weeks, I struggled. I struggled to get up in the morning. I struggled to push myself while working out. I struggled to see strength, perseverance, and beauty when I looked in the mirror. I struggled to breathe. I felt guilty, ugly, useless, powerless. Suddenly I couldn't find things that I wanted to wear. I found it harder to process what I was feeling. I felt self-conscious all the time. My workouts became frustrating that I wasn't seeing much progress. I stepped on the scale almost every day and tears welled up in my eyes at how disgusted I was with myself. My muscles were still sore and my back pain was just getting worse.

One night I rubbed my husbands calves for an exchange that he rub that painful annoying knot in my back. The next morning we woke up and thanked me for how much better his calves felt. My back felt even worse than it did before he massaged it, which for my smart husband was an indication to go get it checked out. I went to see a chiropractor and nervously waited for her to crack my bones and hopefully prescribe me a massage. Through the initial meeting, she said that she would not be adjusting me because the painful mass in my back was not a knot. She guessed it was either a torn muscle that had separated from the other muscles or a tumor.

Wait, I'm sorry, what did you say?
I was supposed to walk in here and hear you tell me that everything was fine. You were supposed to adjust my back, send me to get a massage, and I would be on my way. But now they will call me to schedule a MRI? Is this a dream?

No pushing, pulling, of lifting more than 20 lb, and no running or jumping. I sat through electrode and ultrasound therapy on my back and texted my husband. He was shocked, of course, and asked a ton of questions. I answered all of them, I think. My brain wasn't really functioning with high quality. I left the office and was told that they would call me sometime by the end of the week. I tried to prepare myself to wait, but then they called me the very next morning. I scheduled the MRI for that night and powered through the day not even thinking about it. I went home and ate dinner with my family although I was so nauseated. My husband asked me if I was nervous and somehow I answered a simple yes without bursting into tears. At 8pm I drove to the MRI office, filled out the forms and waited.

And waited.
And waited.

I grabbed my journal from my purse and started filling it to occupy my nervous mind.

Cold, silent waiting room. 
30 empty chairs too close together. 
Traffic outside.
History of Green Bay Packers on TV.
Turning of pages by the receptionist.
Waiting.
Floral paintings.
Fake trees.
Marble floor decoration,
Lazy boy in the corner.
Bright lights
Hospital smell
Glass top tables
Beige walls
Empty hanging screw. I wonder what was there before?
Abnormally large door with abnormally low door handle. Wheelchair access? No idea.
Tech wanting fresh coffee.

It was my turn. I came prepared so I didn't have to change into a hospital gown. Flat on the table, ear plugs in, the stiff board slid into the enclosed tube.

"Can you hear me?" Yes.
"Try to relax" Sure thing.

I closed my eyes and relaxed the muscles in my body one section at a time until I was melted butter on the table. The loud banging and clicking was intimidating, but I think I might have fallen asleep because the tech came to get me long before it felt like 45 minutes had past. Either way I was out of there and began the waiting game once again.

Since I had scheduled my MRI for quicker than previously expected, the next morning at 9am I called the chiropractor the next day to see if I needed to change my appointment. To my surprise, I was informed that they had already received the results. My appointment at 2pm was kept and I would learn the results of the MRI. Not much was accomplished that day. My mind was in a little fog as I tried to lean into truth and give all anxiety to God.

Thankfully, I didn't have to wait long at the chiropractor. She took me back almost immediately and gave me the incredible news that they did not find a tumor in my back. I would say I felt a sigh of relief but it was more like a loud, sudden, popped balloon of relief. She didn't seem as excited as I felt on the inside as she thumbed through the pages to pull the report. No tumor was present but they did find multiple cysts on my cervix. She handed me a couple pages of what kind the cysts are, told me to get them checked out, and then proceeded to talk about the torn muscle in my back.

But wait, back to the cysts. Should I be worried? The paperwork says they aren't preventable. So are they normal? No, the paperwork says they are rare. More information on the cysts, please.

She told me that due to my car accident or maybe some other trauma from the past, I tore a muscle in my back and it has separated from the other muscles. Every time that I have massaged it, asked my husband to stick his elbow in my back to relieve the pain, or done a lot of heavy lifting that included my back, I have just made it worse. When I explained it to my husband, he pointed out that that is why the massage a couple days ago made me feel worse while his calves felt better. Fantastic.

My chiropractor is incredible, so when I asked she did talk more about the cysts. She did ease my worry a little bit in telling me that these types of cysts are not dangerous to my health, but ultimately, I need to go to a different doctor to get them checked out. There is a possibility I might need to get some of them removed since the largest one is 9mm. I made the appointment for August 4th, and have entered yet another waiting game.

Since the appointment, the awful feelings I had toward myself have vanished. I have felt strong again, and have been faithful to wake up and spend time with Jesus during my workout. However, a new set a feelings had formed in my gut that I hadn't experienced in a long time.

What if I can't get pregnant? If it's not in the cards for me, I know that His plan is better. Oh, but my heart aches to have more children. What if, what if...

It's fear of the unknown really. It's not a fear of the actual outcome, because I know that God has good plans for me. I know that He looks on me fondly and wants what is best for me and what will bring Him the most glory. It is my honor and true blessing to experience this crazy life and all of the obstacles for His praise. It's just the in between moments that are hard; the trusting, the waiting, the unknown. I trust Him. I will wait. I will repeat that "perfect love casts out fear" and that I am filled with the Holy Spirit who is the essence of perfect love, so there is no room for fear. I will repeat it until I believe it with my heart AND my mind. And this is where I will stay, in the precious place where His love has no sense of time. As I wait, I will sway to the music that His creation naturally exudes around me. I will lay the prospect of my beautiful brown curly haired, brown eyed babies at the feet of the Father and say, "Please, Abba. But if it's not your will, I lay them at your feet." And I will breathe the breath that He has placed in my lungs, and worship Him for WHO He is, because He is worthy.

Rest

Power down. Shut off. Break.
Pause. Relax. Take a breather.
Calm down. Stand Still. Tranquility.

Rest.

No matter how you think the earth came into existence, at one point there was a rest day. After some time, the lump of clay becomes a pot, the seed a plant, and the tadpole a frog. Much of the world is not a fan of the 'in progress' mode; I'm included in that bunch. I often find myself saying, "I don't like being in between things." The process is sticky, messy, sometimes painful, most of the time long, but all of the time worth it. However the satisfaction comes at the end of a diligent work session to smile with pride and say, "This is good".

Whether you are winding down from a volunteer event, marathon, work week, business trip, art show, or workout, it is absolutely vital to success to rest. Have you ever looked at it that way? Everything else operates this way, so why wouldn't you? You have to charge your phone, or it dies. You have to give your body food, sleep, and water, or you will not last. Why wouldn't your mind work the same way? Take a step back and look at your project, your day, your week. What about it was good? There will most likely have been things that were bad because we live in a broken world.  However, there will most definitely be things that are good.

Look for the positive. Fill your life with people that add to your life, not take away. Reduce drama and stress. Seek help. Talk to a friend. Have a glass of whatever, responsibly. Go hiking. Take a bubble bath. Eat something delicious. Sit and read outside in the shade. Go suntanning. Let go of anger and bitterness. Pamper yourself. Go shopping. Indulge a little. Stretch. Sleep in. Laugh a lot. Watch a good movie. Sit in silence and just feel the miracle of breath entering and exiting your lungs.

You deserve it, just for being you.

Reboot and Record

The point touches the paper as ink flows through the casing and an entire world is unlocked.
A world of endless possibilities at the tip of my fingers.
So why am I struggling to find the words to describe the chaos in my brain?
There's so much that begs to be processed but time eludes me.
Tomorrow my brain will refresh to be able to contain more information, but much of what was tasted and seen in recent past will be forgotten.
This is unacceptable to me.
I want to capture life entirely while being present in the moment with both eyes open and all other senses active.
Is this possible, without actually traveling with an ongoing live podcast tracking my every move and thought?

We shall see tomorrow.
Tonight I will reboot.

One minute and one second

Me: ok, night night Sweetness, I love you more than you know. 

Sweets: I want you to lay with me for one minute and one second!

Me: I need to go lay in my bed to sleep. I don't fit in your bed very well. 

Sweets: but I won't have a mom! I need a mom!

I happily stayed until she fell asleep. I laid there wondering how many more times I will get to watch her fall asleep while I play with her hair. One day she might not want me to stay in there with her, so for that moment I treasured those extra cuddles. 

As I laid there next to her, I looked at how her rosy cheeks were so plump and squished against the pillow; they are so soft like they were as a baby. I cherish things that make my very grown up 3 yr old a baby still. She had a couple of her silky strands of hair hanging in her face that I brushed away as she made a huge sigh of giving in to falling asleep. Her small hand with her long fingers was nestled up by her face so gently. I ran my finger tips over hers and she gripped them. I wonder how many more times she will want me to hold her hand. 

After she was asleep I pulled the covers off of her a little so that her fever wouldn't have an excuse to go crazy. I gave her one more kiss on her forehead and snuck out of the room. I crawled back into bed with my hubs quietly and laid there instantly missing her. 

And at 130 in the morning I still laid there awake thinking about her laugh, and the funny way she says things. I could't help but ponder all the ways I could have done things differently, and I thanked God for His Grace. I made plans to be a more patient, loving mommy. My brain spun a thousand miles a minute thinking of so many things, plans, mistakes, good memories, to-do lists, and funny stories. 

That night I prayed for mommies. The ones who dish out medicine at 1 am or give lukewarm baths to draw out the fever on the middle of the night. The ones who work so hard to give their children what they need often sacrificing their own sleep or desires or even just a hot cup of coffee. I thought of you as you rocked your baby in the middle of the night. I prayed for you as you stayed up late finishing school or cleaning the house because you chose to spend time with your little ones during the day instead. And I prayed for you, pregnant momma who was tossing and turning in the middle of the night. There are so many things that are uncomfortable during those life-forming months, but oh so worth it. 

Grace, and abundance of grace, to you.

Oceans

I'm sort of borrowing the idea of #musicmondays from my talented, hilarious friend Laurie.

Did you read the post about how we all need to Stop Singing Oceans?

This morning while I was listening, and singing (I'm a rebel, I know), to that song I remembered when I read that blog post. I agreed with it and I'm fairly certain I even shared it on social media. However, the last few months of my life have changed how I think drastically. I am a new creation all over again. My brain has been swapped out, and I have been given new ears and new sight. I have received a full, mind and spirit makeover and I have never felt better.

Sure, if you tell God that you will trust him without borders, he might take you to Iran. But he also might just ask you to wait a little longer to get pregnant, or be brave by talking to your kid's teacher about Jesus, or not giving up during your workout because the fit guy on the treadmill is killing it. It could just look like sitting still or smiling when you feel like there is nothing left to smile about.

Living in a foreign country does not make you a super Christian.
Nothing actually makes you a super Christian.
There is no goal to attain.
The thing we should be chasing is actually a Someone, a relationship with Jesus.

Sing Oceans. Sing it out with every ounce of enthusiasm and abandon that you have in you. Sing it until you believe it. Put it on repeat and examine what that looks like in your life.

I think that even if you are standing in the pew moving your mouth to the words, there is a possibility some sort of goodness is being planted that can blossom when you need it to. That is gold.

Keep digging deeper. Keep pushing yourself. Keep singing Oceans.

I'm Not Waiting

My alarm was set for 5am. My plan was to sleep until my alarm went off. Then when my fitbit buzzed it's soothing wake up call, my plan was to swiftly get out of bed, drink spark and rehydrate, spend some time with Jesus, workout for 30 minutes and then get ready for the day. My clothes were set out for the gym, and my drink prep was all ready to go. But that isn't what happened at all.

First, I woke up at 2:47am to use the restroom. On the way back to the bed, I stepped in a delicious pile of evidence that my dog's stomach was upsetting her. So instead of getting to just fumble back to my bed in the dark, I got to clean my foot, sanitize the floor, and prepare the bath rug to be washed in the morning.

As soon as I crawled back in bed, Ryot came in the room to tell me that the light on her clock had gone off and she wanted it back on. We walked back to her room, turned her clock on, and I reminded her that the light would go off in a minute. I told her that it shouldn't matter because her eyes were supposed to be closed. When my head hit the pillow a little after 3am, I was irritated that I was awake. I was lying there wondering why I was even awake and then I got a word for a friend. I grabbed my phone and sent it to her immediately and was shocked that she responded. We texted for a short while and then I went back to sleep.

I'm not sure how much time had past since falling asleep, but Sweetness was back in my room telling me that she was hungry. Again we walked back to her room where I reminded her that we are not Amish and don't eat meals in the middle of the night. She whined that she wanted to be Amish and I patted her back to sleep in between wimperings. I carefully placed every step back to my bed, not wanting to hit any more puppy land mines.

Yet again about an hour later, Sweetness was back in our room. She wanted to lay with me and tried to crawl in our bed, but we usually end up pushing my handsome Mr. to the very edge of the bed when she joins us, so we again made the walk back to her bedroom. This time I just didn't say anything and crawled in the twin bed with my Sweets. She asked if I would stay with her and I just said "shhhh" and fell asleep. I woke up maybe 3 more times really cold but realized that I still had the cover on me.

Maybe that's why my little sweets kept waking up.
Maybe she was cold.
Maybe she was hungry, even though she ate all of her dinner and some of mine.
Maybe she is going through a growth spurt.
Who knows.

Maybe I woke up and stepped in dog poop so that I would be awake enough to send some encouragement to a friend.
Maybe I woke up because the enemy wants me to be tired and groggy and use my terrible night's sleep as an excuse to not have unexplainable joy.

I don't think either of those last two maybe's are actually maybe's.

I am tired.
I am bummed that I didn't get to work out.
I am watching the count go up on my fitbit challenges and planning in my mind tonight how I'm going to catch up.
I will not let sleep deprivation effect my mood.
How I feel does not change the beautiful facts that I was a sinner who had no hope, but God loved me, sought after me, sent His Son to die for me, and pursues a relationship constantly.

Psalm 39:7 "An now, O Lord, for what do I wait? My hope is in You."

Are you waiting for a good night's sleep to put your hope in God?
Are you waiting for your cup of coffee before singing His praises?
Are you waiting for a new job, boss, president, etc before surrendering all you are and have to the One who created it all in the first place?
Are you waiting to be completely healthy before finding joy in all circumstances?

I think the enemy wants to keep us in a hold pattern.
Who will win our heart today?
Who will win our hope?
Who will win our affection?

Our hope is in the everlasting, all-knowing Creator who is crazy in love with us and is constantly working all things for good.

What are you waiting for?

I am on His mind

My dad died one year ago on May 2, 2014.

I needed his birthdate for applying for my Passport, so I looked up his obituary online.
Same for my mom.
At least I have the information, right?

I couldn't call him to ask. Or shoot him a quick text. I looked up the record of his death that is publicly available for anyone to see online. It's a strange place to be, really. The relationship that some people have with their parents is sacred to them. I can't have the same relationship with someone else's parent like they can. I'm not them. But now the whole world has the same access to the details of my dad's life as I do. Because it's not his life anymore, it's his death. He is minimized to a stone plate with a couple dates. Alive December 4, 1958 and gone May 2, 2014. That's it.

I was reminded of him today. I was deleting messages on my phone trying to clear up phone space and that's when I saw it. I keep it. I've tried to delete it a couple times, but can't ever push that red button. It's at the bottom of the list, from so long ago, and nothing is even in it. I just see his name. That's it. But that means that at one point he texted me. He physically picked up his phone and sent me a message or replied to one that I had sent. He thought about me. At that moment, he wasn't a display of dates. He wasn't just a beginning and an end. He was alive, and I was on his mind.

He's gone, but that doesn't mean that he didn't live. He is just now only alive in memories, the good and the bad. He can't breathe, or laugh, or share stories. Everything that was left unsettled in our relationship will remain to be unsettled, like dust unshifted under an old rug. The musty smell of a lost connection lingers every time I'm reminded of him.

I'm not even mad that my phone lost the content of the message. It wouldn't make a difference to have his words. What matter is that there is a spot for him.

What matters is that even though he's not here now, he existed once.
What matters is that I was on his mind at least a handful of times between December 4, 1958 and May 2, 2014.
And that is enough for me now.

It wasn't always enough. I spent many years crying myself to sleep wondering why he didn't want me, or why he wouldn't return my calls or texts. Over time I believed I wasn't good enough, pretty enough, smart enough, funny enough, whatever enough.

It was the foundation for every decision I made or question I asked. It still tries to creep up from time to time to question my identity, but if I am aware and on guard I can confidently silence the voices that tell me I am not enough.

"But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us...and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus." Ephesians 2:4, 6

"For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them." Ephesians 2:10

I am enough.

Because He not only says I am, but he shows me I am everyday.

I am "confident of this very thing, that he who has begun a good work in [me] will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ." Phil 1:6

I believe that for me, and for YOU, the Lord will fulfill his purpose for us, his steadfast love endures forever. He will not forsake the work of his hands (Psalm 138:3)

I am on HIS mind.