There is a Time for Everything Under the Sun

Our third child didn’t get a baby shower.  Not because historically it’s improper in the book of manners, but because I just didn’t think my heart could handle it.  The last time I had been pregnant with a boy, my friends gathered around me as we ate chocolate and vegetables and artichoke dip, all the while cooing over adorable blue polka dot blankets and all things tender and tiny.  It had been almost four years since I had first become a mom, and with that bit of experience, this time around was a bit sweeter and much more relaxing.  With almost four years of practice under my belt, this was going to be a lot easier, a piece of cake.  I more or less knew how to prepare and what to expect.

I had let my guard down and was burned.  That wasn’t going to happen this time.

My friend recently posted how she had taken almost 1000 pictures of her nephew’s birth, and prior to that, she shared pictures of the shower she hosted for her sister, a celebration of the anticipation of their third child.

I am not one to weep over regrets, but my heart sunk a little.  Why hadn’t I allowed the many who offered to host me a baby shower just do what their hearts wanted to do?  Receiving help is difficult for me.  Pride gets in the way of receiving, because I am a damn strong woman and can do a hell of a lot on my own.  However, I’ve found over time how strength is beautiful in numbers, how relying on God and others is not weakness shown but rather confidence revealed.  Real trust, to the core…an ability to recognize most great masterpieces are made up of more than one color, a brick is solely a brick on its own, and a tree will never grow if the seed isn’t ever planted.

No orchestra is made up on solely one instrument.

And only now, after just having loosely celebrated Ryan’s 3rd birthday (Em was sick, he didn’t know it was his birthday or what that meant, really, and Jason and I were just home from Spain), am I able to understand it wasn’t out of guilt or feeling sorry for me that my friends, old and new, wanted to host me a shower. 

I realize now that a shower is to celebrate the anticipation of the little life about to enter the world, an opportunity to celebrate the woman carrying that life, the waiting parents, and a space for everyone to rejoice.  

There is a time for everything under the sun.  Pregnancy and the anticipation of a child is a time of celebration.  Only when news otherwise is relayed should the celebration turn into mourning.

There is a time for everything under the sun.

We don’t skip bridal showers because we think the poor couple won’t last past the infamous 7-year itch.  We don’t forgo weddings for the same reason.  There is no guarantee, on any given day, we will all make it to the 89 year old mark, so should we all skip cake and ice cream, all the years leading up to our day?   There is no guarantee, only hope and hard work, if our marriages will, indeed, continue happily ever after.  Just because a woman is pregnant does not mean the baby inside of her is meant for this side of Heaven.

And just because my heart was raw, carrying another son in my womb, unsure of the days to come, jaded a bit from loving and losing, doesn’t mean I should have denied my family and friends the opportunity to anticipate and celebrate the life growing in me and the arrival of our newest family member.

I’m not saying it was right or wrong to deny my friends and family a chance to host a shower for me years ago.  What I am saying is, in my selfish attempt to protect my heart from further heartache and disappointment, I shut down and didn’t even allow those who loved me to show their love faithfully as they had in the past.  They had celebrated with us, and also mourned when it was time.  

Birthdays, showers, anniversaries, holidays.  All of these celebrations, though marked with loss and memories, no matter how distant, are indeed, celebrations.

I'm not sure why I'm writing this 4 years from when my friends offered to throw me a shower, but I felt strongly to share my heart.  Maybe you are fearful to celebrate the anticipation of a child on the way, perhaps you have had adoptions fall through and it's scary to let your head and heart go there again.  Maybe fear is gripping you as you allow your heart to fall deeply in love again after the loss of a spouse?  I don't know.

I do know for several months I was fearful Ryan would die, just like his big brother.  And I had really, really, really, really, really fallen in love with Noah.  But I knew Noah was dying, and at the same time, I knew he deserved all my love and I loved him with all of my mommy heart.  I don't live in fear anymore that Ryan is going to die like his brother.  He will die.  I don't know when.  God knows the number of our days.  I do know this, however...I have jumped in with both feet in loving Ryan.  The ache and grief of losing his brother does not hang over me as I flip his curls through my fingers, rub noses, snuggle in our favorite chair while reading, and play choo-choo's in the basement.  I'm in love and it feels really amazing.

Every Single Day is a celebration of the lives around us, even our very own.  Is there someone in your life who needs celebrating today?

The only loss in loving is to look back and realize we never gave it our all.

10 Things I Hate About Me

I just thought of that title so, either this list will be a piece of cake and I'll need to make a part 2 and 3, or I will need to make some stuff up.

1. My upper arms.
2. My bent towards inconsistency.
3. How my self-worth is so closely knit with 10 lbs of fat and whether I eat "clean"or not...or not.
4. My eternal optimism for everyone else, but inability to offer it to myself.
5. How I can treat the people I love the very most with complacency when I feel fat and failure-ish because I eat a carb instead of not.
6. My unrelenting desire to make peace between others but my inability to make peace with myself.
7. The fact that I could even write a list like this.
8. That I am an isolationist when I don't have my shit in order.
9. How I will believe the best about you to a fault, even if you actually suck as a person.
10. #3 and #6

A couple of weeks ago I sat on the floor in my closet and cried.  I hadn't tripped trying to change my clothes, hitting my head on the dresser or wall or anything.  It wasn't due to a physical injury.  I was crying because I'm messed up.  I was crying out to God.  "How can my worth be so intrinsically connected to the fat on my body?!?!  I don't want to be this shallow!  I know You designed me to matter so WHY can't I break free from this endless battle that rages in my head and heart?  Why can't I just eat clean and be done with this friggin' 'journey'?????"

On Mother's Day my daughter gave me a poem she had been working on for a couple of months.  Here it is, written exactly as she did:

why i love you mom

you are funny

you love me more than stars in the sky

you comfort me when I'm sad

I can talk to you about anything

you are fun to hang out with

you would do anything for me

you care for me

you're compassionate

you're creative

you're loving

you have a good sense of humor

you're talented

you can find good in anything

you have a awesome sense in fashion

andddd you're awesome!!!!!!!!!!

you know me so well

mom, these are some the reasons i love you

Emily

I've never let Emily know how much I'm not a fan of myself.  I'm a good liar...except I'm actually known for totally sucking at lying.  I can't do it.  I have never said, "I'm fat or ugly or I don't like myself" in front of her.  But she's not stupid, in fact, she's quite brilliant.  And like I said, I suck at lying, so I know I'm not pulling the wool over her eyes.

This is NOT the legacy I want to leave...

So, on Tuesday I'm headed to see a counselor who specializes in Eating Disorders.

Because the things she loves about me are there deep down inside and they matter and they are the things I know make up my true beauty.  And I actually do believe these things about myself, the "beauty" my daughter sees, but what I believe in my head just hasn't quite made it to my heart and I think I need someone to help me get there...

The Tortoise and the Hare

When I think of turtles, images from Eric Carle's books come to mind since I have a toddler and these are on my shelves and in my hands most afternoons before nap time.

If I said the word "turtle" to my husband, I bet you a zillion dollars visions of pecans covered in caramel covered in dark chocolate would immediately come to mind.

We've all read it, had it read to us, envisioned it play by play.  I'm not talking about Eric Carle or nuts and chocolate, but instead, "The Tortoise and the Hare."

Sculpture by Nancy Schon, on display in Boston, MA

And it's funny how in my own life, on different occasions and varying settings, the story of The Tortoise and the Hare keeps crossing my path.

But I've always been a hare.  Good starter.  Up for a challenge.  Fired up energy and especially boastful declarations of certain victory with time to spare.  This mentality is one I've coasted on for years, gleaning past strengths as resource energy, sometimes it working seemingly in my favor.

But pride comes before a fall...and I'm the most prideful of all.

I've applied this hare mentality to losing weight.  I've applied it to prayer.  I've applied it to temporary dietary changes, expecting long term lifestyle changes.  I've applied it to leadership positions and relationships and solving problems and test-taking and studying and college and more things than naught.

Because the turtle was a schlow-mo.  And schlow-mo is lame-o.  It's just so...slow.

photo courtesy npr

But turtle is:

• Intentional
• Determined
• Steadfast
• Diligent
• Faithful
• Enduring
• Consistent
• Disciplined
• Strong
• Focused
• Persistent
• Comfortable to be turtle, pressing on, not too slow but steady as she goes, accomplishing much

Recently while taking a Financial Peace University class, Dave Ramsey said he was having dinner with a billionaire and asked him how he made all his money.  The guy said that everything he ever learned about making money he learned from his favorite book.  Dave got a pen in hand to write down the title and author so he could go get his own copy...because Dave doesn't have enough money?

Anyway, the guy told Dave that he reads the book every chance he gets and loves reading it to his grandkids...

...his favorite book, "The Tortoise and the Hare."

I have a dear friend whose journey has been modeling this very thing to me.  Her blog is called, "The Girl Who Cried Skinny" and her journey is one to stop crying wolf and to press on towards health through diligence and determination, by walking and making healthy food choices, one day at a time.  Inspiring is just the start of a snowball of words which come to mind to encourage and challenge me not only in the area of taking life and health one choice at a time, but allowing that same turtle discipline to flood the other areas of my life, especially in prayer and studying God's word.

Hares are:

• Intense
• High-strung
• Fast
• Jumpy
• Twitchy
• Lean
• Nervous seeming
• Quick
• Agile

Did you know the average life span of a hare is 8 to 12 years?

Did you know the average life span of a tortoise is 100 years?

I don't know about you, but I'm ready to slow down and start living my life with intention...because if I remember the story correctly, the tortoise wins.

Trekking Around the World

Remember this?

It's been a while.  I wouldn't expect you to, but I sure do.  One night, 5 years ago last November, we had gotten some yummy Chinese take-out and were sitting in Noah's room at The Children's Hospital.  As we finished up and started cracking open our fortune cookies, I grabbed one and said, "This one's for Noah."  If you can see in the picture, that's medical tape, the kind that used to keep tubes and crap attached to my sweet boy.  We used it for other things, as you can see.

At the time I remember thinking, "Oh how great it would be if You would heal Noah, God, and we could go all over the world (a lifetime dream of mine) and tell everyone of Your faithfulness, love and power."  This was my initial response to reading, "You will step on the soil of many countries."

It's because I had seen myself with a grown son...remember?  And so I naturally thought it was Noah...since he was my only son at the time and all.  And Noah did step on the soil of many countries, so to speak, just not physically with his two sweet little feet.  His blog hit every continent before he died, but that wasn't quite what I had been thinking...

Well, fast forward 5 years.  This post isn't about Noah.  It's about how my heart leaps out of my chest every time I see pictures of a sweet mama and her boy, so very much in love, who are on a journey.  It's about how I can't get them out of my mind, not because I want to, but because God continues to put them on my heart, all throughout the day.

I have mentioned him here before, but I'm asking you not to turn away.  I KNOW reading about a kid that is dying is nothing less than gut-wrenching.  It's HARD.  It SUCKS.  It's a volume of books filled with descriptive words that can't really describe the heartache.  I freaking GET IT!  It's why hundreds stopped reading my blog after Noah died.  I understand.  It's not as fun as Pinterest or Facebook or a hundred million other things.

But I'm literally begging you to let your heart pray for Jarrett, Chelsea, Peyton, Conner and Trek, as they set off on a journey of living life to the fullest, one day at a time.

You see, someone close to them contacted me to pray for them...she had read Noah's blog and couldn't stop thinking about some of the similarities.


Here is where my heart is wrecked.  We never wanted Noah to be stuck in a hospital bed his whole freaking life.  That was never our dream for him...but because of a whole hellofalotta reasons, we were stuck.  There were days I dreamed of stealing him out of the hospital and taking him home...but we couldn't because we didn't have home health care at the time.  It was a big mess.  The closest I got to showing him the world was this...whoopdefreakingdo!


Anyway, Chelsea's heart is living out what I wished I could have done with Noah. 


Am I living vicariously through them?  Only the freedom part...I lived all the rest already.

Either way, my heart is crying out for them to RUN, PLAY, LAUGH, CRY, REST, STARE, LISTEN, SING, NUGGLE, SMOOCH, HOLD ON and LET GO all at once. 


I pray for God's love to fill every corner of their lives with such fullness that this time in their lives will ever be etched in their hearts.


I hate what they are going through but if I had it to do over, which I don't wish for, but if I could go back, I'd run like hell out of that hospital and live whatever amount of time I had with my boy, free from the beeps and meds and tubes and tests and pokes and drugs and smells and unknowns. 


I'd run.

I don't despise what we went through, I do have to say, because 5 years later, I'm grateful to at least have the perspective that life is short.  It's time to live, today, right now, to the fullest.  Time and the people in our lives are literally gifts from God for our joy. 


It's time you, or someone you know, stop holding back.


Hug tighter.


Kiss longer.


Stare at your children.


Laugh your ass off.


Play on the floor with your kids.


Tell your husband you love him.

Tell him you are sorry.


Hold hands.


Turn off your freaking television.  Hell, throw the damn thing away.


Forgive.

Stop caring what others think of you.

Trust God sees the bigger picture.  Relinquish the control you think you need to have.


Smile.

Listen.

Play.

Dream.


Live in wonder.

Baby Trek Atlas may not physically touch the soil of many countries in his short life time, but the way he's living with his big brothers and mommy and daddy who adore him...well, he's experiencing more love than many do in a lifetime.  And, if you spend some time reading his mama's blog, I would venture to guess he'll have you looking around, wondering what matters, and making a few changes and tweaks to what is important. 

That's Trek, a 9.5 month old, teaching us a thing or two.  That's him stepping on the soil of many countries...

Life is short.  How will you spend it?

Little BIG Feet

If you don't know how much I love feet, scroll down to the bottom of this page...I'll wait...

Okay.  So, let me clarify, because by "love feet" I want to make sure it's clear which ones I mean:

• NOT stinky, sweaty, hairy, scaly ones
• BUT YES to: chewy, teeny, tiny, pink, plump, yummy ones

But seriously, I love the symbolism of feet.  Genetically we were designed to have two.  Whether we all have two or not, and whether they "work" or function as intended, doesn't disqualify us for the symbolism of feet or not.

You see, you, or someone you know, may have really big feet or small, petite ones, but it's the footprint you leave that will make the lasting impression. 

Five years ago when Noah died, he had the smallest feet in the family, simply speaking size here.  However, his teeny, tiny, chewy, yummy, sweet little feet left the biggest footprint on my heart.  His little BIG feet caused me to re-evaluate life on many levels and got these size 8's on the move.  Not just to move around and add chaos to the world, but on the move to start living the way I was intended and Designed to live.

Do I do it right all the time?  Nope.  I'm a student on this earth...

I just met another mom that loves feet.  And by "loves feet" I'm not so sure Chelsea loves them the same way I describe above, but it's clear she loves the journey and makes the most of her treasured times with her husband and their 3 sons.  And though from reading her blog I can tell she loved them well prior to meeting her most recent little BIG feet, it seems, once again, that a sweet little boy with teeny, tiny, yummy toes has "walked" into her heart and brought about even more joy, life and perspective, through love and heartache.

I was able to meet Trek and his Mommy and Daddy yesterday here in Colorado.  I even got to snuggle her little lover in my arms for a brief moment, trying to give Chelsea a chance to eat her breakfast, but Trek knows his mama and I handed him back into her loving arms.

Trek needs your prayers.  And so do his parents.  And his big brothers.  And their family. 

I have a crush on him, I'm not going to lie.  He is one handsome guy who gave me a few smiles and just reading about how he came into the world and how his life is inspiring others to live, well, you can't help but get a bit wrapped around his cute little toes.

Trek has a genetic disorder, one they tested Noah for.  His parents are so brave and strong!  They are going to spend his beautiful days here on earth building memories as a family.  As they do, please keep them all in your prayers!

The size of your feet do not matter...it's the kind of footprints you leave here on earth that make a lasting impression!

The Birthday Boy!

Jason and I hugged maybe a little more than normal yesterday. We just kept staring at our son, looking at one another, and then finally stating the obvious, "We have a one year old son. We've never had a one year old son before...Thank You, Lord God, for the blessing of Ryan Graves!"

Not trying to be morbid here or overly dramatic.

The truth is, becoming Emily's parents we were blessed with the awe and realization that nurturing a child is not only a gift but a lifelong mission of great responsibility. When Noah was born this understanding was only solidified, then taken to a deeper awe of cherishing each moment, one day at a time. The day Ryan was born I knew time was precious, even the day to day, un-glamorous stuff.

I'm not going to lie and say I am a perfect steward of every moment of each day. But, as Jason and I recently took the Love Language quiz, it was confirmed that our most treasured language is time. We both topped the charts in this area. (I HIGHLY recommend you heading over there now and taking a few minutes to assess your heart. Then, talk to your loved ones and friends about taking the quiz. We had Em take it and it helped us know what we already did...the girl loves to snuggle and spend quality time with people she loves.) So, wasting time is the ultimate blow to my heart. I don't want to waste yours, I get irritated when I've wasted my own, and let's just say, I'm not a fan if someone has overstepped mine.

All that to say, looking back over the last year, Ryan's first year of life, I've been beyond blessed with the opportunity to hibernate and spend time with a very precious little growing soul. I literally sing songs when he poopies, so thankful he has healthy bowels finally. I love greeting him in the morning, seeing his smile and smothering him with kisses. Snuggling him before bed for a few minutes, praying God's blessings over his life, God's calling and anointing in him to glorify God in all that he does, is one of my favorites times of day...crawling on the floor with him, playing catch and fetch...not just giving him a bottle since he's big enough to hold it, but nuggling him as he inhales every drop. So many things. I do not take these for granted.

I know from what we walked through with Noah and having met and spoken with countless other people who have walked similar roads that time is something to be cherished, it goes quickly, and it's nothing we can ever regain.

So, you've never lost a loved one. You still have healthy parents, grandparents, and your friends and family are healthy as a band of horses. That is totally awesome! It's something to rejoice in!

For the most part, that is my life, too! Yes, my mom has breast cancer but she's, "Stronger than your honor student." Yes, my dad is 66 years old today and can't lift a washer and dryer by himself anymore. I've got a healthy husband, healthy kids, and I'm currently the healthiest I've been in my life and I'm pushing 40...

My point is this...whether you've weathered tragedy personally, walked through it with another person, or only observed it from afar...are you stuck on the hamster wheel or are you thanking and living one day at a time?

Because guess what?! There will ALWAYS be financial troubles, broken bones, disease, torrential weather, infidelity, famine, heartache, disappointment, homelessness, someone else with more stuff, etc, etc.

But, tomorrow isn't promised.

TODAY!

Today, start small. Give a hug. Hold a hand. Smooch some lips. Read with your kids. Forgive. Stop, rest, heal. Listen. Pray. Dip your finger in the frosting and let your kids lick the beaters. Forget the obsessive cleaning for a day and discover that the time you spent instead playing a game is what will put a healthy deposit of love and security in your kids' hearts...your husband's heart.


Jesus said, "...therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow has enough trouble of its own..." Matthew 6:34

...and then, "who by worrying can add a single day to his life?"

TODAY! One. Day. At. A. Time.



(I lost my little white thingamajiggy that helps me upload pics...I am headed out to purchase one and will then show you how sweet Ryan was downing his very first allergen free birthday treat!)

One day at a time

The sixth chapter of Matthew is one of my staples.

I could read it every. single. day.

The five main topics it covers are: giving, praying, fasting, heart treasures, and worry.

One of my life motto's is to live one day at a time...not worrying about all the what if's? and unknowns. I HATE, ABHOR, GET SO CRANKY, when, in life, I or others, have gone off on rabbit trails about all the worst case scenarios that could possibly occur with such and such a situation. It's a waste of time to go there...it only breeds discontent, anxiety, worry, crippling, disease...

With all of God's word, I really take these words of Jesus to heart. I figure, hey, He knows a heck of a lot more than me, has had a bit more life experience (even if He died when He was 33), sees a bigger picture, and knows the whole future, so trusting that He doesn't make this stuff up might just give me the advantage in this life. The advantage over an Enemy that hates my guts and wants to steal joy from me.

I'm pretty Literal. Black and White. Right and Wrong. Rule Follower. But that is for me, I'm not projecting it on you or you or her or him. I often have inner turmoil when I don't do something just so. It's my own imperfect pursuit of perfection and I realize it's not right. It has its disadvantages, but it also has advantages...

...for instance, when I read God's word, I take it literally. When I read it I don't have a million questions racing through my mind whether I think it is true or not, whether God was just pulling my leg when He wrote this, or whether there's a catch to everything I read. No, He said it.

No. God is Who HE says HE is. HE is not a liar. HE is not a man that HE could lie. HE is truth. The Ultimate Answer in the pursuit of truth. GOD is Truth.

So, when I read His word, I trust that He has given it to me as a gift, a sneak peek, preview, forewarning, or guide to living here on earth outside of His physical presence. I take it literally because, since I don't live in The Garden, it's the next best thing to walking alongside Him and learning all He wanted to show us originally.

So, back to Matthew 6, and doing one day at a time...reading the five lessons that Jesus touches on here, all of them are summed up in the final two verses, 6:33&34:

"But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."

Em and I have been tracing back to my Catholic heritage a bit. You see, in regular evangelical circles, you don't hear "The Our Father" all that often, though everyone knows it. Well, Em and I have been praying it, or a version of it, every day...because it does what verse 33 tells us to do.

When Jesus told us how to pray, it starts out blessing God's name...not listing the 50 million things that we want or that need fixing on this earth. God knows this...

Hello! News Flash: verse 8...for your Father knows what you need before you ask him.

It's like putting the cart before the horse when we give God our grocery and "to-do" list before we seek Him, thank Him, and praise Him first.

It's a practical thing, but one I wanted to share. Trusting God and thanking Him, rather than worrying, is a practice I haven't perfected, but it's what I wanted to share because as humans we have a tendency to worry about all the what if's? The problem is, as much as we try, we can't control, or even begin to understand, all the outcomes or the processes.

But God does. And He is big. And if we can trust Him with the words,

"...your kingdom come,
your will be done
on earth as it is in heaven..."

...then literally taking one day at a time, though some may be easy and others excruciating, will become a new way of living life.

Random thoughts I just wanted to share...