Brother #2 got Married

This past weekend one of my four brothers got married.
It was one of the most beautiful, Christ-centered weddings!  What a blessing to know that the baby I once babysat (we are 17ish years apart), the little boy who was our ring bearer is saved and starting a beautiful life with a wonderful lady.

 My dad and his girls, right before the wedding...from left to right...My daughter, me, Dad, my sister and her daughter.

 Two of my brothers.  Josh is the groom and Zach will be next to get married.

 Isn't she gorgeous?!?  Her dad gave the best "speech" at the reception.  I don't think there was a dry eye!  (By the way, she's a home schooler...see we're normal.  heehee!)

 Part of the fam, starting at the boy at the bottom, working clockwise, our nephew, my step-mom, brother #2, brother #3 and down to the fine gent, that would be my dear dad, the half man is my brother-in-law.
OH, Right to the right of my dad is brother #4.

Josh reading the vows he wrote for Heather!  They both had such sweet vows.  You can see a little of the gorgeous scenery.  Simply beautiful.  Perfect day.

After this shot of Dad and Debbie, our camera died.

Catching up

Sorry to have neglected my blog for so long.  Life has been beyond full and busy.

So, here is a short catch up.

I think I finally found a diet plan that works for me!

I have cut carbs (the bad ones) and sugars almost out.  Easier then I thought.

When I do eat too much of them (which isn't much) my tummy feels yucky.

Basically here's what I eat:

Bkft: oat bran and oatmeal mixed, sweetened with honey and cinnamon.

Lunch: A shake-plain yogurt, flax milk, a handful or two of spinach, bananas, papaya, and other fruit that around and a handful of peanuts.

Snack: a granola bar or something healthy

Dinner:  Pretty much a healthy dinner.

If  I "eat" for lunch I will drink the shake for dinner.

Believe me I have cheated plenty of times, but for the most part I follow this.

I have also been very faithful to exercising.

 I mainly walk at least a mile and a half five times a week.  Many times I walk double that.  I do run and am doing more of it!  I have yet to get the runners high, but know it is good for me.  So that pushes me on.  I try to change up where I walk.  The mornings have been the best for me.

I have lost almost 10 lbs. in three months sticking to this plan!  I would love to loss another 10.

 In other news, God has been moving.

We needed to get a bigger table.  We were able to switch our table for a bigger one with a friend!  Now we have more room for the child we will be adopting!  Total win-win situation.  I don't know if I told you but a few months ago someone gave us a car!!!  TOTAL blessing!

As far as the adoption is concerned:

We are done with our training!!!  We had our last class last night.

It was so nice to walk into the room knowing that we are done with this part of the process.

Overall, we learned a lot.  There was just so much.  If you go through the training and still want to adopt you are really serious.  They really push fostering and that is a whole blog in itself!

We met some really nice folks and are going to be getting together with them.  We want to see how their journey turns out.

Here's what we have done:

apply

finer prints

training

background check

references coming back

Here's what we still need to do:

homestudy

exams

(I think that's it.)

The whole process can be an emotional one.  For me the biggest "thing" is the unknown.

Not knowing who our child will be, when they will come, how they are going to act, how old, what developmental level, the whole down syndrome...

God is good and He is in control.

School is back in session and we have changed it up a bit.

The kids are still studying at home, just differently.

DD is studying for her GED and DS is doing distance learning.

So far so good.

In an ideal world

I have heard more than once that having children "naturally" is much easier than adopting.
While so far it hasn't been harder, it is definitely a different journey.

In an ideal world, two people fall in love, marry and start a family.  When you're pregnant you know where your baby is, you know, about, when you will get to meet him or her. 
I find myself thinking about our child somewhere out there.
I pray that he/she is safe, not hungry, not scared.
I pray that it won't be too long of a wait until we get matched and get to pick up our child, for all of our sakes.

In an ideal world, there is you and your spouse in the whole bringing a child into the world and your lives process.  Throw in a doctor or two.
With adoption, there's a whole bunch of people.  People who have your paperwork sitting on their desk, etc.
You have to pass the ball back and forth, hoping they don't drop it along the way.

In an ideal world, there wouldn't be any adoptions.
It hit me that we are benefiting from others misfortunes.

Another thing is when you have a baby, most of the time people are happy for you.  They don't say "Oh, that's great that you are pregnant..." and try to up the anty one or two notches.
When adopting they do.  "Oh, that's great that you're adopting and you want a child with Down syndrome.  Would you take a child with (name any form mild to severe handicap, mental and physical)?"  They proceed to make you feel guilty for not wanting to open your arms to any and every situation.

Here's where my relationship with God and hubby come in.
I know God has called us to raise Down syndrome children.  I have tried to shake it and can't.
I know He has a child for us already.
I know He will keep that child safe and give us what we need for that child.

My hubby is my anchor.
He is keeping me focused and not feeling guilty for not taking in every child they offer.
As he put it, "I can't see us having a typical child.  I see us with a child with Downs."

I am glad I can trust God and rely on my hubby.

How it All Got Started

Not everyone is up for adopting.  For me it started at around age ten.  My cousin James was in the hospital.  Why, I don't remember.  What I do remember is his roommate was a baby with all of his limbs broken.  I just kept talking to him, touching him, etc.  I didn't even pay attention to my cousin.  (Sorry James.)  I asked my mom what happened to the baby.  She said that his mom (a big woman) sat in him and broke his limbs.  Whether that was the real story or not I asked my mom if we could take him home.  Of course we couldn't.  The baby never left my heart.  How could someone do that to a baby?  I felt so helpless.

Fast forward, to marriage.  Hubby knew going into our marriage that adoption was something I would like to do and we talked about it here and there.  Most of the time it wasn't something real in depth, more just two people in love talking about things they'd like to do.  Dreaming, some would call it. 

This is the part where it gets hard to explain without writing a book.  So I may just do point statements as to how God changed/worked on our hearts.

*The need to adopt became strong, for me, again about a year ago.
*I was really trying to figure out what God wanted for my life.  Where He wanted me to go.  I know I wanted to help people, preferably special needs kids. 
*I wanted to adopt.  Hubby didn't.
*I started checking into going to school and getting a degree.  While most of that seemed interesting, I didn't have total peace about it.
*We got a call about one of my pregnant cousins.  The Dr.s told her that her baby may have Down syndrome.  They may be weighing out their options.  (Later we found out differently.)  Right then and there, I said "That's it. We'll adopt the baby."  From then on I knew God wanted us to adopt a baby/child with Downs.  (I will write another post about how God changed my heart in that direction.)
*I talked more and more about adopting to hubby.  He wasn't budging.  He'd politely listened like I listened to his hunting stories.
*As adopting was REALLY weighing on my heart and not on hubby's, I cried out to God to change his heart or take this heavy burden away.  I prayed this over and over and over.
*Hubby started to seem more interested, ask pointed questions about adopting, about down syndrome, etc.  He was so interested I told him more than once, "Why don't you just say yes, you're so close."  I really thought he was going to say yes.
*The kids knew I wanted to adopt and at one point a few years ago they did too.  Then they weren't too hip with the whole idea, especially the Down syndrome part.
*I tried and tried to get involved volunteering with people/kids with special needs.  With no luck.  Until my dear friend gave me a number of a family here who have 5 special needs kids (4 adopted).  We met.  I got involved with Special Olympics.  God confirmed that love for kids with Downs.  Our son has even taken a liking to two of the boys.  We talk about one them all of the time.  He is a character!
*About 4 weeks ago, hubby changed his mind.  I was devastated.  Ready to give it up.  I cried.  I went for a drive.  I begged God to change one of our hearts.  I couldn't bear to carry this weight around if it wasn't going to happen.
*July 2nd, hubby and I went for a drive.  He told me that God moved on his heart during my grandpa's funeral and yes we can adopt.  I have to be honest here.  I didn't get all excited, kiss him or anything.  I was shocked.  He had just said no three weeks earlier.  I kept asking him, "You're for real?"  "You're not going to change your mind?"  He was for real.

We told the kids the on Wednesday.  They knew it was coming.  They had mixed reactions.  But I have already seen God move on their hearts prior to this.  So I know He'll move even more.

So, why adopt?  Why us?  Why now, when we are in our 40's or very close to it?  Why "mess up" our life?
Why not?

Please follow our adventure in this whole process.

BIG Announcement!!!

Some of you know already.
Some of you probably suspect this news.
Some will be surprised.
Some of you prayed along with me for this.

I can't tell you how this news fills my heart.
Without further ado...because I can't wait any longer...

God has answered many prayers and I know He will keep answering!

Adopting a baby/child with Down Syndrome is our hearts desire.

The Baby We Prayed For - Going Home

part a, part b, part c, part d

Going back home was surreal to say the least.  Our house seemed emptier than before.  Quieter.  Robert and I feel onto our bed and cried.  It was the first time I had ever seen him cry.  He tells me that it was the first time I really cried since this whole ordeal happened.  Cry I did.  My poor eyelids weren't just puffy, they actually bruised a little.  Only one other time in my life have I cried so hard that my eyelids bruised.  During our first hours alone Robert did something that helped glue our young marriage even tighter together.  With the gentleness and care of a nursemaid he helped dress me.  He patiently took waited as I sat on the edge of our bed slowly putting one leg into my dark blue shorts and then another.  He was down on his knees filled with love and care.  It was like nothing else mattered, like we had all of the time in the world.
     Neither of us could escape the constant sound of monitors beeping.  Paige's heart monitor.  We hadn't realized just how present those monitors in the hospital were until then. For the next few days that beep, beep, beep would play over and over in my ears and heart.  It was a sound we wished we could stop.  That same beeping would sound in my eardrums every now and then over the following months.
     My mom and Grandma drove across state lines to come see us.  I don't remember just how long they stayed.  They cooked, cleaned, answered the phone, made sure I ate.    It did me good to have then with us.  They helped as much as they could.  How do you take your daughters pain away?  How do you help heal her grief?  They did it the best way they could, by mothering me.
     Meals were brought over the next week.  Tears were shed over the babies we each had lost and the hope of life moving on was planted.  I can't tell you what we ate, but I remember the faces, the stories and the love.  One of my friends made a small embroidery that said Paige in mint green thread and a heart below it.  She framed it in a delicate gold frame.  That sat on our bookshelf for some time.
     Another thing that sticks with me is the way my body reacted.  I still had post delivery contractions, that were almost as bad a the real ones and my milk came in.  Nothing to relieve them except time.  These were both something no one told me would happen.  I remember sitting on our rust colored sofa telling Doreen about the contractions.  She said they were normal and would go away soon.  My contractions stopped and the milk eventually dried up too.  Gone were any signs that I was just pregnant.  Any signs that we had just had a baby girl.

The Baby We Prayed For (d)

part a, part b, part c

With every visitor that came to the hospital, I had to suppress the urge, the desire to show off our new baby.  To let people ooh and aah over her.  Yet I knew that wasn't appropriate.  People from church, young and old, even single men came.  Each one came uncomfortably into our room. ( They had given me mine own room away from the maternity ward.)  Some stopped by with gifts of flowers cards, almond roca.  All stayed as long as they could and were as comforting as possible.  Some stayed and chatted, making us laugh, which was very needed.  One lady from our church had gone through the exact situation.  She called from our of state, to make sure we were alright.
     A particular group of young folks came in led by a single guy.  James was so uncomfortable.  James was our neighbor.  He was one of those guys you'd leave a plate for because you know he'd be stopping by.  I remember him standing against the wall with tears in his eyes at a lose for words.  I ended up saying something funny that broke the tension in the room.  He replied, "We came here to cheer you up and you're cheering us up."  Where did this funny side of me come from, especially at this moment?  Answer, the grace of God.
     The grace of God and the normal post-delivery hormone high I got was what carried me through those dark hours of lose, grief and confusion.
     My best friend Sophie and her husband spent the most time with us.  They were the ones who walked out of the hospital with us.  That day, those emotions are seared into my heart.  I remember leaving the nurses who started out as strangers became our friends, pushed my tummy, sat with us when they had a few spare minutes.  Being wheeled out with the candy and flowers and feeling like I was leaving something behind.  My baby.  Our baby.  There's nothing like carrying the baby you prayed for, for five months only to leave her.  I don't remember how much I cried those 24 hours, but I do know I cried getting into our blue Ranger looking up at the windows of the third floor.  I wanted to run back and grab our tiny baby and make everything all better, to go back to yesterday when I was still pregnant.  Go back to before it hurt so bad.
  

The Baby We prayed For pt 1 (c)

part 1, part 2

At some point between our arrival at the hospital and the arrival of Paige that early August morning, I remember Robert quoting Romans 8:28 "And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose."  I held onto that scripture many times that night/morning and still do.
     After I was all cleaned up our pastor and his wife Doreen came in carrying a bunch of beautiful red roses, that at some other time I would've oohed and ahhed over.  Doreen was woman with a mother's heart.  Robert and I had watched there two children a number of times. Her daughter felt Paige's first few kicks in my tummy.  And here Doreen was looking at me with such compassionate, caring eyes.  Eyes that wanted to hold me and make it all go away.  She was at my side when our nurse came in and told us that Paige didn't make it.  She was there to comfort and to strengthen.  Paige lived for 7 minutes.  She never cried and never had to suffer.  For that we are forever grateful, grateful  beyond words.  We still hold to the fact that if she had to go, we are glad she passed the way she did.  I can't begin to imagine parents who have to say good-bye to older kids. 
     Even after the devastating news, especially after the news, I wanted more then ever to see our daughter, to hold her, to see what she looked like.  When our nurse brought her in to us she was swaddled in a soft, pastel yellow receiving blanket.  All 1 pound 1 ounce, 11 3/4 inches of her were in that blanket.  We were not prepared to see a baby so, so not yet fully developed, so small.  Yet, I felt the same pride most moms feel while hold their first born.  As they placed her in my arms I noticed how fragile she looked.  Her skin was so thin we were afraid to touch it, but we did.  She had Grandpa's crooked pinkies.  Something every baby in our family gets inspected for.  Her eyes were still sealed shut.  Little brown eyelashes were forming ever so sotfly.  Her fingers and toes were still partially webbed, yet we could tell they would have been long and graceful.  She even had a few wisps of brown hair starting to grow on her tiny head.  It was a special peek into God's handiwork, that even at that very development of a baby, just how everything was perfectly formed and protected.  We also did the normal new parent,  "She has your nose" and so on.
     Though we will never know what color her eyes were or what her voice and laughter sounded like.  Was she a happy child, outgoing or shy?  Did she like to play dress up or play in the mud?  We won't know the answers to these questions, yet I have the answers hidden in my heart.  One day we will get to know.  We will get to hold her talk to her.  And that day will be glorious!

The Baby We Prayed For pt. 1 (b)

part 1 here

The next events were all a blur.  I got placed in a room.  A small birthing room with peach colored wallpapered walls.  Nurses, doctors, people seemed to keep coming and going, in and out.  Hooking me to this and to that.  So little was explained to us.  The nurses only told me to try to remain as still as possible.  All along Robert was by my side, my right side, almost in the recess of the room.
     After checking me and noting that I was dilated to a 2 and confirming that I was indeed in labor Doctor One came in.  With that we were finally acknowledged and things started getting explained.  "It could be this or that.  This could happen or that could happen." Dr. One went on.  "We are hoping the baby will be born in the sac so we can keep it alive as long as possible."
     "Keep it alive...as long as possible."  Thud.  Those words hit us hard.  I looked at Robert with panic in my eyes and pain in my heart.  I willed my body to keep the sac intact, to stop this from happening.  It didn't.  My water broke as I went into full labor a little after Doctor Two came on duty.
     Our midwife left after she had done all she could do.  Leaving us in this strange room with these strange people.  At one point a nurse rolled in a big machine I think it was an incubator.  Then it rolled back on out.  The scene was becoming all too real too fast.
     There was one nurse who stood out.  Kim was a tall, sturdy built woman with short dark brown hair.  I started to look to her as my anchor.  I needed something to hold onto.  She was our main nurse.  Though I don't remember her saying much I do know that when she did speak it was with words of solid, sturdy kindness.  Words that said, "This really sucks and it is hard.  You can do this.  You're going to make it."
     The labor was quick, not painless, but quick.  I only dilated to a 4, but that was all I needed.  I still had to push and to labor to get our baby out.  Once she popped out our nurse with the dark brown hair carried her away.  All we could see was a tiny, very tiny red baby in her sturdy arms.  The way she carried our baby is etched in my mind for all of time.  She didn't cradled our baby.  Her arms were bent, elbows together under her chest. Our baby lying where her arms met.
     Everything in that room the whole time was quiet, clinical, like no one wanted to be there doing this, living this.
     As I watched our baby being carried away to the nursery or wherever they took babies born too early, I remember asking whether we had a boy or a girl.  A girl. Our girl.  I am sure I prayed, we prayed throughout the whole ordeal.  I am sure we held each others hands, talked a bit, trying to make sense of it all.  I know I wanted to see her, to hold her, touch her.  While at the same time I wanted the doctors and nurses to do all they could to keep our baby alive.  To get her stabilized so she could make it.

The Baby We Prayed For pt 1

I got stirred again to write about our kid's birth stories and pour out my heart.  I started this morning and have 5 1/2 front and back handwritten pages done.  And I am not even close to being done!

Here's how is goes.  This is the rough draft that maybe you'll read in a published book one day!  heehee

"Just wait on God", "It's all in God's timing", a couple of ladies would tell me when I told them how bad I wanted to have our first baby.  I was ready.

     I will never forget that day, that night.  As I read and reread through the pages of What to Expect When You're Expecting over and over, looking for answers.  I knew something wasn't right.  I knew it in my heart.  I called our midwife and explained to her what  I was feeling,  I didn't really know what it was or quite how to explain it, other then the tightness in my belly and the urges I in my pregnant body weren't right.  She rushed over, praying as she came to the train tracks that she wouldn't be delayed.
     When she came I was both scared and relieved.  Scared because I knew in my heart what was happening and I didn't want to go there.  Relieved because here was someone who just had her 10th baby herself.  She knew about these things.  I was comforted by her presence, her experience and her being a woman.
     It was night time.  We all, hubby, midwife and I, filed into our bedroom.  The room where I was supposed to deliver out first born.  The baby we prayed for.
     Our rented house was a quaint older Victorian style house.  It had a big green porch and a wide entry way.  Rosettes were in the corners of the trim.  There were three bedroom, one of which we used as a living room.  Our kitchen was the biggest we ever had.  Funny thing was the top cabinets didn't have any doors.  We joke about it all of the time.  "A cabinet makers home has no cabinet doors."  The dining room was the center of the house.  Every room stemmed from it.  The one bathroom was even awkwardly located right off of the dining room.  No hiding there.  Also, off of the dining room was the baby's room.  I little, cozy room with a lot of character and a glass paned door.  Perfect for our coming baby.
     As our midwife got set to check me and to see what was going on I remember sitting on our bed, on the comforter my mother-in-law made for us as a wedding gift.  The colors vivid in my memory.  Peach a green shapes all lovingly stitched together.
     It didn't take our midwife long to determine I needed to go to the hospital.  I was in labor.  I was just 5 1/2 months pregnant, 20-22 weeks pregnant.  Too early to be in labor.
     I don't remember much of what I was thinking.  I don't know if Robert and I talked or prayed or just sat in numbed silence on the ride to the hospital.  I do know the my gut was right all along.  I was indeed in labor.
     Our midwife, who called ahead, met us at the hospital.  She told me to wait for a wheel chair.  Not knowing any better or wanting to stay in as much control of the situation as possible I declined.  There was an uncomfortable silence in the elevator ride up to the top, the third floor.  It all felt surreal.  So much like a bad dream and wanted desperately to wake up from.

blessing of praying friends

I am going to make this short, cut out some of the details, so I hope this makes sense. 

This is also written from a Christian perspective, with "Christian" language so I realize it may not jive with your beliefs or it may not make sense.  I do hope this ministers to you though.

Tuesday evening/Wednesday morning I was feeling pretty bad.  I was under spiritual/physical attack.

When I woke up Wednesday, I knew I needed help, I couldn't fight this on my own.

So, I texted (is that even a word?) some of the ladies in church and asked them to pray for me.

As I sat in the office praying, fighting it through, their texts started coming back.  "Praying right now" and other words of encouragement.  Their words, their taking the time to stand in the gap for me brought me to tears.  While they were praying I could rest, even for five minutes.  I felt a breakthrough.  It felt good knowing that my sisters have by back and are willing to fight with me.

I am so blessed to have ladies who may not even be my closest of friends stop and pray for me just when I needed it.  Thursday I felt really good, and I still do.  The devil is a punk and God is so good and so are His people.

Passport to India

I am very excited about this news.

Last year through our Sonlight Cirriculum we watched a missionary video series on India.

I have had a burden for India and it's people, and this just furthered that burden.

(all photos are from the passport to india web site)

We followed Chris (the big American) through his travels in India. 

We saw their poverty in material things, and their richness in heart and smiles.

 We saw how they are starting schools and teaching children and adults about Jesus and His saving grace.

I loved it.  The kids loved it and hubby loved it.  (He had us wait until he got home to watch them.)

So, I couldn't be more thrilled to find out that they are doing this again this year!

You can go there yourself. http://mypassporttoindia.org/

Your heart will be changed.

News From America Samoa

Things are going good for my brother and family in Am. Samoa. 

Here are some new photos and a report from him.

This is our niece with Marine.

 God is something...this guy's from Alaska (my brother lived in Alaska.) half of his church is white! 

God is good.  Is must be comforting to have familiar people around.

 My beautiful sister-in-love with Marine.

Now for my brother's report:

I hope this finds you well.

I just wanted to give you a quick up date on what God is doing here.
Our Wed night services have been the best attended so far.
Tonight we had 14 in all and two saved.
Two young men came back after Saturday nights movie outreach.
They got out before we could get there pics.
One man came back the second Wed in a row - he has just moved down
from Alaska and was talking to the people we rent the building from about
a church and they told him to come to ours. So that explains the 28 year old
white guy in A. Samoa - he said he is going to stay - and keep coming to church.

Another women The other white lady in middle of group pic (Besides my wife)
Tish has come twice and is fruit from our second movie outreach at our house.
She brought out two Samoans A mom and daughter -
they are the two on the far left of the group pic.
And then Marine & her daughter (Saved in Western Samoa @ our church there)
They are on right side of group pic. have become a great joy to us and have begun
to really help out.
I will keep the reports coming as God continues to build His church here.

Thanks for the Prayers!!

The Joys of Raising a Strong-Willed Child

I know what you're thinking..."Joy, how can a strong-willed child bring you joy?" or "My strong-willed kid brings me more gray hairs than joy."

Let me explain.  We have a pretty okay, at times very, strong-willed teen who is a tremendous blessing.  If you would have told us this when she was say 6 months, 1 1/2 years, and so on we would have thought you a little too optimistic.  Our daughter really threw us for a loop.  She wanted to do everything all.by.her.self.all.of.the.time.  She had a mind of her own and was not afraid to let everyone know.  She got kicked out of nursery more than once.  There were more days then I'd like to admit that I felt like the worst mom on the planet.  I read all sorts of books on strong-willed children and she really didn't fit in the pages.  She really put us to the test.

People would judge us, give us advice and make comments like "my child will not act that way."  Today, the comments we hear are nothing but good.  Today, when I see strong-willed kids and I say a little prayer for the parents and then I look at how great that child can become.

While this post is not about my hubby and I or our parenting skills, rather, it's about Gods true grace.  Being a child who did whatever my parents said with just a look, I didn't know how to handle such a strong child.  She came out having a mind of her own.  I have to say that it was prayer, lots and lots of prayer, consistency and the grace of God that got us where we are today.  I remember praying that God would guide her strong-will towards Him.  If she would use it for Him, nothing would stop her.  And that has held up to this day.

Just yesterday our daughter and I were talking about a situation where her peers where following the crowd, doing some things they knew weren't right.  She commented "I don't know why people follow the crowd.  I usually do the opposite of what everyone else is doing."  Which is true.  She also has a big heart.  She has always been the one to go and play with the lone kid at the playground.  She is still strong-willed and sometimes we know we aren't going to change her mind, we know what battles to fight.  Thankfully they aren't many.  Some battles we have been worn out winning, but looking back they were SO worth it. 

So the blessings and joys:

When their will is on the right path nothing is going to stop them.

When their will is good, they will influence others.

They will make a stand for what is right even if it costs them deeply.

They know what is right and the benefit of doing right.

As a mom, I got closer to God those many times crying out for help.

We get to see God's grace on our lives, filling in and covering our many mistakes, making a beautiful young lady despite us.
When she wants to do something you can count on her to finish it and give it her all.

We don't have to worry about:

how she dresses

how is treats others (for the most part)

going along with the crowd

and much more

If you have a strong-willed kid or two, oh how I pray for you.  Learn to pick your battles and stick to your guns to win them.  Be consistent and pray for God's grace, His hand, His guidance.  He made your child that way for a reason and He gave them to you for a reason.  And laugh, have a sense of humor.  You really will look back on those long hard days and laugh.

Toothpaste-ez

Hubby and I get a lot of recipes from this little magazine that comes in the newspaper.

You know it's summer when your driveway is lined out with bikes.

I had eight kids in our house Wednesday!

It's the little things.

The hygienist said "All I have is this ugly color."

I noticed it was gray.  I replied, "Oh.  Gray is my favorite color.  I love it."

As I was checking out of the dentist they had a basket full of sample toothpaste.

I asked the lady "Are these toothpaste-ez for us?"  Toothpaste-ez...get my teeth cleaned and I can't talk!

As always, thanks for reading.

***Edited

Sorry for any confusion. 


After talking  to a good, wise friend I did erase this post.  All is good and God is in control.

life

I have been thinking about what to write for today's post.

So many bloggers have such lovely posts on Easter, the real meaning.

Then I saw this on FB...

Our friends just had their baby.

So helpless, so innocent.

The way he is reaching out, really says it all.

Jesus is my everything, my all. 

Twenty-one years ago I gave my life to Jesus.

He took me as I was, broken and in desperate need of a savior.

I probably looked much like this newborn.

God picked me up and comforted me, just like I know my friend did.

He forgave me of all the wrong I did.

I honestly, can't say enough about how much God has done for me.

This past year He has been especially close and I can't wait to see my Savior again! 

Happy Easter!

Do you...?

When magazines come to your house...

do you go through them before anyone else can...

 to censure rip out and trash all of the immodest photos and/or ads?

While most of the mags we get are "clean" I still go through everything. 

A Day to Save Olga

I don't know if I've ever posted a post like this.
A dear friend and guest blogger sent me this.
I know it is long, but please take the time to read.
Thanks.

Dear friends,
So many of you already know this beautiful little face....



Olga turned five last month. She has spent the last five years in an orphanage in Eastern Europe, without the love of a mommy and daddy- simply because she arrived in life exactly as God designed her. One chromosome too many, and her fate was sealed from birth.





Sealed, because in Eastern Europe, babies who are born with Down syndrome are deemed unacceptable at birth. They are discarded as cast-offs of society, and when they turn five they leave the only home they've ever known...




And I wish I could say that for most of these children, leaving that home meant going to a place of safety, a place of happiness, a place where they would finally know the love of a family...know what it meant to be cuddled or sung to or read to, tucked in at night, prayed for, loved.

Instead, they are taken to a place that most people wouldn't leave their family pet.


A place of living hell, where they will never know the tenderness of a parent, never know the security of being raised in a family, and there they will stay, one ugly, pain-filled day at a time...until they die.






I read a post last December that stayed with me to this day. It was called from baby dolls to bedstraps.
The blog author wrote about Elizabeth, an orphan on Reece's Rainbow who had been transferred to a mental institution, waiting for a family to step forward for her. Her words still haunt me.

I wonder where she thought she was going as they led her out of the orphanage that day. Did she think that maybe it was finally her turn? That they were taking her to her forever Mommy and Daddy?

And when they instead took her inside that dreadful place, when they shaved her head and tied her to a too-small metal crib

when they turned their backs and

walked

away…



when they left her confused, terrified,

in a room where the wails of schizophrenic adults echo through the cold air

what was going through her young mind?



Did she wonder if she was being punished?



How long did she hold out hope that this was only temporary?

That any minute, they would come and take her back to the baby house

to her baby dolls and teddy bear,

to her best friend, Angelina?


Did she long to free her arms from the restraints

to cover her head with her hands to drown out

the scary noises

the scary sights

the scary smells?



That could be my Lily….


It could be your child.

And what if it were?

What if you woke up one morning

and by some hellish, twilight-zone twist of fate

your child wasn’t still tucked into that warm bed down the hall,

what if your child was trapped

across the dark sea

in that nightmare that is

the institution?

What

would

you

DO?

Rescue those being led away to death; hold back those staggering toward slaughter. Proverbs 24:11
Elizabeth is being rescued today, thanks to the efforts of that blogging mama, and others like her.

Olga is being rescued today, thanks to so many of you...you gave so much and created such a large grant that a family was able to step forward and start the process of adoption.

The Abells have done so much already, towards rescuing Olga. I can't even imagine all the paperwork and prayer and emotion and finances that goes into an international adoption. They have done numerous fundraisers, and will continue to do so until they can bring Olga home.

Through the help of so many, a grant of over $13,000 has been raised for Olga's adoption. That grant is set aside for the final travel costs and fees that it will take to bring Olga home. It will take every penny of that and then some.

Right now the Abells are in need of raising the $7,000 that is needed to submit their dossier for Olga. Without that dossier we don't even know if Olga has been transferred yet. Here in America you just pick up the phone and ask these questions. But here in America we don't tie five year old girls to cribs to keep them from climbing out.

The Abells need to submit that dossier as soon as possible- at the very least to find out if she has been transferred already- because I know an army of prayer warriors who is going to want to know that piece of information as well. And at the very most, it could be able to hold Olga at the baby house until the Abells can rescue her. I wish I could say with certainty that she won't be transferred- truthfully we just don't know that.

Olga has been so heavy on my heart for months- friends, I want you to know that I DO trust that God has a plan here.

I prayed like crazy for a way to help the Abells. I truly believe that there is a network of people who love Olga here in blogland...a net that is woven by God and is stretching out across this blessed country we live in, and even beyond to generous hearts in other nations. I really cannot express enough how thankful I am to be a small part of what God has already done for Olga, Peter and Kareen. But I don't think our job is done.

Olga needs us.

I don't want her to spend one more forsaken day in that place than she has to.

We're not doing a giveaway here today. I don't even think we need to do one- I know so many just have a heart to help and to give, and prizes were never the real reason we all gave anyway.

So I'm just asking- for one day- for you to do whatever you could to help Olga. Whether that's $10 or $20 or even a hundred...if you are able to help raise this money for the dossier, please do so HERE......every single dollar goes to the Abell's adoption fund, and every single dollar will help.

We're calling this A Day to Save Olga, because there are about 17 of us blogging mamas who have set aside this day to blog, post on Facebook, pray, give and spread the word to SAVE OLGA.

Will you help us?

I know you will:)

Love,

Patti

Day 10 What Are You Afraid Of

Today is a bit of a harder subject.
What am I afraid of.  Fear.  It's something I am all to familiar with.

If I wrote this post about 8 months ago I would have written a much different post.
My fears have really been brought out and laid bare on the table these last 8 months.

Eight months ago I was dealing with a REALLY bad abdominal pain.  The doctors ran some tests and didn't know what it was.  All signs (in my mind) pointed to cancer.  Well, those signs/thoughts started to consume me.  It got so bad that I let fear take over.  Part of me said "whatever is wrong I am going to fight and beat it."  Another part said "I am going to die and leave me family."

Don't get me wrong I don't fear death, I know I am heaven bound, but I am not "ready" to go.

To make a long story short since I let fear take over, I had many more health problems, which feed that fear.  It was like a spinning top.  I was getting my blood taken every three days at one point.  I have been "worked over", to quote a specialist.  I heard three different types of cancer, heart issues, kidney problems, etc.  At times I was in a great deal of pain.  I even told God "If you're going to take me, just take me."  I was worrying about my worry.

God has become more real to me.  While I am still dealing with some of the affects of it all, I am learning (slowly) to completely trust God.  He has a habit of telling me "Trust Me" in many of my situations.  I'm learning to make it a habit of letting go and trusting Him.  As I let go, the symptoms are going away. 

So in closing, what do I fear...I am learning to not fear, learning to completely give everything to God, learning to trust Him.

"Be anxious for nothing but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving...and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus."
Phil. 4:6,7 

"For God has not given us the spirit of fear, but of power and of a sound mind." 2 Tim. 1:7