By This You Will Know

It's been a while since I've written anything-- turns out, I'm a terribly inconsistent blogger like I thought I might be.

Life's definitely thrown us some curveballs this fall. In early September, our oldest son had a scheduled tonsillectomy, adenoidectomy, and ear tube surgery (his 4th) after having recurrent strep every few weeks for months. By mid-September when he was finally recovered from the pain of that surgery, we received news that was like a punch in the gut. Our little guy's immune system was shutting down for reasons no one could explain. We already knew he (like myself) had a form of Primary Immunodeficiency and he has definitely been symptomatic since infancy, but this was significantly worse news. He had converted into a more significant form of PI called Common Variable Immune Deficiency (CVID) and was basically missing two immunoglobulins and low in a third. 

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance." - James 1:2-3

"Give thanks in all circumstances."- 1 Thessalonians 5:18 

We were deeply troubled by the news, but we had to make a decision yet again-- one we've faced several times before-- would we allow bitterness, anger, sadness, and disease to dominate our lives? Or would we continually choose to be joyful and thankful? Let's be honest- it's a struggle sometimes. But we choose the latter. We have to choose it every day. An early diagnosis and treatment means potentially avoiding 8-10 years of unexplained illnesses, hospitalizations, and potentially organ damage. We made the decision to press in even further to God, keep believing and praying fervently for complete healing, and pray God could use our family to somehow bring hope to others who might also be going through a similar medical trial with their children. It was a relatively easy decision to begin him on gamma globulin replacement therapy for a few years and then get retested. I have been doing this for 10 months and it's made a tremendous difference. However, we knew it wasn't going to be easy and we have had many ups and downs as we've begun weekly infusion treatments the past 6 weeks.

My health has been so incredibly good since beginning treatment that my mom nicknamed me the "Bionic Woman." I'll admit, I was starting to feel invincible as I saw myself escaping minor sicknesses I would have caught before and turned into yet another pneumonia. It's so easy to get complacent and so wrapped up in other things, you forget to continue praying for full healing and completely relying on God instead of a treatment or doctors. 

Then, I woke up one day hardly able to walk. My entire knee was hot, swollen, and full of fluid. I had a bad, bad feeling it was serious. I went right to urgent care and called my immunologist and they both agreed that it might be serious and sent me to the ER. After a few days of being in and out of two ER's and a hospital admission (they kept saying it was only inflammation), it was finally discovered I had a septic bursitis infection which had turned into an abscess and needed knee surgery and sustained IV antibiotics every 8 hours. I was in the hospital another 2 and a half days for surgery and then came home to maintain home health care through nurses and IV treatment at home.

If I'm honest, it seems like the trials just won't end. But then I look around and I see one of my best friends going through something heart-wrenchingly difficult. She called me in the hospital and ended up encouraging me with the supernatural strength God's given her to keep carrying on joyfully.

"By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another." - John 13:35

We live in a society where it's countercultural and radical to lay down our lives, our schedules, our time, and our talents for others to get nothing tangible in return. But this is truly where Christians can demonstrate the heart of the gospel. As we go into Thanksgiving, I can't help but reflect on the AMAZING help and blessings we've received throughout this tough season. Meals have poured in while I was in the hospital and even now while recovering at home. Busy fellow moms and homeschool moms taking in my 3 young children to spend entire days or overnight with their families. I cried in the hospital seeing pictures of my kids smiling at the park or painting turkey crafts or playing dress-up with these special friends who were treating my own children as their own when I couldn't be there. A dear friend whose own children are grown coming over to read books on the sofa, build block towers, and just love on my little ones. A friend who sent my sons flying to the moon jumping on the trampoline with them. Multiple friends coming over to clean house, do laundry, fold laundry, put away laundry (you get the point- there has been a LOT of laundry!). Friends visiting in the hospital and brought special treats or coming to my home when nurses were here. An entire family who came one day to help with one of Elliott's infusions while Ben was out of town. 

We've been down to one car for almost a month as Ben's car has had numerous problems and he hasn't ever had the dedicated time to fix it. A friend volunteered to come over and help fix the car on a Saturday. He brought another friend who we'd never even met. They spent all day into the night working to fix his car. The friend we didn't even know told Ben at this end of the day, "Thank you for giving us the opportunity to help you today. It's an honor to be able to serve others." He was totally genuine. Totally sincere. 

What if we all had that attitude? What could the body of Christ look like? I'll tell you what-- I hope anyone who is on the outside looking into my life can see God's love in action. I know I can. It is the gospel in action. We are humbled. We are thankful.

Even if He does not: Thoughts on Grief, Loss, and Suffering

Labor Day used to be a fun day that reminded me of end of summer barbecues with friends and family.  This year, it was a painful reminder that exactly one year ago, I was actually in labor but losing our third baby.

Infertility, miscarriage, stillbirth or losing a living child... All of these are a special kind of pain. I have had 4 miscarriages and have 3 living children, whom I'm deeply grateful for every day. I've walked with friends going through infertility. I have a new dear friend who lost a son at 24 weeks. It is a special kind of pain, friends.

This third miscarriage was so difficult because I didn't think anything was wrong. I had all the fun symptoms of early pregnancy. I had just experienced an early miscarriage the month before and was shocked to learn I was pregnant the following month. I figured the chances of two miscarriages in a row were pretty low (little did I know I would experience a third consecutive miscarriage 5 months later). 

In fact, when I had passed the 8 week mark and had no signs of anything being wrong, I truly believed in my heart that this pregnancy was going great. Then, I went in for my first appointment: a 9 week ultrasound. I wasn't panicked. I was excited. 

I saw the little baby wiggling around on the screen. I saw the quick flutter of his or her's little beating heart. My excitement, though, was quickly overshadowed by the slight frown on my midwife's face. She began to ask about my dates-- was I certain I was a little past 9 weeks along? I told her about the miscarriage the previous month, so yes, I was certain. 

My baby was not showing 9 weeks gestational age. My midwife continued to speak, but I don't even know what she said. I nodded quietly for a long time and left the office, promising to follow-up with blood work several more times that week. 

The next few days were spent in desperate prayer. Prayer that God would work a miracle and grow our little baby. The wait was excruciating but within a few days, the scientific verdict was in: my HCG was not rising and barring a miracle of God, we were going to lose this baby. 

We continued to pray for a miracle. My husband has tremendous faith and he believed God would intervene. But, He didn't. On Labor Day, I experienced hours of pain--they seemed endless and this was not my first, or second, or third rodeo. By that evening, we had lost our little baby, the same one whose heart I had seen beating with life a week before.

Friends, I know there are many, many of you who may read this who have also experienced the depth of pain that comes with loss or infertility. Every life is sacred, from the moment it is conceived. God knits each of us together in the womb. After the initial waves of grief and the period of intense mourning, you ultimately come to the place where you've questioned, you've yelled, you've wept every tear you can weep and you know you have a choice: You can either blame God or you can praise God. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that God could have just spoken the word, and my baby would have lived. For reasons I will never understand, He didn't. So, how can I still continue to serve Him? How does one move on? Through the past two years--the miscarriages and walking through many sicknesses in my physical body--I've wrestled with God and he's quietly and tenderly spoken things to my spirit and brought me to truths in his Word that I'd like to share.

1. Being a follower of God does not guarantee us a life free of trials. In the same way, neither are trials always a reflection of not having enough faith.

Jesus said it "rains on the just and the unjust" (Matthew 5:45). It is simply part of living in a fallen world full of sin, grief, pain, suffering, and death. It wasn't even God's original plan. But, for reasons we may not understand at the time or may never understand, God permits us to suffer at times. There are many examples of unanswered prayer in the Bible. David pleaded with God for his own son's life. Job went through such horrific suffering that the Bible says he sat on the ground for 7 days without speaking. The apostle Paul repeatedly asked God to take away a "thorn in his flesh," yet it remained. Yet, when we think of men of true faith, all these men come to mind. So it is not for lack of faith that we endure trials and suffering. God, however, can use these sufferings in our lives.

2. Although He can, God often does not take us from the suffering. 

However, He does promise to walk with those who believe in Him through it. As David said, "Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil. Your rod and staff, they comfort me" (Psalms 23:4). Phillipians 4:7 says, "And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

When these three guys--Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were about to be thrown into the fiery furnace for refusing to bow down to an idol, they told King Nebuchadnezzar, "If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to save us from it, and he will rescue us from your hand, O King. But even if he does not, we want you to know, O King, that we will not serve your gods..." (Daniel 3:17-18).

Do we have an "even if he does not" attitude? Certainly, we should still pray for miracles. God does them all the time! He may take you out of that fire with not a hair scorched on your head. But, are we so radical that we're willing to say, God, we trust your plan for our lives. Even if it's not our plan, or what we want, or not in our timing. Even if you do not. Job said, "Though you slay me, yet I will hope in him" (Job 12:13).

This song based on the book of Job has spoken volumes to me this past year. "Though you slay me, yet I will praise you. Though you take from me, I will bless your name. Though you ruin me, still I will worship. Sing a song to the One who's all I need. My heart and flesh may fail, the earth below give way, but with my eyes, I will see the Lord. Lifted high on that day, behold, the Lamb who was slain, and I'll know every tear was worth it all."

3. In suffering, we can learn to be completely sustained by God's grace and strength.

Above all else, I have learned this principle. I wish I could tell you that my relationship with God would be the same today if I hadn't gone through the suffering of the past few years, but I cannot. It is only through this deep suffering at times that I have learned to truly listen to God's still, quiet voice. To rest in His peace that transcends all understanding.

C.S. Lewis said, "We can ignore even pleasure. But pain insists upon being attended to. God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pain: it is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world."
― The Problem of Pain

Paul, who suffered greatly throughout his life, said this: "But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' ... This is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak then I am strong." (2 Corinthians 12:9-10)

I believe World War II Admiral Charles Nimitz echoed Paul's sentiments when he said, "I asked God for strength that I might achieve. I was made weak that I might learn humbly to obey. I asked for health that I might do greater things. I was given infirmity that I might do better things. I asked for riches that I might be happy. I was given poverty that I might be wise. I asked for power that I might have the praise of men. I was given weakness that I might feel the need of God. I asked for all things that I might enjoy life. I was given life that I might enjoy all things. I got nothing that I asked for, but everything I hoped for. Almost despite myself, my unspoken prayers were answered. I am, among all men, most richly blessed."

In ending this post, I challenge you to take 5 minutes and listen to this. Maybe your trials or suffering aren't at all like mine. Maybe you aren't even going through a trial now, but you will. Maybe you aren't even sure if this whole God thing is legit and you have a lot of questions. That's okay- God meets you right where you're at. I don't have all the answers either, but I can certainly tell you God's presence has surrounded me in a very real way and I have seen the undeniable proof of His existence and goodness all around me, even in the midst of pain.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qyUPz6_TciY

Called to the Crazy

On January 1, 2014, we made a decision that undoubtedly had some of our friends and family questioning our sanity. Maybe we even questioned our own sanity. On that day, we invited a teenage girl-- a complete stranger-- to come and live with us and our 3 young children.

We were heading back from our annual Christmas road trip. It was late at night and I was surfing Facebook, killing time on the 15 hour car ride, when I noticed a post that was "shared" by a lady I had met at a neighborhood function that fall. The message was simple: Was there anyone out there who had a room to spare so a teenage girl could finish out high school that spring?

Normally, I don't even take the time to read shared posts, especially posts shared by people I hardly know. But this caught my eye. I read it. I read it again. I read it a third time. And God dropped in my heart: You are the one.

What?! You must be crazy, God. I have THREE young children. We homeschool! My husband travels all the time. I don't know anything about teenagers except I was one and I know I wasn't fun for my mom at that time. I could name a hundred other people that would be better suited for taking in a teenager- people closer to that season of life, with some experience. This wasn't even safe right? There were obviously circumstances surrounding this-- complicated ones.

You are the one.

As I read and reread that message and God continued to lay on my heart the complete certainty that this was His plan for us, I couldn't help but think, "Okay, sure...But I'm going to have to run it by my husband and there is no way he's going to go for this. It's CRAZY!" Who really asks their husband, "Hey honey, how about a stranger coming to live with us for 6 months? What do you think??"

I should have known that would not get me out of this. He just nodded his head slowly and said, "Yes. Sure. We have a room. If this is what God's calling us to do, then we're going to be obedient. We're going to make calls, learn more about the situation, meet her, and keep seeing if we have God's peace about it."

And before you start saying, "Oh, you guys are such good people!" Let me stop you right there. We are not. We are broken sinners, saved only by God's infinite grace and mercy. I am selfish. I like my alone time. I like my clean house. I like things I can control. I would really like to say that I would have done this because I have a good heart, but I cannot. God spoke to me-- a very imperfect person-- to do this crazy thing. The only thing I did "right" was obey, but even then, it was kicking and screaming and doubting and with a bad attitude at times.

I went to bed that night and lay awake thinking-- where was this girl now? What was the situation? I resigned myself to this: God, if you REALLY want me to do this, continue to open doors and we will be obedient.

The next day, I made a phone call and spoke at length with the wonderful lady who was involved and had known her for a while. She was open and honest. We continued to pray. We agreed to meet her for an "interview" at a local coffee shop. After all, if she wasn't willing to abide by the rules we laid down, this wasn't going to work anyway. I consulted our pastors. We came up with our rules. We didn't even know what were appropriate rules for teenagers, but we came up with what we could.

My heart was pounding out of my chest when we pulled up at the coffee shop. Glancing around, I saw her sitting at the table. She greeted us politely and formally. She smiled at our daughter, who was 9 months old at the time. We began to talk. I'm sure part of her had to be wondering who these crazy people were that didn't even know her, but were inviting her to come live with them. She asked questions. We asked questions. And in a few hours, it was done. She would come to finish out her high school year with our family.

She moved in the very next day. Our kids were wild. To them, this sounded like a never-ending slumber party and that would be great fun! I'm sure the second she walked in and was surrounded by toys and noise and little kids running around, part of her wanted to run. But she didn't. And our journey began.

We started getting to know each other and our conversations often lasted until late into the night. She began to open up and we shared openly and honestly. She asked questions about faith. We answered as honestly as we could, knowing God would do the real work, but I still felt so terribly inadequate. After all, I was not quite a friend and not quite a parent. We navigated a muddled road somewhere in-between and among all those paths. The whole thing was a messy, complicated, emotional mess. But guess what? God's word says He can work through all things--even our messes.

And He did. Almost a month later, she let us know that she had made the decision to completely give her life over to God. She understood that God had sent his son, Jesus, to the earth to die for her sins. She understood and accepted His complete forgiveness, knowing that this meant her sins were forgiven and forgotten. She let go of all her deep hurt, shame, guilt, bitterness, regret. She had had to walk through things that were unimaginable to me, but she was ready to give it all over to God. She knew becoming a Christ-follower would mean radical life transformation. And it was.

We began to see real joy in her. Real peace. It wasn't always an easy road. God never promises us that. But He does promise that as we go through trials, He will not leave us. She was a new person.

She lived with us until the following July. 7 months in total. There's so much I could say about our journey, but the main thing is this: Our family was immeasurably blessed by this young lady. As her faith grew, our faith grew. We have been so privileged to walk with her through proms, graduation, financial aid and the college journey, relationships, work, school, and faith. Our home was full of crazy teenagers and slumber parties for a short season. We had a new norm and it was fun. Most of all, God receives all the glory because He did what only He can do.

Two weeks ago, we had to say a temporary goodbye to her as she moved to another state. A new physical beginning seems entirely appropriate in this new season of life:

"Do not call to mind the former things, Or ponder things of the past. 19"Behold, I will do something new, Now it will spring forth; Will you not be aware of it? I will even make a roadway in the wilderness, Rivers in the desert.…" Isaiah 43:18-19

To this precious young lady, who I know will read this because I asked her permission before even writing it- You are treasured. You have taught us that we can love someone who is not our own biological child as deeply as our own. We are so proud of you for your continued journey as a Christ follower. We know God will continue to do a "new" thing in you. We are always praying for you and especially now as you forge a new path in a new place.

To everyone else reading this, thank you for allowing me to share with you an important part of our lives. God may not call you to take in a teenager, but if you are following Him, He will call you to do something "crazy." Something entirely out of your comfort zone. You see, God does not call us to lead ordinary lives. I don't believe His plan is for us to sit back, be comfortable, and live the "American dream." And that's what I was--comfortable and complacent--until God totally rocked my world one day.

I challenge myself continually with the same question I challenge you-- what will you do when God calls you to do the crazy, the uncomfortable, the unfamiliar?...

Yankees Becomes Texans: Part II

Once we decided we were indeed moving to Houston, things moved quickly! One of our top priorities was finding a place to live in a city of 6 million people and finding a teaching position. I began submitting my resume online to districts across the Houston area. I gained a SINGLE phone interview from a couple months of work. I didn't get the job and I'm not quite sure why they even interviewed me because they were clear that they didn't hire new teachers with no experience. But something quite funny did happen in the interview.

They had given me an opportunity to ask questions about the campus. I asked about parental involvement and the principal began to speak about how heavily involved parents were and in fact, they had just sponsored a PTO carnival and she kept talking about the "booze" the parents were in charge of. Booze?! I couldn't be hearing correctly. She just kept saying it over and over! After asking her to repeat it again, I finally realized she was saying BOOTHS. Good grief- clearly, I did not speak "Texan" yet.

In May, we made our second trip to Houston to look for an apartment. We spent an entire day dropping off dozens of resumes. My heart was to teach in a high needs school. I spent most of my energy on Houston ISD and did not receive a single call from my resume.

Frustrated, I had almost given up hope when I stumbled upon a smaller city south of Houston. While dropping off a resume in the front office, the secretary asked what university I had attended in Kansas. When I told her KU, a lady behind her said she went to KSU. We got to chatting a little and when I finally got up the courage to ask if she'd let the principal know about me, she said, "Oh honey, I am the principal. Let's go have a chat."

She offered me a job on the spot, but it was upper elementary. Again, my heart was set on the lower grades. She started making some calls and got me in touch with the Director of Bilingual and ESL Education. This amazing woman dropped everything she was doing and took Ben and I on a campus tour of another school. It was on her good word that another principal ended up taking a chance on a girl from Kansas with no public school teaching experience and I'm forever thankful. I received more opportunities in this district than I could have ever dreamed and I had amazing colleagues.

Our move to Houston in July was eventful. You see, we had this dog... Neurotic is not strong enough of a word. On the day the U-Haul rolled out of the driveway, this dog (Maggie) knew something was awry and she was ticked. In fact, she held her nose in the air like the aloof princess she was and refused to eat or drink for almost the entire 13 hour trip.

Since we had a third story apartment and it was 110 degrees in July and Ben's dad's back was hurt, we hired professional movers. After they had moved in about 70% of our stuff, they looked like they were dying and asked to take a break. I knew they were going past our contracted time, so I offered to pay them more to finish the job. Well, they never came back from their break!! No amount of money was worth it to them, I guess! We ended up having to move in the rest ourselves. It. Was. Awful.

However, we moved into a brand new apartment. Light, clean carpets, huge windows, and a pool-side view. We had some new furniture and new bedding. We thought we were living large compared to our old place.

But remember-- we had a neurotic dog.

We hadn't been in our apartment very long when Ben's brother decided to come visit us. We ended up hanging out until after 11 pm one night. Now before moving to Texas, we never kept Maggie in a kennel. She just slept on the couch when we were gone. That night, we trucked up to our third story apartment, turned the key, flicked on the light, and... gasped.

The entire tile entryway was covered in blood. The second she heard the door, Maggie bounded to greet us, jumping all over my legs. Still perplexed, I looked down and saw my pants were suddenly covered in blood. As my eyes slowly panned across the apartment, I let out a half-shriek, half-sob, half-gasp.

It looked like a murder scene. Straight up C.S.I.

Maggie, the lovable but neurotic dog, had apparently jumped up on the door so many times that she had burst the pads of her paws open. Layer upon layer had been worn down and they were now completely raw and bloody. But, she didn't stop with the door. She had apparently proceeded to spend the next however many hours running a "track" across the light colored carpets of our brand new apartment. The track went through the kitchen, around the dining room table, jumped up onto our newer couch, back down again, into the bedroom, up onto our new duvet, down again and back around to the door. One perfect bloody pattern of utter destruction.

When I finally found a spot that wasn't blood-soaked to sit and commence sobbing, Maggie started attacking me with love as usual. When I finally came to the realization that this mess wasn't going to clean itself, Ben suggested I try to rent a carpet cleaner from the grocery store around the corner while he tended to Maggie's paws. Still half-sobbing, I got in the car. It was almost midnight. I think I called my mom and cried, but I can't remember. The next part I remember clearly.

The lights were still on at the grocery store and I ran up just in time to see the manager locking up the doors. He yelled, "Sorry, we just closed!"

"I just need to rent a carpet cleaner!" I yelled back, hoping he'd have some mercy on me. As his eyes scanned me up and down, I looked down to remember I was covered in blood. Yeah. So that probably didn't look very good in the middle of the night!

"It's my dog! She got hurt and destroyed my new apartment!" Sure. A likely story. Now I'm probably going to jail.

Well, this guy must have been crazy because I'm not sure I would have even believed me, and I certainly wouldn't have let me in, but he opened the doors and let me rent a giant carpet cleaner. We spent maybe 3 or 4 hours and went through 8 bottles of resolve and multiple runs of the carpet cleaner before we got to bed that night.

Amazingly, we got almost everything out of our couches and carpets. We later joked we would be amazing spokespeople for Resolve. Years later, we could still be spokespeople for Resolve! We wrote all our new neighbors apology letters the next morning as to why we were running heavy duty machines all night long. I'm sure it made us a lot of new friends.

That was the beginning of Maggie's trial "doggy psychotropic med" days, but even those didn't really do her any good. She was, after all, a lovable but thoroughly neurotic little dog.

Yankees Become Texans: Part I

Growing up, I had never given much thought to where I would live as an adult. I never really assumed I would stay in Kansas, but I never anticipated moving either. So when we realized Ben had very few opportunities at Kansas universities in the field he really wanted to pursue, we were forced to start thinking about attending graduate school out of state.

At first, we looked into Johns Hopkins but we quickly decided that was just too far from our families. We made a list of options within a day's drive of Kansas and 3 of those options were in the great state of Texas. We set out on our first road trip to Texas in October 2006. Our plan was to visit Southwestern in Dallas, Baylor College of Medicine in Houston, and UTMB in Galveston.

Two of the schools had set us up with tours, special meet and greets to connect with current PhD students, and meetings with professors and advisors. From the second we arrived in Dallas, all we could think was, "This is the PERFECT fit for us." Everyone was incredibly kind. The school seemed phenomenal. Ben really connected with some professors and their work. The chances of getting in were higher than BCM. Dallas was considerably closer to Kansas. I had checked into some teaching contacts with Dallas school districts already. Everything about it just made sense. We left Southwestern fairly "set," thinking the other two schools would really have to blow us away to change our minds.

In their hearts, humans plan their course,
but the Lord establishes their steps.
Proverbs 16:9

On the four hour drive from Dallas to Houston, I decided to take a little nap. While Ben was driving in the middle of nowhere, he said God spoke to him in a very real way and told him clearly that Houston was where we were supposed to be. Now some of you reading this may not know what to think about that, but we believe that God can and does still speak to individuals.

Our visit to Houston was not nearly as smooth. Nothing was perfectly planned out, we got lost frequently, and it was hot even in October! We met with a few professors, but none of their work excited Ben as much as the ones in Dallas. Finally, before we left, they set us up with the chair of the program. It became very obvious he was a busy man who didn't bother with small talk or pleasantries. He began grilling Ben with rapid-fire questions from the moment we stepped foot in the doorway (Most of it was well above my head, so I just sat in the corner and tried not to screw anything up for Ben!). When the surprise "interview" was over, we left feeling exhausted and that there was very little chance of even being accepted into BCM.

At the end of the week, we returned home completely puzzled. Why is God telling us to go to Houston when everything seemed to point to Dallas?

A few months later, it was time for the actual application and interview process. He got interviews at all 3 of the Texas schools as well as Washington University in St. Louis. This definitely didn't help us with any clarity! For anyone that knows me well, I'm a planner. I like to have things planned out and lined up, so any lengthy process that involves a lot of waiting and uncertainty has a tendency to have me teetering right on the edge of sanity.

After interviews, we had narrowed it down to Houston and Dallas anyway and cancelled the interview in St. Louis. After much prayer, we still felt this strange peace about Houston. It didn't make sense in a lot of ways-- it was farther, it was bigger, and most of all-- we didn't know a single soul there. But, it had been confirmed several times that God meant for us to be there.

We were about to leave all our family, all our friends, and the state we'd lived in all our lives to start a new journey.

(And by the way... That intense professor with no time for pleasantries or patience for "stupid people" (haha, his words, not mine!)... He became Ben's academic advisor and he did his entire PhD research in his lab. Now, they work together as colleagues even though Ben is involved in private industry, publishing papers together and collaborating on research.

Moved by generosity

Earlier this week, I actually wrote several posts on our story coming to Texas, but something happened today that I just couldn't resist sharing.

As I announced in my first post, we are on the journey becoming a foster to adopt family. We have been working on our 40 hours of classes in July. It's made for a chaotic schedule and was only something we could accomplish by all the generous friends and church family who have been providing childcare twice a week for our children, supporting us through prayer, encouraging words, etc.

Adopting from the foster care system is "virtually" free but there are many misc costs you encounter along the way. FBI fingerprinting at $100, fire extinguishers $100, medical lockboxes, crib, dresser, car seat (if you don't have those), small CPR costs, city permits and inspections, and other home changes.

We needed to get Cora a twin bed and dresser to free up the crib and her current dresser before home study, which is just around the corner. We just couldn't justify buying new right now with so much going on. I searched online garage sale sites for weeks to no avail. I went to 5 thrift and consignment stores today and came home frustrated and discouraged.

Immediately after returning home, I got a text from my friend Tara who said she found a beautiful bed that a lady hadn't even officially posted yet and I was second "in line." The lady in front of me passed and now the bed was mine! It was just the kind I had wanted! But I still needed a dresser and this bed was cream-- a little difficult to match.

Suddenly, I remembered I had seen a white or cream dresser last week on Varage Sale and had even inquired about it, but Ben said to wait for a matching set. I scrolled to find the post again and my mouth dropped. The dresser was in the exact same set as the bed I was buying! Same design, same color, and brand. Unbelievable, right? Two pieces of furniture from different people that matched. Plus, the set is still available on the furniture store's website so we can likely purchase our next daughter a matching bed later.

Ben and I set out tonight on our date to retrieve the items (yep, we have pretty exciting date nights picking up stuff I've bought online!! He loves me!). On the way, I got a text from the lady selling the bed saying God had told her she was to just give me the bed. She knew it was for my biological daughter but I had mentioned we needed it ASAP to have the crib available for fostering. She absolutely insisted on not taking anything. This lady said she had just read an article yesterday about partnering with people who are fostering or adopting.  Since her family cannot make that commitment, she wanted to help us. When we picked it up, she told me how she had been meaning to sell this bed for weeks and had never gotten around to it. Then today, she just happened to post a comment to someone looking for a twin bed. She said she believed this entire thing- especially us finding the matching piece somewhere else- was a total "God thing." We have no doubt.

I'm just blown away that God would be so faithful to provide these things we need at just the right time. He even went the extra mile on the details. It's another small but constant reminder that God is over this situation. We are praying for our child or children who will come through our home or come to live forever. Will you join us?

And if God cares so wonderfully for wildflowers that are here today and thrown into the fire tomorrow, he will certainly care for you. Why do you have so little faith? Matthew 6:30

Resurrection: 6 Years Later

With the encouragement and prodding of some great friends, I've decided to start blogging (again). Not even knowing where to start, I sat down this afternoon to pick a blog site and begin writing and then realized I started a blog 6 years ago when my oldest was just a baby! Well...

Obviously I didn't stick with it for long and I can't even make any guarantees now, but I am going to be posting for a little while. Why? Because, well, a lot has happened in the past 6 years. I feel led to share some of our experiences and how God has been and is currently working through them. Maybe my story will have no similarities to yours at all. But maybe, just maybe, you resonate with some part of our journey and if my testimony could encourage just one person to remain joyful/know they're not alone/be hopeful etc., it would be worth it.



So, who am I--now?

I'm a wife. I'm a daughter. I'm a sister (and half-sister and step-sister). I'm a mother to 3 young children. I'm a former public school teacher which will forever be in my heart. I'm currently a homeschool mom.

I'm a stay at home mom. I'm a teacher trainer. I'm a part-time pastor and work for our church from home. I'm a small group leader.

I have endured repeated illnesses and recurrent miscarriages. I live with several types of PI, or Primary Immunodeficiency, which is a chronic and life-long condition. One of my children also has a type of PI. I am becoming a foster mom. Our heart's desire is to give a child in the foster care system a forever home and we are currently in the process of becoming a licensed foster to adopt family.



At times, all of these pieces of my life have seemed to overtake my "identity." And true, they're all important pieces of my life--whether good or bad. But are these aspects really who I am?

God says I'm a lot more than any of these things or even the sum of these things. My true identity is found in Him alone. A lot more on this later.

In the next post, I'll start where every good story (okay or even every mediocre story) begins... at the beginning.