tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84829963579597079892024-03-14T00:29:01.010-07:00Dear Birthmother...our journey in adoption and beyondPaula-Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760205491923422878noreply@blogger.comBlogger226125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8482996357959707989.post-32861949062197346142023-12-01T16:11:00.000-08:002023-12-02T11:26:44.688-08:00Your Grief is Valuable...<p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">I meant to get this posted last week, but here it is late instead;-)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">...</span></p><p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcVsGGVIkclEALWDHfMvv8ihXpOGmJGcPU-3JVNygFnEp5aA8Mf3ygYyOYgN39gQcRc7Zv8Wb3Z7Bptl4bugjhOhFCz1sNlhDpAIieNTXQ13cswsXqI5VjmouC-ZXKDQrkc8EfAqrWTI698QBJj5jb-Ec0coaZ5cZEjklWY_cX6yelsfrcDBSn6ohzcq4/s604/blackfriday05.jpeg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="453" data-original-width="604" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcVsGGVIkclEALWDHfMvv8ihXpOGmJGcPU-3JVNygFnEp5aA8Mf3ygYyOYgN39gQcRc7Zv8Wb3Z7Bptl4bugjhOhFCz1sNlhDpAIieNTXQ13cswsXqI5VjmouC-ZXKDQrkc8EfAqrWTI698QBJj5jb-Ec0coaZ5cZEjklWY_cX6yelsfrcDBSn6ohzcq4/s320/blackfriday05.jpeg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: xx-small;">Mom & me Black Friday shopping in 2005</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">I’m not sure about you, but I love a good deal. In fact, my family has participated in Black Friday shopping for almost 30 years! We love spending the day on Thanksgiving eating, visiting, and then scouring the ads planning our shopping day! It may seem silly to most, and in recent years, you can no longer view actual paper ads. In fact, this year they didn't even have their usual early morning doorbusters. But the love of the hunt has always been fun for us (which is probably the only kind of hunting I enjoy, now that I think of it... lol) All of that being said, I love a great deal! And there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s good to want to manage your resources well, but I think, in today’s society, we can often extend that way of living into other areas of our lives. I was reading in a devotional the other day, and it said the following in regards to experiencing Christ’s power: </span><p></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>“The reason so many people fail to experience this divine principle is that they expect to receive it all without a struggle. When conflict comes and battle rages on, they become discouraged and surrender. God has nothing worth having that is easily gained, for there are no cheap goods in the heavenly market…” </i>(L.B. Cowman)</span></p>
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<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">When I got pregnant with Sparrow, there was a thought of, <i>“Surely God wouldn’t allow me to get pregnant again only to end in another loss.”</i> And I’ve questioned Him on this many times since losing our baby. “WHY, God? Why would you allow me to get pregnant only to take our baby away?” It’s in these moments I’ve had an opportunity to understand His ways are so much higher than mine. I don’t get a free pass out of potential trials just because I’ve endured one before. I have to realize the value of the trial and that God is capable of bringing good from any situation. The purpose is to bring Him glory no.matter.what. I don’t get to just put the situation back on a shelf when I don’t like the cost of it. Instead, I have the opportunity to take hold of it and carry it on with His help. Philippians 4:11 says, <i>“I have learned to be content </i><b>whatever</b><i> the circumstances.”</i> </span></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAEW5kgQEIxn89qNKhDkGVr6pfNabwpkIhkywE26J-Z47QP7HHfkGcB1umaD-m5QJ-F08GkkjaVW5VKl8LdOglC7vJjp8IVCWviF_xieZvwvSNtdGUxAOy4akEjRaq226a1sQU6Bm6gmJKZKYrMR-WWqc4t-E8WEXoNAwaOsTjCd59Q2HxVZmf7l5IQcA/s448/lucyblackfriday.jpeg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="448" data-original-width="336" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAEW5kgQEIxn89qNKhDkGVr6pfNabwpkIhkywE26J-Z47QP7HHfkGcB1umaD-m5QJ-F08GkkjaVW5VKl8LdOglC7vJjp8IVCWviF_xieZvwvSNtdGUxAOy4akEjRaq226a1sQU6Bm6gmJKZKYrMR-WWqc4t-E8WEXoNAwaOsTjCd59Q2HxVZmf7l5IQcA/s320/lucyblackfriday.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: xx-small;">Lucy's first Black Friday, 2007</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
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<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Dealing with Sparrow’s loss isn’t the only thing our family has had to endure during this season. We’ve experienced the loss of our former church, and with that has brought us many challenges. But rather than become angry at what man has done, I have the opportunity to look at what <b>God</b> is <i>doing</i>.</span></p>
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<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">I’ve had many moments recently of anxiety. Being someone who has struggled with depression and anxiety on and off throughout my adult life, panic attacks are not a stranger to me: the feelings of your chest tightening up and the area around you closing in followed by difficulty breathing and a racing heart…it is a moment of desperately needing to escape while feeling completely trapped. </span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">You never really know what is going to trigger one of these episodes. For me, recently, it was a simple trip to Walmart and the car wash. Now, many would say that my faith must be weak because I have panic attacks. Many might also say my faith is weak because I’m still dealing with deep grief over losing my baby. It’s the mentality of, “If you don’t like the price, put it back on the shelf and be on your way.” We think it makes us stronger when we don’t need to take moments to cry on the closet floor. We think our faith is stronger because we just keep smiling and pushing through every situation we encounter. But doesn’t Paul tells us that it’s in our <i>weakness</i> that we are made strong? You see, it’s not the <b><i>act</i></b> of anxiety or depression that is the issue—it’s our <i><b>response</b></i> to it. And, that response doesn’t have to be one of putting on your “big girl pants” and covering your wounds with a “God is sovereign” bandaid. We can still believe in the sovereignty of God when we cry and feel like we can barely catch our breath. Here is what that looks like for me lately… </span></p>
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<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgztKF7k7E0bG6SDABE1lY_KTe3gTDHRCG2f_pVfKK8DU4S7XZ9QQ2LPnd3qY1vsK3eu_Ula8dNaBUd9Iv4-5b52OX9dH8pdoW9LOZSsbm2kMjw2s0ASr0ToJTHJRJmr-9c8mvIHbIXIi6joxj5xgv4yZLycdFcuETWxoCQyydjCASUMt89cw6AajT8bsI/s2048/blackfriday23.jpeg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgztKF7k7E0bG6SDABE1lY_KTe3gTDHRCG2f_pVfKK8DU4S7XZ9QQ2LPnd3qY1vsK3eu_Ula8dNaBUd9Iv4-5b52OX9dH8pdoW9LOZSsbm2kMjw2s0ASr0ToJTHJRJmr-9c8mvIHbIXIi6joxj5xgv4yZLycdFcuETWxoCQyydjCASUMt89cw6AajT8bsI/s320/blackfriday23.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: xx-small;">Black Friday 2023</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Maybe I see a pregnancy announcement on Facebook and my heart sinks as I remember losing my Sparrow. I’m not upset that someone else has the joy of being pregnant—I’m just reminded of my loss and how much I miss our baby. But there are three directions these feelings can send me: </span><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">1. The easiest one to go to is that my heart sinks and I begin to think of everything that is going wrong in my life. I cry and become angry or hopeless or maybe even a mix of the two. I allow my grief to take my eyes <i>away</i> from Jesus. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">2. Another option is I stuff the tears down inside and just say, <i>“If I believe God is sovereign, then I need to move on.”</i> But then I’m not dealing with those emotions, and, trust me, those emotions will find their way out somewhere else, and I promise it’s never a pretty exit! (I’ve not only personally experienced my own pain pushing through, but I’ve been the recipient of seeing someone else’s come out. If you don’t allow yourself to feel the hurt now, you are likely going to end up allowing it to cause hurt to someone else later…) </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">3. But there’s also a third option. This one isn’t a quick option. It’s a <i>process</i>, and a process takes more time: I allow the tears to come and fall. I allow myself to express my sadness and even my anger or hopeless feelings. <b>BUT, then I lift my eyes up.</b> I tell God, <i>“This hurt is so great. I don’t understand why this happened, but I know You have a plan. Please help me to trust it. Please help me look to You in these hard moments and trust what YOU have in store for me. Thank You for what You’re doing in others’ lives and the joy that they’re getting to experience right now, and please help me to know You still have a plan for me, too…” </i>You see, my grief can actually be an opportunity to draw closer to Jesus when I recognize He’s sitting with me in the ashes, holding me, and collecting every tear that falls. I invite Him in to these moments of sadness and panic. I may not immediately rise up from it all, but if I can’t, I am still sitting in it in His presence. We can be victorious both when we allow Christ to lift us up from the ashes as well as when we allow Him to hold us and calm us through the storm. <b>Wherever we can find Jesus is exactly where He wants us to be</b>, and sometimes that is going to be in moments of the world closing in on you. We aren’t defeated when we fall, because we are being covered by the Almighty arms of our Saviour. </span></p>
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<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL_KSbNvklNex6Crz11qe6_-U5ucT4clEhxc8K8J3TBtryB3ChKxBCe3DEjMLkO7jgRPRbqpw73YAWunHg9NmSKiTTLUAB4WjNlfmLdARzBOlEXShyphenhyphenE8_9u4HoL09cyZlGzTUTyMjGG3Ajiw4g9Aa0_05egw901PEiCY0JMgH9yPrRXJzGxG2nsQtZwqI/s1600/mossimo%20shirt.jpeg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL_KSbNvklNex6Crz11qe6_-U5ucT4clEhxc8K8J3TBtryB3ChKxBCe3DEjMLkO7jgRPRbqpw73YAWunHg9NmSKiTTLUAB4WjNlfmLdARzBOlEXShyphenhyphenE8_9u4HoL09cyZlGzTUTyMjGG3Ajiw4g9Aa0_05egw901PEiCY0JMgH9yPrRXJzGxG2nsQtZwqI/w200-h200/mossimo%20shirt.jpeg" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: xx-small;">I had this exact shirt back in the day;-</span>)</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">I want to encourage you, friends: don’t let your grief send you into a hopeless state, but also don’t put your grief on the shelf and keep plugging along. God wants to show Himself to you through your blurred vision caused by the ugly tears. He’s allowing you to see life through a different lens. (Remember those Mossimo shirts back in the 90’s?) If we never sit in our grief, we never get to experience the compassion of a loving Father who wants to dress our wounds. He doesn’t just wipe away our tears—He COLLECTS them. And why? So that He can later pour them out over us in refreshment. See where you can find Him today, and make the choice to soak up His presence wherever that may be. It’s worth it, friend, because your grief actually has great value in the Kingdom of God!</span><p></p>Paula-Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760205491923422878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8482996357959707989.post-90188257619556306852023-10-24T11:07:00.000-07:002023-10-24T11:07:27.750-07:00Sorrowful, yet Joyful...<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-cGBgduOyGYcSXrWa3tMv1_hnLqokIiDbRmxTpT5QEkAhmIrGc4CvTXlBOeLauXz1eISphwqe-d0n-0Y1WlSz6v0Cz02wsOih38b433iGyQg1DOHJOb6cG_p5oUp1aapU8z2kIS3rKneQaDEZnh0KehEhLF8mlUo5l9l1A74KQs7qs6BjoCur33qNcfg/s5712/IMG_0095.heic" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4284" data-original-width="5712" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-cGBgduOyGYcSXrWa3tMv1_hnLqokIiDbRmxTpT5QEkAhmIrGc4CvTXlBOeLauXz1eISphwqe-d0n-0Y1WlSz6v0Cz02wsOih38b433iGyQg1DOHJOb6cG_p5oUp1aapU8z2kIS3rKneQaDEZnh0KehEhLF8mlUo5l9l1A74KQs7qs6BjoCur33qNcfg/s320/IMG_0095.heic" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The littles after one of GP and AB's performances</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">It's been a minute since I sat down and really blogged out my thoughts and feelings as of late. Part of that is because it's been very busy, and with that busy-ness I've felt a need to try to be in the moment as much as possible. </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwt8vVsadjtjXC12QRmPC-2PtsekixclEYuJ75Ca_5eWnZHFnhX_9FoRTW_9QLzOrZkeBJjihYucK7-GYjJ763rU7kocHkjTWrcE2k9uSK6YbiDeM6THuUKVsJ-0Gnr1amtoQj055wQIIhQl914wfqoSboAT_-Z2v-C6IDcmZbTAK0wVBVyW0qjHW7SWA/s5712/IMG_0106.heic" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></a></div><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5712" data-original-width="4284" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwt8vVsadjtjXC12QRmPC-2PtsekixclEYuJ75Ca_5eWnZHFnhX_9FoRTW_9QLzOrZkeBJjihYucK7-GYjJ763rU7kocHkjTWrcE2k9uSK6YbiDeM6THuUKVsJ-0Gnr1amtoQj055wQIIhQl914wfqoSboAT_-Z2v-C6IDcmZbTAK0wVBVyW0qjHW7SWA/s320/IMG_0106.heic" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Evangeline as "Sally" in her CARS <br />class Showcase Performance</td></tr></tbody></table><i>(Showcase performances for the classes I teach and that the kids take, rehearsals, tech week, performances, etc.)</i> For the past week, that meant stopping the tears when they would start and pushing down the heavy and hard feelings as they arose because I just didn't have the mental energy to deal with them. I've cried so many tears that my face often feels raw as if it's been scratched. But with everything going on in my "back to normal" life, I'm currently in the process of finding a way to balance out being "in the moment" while still making moments to deal with the grief. I can't say that I'm doing it well, but I feel like committing to the process of trying to do it well is something. <br /><br /></span></span></div><div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv1o7e1mJxrf1TJaMcJNLBgniFRRYje3stnBKJLmgKACYBy5d6L5ue9X0eaYtFyWQ0zLe7Pbvncq6Y3icVf1Wxj0DCwM2Vy6VI3A3rFjgIfP5zUqYCFMs52yiYPtvUq30pOSC-nybuN3-B-57EHv7RtEsU72LL9IbB-WEIxQQQ1W1scbMzcIsZ_oQQznY/s651/IMG_0132.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="651" data-original-width="630" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv1o7e1mJxrf1TJaMcJNLBgniFRRYje3stnBKJLmgKACYBy5d6L5ue9X0eaYtFyWQ0zLe7Pbvncq6Y3icVf1Wxj0DCwM2Vy6VI3A3rFjgIfP5zUqYCFMs52yiYPtvUq30pOSC-nybuN3-B-57EHv7RtEsU72LL9IbB-WEIxQQQ1W1scbMzcIsZ_oQQznY/s320/IMG_0132.jpg" width="310" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me directing at showcase performance</td></tr></tbody></table>Let me just take a moment to say that this whole "going back to normal life" feels almost like a Twilight Zone episode to me in many ways. Life feels anything but normal to me now. What I had envisioned this fall to be like has now taken a very different turn, and while the world continues on as if nothing has changed, I find myself trying to figure out where I fit since so much has changed for me. </i></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i><br /></i><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVyPqg2QSTTaAq_b9mL_FYmINNo8BIrOglQBmFCjkFvyYCZ_3jJVs55NMU8tqmfdwUQZDcGKmXyow2BLABjqdb3t6AnZmk1tuou4y2fTy-q84DF-utXSRVShOk_dLyimCv-0ITC_1loOTziowilwkz6RtEsyRIIXpz0nRlFqLwAVlleFJMkIsEjv0Vgq4/s1176/IMG_0131.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="677" data-original-width="1176" height="184" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVyPqg2QSTTaAq_b9mL_FYmINNo8BIrOglQBmFCjkFvyYCZ_3jJVs55NMU8tqmfdwUQZDcGKmXyow2BLABjqdb3t6AnZmk1tuou4y2fTy-q84DF-utXSRVShOk_dLyimCv-0ITC_1loOTziowilwkz6RtEsyRIIXpz0nRlFqLwAVlleFJMkIsEjv0Vgq4/s320/IMG_0131.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lucy (right) in my advanced vocal class</td></tr></tbody></table></div>Someone made the comment to me recently, "Well, it <i>looks</i> like you're doing pretty well..." <span style="background-color: white;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(245, 245, 245);">The truth? I’m learning how to function again in the world while now having to make a separate space for my grieving heart. I’m trying to figure out how to be present and share in the joys going on around me while having to make time to collapse and recover from holding back the tears. I’m attempting to focus on the joys before me while figuring out when I can find time to bandage the sorrow that still exists. When you continue to live life in a world that your baby no longer is a part of, you find yourself exhausted. You celebrate the highs, but the reality of the lows is not lost. This is some of what that's looked like for me the past few weeks...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6xHZlARD0x-EJ52lfzeiNaSUg2zM2nqmHfv8W_PpXt8QixBnjjz7TxrpVrgYIbebKvkJmnJXGDZSRaM7Fwa-bMY_5z8Iw2Tr5E-1Ep3JSq-fRzcMN5skAOOocbivep_lyMbB3QfFagKZwtN5h_eOHPHJizJ3UhS-KXGwLcrbc-BxS-SW5eBAJs8tpz-A/s2048/IMG_9934.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1639" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6xHZlARD0x-EJ52lfzeiNaSUg2zM2nqmHfv8W_PpXt8QixBnjjz7TxrpVrgYIbebKvkJmnJXGDZSRaM7Fwa-bMY_5z8Iw2Tr5E-1Ep3JSq-fRzcMN5skAOOocbivep_lyMbB3QfFagKZwtN5h_eOHPHJizJ3UhS-KXGwLcrbc-BxS-SW5eBAJs8tpz-A/s320/IMG_9934.JPG" width="256" /></a></span></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">My precious middles just closed out a two weekend, 9 performance run of <i style="caret-color: rgb(245, 245, 245);">Junie B Jones the Musical Jr. </i><span style="caret-color: rgb(245, 245, 245);">It was truly SUCH an adorable show, and the artistic team, cast, and crew did an incredible job of bringing the heartwarming story to life on the stage. </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(245, 245, 245);"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(245, 245, 245);">Gabriel had been in shows before we moved here, but it was his stage debut with CYT, and he played the role of Jose. He has such a beautiful voice, and it was so fun to see him and hear him. </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(245, 245, 245);">Annie had swore to me up and down for several years that she was "never" going to be on stage, but after enjoying her time on stage this summer through CCT, she decided the stage wasn't so bad after all, so </span><i style="caret-color: rgb(245, 245, 245);">Junie B. </i><span style="caret-color: rgb(245, 245, 245);">was her CYT stage debut as well. She got to announce the show each night to the audience, and it was so amazing to see her come alive on stage. She was confident, articulate, and a joy to watch.</span></span><div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIlCNPEdDPbcrcRnxvhyphenhyphenWP7Do5P3u3rXj3fk1yvEKm2JW5RCw50Zzm-C_vHpzrKgLLA8Tz6UwlocQNK8mD1pv3y5hK2dlDTkHaqN5pUWE7YaEMMb2ynXZt6DdSlFxhUsCXOipLEquCWfMepRvr9AYYnhJ5VdbO03Uax7AqSkAronb8C4_y99_P7AwuYYI/s5712/IMG_0073.HEIC" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a></div></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(245, 245, 245);"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvLzHPz58jG67TptdwzqUi5Z0-ZjwU2133MPCyqJBbMaOcrhGQqly9c2RGdTOlqdROC52iY_0Vn3LSD7iV4A0YKowrwqXhwJq29TR-Lpvv_ES3SBOC29pMqOo62Xxm2HgWyBQch6u9Uh8vgyWCHiR3W-j5a3GqOl49gkXmoVla-hTd9EK7HUuFBqdfo7k/s2895/96AEB3E9-B623-415D-853B-6A8B94B6AE29.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2895" data-original-width="2316" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvLzHPz58jG67TptdwzqUi5Z0-ZjwU2133MPCyqJBbMaOcrhGQqly9c2RGdTOlqdROC52iY_0Vn3LSD7iV4A0YKowrwqXhwJq29TR-Lpvv_ES3SBOC29pMqOo62Xxm2HgWyBQch6u9Uh8vgyWCHiR3W-j5a3GqOl49gkXmoVla-hTd9EK7HUuFBqdfo7k/s320/96AEB3E9-B623-415D-853B-6A8B94B6AE29.JPG" width="256" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Busy weekend of rehearsals and <br />performances</td></tr></tbody></table>If you're a parent, you've probably experienced this before like me: when you see your child doing something they love, it can bring tears to your eyes and make your heart just well up with so many emotions. I absolutely loved every moment of seeing Gabriel and Annie on stage the past two weekends! On opening weekend, I went from rehearsal with Lucy (which is truly such a blessing to get to do what I love and have my daughter there with me doing what she loves, too) to performances for Gabriel and Annie, and it was an entire weekend surrounded with my family and also so much support </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(245, 245, 245);">from friends. My heart was so full at all of the love and support from our CYT family. But I would find that while I did mostly okay around everyone, </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(245, 245, 245);">I would come home and literally just crash--physically and emotionally. It's hard to explain it, but it's basically just the feeling of being with those who you love and who love you back, and the joy of seeing your kids thrive, and the knowledge that God has truly given you so many amazing blessings in life mixed with the fact that my Sparrow will never get to experience any of that with us. I'm learning to embrace both the joys and the sorrows that coexist right now. I'm not sure I'm always doing it well, but as I stated earlier, I'm committed to the process, and I think that's a step in the right direction... </span></span></div><div><div><p></p><p><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(245, 245, 245);"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGzIvGgUsSKxisaqy-QGxKHVh5XNN_n0BHDnLO0J0NUXICLtBUtGeUv9V5EftYeeYwlWQq47oS7fjvRPVj-j9gqhXClPJlXiguNvkT_-yBz6scxZOQgph1j2NzDR839LklIzs0iiMEhLISIfhJD60hf7RFSgDHg_fL0Pil00Dma_MTgNcKToNA39ae7iM/s4032/IMG_0148.HEIC" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGzIvGgUsSKxisaqy-QGxKHVh5XNN_n0BHDnLO0J0NUXICLtBUtGeUv9V5EftYeeYwlWQq47oS7fjvRPVj-j9gqhXClPJlXiguNvkT_-yBz6scxZOQgph1j2NzDR839LklIzs0iiMEhLISIfhJD60hf7RFSgDHg_fL0Pil00Dma_MTgNcKToNA39ae7iM/s320/IMG_0148.HEIC" width="320" /></span></a><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Another peek into what that's looked like lately has been in deep cleaning and organizing. After an entire summer of being so sick from pregnancy-nausea coupled with a CRAZY schedule of activities, work, and church, my house was in desperate need of some extra attention. My closet needed cleaning out, and the little girls' room was beyond overdue from some attention. I think I'd been avoiding tackling it all for several reasons. One, it just felt overwhelming. But, two, it reminded me that it was in that shape because I'd been so sick, and I now had "nothing" to show for it. In reality, that's not entirely true, but that's how I felt. In fact, it made me mad. While cleaning out my closet, I came across the bike helmet I got for my birthday, just ten days before finding out I was pregnant. I had never used it since long distance cycling wasn't a good idea while pregnant, and the fact that I could use it now made me angry. I allowed myself to express that feeling, but I chose not to stay in it. I ended up taking my road bike out for a 20 mile ride, followed by another 12 a few days afterward. I had to stop a few times to wipe away some ugly tears, but it felt god to do something productive, just like it felt really good to make such great process in my closet and the little girls' room.</span><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCEjvWn7Mttd6KO-iz9WhcahGnkzNIBzqQ1MCZqrCF_NsSll1pI0mIBCSL3_UqLuRAlX57xC4yyA8hw8PuwZdETF3SwKcNIZ5SThkHtjlCjZ-7Zfrq8LnVPPQ9m3R5H250PqQgym-gwRQIbrcYRWPdt4bE8-CJKdRu2heIz5aJREkc5gpkEt_os0YzIwI/s5712/IMG_0218.HEIC" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5712" data-original-width="4284" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCEjvWn7Mttd6KO-iz9WhcahGnkzNIBzqQ1MCZqrCF_NsSll1pI0mIBCSL3_UqLuRAlX57xC4yyA8hw8PuwZdETF3SwKcNIZ5SThkHtjlCjZ-7Zfrq8LnVPPQ9m3R5H250PqQgym-gwRQIbrcYRWPdt4bE8-CJKdRu2heIz5aJREkc5gpkEt_os0YzIwI/s320/IMG_0218.HEIC" width="240" /></span></a></div><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(245, 245, 245);"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">While out on my ride, the song , "Keep Me in the Moment" by Jeremy Camp came on my Pandora station. It was while I was riding in a part of the neighborhood I rode in after I lost Baby Kiki. It was crazy to see the different between now and then--when I first started riding there last year, they had just begun building the houses, but now, most of the neighborhood is finished. So much has changed, not just in the neighborhood but in my own life. I repeated the words as a prayer, "Lord, keep me in the moment because I don't want to miss what you have for me." I was reminded to find joy in whatever my present circumstance may be. Yes, I was super sick with both Baby Kiki and Sparrow, but I was so grateful that I got to be pregnant with them, and while I will never stop grieving the fact that I never will get to hold those sweet baby girls in my arms, I also see what God has filled my arms with instead. It doesn't replace them, but it reminds me that He has a plan and a purpose for everything He allows in our lives. I won't always understand His ways, but I can always TRUST His ways. Just as this neighborhood has grown and changed in the last few years, I see how God is growing and changing me, and if I refuse to keep pressing forward, I'll miss out on what He's doing, and I don't want to miss what He desires to teach me and do through my life. </span></span></span><p></p><p><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(245, 245, 245);"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">One of my devotions this week focused on 2 Corinthians 6:10: <i>..."Sorrowful, yet always rejoicing..."</i></span></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_iibnRAAsnjZDJQLCXCxr1HQyFeK4nr8iQrLpdE7WJhkGmGCGXVcP5pHat42QVPTkxDy4JQLW6gxm7NBQOo_c6dlH-W4tOoTVEC7njqL6YsVBVf-BjTB5hZ2AtT0ITpfn4UKZkJShg_rom_d5cTRGO12JB7DFHsQR606_88GipnvZ3YwvY2ois3BrgnY/s3088/IMG_0219.heic" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2316" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_iibnRAAsnjZDJQLCXCxr1HQyFeK4nr8iQrLpdE7WJhkGmGCGXVcP5pHat42QVPTkxDy4JQLW6gxm7NBQOo_c6dlH-W4tOoTVEC7njqL6YsVBVf-BjTB5hZ2AtT0ITpfn4UKZkJShg_rom_d5cTRGO12JB7DFHsQR606_88GipnvZ3YwvY2ois3BrgnY/s320/IMG_0219.heic" width="240" /></span></a></div><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(245, 245, 245);"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Grieving as one with hope means finding that balance of being sorrowful yet joyful. And yes, there is SO so much in my life to be joyful about. I see the Lord’s hand on my life in so many ways—through the joys AND the sorrows. I’m reminded that I can have joy in the midst of my sorrow because I have hope in the One who has defeated death. But while I wait to see His glory fully revealed, there will be tears. And so I find Christ sitting with me in the dust, but I also find Him when I stand in the sun. His presence is there in both places, and if Christ can be present with me in both joy and sorrow then how is it wrong to grapple with both emotions? Whether this life sends me to my knees in defeat or pushes me to the heights in joy, Christ is still with me. I think, as Christians, we have been deceived in thinking that to have joy in Christ, we have to push through and be tough and not sit too long in our grief. It’s not the truth though, friend. My faith in God isn’t weak because I cry because it’s in those tears that I find Him in a new and fresh way when I allow Him to sit with me in the ashes. So yes, we make time to smile and enjoy life and rejoice in the good, but we also ALLOW grief to have its time and place. Whether in joy or sorrow, we can find our Father.</span></span><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVLRR9S6pZrFPzh-TNDNLHC39rrBu8INrFfU7oWMUhX75JQJLr-9aZsYmqKMsTd22rM8YCJeXJn2prkkWo2TTEp8Ovadv1nqVW7T79KqkVqQwAdnlM_qPzvgPEPApYDlA5Sna5zSbQRZgGkuxIAW_mZEe16_-lRvVbL8xyljWY05TmNparWo-2ymApLow/s2560/Attachment.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="2560" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVLRR9S6pZrFPzh-TNDNLHC39rrBu8INrFfU7oWMUhX75JQJLr-9aZsYmqKMsTd22rM8YCJeXJn2prkkWo2TTEp8Ovadv1nqVW7T79KqkVqQwAdnlM_qPzvgPEPApYDlA5Sna5zSbQRZgGkuxIAW_mZEe16_-lRvVbL8xyljWY05TmNparWo-2ymApLow/s320/Attachment.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(245, 245, 245);">So that's basically where I'm at in these "Twilight Zone" type of days--finding the balance of sorrow and joy and recognizing how my Heavenly Daddy can be </span></span><span style="caret-color: rgb(245, 245, 245);">found in both. I'm so thankful He's so patient with us and that He never tires of listening to our hurt--His mercies truly are new every single day.</span></span><p></p></div></div></div></div></div>Paula-Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760205491923422878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8482996357959707989.post-55024842958254990982023-10-12T00:57:00.002-07:002023-10-12T00:57:43.110-07:00Praising Him in the Yeses and in the Nos...<p>We had my post-op appointment today...</p><p>The specialist that performed my surgery is in Downtown Houston, and if you've ever driven there, you know that the traffic is absolutely insane. I remember the day of my surgery, we had to be there right during rush hour. We got stuck in so.much.traffic and then the GPS didn't get us to the right building, and then we missed the turn into the parking garage. I was beyond late, and I had no way to get in touch with who I was supposed to check in with at the hospital. Thankfully, they gave me a call to ask if I was still coming, and I explained what was going on. They were very gracious, no doubt because they know Houston traffic all too well! By the time we got there, my anxiety was pretty high, and my nausea was even worse! All of the stopping and starting in the car from the traffic had sent me over the edge past my already debilitating pregnancy nausea. There are many things that are emotional triggers when you're experiencing a pregnancy loss, and the fact that my body still had all of my pregnancy symptoms even though I was not carrying a live baby anymore was a big trigger for me. It feels as if your body is playing a very cruel trick on you--your belly is still rounded out, you still "look" pregnant <i>(in fact, it was just days before we found out we'd lost our baby girl that I bought my first pair of maternity leggings because my belly had finally popped. They're currently hidden somewhere in the closet. I can't bare to look for them to even get rid of them or to fold and put away in a storage container. I'd rather they just stay lost for now...)</i>, and you still "feel" pregnant...except you aren't. There's a part of you that wants to stay that way--to hold your baby in your belly as long as you possibly can because you know she'll never actually get to be held in your arms. Waking up from surgery with our first miscarriage and again with our second, the first thing I did was reach for my stomach and realize my baby was gone. It wasn't all a bad dream; it was the reality. My entire body and spirit felt completely empty. In some ways, I'm thankful they loaded me up with as many anti-nausea meds as they could, because it lessened the blow of everything since I wasn't quite "with it" for several hours. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqJUMgFuVG1l0wczLlzC1zq2Jxe74ocVkjrETD0hrmlMGoXRHI7FDrStVTHytUww21RXsVJuHMV6SL-nKqWl-gImO5CfXgnrLq5kO-ziHPUpCJ1Q8GMLLYFccU-KhuKpcm2JABzYoePlzZccV6WvnQH2LqfZR2wNr9QjwoPr3dJUb8issNzP0Q000gfPw/s4032/IMG_0434.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqJUMgFuVG1l0wczLlzC1zq2Jxe74ocVkjrETD0hrmlMGoXRHI7FDrStVTHytUww21RXsVJuHMV6SL-nKqWl-gImO5CfXgnrLq5kO-ziHPUpCJ1Q8GMLLYFccU-KhuKpcm2JABzYoePlzZccV6WvnQH2LqfZR2wNr9QjwoPr3dJUb8issNzP0Q000gfPw/s320/IMG_0434.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div>It's interesting the things that come to the forefront of your mind when your mind isn't exactly working at its fullest capacity. In recovery, I immediately felt an intense need to see my children. I needed to see that they were all okay. I told DH I needed to see our kids, so he showed me a picture from our family vacation, which apparently made me MAD. "No! I want to see them NOW! I want to see that they are okay in this very moment!" He sent my mom a text <i>(my precious momma drove in and stayed with us for a whole week)</i> and he said, "She says everyone is good!" I kept asking though, "NO! I need to SEE them!" It took awhile for GiGi to round everyone up for a photo, and I was being extremely impatient, but I settled down once I saw my four sweet babies all together smiling. <br /><p></p><p>Another thing at the forefront of my thoughts was work. I always geek out any time I go somewhere and see a grand piano, and this hospital had pianos everywhere! I guess I had remembered that because I told DH to grab my music so I could finish up recording for the show I'm vocal directing right now. I had stayed up late the night before I went in for the initial procedure for everything, and I was SO close to finishing recording all of the vocal parts for the show, but I couldn't quite get them all finished. I think there was a part of me that felt I had to rush back into the busyness of life. I wasn't pregnant anymore, and life had to move on. I was far from ready to move on, though. In fact, I'm still struggling with this. I was almost dreading today's appointment because it's kind of like a final chapter in all of this. Once the doctor "clears" you, it's as if it's all over...except it's not. I still find myself breaking into tears throughout the day. I so desperately want to still be carrying my baby with the wonderful expectation of getting to hold her in my arms in February. I know life has to go on, but it's a struggle to figure out how to resume normal life when your life will never be the same. </p><p>Because my first miscarriage brought about so many complications, my doctor chose to be extra cautious in my appointment today, ordering labs and tests and exams that she wouldn't normally do. My HCG levels are still elevated, and it looks like I have some sort of infection. She also ordered a sonogram...it almost felt cruel to have to lie on that table for an ultrasound. <i>(I'm not mad at her for it--she's been so thorough, informative, and extremely compassionate.)</i> I thought back to all of the times we went in for ultrasounds in my other pregnancies and seeing those sweet images on the screen. But today, there was nothing exciting to see on the screen, so I stared up at the ceiling and counted all of the tiles--15 regular sized ones in rows of 3, with a half square to the right and a 1/4 square to the left of each row. There were no pictures to print out with images that you could barely make out of what was the head and what was the rear, there was no heartbeat to hear...just ceiling tiles to count. Because of what was found on the ultrasound, which is likely the cause of all of the pain I've been having since my surgery, I now have to make a choice of how to take care of the issue. Those of you who know me well know that I can be extremely indecisive--I don't even like having to pick a restaurant to eat at, so all of these very big decisions that surround a second trimester pregnancy loss have been excruciating. All I can do is pray and ask God to guide me to the right choices. </p><p>When we arrived home, I quickly had to get Annie's makeup on for the kids' tech week rehearsal. While doing that, we discovered the dogs had both gone outside at the same time. This is only an issue when it has rained...which it had, and our pony of a puppy had THE best time rolling around in the mud trying to convince her brother Maxx to join in on the fun. (Being older and wiser, Maxx knew better.) This meant Ruby needed a bath ASAP, but bathing a 60 pound energetic dog is quite the task. As I was working on her, my husband came in to tell me his dad had fallen and his parents were at the hospital. He then came back to tell me they discovered his dad has broken his neck. I literally thought, "Lord, are you serious?? Why?" I honestly don't think we can handle any more surprises...or maybe it's just that I don't WANT to handle anymore surprises. It is definitely a time where it feels like when it rains, it POURS, and everything is left...muddy. <i>(We are still waiting on word for if DH's dad will need surgery or not. Please pray for him, for my Momma2, and for the doctors.)</i></p><p>As I've grappled with all of these thoughts today, the Lord brought to my mind a precious story that He's used again and again to comfort me. I've probably blogged about it before, and you've possibly even heard me share it, but I needed to be reminded of it tonight, so I'm going to share it once again...</p><p>Many of you know that my daddy passed away when I was pregnant with Lucy. It was such a hard year for our family: Michael was diagnosed with cancer, and after months of trying to get pregnant, we were told we might not ever be able to have children on our own. However, just a month later, we were pregnant with Lucy, but just a month after finding out we were having a girl, my daddy passed away suddenly. The year ended with the birth of our long-awaited baby girl. It was truly a rollercoaster of a year. As I struggled through my daddy's death, my home church's pastor shared a Truth with me that I have carried with me ever since. He said something along these lines: "Paula-Beth, you prayed and asked God for your husband to be ok. God said, 'Yes,' and you praised Him for it. Then you prayed and asked God to allow you to have a baby. Again, God said, 'Yes,' and you praised Him for it...but this time, God has said, 'No.' He didn't answer you like you wanted Him to, but He wants to know, will you praise Him as much when He says 'No' as you do when He says 'Yes'?" </p><p>That story has been brought back to my mind many times over the past 16 years, and I'm thankful God whispered it back to me again today. We prayed and asked God for a healthy pregnancy and to get to love and lead this child, but God said, "No," and He's asking me, once again, will I still praise Him, even in this? At this point, all I can do is ask the Lord to help me get to that point. I KNOW He is worthy of my praise, I know He is at work, and I know He will lead me to that place, but, for now, I just keep crawling into His arms for His comfort as I struggle through these moments. And you know what? My Jesus is so kind to be patient with me, to remind me of His Truth that He is worthy and at work, even in this. I'm clinging to Him in every moment and asking for the strength to glorify Him through this grief. I will say it again and again and again, not because I'm trying to convince myself, but because I refuse to let the Enemy drown out this Truth: "God, you are good, in both the yeses and nos."</p>Paula-Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760205491923422878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8482996357959707989.post-10880751285601827302023-10-10T22:19:00.000-07:002023-10-10T22:19:19.290-07:00A Changing of Seasons...<p><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTABR1-GqhEXhaRCBdNRC1Hl9pE2fWF1a-BqTCozRlBfxSqspdD_PWhElT1oIWEUBYznYBr7oWABQLCHjCTuSpUHoEtTbS-I3K_aNaFefRk7uCNxEZJF4CCd33gjieDeZID9uqg5pAjbCfOsn9za9KDV3G_6BVNTcXTXEot20B8Y4RhqUppxcOKjcaqSs/s960/IMG_0003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="960" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTABR1-GqhEXhaRCBdNRC1Hl9pE2fWF1a-BqTCozRlBfxSqspdD_PWhElT1oIWEUBYznYBr7oWABQLCHjCTuSpUHoEtTbS-I3K_aNaFefRk7uCNxEZJF4CCd33gjieDeZID9uqg5pAjbCfOsn9za9KDV3G_6BVNTcXTXEot20B8Y4RhqUppxcOKjcaqSs/s320/IMG_0003.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"></span></div><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">Fall has always been my favorite season, but I can’t say that this particular fall is my favorite.<br />It’s not the changes outside that I’m disliking. I still love it when I walk outside and there is a bite in the air from chillier temperatures, and I enjoy watching the leaves change colors and fall from their trees and dance in the wind. (We’ve only had a few days like that here in Texas, but this time of year always reminds me of the many falls I got to spend in Illinois where the change to fall was very much evident whereas, In Texas, fall is more of a “faux-l”🤣) The falling leaves from their absent trees remind me it’s time to let go and see what beauty will come from the process. But this particular fall, it’s harder to let go. Sure, there are some things I’m more than happy to let go of right now in my life. But there are others that are beyond painful to loosen from my grasp. It’s a season of loss that many of you may be all too familiar with. </span><p></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-_-O6T37Gqvc5ruunQGpmwivkYoi-4xPT5veKgQOOMXIt0sbOMSfjpEURmTueFL7aoX1pto8LWBdJSHGDhhXfPVp0CTDTpeTNnzDNlTl1MNZBY4HewOZvtU92hc4TM-PTnCdgY-BgrUn2C37jWGUhlvAJ3g1PvC8Euoah4Cd0bH4KiZ3Ae6YUsoLdtnM/s1283/IMG_9939.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1279" data-original-width="1283" height="319" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-_-O6T37Gqvc5ruunQGpmwivkYoi-4xPT5veKgQOOMXIt0sbOMSfjpEURmTueFL7aoX1pto8LWBdJSHGDhhXfPVp0CTDTpeTNnzDNlTl1MNZBY4HewOZvtU92hc4TM-PTnCdgY-BgrUn2C37jWGUhlvAJ3g1PvC8Euoah4Cd0bH4KiZ3Ae6YUsoLdtnM/s320/IMG_9939.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">Seasons in life don’t always give the telling signs of change like the seasons on our calendars. The moment the leaves would begin to turn and the wind would pick up in a different direction, I knew fall was coming in Illinois. (Whereas, in Texas, it’s usually the first sighting of pumpkins being sold at Walmart that signal fall is upon us and dinner in a pumpkin can go in the oven🤣) But seasons also change in our lives, too, and the change from one season to another isn’t quite as obvious. In other words, you usually can’t tell at the exact moment when you’re entering into a new stage in life. There’s not an alert you can set up on your phone’s calendar. In fact, this season change in my life has caused me to have to remove many of those alerts I had anticipated in my previous season-apps on my phone that told me what size the baby was growing into every Tuesday, doctor appointments I had already scheduled, my c-section date when we would get to hold our baby in our arms…all dates I visibly could see and was greatly anticipating have now been removed, and with their removal, I can see how the season has changed in my life. Yes, now that I’ve had a few moments to breathe from the shock of everything, I can see it more clearly as I’ve begun the process of grieving what I thought life would look like in this moment instead of the cruel reality of what has become. I can see now when the seasons changed, but it wasn’t as graceful and beautiful as the sight of a colorful leaf floating to the ground. It was sudden and challenging, crushing and heartbreaking, and somehow hurtful and numbing all at the same time. And yet, as much as I find myself hating this unwanted change, I’m reminded… </span><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><i>“To everything there is a season and a time for every matter under Heaven: </i></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><i>A time to be born and a time to die,</i></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><i>A time to plant and a time to uproot,</i></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><i>A time to kill and a time to heal,</i></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><i>A time to tear down and a time to build, </i></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><i>A time to weep and a time to laugh, </i></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><i>A time to mourn and a time to dance,</i></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><i>A time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, </i></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><i>A time to embrace and a time to refrain,</i></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><i>A time to search and a time to give up, </i></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><i>A time to keep and a time to throw away. </i></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><i>A time to fear and a time to mend.</i></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><i>A time to be silent and a time to speak,</i></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><i>A time to love and a time to hate,</i></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><i>A time for war and a time for peace. </i></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><i>What does the worker gain from his toil? I have seen the burden God has laid on men. He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end.” (Ecclesiastes 3:1-11) </i></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">I want to make sense of all that has transpired in these last several weeks, yet </span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">I’m reminded that I’m not always going to be able to fathom what God is doing, yet I CAN always find the signs of His presence in the midst of these changes. I think the questions we always want to ask in situations like this are something like the following:</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">“God, WHY??” </span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">“Why are you allowing this?” </span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">“Why did this have to happen?” </span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">“Why didn’t You stop this from taking place?” </span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">“Why did you allow the joy of this baby to come into my life if You were only going to take her away?”</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">The beauty is that God allows me to shake my fists into the air and question Him, and He is patient with me to guide those fists back down in prayer and worship of Him. It’s a process He allows me to go through that ultimately draws me closer to Him when I finally let those fists down in surrender and then open up my palms and ask a different set of questions. Instead of why, I begin to ask what, and how:</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTCjiPw7HHRLPs-OV_3Ja7YX6ZzFrO2f0ojKrAsp73ZuiW-gugeGgQcDFo9QANFO3PB_xUWBJB_AQdwUzbf8OGMVXl_hIPKprwJZ7G-aSZ6ikid8lNOhSp59cMknhh5ago5x8VjKIl7ZlyOafL1c17oOLFwieB23RcDXZ6JVnzXcoF6F-rzyC5JmnD13c/s1444/IMG_9951.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1444" data-original-width="1179" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTCjiPw7HHRLPs-OV_3Ja7YX6ZzFrO2f0ojKrAsp73ZuiW-gugeGgQcDFo9QANFO3PB_xUWBJB_AQdwUzbf8OGMVXl_hIPKprwJZ7G-aSZ6ikid8lNOhSp59cMknhh5ago5x8VjKIl7ZlyOafL1c17oOLFwieB23RcDXZ6JVnzXcoF6F-rzyC5JmnD13c/s320/IMG_9951.jpg" width="261" /></a></div><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>“Lord, WHAT are you wanting to do in this situation?” </span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">“God, WHAT is your purpose for me in this?” </span><p></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">“Father, HOW can I respond in a way that will bring You the most glory?”</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">The obstacles we face in this life are opportunities for us to come face to face with our Father. Because of Who He is, He alone is able to take our losses and breathe life into us. It’s not until I hit the bottom that I can experience Him lifting me back up. Without the pain of hurt, loss and grief, I would never get to experience the comfort my Heavenly Father longs to show to His child. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">Ultimately, God wants me to turn to Him with thanksgiving and praise. Job, in the darkest of circumstances, was able to turn to the Lord and say, “In all circumstances—whether You give or You take away—I choose to bless your name—to praise You!” It often takes a bit of time to get to that point where I can say, “Lord, I praise you that my baby is no longer with us…” Just the act of writing those words brings me to tears and makes me uncomfortable. But I WANT to be at that point. Many would say my inability to proclaim that right now is sinful, but the truth is this: God knows my heart. He knows that my deepest desire is to praise Him through even this. At my core, I know He’s working this all together for my good and His glory. But right now, I’m in the thick of grieving through it all. It’s what I call the stage of “Lord I believe; help my unbelief.” God isn’t chastising me for grieving; He’s carrying me through it, and He’s also bringing people-His hands and His feet-into my life who are helping me carry this heavy load. These are the things I CAN praise Him for right now as I struggle to voice the other. </span><p></p>
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<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM_qoEB7DkDyB7Ar72svFpkxbbp8bgoJItK7o7U5-JhGOdAAmmFG4T5dT6sEXid_RZ1E5q6jcj1AJqWw5lYab1Ju_y20XvIfJOFMiz_fvINy39R5lhCz7g7fflXvRmYFNScuG4X0QMrK9bM_pGwp44mYWMx4Pja_7sqJ0rbrl2PLxR1_lYbCR7QJL3WSs/s1899/IMG_0002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1741" data-original-width="1899" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM_qoEB7DkDyB7Ar72svFpkxbbp8bgoJItK7o7U5-JhGOdAAmmFG4T5dT6sEXid_RZ1E5q6jcj1AJqWw5lYab1Ju_y20XvIfJOFMiz_fvINy39R5lhCz7g7fflXvRmYFNScuG4X0QMrK9bM_pGwp44mYWMx4Pja_7sqJ0rbrl2PLxR1_lYbCR7QJL3WSs/s320/IMG_0002.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">A dear friend recommended a book to me this week: “The Book of Common Courage” by K.J. Ramsey. In it, she says, “Courage is not the possession of the bravest or biggest but the choice to move toward the heart when the mind and body are separated by fear. Courage is the choice to move our fear into communion….Courage is the practice of trusting we have a Good Shepherd who always cares…” You see, our grief isn’t sinful and our tears are not shameful. Rather, our struggles give us the opportunity to question God and lean on Him more than we ever have before. We can choose to let our grief help us dive into a deeper realization of our need for our Saviour. In these times of sorrow and hurt, we also receive the ability to experience God’s presence in a new way. We often see the Lord as all powerful and mighty, capable of any and all things. We see the promise of Him going before us to prepare us and behind us to protect us, but in times of grief, we can also experience Him being WITH us. </span><p></p>
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<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">Friend, if you’re experiencing a changing of seasons into a time of loss, know that you aren’t alone. Loss may signify death to us, but those who are in Christ have the promise of His victory over death. I don’t know how He will choose to redeem the loss we encounter, but I do know He promises to do so. Some days I’m able to cling to that promise more surely, and other days I find my fists up in the air again with questions and hurt, but in all circumstances, He is with me, and He is with you, too.</span></p></div>Paula-Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760205491923422878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8482996357959707989.post-68401931433206652932023-09-28T13:15:00.003-07:002023-09-28T13:15:59.803-07:00God’s Promises…<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9It_k-qO7kM4TvsRg2a9TVZiYiTomTmcu9g2zXdEge6J8jsSjtT9qxz82MI-rEoF20aTFcNCgLHz5pKBj1y3v7fRIYDqPV5t3kIZTd22K0SmZ2nq_hu29w-bkPwlHyLoVTpW4lyHKOAEtyUjz0CJUDw3ZhmiETQvzYOLc0itB0RWwPoVDJwHhedaRTo0/s960/IMG_0498.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="622" data-original-width="960" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9It_k-qO7kM4TvsRg2a9TVZiYiTomTmcu9g2zXdEge6J8jsSjtT9qxz82MI-rEoF20aTFcNCgLHz5pKBj1y3v7fRIYDqPV5t3kIZTd22K0SmZ2nq_hu29w-bkPwlHyLoVTpW4lyHKOAEtyUjz0CJUDw3ZhmiETQvzYOLc0itB0RWwPoVDJwHhedaRTo0/s320/IMG_0498.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.59px; text-align: left;">There’s something special and almost magical about spotting a rainbow. The vibrant colors reflected in the sky are truly a beautiful sight to see, and from a spiritual standpoint it’s a significant reminder of the promises of God. God used the rainbow to specifically promise that He would never flood the entire earth again. As believers, this beautiful symbol can also remind us of each of His promises upon our lives.</span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigOB9Aed1s5j40inbhWIJdjJIDb6DN1pHI8IZGS_zsH_30u17eXOU7tiCdEes0ofSlPzCweyslgCGzqRNE0Vu-dKQUwve6mHDoqEpPRu6j3v6iP-8d8Q7oMcMwaZFAk2DTR7xMbCDkGUzE2ArRAN8hCWqmci8vm9taqRJNiEtjzkQjE7Fu9vWgpJEzwHw/s997/IMG_9729.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="997" data-original-width="828" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigOB9Aed1s5j40inbhWIJdjJIDb6DN1pHI8IZGS_zsH_30u17eXOU7tiCdEes0ofSlPzCweyslgCGzqRNE0Vu-dKQUwve6mHDoqEpPRu6j3v6iP-8d8Q7oMcMwaZFAk2DTR7xMbCDkGUzE2ArRAN8hCWqmci8vm9taqRJNiEtjzkQjE7Fu9vWgpJEzwHw/s320/IMG_9729.jpeg" width="266" /></a></div><span style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.59px;">When I was a teenager, there was a popular CCM artist who had a very heavy classically trained pianist background. I spent hours a day in my teenage and early adult years training as a classical pianist, so I really resonated with his music. At that time, the local Christian radio station would frequently play his song “Rainbows in the Night.” Listening to it today, many would find it sounds pretty dated as styles have changed quite a bit since then, but I still love the gorgeous classical solo moments and the deep meaning to the lyrics: </span><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 18.6px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24.1px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.59px;"></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 18.6px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheeXBBYG9nv0vb0ZfRrPZnfaLgmFAqWU-OqsmKr7-Muj-EBDuNb7Z4w1OBNIa848h0sOOOJ7tUE4pLWpDQj1Kd2EP48ujX1biPlBcBgx62krrvwadkulIYtd_Cr4Tl4UW4dVfatY46wddBokfJCDTr2tZ7OIHrytSIE-t0Az9D4tXCg-qz5fFDydXJzG8/s4032/IMG_9799.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheeXBBYG9nv0vb0ZfRrPZnfaLgmFAqWU-OqsmKr7-Muj-EBDuNb7Z4w1OBNIa848h0sOOOJ7tUE4pLWpDQj1Kd2EP48ujX1biPlBcBgx62krrvwadkulIYtd_Cr4Tl4UW4dVfatY46wddBokfJCDTr2tZ7OIHrytSIE-t0Az9D4tXCg-qz5fFDydXJzG8/s320/IMG_9799.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.59px;"><i>[Verse 1]</i></span><div><i style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.59px;">Deep within this darkened heart of mine</i><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 18.6px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.59px;"><i>The Word of God still shines with hope</i></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 18.6px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.59px;"><i>Deep within this frightened life I live</i></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 18.6px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.59px;"><i>A voice so soft and still grows</i></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 18.6px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.59px;"><i>And when the sun is hidden</i></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 18.6px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.59px;"><i>And the shadows cloud my starless skies</i></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 18.6px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.59px;"><i>Amazingly, I turn and see a light</i></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 18.6px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><i style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.59px;"><br /></i></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 18.6px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqzbqulGLP3f8XBzpctOsF56ypdDKOmkcMpgBDsgJrAgt6p9OpFHDFeMMmNaMFnmathSbG7ndphZUyE5sC-DOaeI1bu1uDuAz219m8IeOHM_pOLfSMKdWGUJO2NTHtdlnjb2FQly97x0rXnqOxS8ARcLcbkcPHtUThUNB1a3NQO-sHLsDJ79fYY0yB-BA/s4032/IMG_9801.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqzbqulGLP3f8XBzpctOsF56ypdDKOmkcMpgBDsgJrAgt6p9OpFHDFeMMmNaMFnmathSbG7ndphZUyE5sC-DOaeI1bu1uDuAz219m8IeOHM_pOLfSMKdWGUJO2NTHtdlnjb2FQly97x0rXnqOxS8ARcLcbkcPHtUThUNB1a3NQO-sHLsDJ79fYY0yB-BA/s320/IMG_9801.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><i style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.59px;">[Chorus]</i><p></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 18.6px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><i style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.59px;">God's promises are rainbows in the night</i></p><div><i style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.59px;">Shining hope inside when shadows cloud my eyes</i><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 18.6px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.59px;"><i>His promises are rainbows in the night</i></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 18.6px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.59px;"><i>Guiding through the darkest times</i></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 18.6px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.59px;"><i>God's promises are rainbows in the night</i></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 18.6px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24.1px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.59px;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 18.6px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.59px;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.59px;">You may be aware that a baby born after a miscarriage is often referred to as a “rainbow baby.” This is because rainbows symbolize beauty after a dark time just like the birth of a baby brings joy after such a tragic loss. Our pregnancy in 2022 was something we’d never planned on, but when we miscarried, our family was suddenly missing someone. We prayed and asked God what He would birth from that feeling, so when we became pregnant again this year, we were cautiously ecstatic. Conversations soon became centered around “When the baby comes…” as we prepared for this precious one’s arrival. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhgWE2B_PuPxlnlEf3-IzPadJqcAatPPCJSwFU42Afh57Uaro6lyBLkgRObrieirxsYmw5Jgxi5Vr0SHtJ6kMeEVJGrG7HrAZ1q2Gk-qOiI-FbzkUoigwyh_VzHV1mypxJ627N7w5gLDdBjoTq3fScqwJvNdIQdwZrXDpAR0aqyH6jh-9FjGhXX_4UKHU/s5712/IMG_9789.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5712" data-original-width="4284" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhgWE2B_PuPxlnlEf3-IzPadJqcAatPPCJSwFU42Afh57Uaro6lyBLkgRObrieirxsYmw5Jgxi5Vr0SHtJ6kMeEVJGrG7HrAZ1q2Gk-qOiI-FbzkUoigwyh_VzHV1mypxJ627N7w5gLDdBjoTq3fScqwJvNdIQdwZrXDpAR0aqyH6jh-9FjGhXX_4UKHU/s320/IMG_9789.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div>I struggled every day with fear of losing this baby, too, but I knew I had to choose to trust. (I think we often shame ourselves when we struggle with fear, but it’s not the actual fear that is the problem. Rather, it’s what we choose to DO with that fear. For me, this meant I had to make a constant choice to look to the Lord, and isn’t that where we ultimately want to be?) As I daily chose to surrender my fears and trust the Lord, a frequent prayer was that God would prepare my heart to grieve or rejoice for whatever HIS plan was for this baby. In the end, this meant that the Lord was preparing my heart to grieve another loss, as Sparrow was not meant to be our rainbow baby. </span><p></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 18.6px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24.1px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.59px;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 18.6px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.59px;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.59px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinmvPh9Ac8Cmu2eJRlwE0KPEB6ZXjYwZEKqsaCKFXpzAfCWli-tquPeFyPwJDRAJxjsCobumy3VB2G0GWY2JWeAY3pM93xmVayZv78a3XAstnUvVebvNaVyYT77eEwX2XJokhIY1KjErXPoa0VDFzEvOGRXHrnxjrXCH0eLZ7uMmGRDluo5RJabYfqaIg/s5712/IMG_9787.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5712" data-original-width="4284" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinmvPh9Ac8Cmu2eJRlwE0KPEB6ZXjYwZEKqsaCKFXpzAfCWli-tquPeFyPwJDRAJxjsCobumy3VB2G0GWY2JWeAY3pM93xmVayZv78a3XAstnUvVebvNaVyYT77eEwX2XJokhIY1KjErXPoa0VDFzEvOGRXHrnxjrXCH0eLZ7uMmGRDluo5RJabYfqaIg/s320/IMG_9787.jpeg" width="240" /></a></span></div><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.59px;">Before my surgery, a sweet friend brought a meal over to our house along with the most precious gift—glasswork art of a rainbow. She told me that as she made it, she prayed for our family. It’s hanging in the window by where I have my quiet time, and I love how the sun shines so brightly into it at certain points of the day, reflecting such rich, vivid colors. </span><div><span style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNmwBp2s5agMJP84FUUSI0XjtgUeIlRxT7Fn68DQf1VEvdyzbz9ZwDcvtWPG6am4HO4O8GUD5YHHU7HlMTMWrdEg2wqVugqZ1B3InfHKN9rN2X6LT0LWbpGex2erv-yGkY_DvZypmjf0O4L1w6iTehZjhw-Ftq-4X7bWGw3Qh4NjkbxaScD6OCYCV0Xp8/s5712/IMG_9788.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4284" data-original-width="5712" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNmwBp2s5agMJP84FUUSI0XjtgUeIlRxT7Fn68DQf1VEvdyzbz9ZwDcvtWPG6am4HO4O8GUD5YHHU7HlMTMWrdEg2wqVugqZ1B3InfHKN9rN2X6LT0LWbpGex2erv-yGkY_DvZypmjf0O4L1w6iTehZjhw-Ftq-4X7bWGw3Qh4NjkbxaScD6OCYCV0Xp8/s320/IMG_9788.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 18.6px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.59px;">As I reflect on losing Sparrow, I will be totally honest with where I’m at in this process of my grief which is I just do not understand how this could be God’s plan for us. Why even allow us to get pregnant again if He was going to take this baby from us? I’m thankful God allows me to come to Him with these questions. Rather than blame Him or become bitter, though, I so desire to surrender the hurt and confusion and just let Him wash over me with His comfort and love and grace. I’m reminded I can question God while still ultimately choosing to trust Him. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-rW2XItyalSYj1enxI-dqY6wiiw5vJnq1f2duMSkjKrDQY-TOsAwTSS7yZx24f5s05WZUKEVfXqfK0BmA29pHP_aSU56q0ixh2-odbI-EG1ZqW9G9ahNiFERMJ5KcEJXSsjYD9SCOWLaRh3NS6VBlvAmY0KP0RW0H0dpyheosXdg9DMtNEij3WjniX4Q/s1080/IMG_9755.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="305" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-rW2XItyalSYj1enxI-dqY6wiiw5vJnq1f2duMSkjKrDQY-TOsAwTSS7yZx24f5s05WZUKEVfXqfK0BmA29pHP_aSU56q0ixh2-odbI-EG1ZqW9G9ahNiFERMJ5KcEJXSsjYD9SCOWLaRh3NS6VBlvAmY0KP0RW0H0dpyheosXdg9DMtNEij3WjniX4Q/w305-h305/IMG_9755.jpeg" width="305" /></a><span style="font-size: 18.59px; text-align: left;">I have come to terms with realizing I may never understand why this played out the way that it has, but I do know that the Enemy would love nothing more in this situation than for me to allow my limited understanding of God’s plan to cause me to question my ability to trust in Him. Anger, bitterness, and confusion won’t bring my baby girl back, but surrender to the Lord will bring me comfort as I struggle through my hurt, grief, and loss. It’s in the darkest of night when we get the blessing of experiencing a peace and comfort that only our Heavenly Father can give. I can understand joy better when I have experienced sorrow. I grieve deeply because I loved deeply, and I can recognize beauty more fully when I know what it feels like to sit among ashes. No one wants to experience pain, but we get the opportunity of experiencing comfort on a deeper level when we have endured great hurt and loss. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.59px; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.59px; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdK9Qx_n6zb9t6Vpv33qlHBm2YaTQS0Mfn8JUnT0552b-J9HWZ_WkpHnn0IU6ec5L84nNDCWbyr2pwjM5Vikw4LFQx7TE8OfXpSB7zQbjbY6lfYHnBru9PIQbxCZaAK6FV6UaEx7vVM_JLDCgReOjvs6rL2fJq3DO76bHP4af0VrKcSQe-pHEXhnPtuhQ/s1157/FDFBE1B5-A6E6-4CC3-B97D-BB469CB77670.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="1157" height="177" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdK9Qx_n6zb9t6Vpv33qlHBm2YaTQS0Mfn8JUnT0552b-J9HWZ_WkpHnn0IU6ec5L84nNDCWbyr2pwjM5Vikw4LFQx7TE8OfXpSB7zQbjbY6lfYHnBru9PIQbxCZaAK6FV6UaEx7vVM_JLDCgReOjvs6rL2fJq3DO76bHP4af0VrKcSQe-pHEXhnPtuhQ/s320/FDFBE1B5-A6E6-4CC3-B97D-BB469CB77670.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>As we drove home from the hospital on Friday after my surgery, it started to rain. Just one exit from our home, my husband said, “Paula-Beth, look! Look at the sky!” As I looked up, I saw a full rainbow painted across the sky. My husband and I both began to cry. It was as if the Lord was saying, “I see you, and I see your pain. You are not forgotten. Don’t forget the promises I have for your life.” </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpMxM4G5YRSwhOPChW0Oq9tUIw2d-ct7WLYX4gfQORMg5mqXB8OjYPKZCVL-0DL-AixL1xuoFXsC0dfOh0cjBOVw82szsOxooUsSZIQ58y1bovipBNQGOpaxkTiiTeITbOFXKRAGgt0Af8CMmaeLWBQSJdU0Z2_YEnIWiDEvG9apOnAgn8MsjNxXKfaf8/s4032/IMG_9719.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpMxM4G5YRSwhOPChW0Oq9tUIw2d-ct7WLYX4gfQORMg5mqXB8OjYPKZCVL-0DL-AixL1xuoFXsC0dfOh0cjBOVw82szsOxooUsSZIQ58y1bovipBNQGOpaxkTiiTeITbOFXKRAGgt0Af8CMmaeLWBQSJdU0Z2_YEnIWiDEvG9apOnAgn8MsjNxXKfaf8/s320/IMG_9719.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><p></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 18.6px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.59px;">I know we are being held by the Ultimate Comforter as we wade through this season of intense grief. I know His promises are just as true today as they were two weeks ago when my baby was still alive. Again and again I will choose to trust. This is a dark time in our lives, but we know He has overcome the darkness, and in His kindness He continues to send us messages that point to His light piercing through these dark moments. His Word is True, and He is ever faithful and good, friends. As I wrote these words the other day as the rain fell against my window, this was my prayer: <i>"I’m going to cling to Your Truth, Your faithfulness, and Your goodness with all I have today as I hear the storms raging outside on this rainy fall day, and as the storms of my life rage up within me. Yes God, you are still good, even in this." </i></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.59px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu3iTQwpC5CYRp6ia5hcJsIgJYHGYULClB-s100z8Y7oNPp6lJPWgRi4lt06OcFDSYYPl9hqoIV4PKt5M7TsW1_ultf4AvRPOOzF24XVGx4auo6CVRgyhK89-9Ua-dNrM99RKnl8rxBuOyL7Q5r3r2PceMvZVtjKJn5CkZmRW88b00wI7YDV2k8Lv7-1I/s4032/IMG_9791.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu3iTQwpC5CYRp6ia5hcJsIgJYHGYULClB-s100z8Y7oNPp6lJPWgRi4lt06OcFDSYYPl9hqoIV4PKt5M7TsW1_ultf4AvRPOOzF24XVGx4auo6CVRgyhK89-9Ua-dNrM99RKnl8rxBuOyL7Q5r3r2PceMvZVtjKJn5CkZmRW88b00wI7YDV2k8Lv7-1I/s320/IMG_9791.jpeg" width="240" /></a></span></div><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.59px;"><br /></span><p></p></div></div></div></div>Paula-Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760205491923422878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8482996357959707989.post-58406889639177922942023-09-24T01:36:00.006-07:002023-09-24T01:48:43.638-07:00Being the Hands and Feet of Christ<p></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 18.6px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18.59px;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1"><span style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-family: times; font-size: large;">Just a head's up: this is a long post. I thought about breaking it up, but wasn't sure the best way to do that. Writing has always been cathartic for me, and right now, I just need to be able to speak what's on my heart. As much as I hope all of these words are able to minister to someone, I needed to find an outlet to just </i><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>express</i></span><i style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"> </i><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>where</i></span><i style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"> I'm at right now, and apparently, there's a lot swarming around in my brain these days! Whether or not you make it through this entire post, thanks for giving me an opportunity to share my heart...</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><br /></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: times; font-size: large; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPCd100Y-VSwcaC7_hpF71u_0EEbFz4MddUR1c-nz556HPYBS3qG-UpIcN3J8I2vhcMxdY2lJdavaIYrv1kFUG62XmkNLf1LMI2e4ULBf0wIi20QQ3cQw852BJXSO2NGrXamHWxCstoMnNGX5SfCoBcIxQ62blixhIc0KRKvEF3oWjwWbgH_qKQWwF7uo/s1008/IMG_9737.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1008" data-original-width="828" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPCd100Y-VSwcaC7_hpF71u_0EEbFz4MddUR1c-nz556HPYBS3qG-UpIcN3J8I2vhcMxdY2lJdavaIYrv1kFUG62XmkNLf1LMI2e4ULBf0wIi20QQ3cQw852BJXSO2NGrXamHWxCstoMnNGX5SfCoBcIxQ62blixhIc0KRKvEF3oWjwWbgH_qKQWwF7uo/s320/IMG_9737.JPG" width="263" /></a></div><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">I think anyone reading this has walked through some sort of tragedy in life, and I hope you’ve been blessed by having people come alongside you as you struggle down a path you never expected to have to walk. These paths are numerous in type and unique to each individual, though, and</span></span></span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">many of us often struggle in finding the best way to come alongside those we care about in their times of grief, loss, pain, etc. As I was reflecting on how so many have reached out to us during this recent unexpected turn in our life, I wanted to share my gratitude for all that everyone has done, but also offer some ideas on how to come alongside each other for those of us who struggle knowing what to do when tragedy strikes those we love…</span></div></span></span></span></div><p></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24.1px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">The last week+ has been a devastating one for our family learning that our baby was no longer growing inside of me. Many of you know I had a late first trimester loss back in April of 2022. It was a total surprise pregnancy that rocked our world, but we quickly became ecstatic to tackle what we thought was a new and exciting path for our family. We have grieved over losing that precious baby girl, so when God surprised us with a “rainbow baby” back in June, we felt overwhelmed with the blessing and excitement to have the opportunity to add another member to our family. I had to remind myself daily that it was okay to both be extremely excited but hold all things loosely, knowing that God’s ways are perfect and good, and I could trust Him with whatever outcome He had for this new pregnancy. Our baby was fully formed with all of her organs in place and my body was busy providing what she needed to grow inside of me. But it was not God’s plan for us to get to bring this baby home and love her in our arms. I may never understand the reason for this loss on this side of Heaven, but it doesn’t change the Truths that God has promised me: </span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24.1px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><span class="s1">“…I will </span><span class="s2" style="font-weight: bold;">never leave</span><span class="s1"> you or forsake you.” (Deuteronomy 31:6) </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24.1px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><span class="s1">“The Lord is </span><span class="s2" style="font-weight: bold;">FAITHFUL</span><span class="s1"> to all His promises and </span><span class="s2" style="font-weight: bold;">LOVING</span><span class="s1"> to all He has made.” (PSALM 145:13)</span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24.1px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><span class="s1">“…for the Lord </span><span class="s2" style="font-weight: bold;">comforts</span><span class="s1"> His people and will have </span><span class="s2" style="font-weight: bold;">compassion</span><span class="s1"> on His afflicted ones.” Isaiah 49:13b </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24.1px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><span class="s1">“When you pray, I will </span><span class="s2" style="font-weight: bold;">answer</span><span class="s1"> you. When you call to me I will </span><span class="s2" style="font-weight: bold;">respond</span><span class="s1">…” (Isaiah 58:9a)</span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24.1px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><span class="s1">“The Lord, the Lord God, is </span><span class="s2" style="font-weight: bold;">merciful</span><span class="s1"> and </span><span class="s2" style="font-weight: bold;">gracious</span><span class="s1">, </span><span class="s2" style="font-weight: bold;">longsuffering</span><span class="s1">, and </span><span class="s2" style="font-weight: bold;">abounding in goodness</span><span class="s1"> and truth.” (Exodus 34:6)</span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24.1px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><span class="s1">“…For Lord will go </span><span class="s2" style="font-weight: bold;">before</span><span class="s1"> you,the God of Israel will be your rear guard (</span><span class="s3" style="font-style: italic;">also go </span><span class="s4" style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">behind</span><span class="s3" style="font-style: italic;">you</span><span class="s1">)…” (Isaiah 52:12b)</span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24.1px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">We see the character of God and His promises to His people woven throughout Scripture. I could easily go on and on, as my list is far too short, but hopefully you’re catching my drift that the Word of God is True and we can trust Who He is. I’m not capable of fully understanding His ways because I’m not yet fully glorified with Him.<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWW9hsuVGYesp-SlymsStQNboznoqa9oljtQeL9Q-SKwYgXUkNuwYfexVyuo5B1T6LU_G49Ce_xTRBK7PBk2Tf0do5lIJ4KNNQxIaqQDglo477WhGojsLZM-c1PJ_iv_f3GcroWNYIiHK1NQc-ih-b6pobUcYA2lyDCy8f56lREGpl2kea5AsZJizBbgs/s768/isaiah-55_8.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="768" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWW9hsuVGYesp-SlymsStQNboznoqa9oljtQeL9Q-SKwYgXUkNuwYfexVyuo5B1T6LU_G49Ce_xTRBK7PBk2Tf0do5lIJ4KNNQxIaqQDglo477WhGojsLZM-c1PJ_iv_f3GcroWNYIiHK1NQc-ih-b6pobUcYA2lyDCy8f56lREGpl2kea5AsZJizBbgs/s320/isaiah-55_8.png" width="320" /></a></div></span></div><p></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span><span class="s1" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><span><span class="s1"><span style="text-align: left;"></span></span></span></span></div></blockquote></blockquote><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><span><span class="s1"><span style="text-align: left;">I can, however, trust His heart, and it’s a choice I get to make whether or not I will do so when faced with circumstances completely out of my control. One thing I never lose control over, though, is my choice in how to respond to what He allows in my life, and that has been a hard reality lately during this time of mourning. I believe God knows our human minds will often struggle to truly understand His character-His goodness- when our circumstances seem anything BUT “good,” but He is merciful to us in our questioning. I believe we often experience both His mercy on us and a glimpse into His character by Him giving us tangible reminders through the outpouring of love of His people. He’s been so gracious to bless me with that in this situation, and it’s made me realize ways I can bless others with a tangible expression of God’s love when they are hurting. With this, I realized maybe I’m not the only one who sometimes struggles with trying to navigate sorrow with a loved one when you haven’t walked a similar road. So, I just wanted to take an opportunity to share how others have responded to us in the past week and a half. My heart is both so full of gratitude and grief at the same time. It’s a strange combination to experience, but I thank Him for coupling my grief with His tangible compassion. </span></span></span></span></div><p></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24.1px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></p><span class="s1" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">1. When you’re in the midst of losing a baby and are faced with unimaginable decisions, you may find that you just aren’t capable of making normal, everyday decisions. Just because one life stops doesn’t mean that the other responsibilities in your life stop, too. I currently just don’t have the ability to make simple decisions for my family as we’ve had to make some VERY weighty decisions that have no “good” or easy outcomes, and as my body has fought infection during the wait to be able to pass my baby, and now as I recover physically and emotionally from no longer carrying this baby inside of me, it’s just been really hard for me to even decide which clothes I need to wash for everyone for the week. (I’m being very vulnerable right now-maybe others don’t react this way, but my body kind of went into flight mode this past week.) The day before we found out our baby had died, we had planned to make a big Costco trip as we were in serious need of groceries. I began to feel especially nauseated that evening (I tend to get debilitating nausea in my pregnancies until I get close to the halfway point), so we decided I would rest that night and make the trip the next day instead. However, we weren’t anticipating an emergency trip to the doctor that day instead of a grocery run. After coming home with the unbearable task of sharing this devastating reality with our kids to try to help them begin the process of their own grief for their baby sister, I was mentally spent and almost frozen in how to return to normal life activities. The next day, I tried to sit and just make a simple meal plan and grocery list, and my mind my went completely blank. We survived on takeout those first few days until a precious coworker and friend set up a meal train for our family. Now, I know I have so many people who I could ask in a heartbeat in a situation like this if they would be willing to cook a meal for us, but I felt so guilty asking anyone to take on that burden when they have their own families to feed in the midst of very busy schedules. Having someone just set this up for us, and then seeing loved ones eagerly sign up night after night to make meals or provide resources for us to be able to easily feed our family each day has been an incredible act of kindness and outpouring of love for our family. Even as simple as dropping off disposable plates and utensils so we don’t have to worry about cleaning up after a meal—I had no idea the burden this would lift from me during this time. I cannot even begin to express how much it has meant to me to have the ability to feed my family well through all of this, and just to not have this one, extra thing to think about and plan for right now. I will never, ever forget this tremendous act of kindness and love. All that being said, never underestimate how simply dropping off a box of Kleenex and a package of cookies, or if you have the time to make a home cooked meal, or the resources to send money for doordash—how all of these things can provide a tangible experience of God’s care and provision to someone who is hurting and struggling.</span><div><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">2. Another way we have experienced God’s kindness is from friends who have literally shown up on my doorstep and scooped up my kids to take them to classes, rehearsals, or offer rides home, and even having them join their family on fun outings. I’m emotionally and physically unable to do these things with my kids right now. (This may sound extreme, but I was literally waiting for my body to suddenly go into labor that had a high risk of me also hemorrhaging before making it to the hospital. I was in physical pain from cramping and trying to fight off infection, and now experiencing the physical and emotional pain of recovering from surgery. My body and mind just haven’t been capable of a lot of things we normally do, so having people step in and step up has again been such a beautiful expression of God’s love and kindness through His people. My little ones may not be able to fully express to you right now how important this is for them, but I promise you this momma sees it, and I know they’ll look back on it one day with a true appreciation. I also see you being gracious with my older kids who haven’t figured out a way to properly articulate how they’re feeling, and you’ve offered them love and patience when maybe they seem to ignore your condolences. I see how it touches them even though they may not express it well. You are being salt and light to them, and it has been a blessing to my hurting heart and provided for a need I don’t really have the guts to always ask for—when you’re dealing with a heavy burden, the last thing you want to do is place even the smallest burden on someone else. </span></div><div><span class="s1" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium; text-align: justify;"><br /></span></div><div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><span class="s1" style="text-align: justify;">3. </span><span class="s1" style="text-align: justify;">I’ve also experienced God’s tangible love through precious coworker friends eagerly and willingly taking over my responsibilities at work so I can have the time I need to recover. They all have plenty on their plates, too, and it has been so selfless of them to allow me the time my body and spirit need. As I awoke from surgery today, one of the first things out of my mouth (I was highly “under the influence” and only know this because my husband shared it with me) to my husband was, “get me my binder—I need to finish recording parts for rehearsal and work on my lesson plans.” My husband quickly reminded me that all I needed to do in that moment was rest and remember that all of that was already well taken care of. When you’re grieving, your mind often freezes (as I’ve explained previously) but at some points it will awaken in a very frantic way. For me, this is out of guilt of placing a burden on someone else. I felt the need to get back to work as quickly as possible. But in reality, my body and my mind need time to recover, and my husband reminded me that I have MANY people who are happy to give me that time. (If you are up for a laugh, feel feee to ask my hubby all of the off the wall things that came to out of mouth while waking up from anesthesia and a cocktail of nausea medications.)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: justify;"><span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: inherit; font-size: large; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY1FNpQ2OaTAfhpYWGziXEFdQZjlIvTlVMFO6kwPdNOlPjXn4GM67XUu4XhNTImAxvDclP9Zkx57DWfEB53TLL0zgm9dAIERR-prmbxRFXbS-FfEOjGNqD-a2PgZdUUfwjZuiIjk5qpxfUbe6gwOgN2jeVd9JWtkiaS9NWwkO33aagrtCDeWCoiz4KWtg/s4032/IMG_9662.heic" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY1FNpQ2OaTAfhpYWGziXEFdQZjlIvTlVMFO6kwPdNOlPjXn4GM67XUu4XhNTImAxvDclP9Zkx57DWfEB53TLL0zgm9dAIERR-prmbxRFXbS-FfEOjGNqD-a2PgZdUUfwjZuiIjk5qpxfUbe6gwOgN2jeVd9JWtkiaS9NWwkO33aagrtCDeWCoiz4KWtg/s320/IMG_9662.heic" width="240" /></a></div></span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">4. Yet another tangible way people have shown me God’s love is through literal tangible things I can look at to add beauty to a time filled with ashes. I have been surprised with flowers delivered to my door and handmade gifts with very special meanings that I can look at and find comfort in as I remember my baby girl. These items truly have lifted my spirits because it’s just not the gift that is meaningful— it’s also the time and thought the person placed into it desiring to let me know they see my pain. At the hospital, the chaplain came to see us and pray with us, and with him he brought some information for dealing with grief as a mother, a father, and even for our parents. He also included a sweet teddy bear. My precious Evangeline fell in love with this “baby Sparrow” bear. After being told her baby sister’s body was still in my belly, but her heart had stopped beating so her soul was now in heaven, she has struggled fighting off tears (she’s very adamant she doesn’t want to cry) but she has very much been impacted by this loss. </span></span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><span style="text-align: justify;"><span>Each d</span></span><span style="text-align: justify;">ay since, she has come up to my belly to hug and kiss the baby. It’s something she looked forward to daily in my pregnancy, so I think it was very hard for her to let go of the way she had tangibly been showing love to a baby sister she so despe</span></span><span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">rately wanted to be the “best big sister” to. </span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: inherit; font-size: x-large; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDEM5DIwDLa2vGUZ9zaRqiweC5C8BRf9gXZUt0-tG_xhlf_mYtKaz0Y_3L9S4Wu4vfn1KMPrzyVwzQZVddybUUClhpX7-cgNGXws_KgdpaKWZKxHBQyRE1gqtBEHclFy6xI1ayPlL7dIvbzZUWt-9NIZqHlgApEujmMxG_zatFMDS_RikNUgutMKC3dYA/s3088/IMG_9663.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2316" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDEM5DIwDLa2vGUZ9zaRqiweC5C8BRf9gXZUt0-tG_xhlf_mYtKaz0Y_3L9S4Wu4vfn1KMPrzyVwzQZVddybUUClhpX7-cgNGXws_KgdpaKWZKxHBQyRE1gqtBEHclFy6xI1ayPlL7dIvbzZUWt-9NIZqHlgApEujmMxG_zatFMDS_RikNUgutMKC3dYA/s320/IMG_9663.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The night before the surgery, I had to make sure she understood that after that day, the baby’s body would no longer be in my belly. Without saying a word, she went up to my belly and gave her sister one last kiss and hug. So today, when I came home with something tangible representing her baby sister, I truly think it meant the world to her. We currently have “Barrow” (as in sparrow’s bear) sitting on a cabinet, and she will randomly go pick it up and give it a quick hug before returning it to its current place. I never would have thought that could help her in her own grieving process, so I’m so thankful for whoever had the idea to gift grieving families with something like this. All that being said, both people we know well and people we have never met have used their resources, talents, and insight to show us comfort and love in a very real way. </span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: inherit; font-size: x-large; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh6-6x7EZ3V8QrgdO9i-QUplGSWeNKpUq5uRV1GaeGkjmvsGog1k9QmLhYbPpMD34wu4SD5-o9LYe1ETXg389W1h-lrGO_bznxnerf2bcjUTi2WdybaI_StMI2PLSdHqUKp3ZNFKEGHhatgMas3d9Q0oAKPG1MQiymza2Ne1EIkjhbQoqMK3d4NsL3rJ8/s2043/AD817899-7685-4A0F-8FDB-460572F98163.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2043" data-original-width="2043" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh6-6x7EZ3V8QrgdO9i-QUplGSWeNKpUq5uRV1GaeGkjmvsGog1k9QmLhYbPpMD34wu4SD5-o9LYe1ETXg389W1h-lrGO_bznxnerf2bcjUTi2WdybaI_StMI2PLSdHqUKp3ZNFKEGHhatgMas3d9Q0oAKPG1MQiymza2Ne1EIkjhbQoqMK3d4NsL3rJ8/s320/AD817899-7685-4A0F-8FDB-460572F98163.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><span class="s1">5. Perhaps one of the simplest, yet often hardest, of ways you can show God’s tangible love to someone walking through loss is through a simple text message, voicemail, card in the mail, or quick in person hug if you run into them. I know it can feel awkward to reach out when there are no perfect words to be said, but your time and effort to offer compassion is a refreshment to a weary heart. Honestly, for me, having the answers for how to walk through this grief isn’t what I need—I just need to know you’re </span><span class="s3" style="font-style: italic;">willing</span><span class="s1"> to walk through it with me. Believe me, I know it can be awkward to reach out when there seem to be no words. I have found myself in this place before and chose not to speak out of fear of saying the “wrong” thing. But, just knowing that you’re </span><span class="s3" style="font-style: italic;">willing</span><span class="s1"> to walk beside me and sit in the ashes with me is an incredible gift to a grieving soul. A text as simple as, “I heard this sermon or song today and it ministered to me and brought you to my mind. If you’re feeling up to listening, I pray it comforts you in some way.” Or, “I have no words for what you’re experiencing, but I want you to know I’m here for you and I love you. How can I pray for you specifically today?” Or maybe some of you are able to share from personal experience and then extend the offer of a compassionate ear. Our lives are each unique and we can’t ever truly understand exactly what someone is going through, but there is SUCH comfort in sharing your willingness to walk alongside someone in their personal grief and loss. Thank you for braving that awkwardness and just letting me know you love me, again and again. Your messages bring such comfort to me even if I’m not able to respond right away. (Many of these messages have shown up right in the midst of an emotional breakdown, after a difficult phone call from my surgeon, or just in a moment when I’m feeling very lonely. Many times when I find the tears flowing, I will go back and read over these messages or listen to the songs you have shared because they help point me back to the Lord as I’m grieving. Never underestimate the power of telling someone you love them and care for them. In doing so, you are helping a hurting heart see Jesus more clearly in the midst of a very confusing time. </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">6. Please don’t take this next one the wrong way—what I’m not suggesting here is that you need to send someone money when they’re experiencing loss like this, but I can’t fail to mention how God has shown us His provision during this difficult time. God has given us people who have helped offset a very unexpected financial burden. The truth is that losing a baby at this stage often costs much more than actually getting to deliver your baby at full term and bringing them home. We didn’t know how we would cover the first bill that came in just TWO days before it had to be paid, but God has been providing for that need, and it’s been a humbling reminder that God ALWAYS provides for our needs. It shouldn’t ever take me by surprise, but I’m ever blown away at His timing and provision through His people.<br /></span><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24.1px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtbpgnnP2luo70qcvPqYflX3dvGlWHKfVHBpYLzUOffCfj2KFiT1M2eRSY6c8gKXMPh8dbl6RlPtDyDmhDtblTeiyupa1aHtfPrGV8_MTEum7JuyajWQBV33mUudBnhkcHtwlfBoS9XXTaoB40WOhrKg51eoO6iEFGSHsWciW8hqgfD4nXl1zNOQJ84U4/s432/IMG_9702.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="432" data-original-width="288" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtbpgnnP2luo70qcvPqYflX3dvGlWHKfVHBpYLzUOffCfj2KFiT1M2eRSY6c8gKXMPh8dbl6RlPtDyDmhDtblTeiyupa1aHtfPrGV8_MTEum7JuyajWQBV33mUudBnhkcHtwlfBoS9XXTaoB40WOhrKg51eoO6iEFGSHsWciW8hqgfD4nXl1zNOQJ84U4/s320/IMG_9702.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><p></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">I could go on and on about how so many of you, both near and far, have ministered to our hearts, minds, bodies, and souls as we walk this difficult road. The body of Christ is truly so beautiful, and we all have the ability to play different parts in it. Every single act of kindness you have shown has meant more than I’ll ever be able to adequately express. You truly have shown so very many tangible acts of God’s incredible character—His presence, faithfulness, love, mercy, faithfulness, goodness, etc. etc. etc.! I hope I haven’t overlooked thanking any of you personally, but if I have, know it’s not at all intentionally; I’m just not thinking clearly these days. Please know your selfless acts of God’s love mean the world to me right now and are helping hold us up during all of this. <br /></span></p></div>Paula-Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760205491923422878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8482996357959707989.post-67863414462035787342023-09-24T00:52:00.001-07:002023-09-24T00:52:11.124-07:00Losers...<p><i>I’m not really sure why I never published this blog. This was written shortly after our first miscarriage j April of last year. I’m going to post it now as these thoughts were certainly apart of that story, and I want to keep that story intact.</i></p><p>I was reflecting on some things lately regarding our miscarriage. Who am I kidding--it's a main topic of conversation for me right now. In doing so, the words, "when we lost our baby..." had come out of my mouth, and as soon as they did, they left a really bad taste.</p><p><span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: medium;"><i><b>"Lost our baby..."</b></i></span></p><p>When I found out we were expecting "Baby Kiki," I was immediately kind of freaked out, but that didn't last for too long because I got SO excited! My momma mind was already thinking of the sweet days ahead of getting to rock and feed our precious little one, getting to see my children interact with their baby sibling, imagining what he or she would look like and what their personality would be like, wondering what Sunday mornings would look like with getting everyone ready for church, pondering what the next school year would feel like with so many different things going on for each of my babies. I wouldn't say I had specific plans, but I certainly had specific dreams of what life might entail. And within a moment, that was crushed. So, yes, I suppose I do feel a bit lost as a Momma, trying to redirect the course of our family, yet feeling like something is missing that I can't do anything about. And when you say, "I lost my baby," there is so much condemnation that statement can bring about. It's like saying this came about because of something I did or didn't do. It feels like it's my fault. My job as a mother is to protect my baby, but I lost them instead. These are all thoughts that can swarm around in the forefront of my mind if I choose to entertain them. </p><p>Instead, I just have to keep going back to the Sovereignty of my God. He gave us 3 months to love this baby and to look to Him through that process. And He's now given us the opportunity to trust in His perfect plan even when it makes zero sense to our family. Just like our baby is very much not lost, our pain is also not lost on Him. So I choose to praise the only One Who is able to make beauty from these ashes, and even if I don't get to see that beauty this side of Heaven, I will still choose to trust in Him for the simple fact that He IS worthy, and it depends nothing upon my response to Who He is.</p><p>So, in these times of feeling very lost, I'm trusting that I am overwhelmingly found in my Saviour's grasp. He hasn't bene caught off guard, and He isn't frantic trying to figure out what's next. He's in control, and I am not.</p>Paula-Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760205491923422878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8482996357959707989.post-57265647806171228532022-05-17T06:56:00.000-07:002022-05-17T06:56:38.018-07:00Everything’s (not always) Coming Up Roses…<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggjPqEcwQCR0m7m00i5KRg-kyt4ghEJJv2BRhMIw9vZw0Zd-hnJFEu3a3c6YDZvRQQmwDeDTHrky19jATGNArhLEedflh5ShYRcTVUynqe3VA3X8_Ne5QBXk3AYNuax3eZegDjC4nOBc46pBu2OmOUi8C2sa9AbnMOAlapXcYVN3DwOlrfs5Yw-fP9/s1800/A6CBD678-5522-43C2-9883-D6C9EBCEB245.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggjPqEcwQCR0m7m00i5KRg-kyt4ghEJJv2BRhMIw9vZw0Zd-hnJFEu3a3c6YDZvRQQmwDeDTHrky19jATGNArhLEedflh5ShYRcTVUynqe3VA3X8_Ne5QBXk3AYNuax3eZegDjC4nOBc46pBu2OmOUi8C2sa9AbnMOAlapXcYVN3DwOlrfs5Yw-fP9/s320/A6CBD678-5522-43C2-9883-D6C9EBCEB245.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /> </span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-align: left;">It’s a month until I turn “29” again. I remember my first 29th birthday. Heading into that birthday, I dealt with a lot of sadness because so much of what I thought life would look like hadn’t come to fruition. Hindsight is often so beautiful, though. I can look back on these last ten years and see that my Jesus has moved so many mountains in my life. The story that has played out in these last ten years is so much greater than anything I could have ever hoped for. Has it all been rosey? Certainly not! We have experienced some of the deepest hurt and grief in these last ten years, but I can see God’s hand on every page of our story.</span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-align: left;"> </span></div><p></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">As I get ready for this next birthday, I am filled with some of those same feelings from ten years ago. I was so excited about celebrating this upcoming birthday knowing<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>that new life was coming later this year. It honestly makes me dread going into this next month with things so much different than what I had anticipated…this isn’t one of those rosey stages. But something happened this week that reminded me that even the most beautiful things have unlovely moments…</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7pfc0SftOHL3_5pYllVD_dgjktVSPF9QHjz8ZzFhmCiT4GXBxy9I2mcJWTrpVqnsVyEH5WFjRseoJYlsRl8HajJcA9D4cYUkJbGi1ncQhIF8oItNXfi9KHqgD7lBGLIl8PPL4llgn-b-aa4mjzLTuaByxx5c8e20nQGUQXa0F24AMJSFMV8vPlxlL/s4032/43DF76BF-BC55-4F69-B1F7-04891CB58479.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7pfc0SftOHL3_5pYllVD_dgjktVSPF9QHjz8ZzFhmCiT4GXBxy9I2mcJWTrpVqnsVyEH5WFjRseoJYlsRl8HajJcA9D4cYUkJbGi1ncQhIF8oItNXfi9KHqgD7lBGLIl8PPL4llgn-b-aa4mjzLTuaByxx5c8e20nQGUQXa0F24AMJSFMV8vPlxlL/s320/43DF76BF-BC55-4F69-B1F7-04891CB58479.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Some friends recently gifted me some beautiful flowers, and my mom and DH planted them and others for me after I had my D&C. It’s been very therapeutic for me to water them each day and to see them bloom. Gabriel had even been asking to plant some things, so we he’s excitedly seeing the progress of his sunflowers each day.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1-Sxoma4748vQtGLCWAlffHd4NPT2xwNaxRfz4_9HiiPC1TFdAYH1h_nk5aYPu_Vr73uKEFl8DGcifvhucm5x9OGBLbWOYytoKmUpCujZoipZfsN4DONMQkoPsx9V2BzZlcMPWnJ7CP4zuU89aT-H0wZ48J-frFH33TGzaoIYw86h53elttpP88fX/s4032/DABCF2A3-83EC-4B40-9BA9-2F21210C6312.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1-Sxoma4748vQtGLCWAlffHd4NPT2xwNaxRfz4_9HiiPC1TFdAYH1h_nk5aYPu_Vr73uKEFl8DGcifvhucm5x9OGBLbWOYytoKmUpCujZoipZfsN4DONMQkoPsx9V2BzZlcMPWnJ7CP4zuU89aT-H0wZ48J-frFH33TGzaoIYw86h53elttpP88fX/s320/DABCF2A3-83EC-4B40-9BA9-2F21210C6312.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjziCHmLASBq5Nq8JVMgXrwZyZALy_v8ei0sNaxeJophN82XXrJ8qPdS5gzACZaSzPSiIOeATkbn3xLLRnoDXhbtF0_BULnHMGhRw7_wUmh3xtryhvIJpudkzZgEQRhSt8hMuqBlgC7pmePS0R6nz9sBy8JAp_OVjf_tQ7If6gVa4Iiawvqc7F4ZRbO/s4032/320C1637-A37E-4C65-89CC-9F11532D29ED.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjziCHmLASBq5Nq8JVMgXrwZyZALy_v8ei0sNaxeJophN82XXrJ8qPdS5gzACZaSzPSiIOeATkbn3xLLRnoDXhbtF0_BULnHMGhRw7_wUmh3xtryhvIJpudkzZgEQRhSt8hMuqBlgC7pmePS0R6nz9sBy8JAp_OVjf_tQ7If6gVa4Iiawvqc7F4ZRbO/s320/320C1637-A37E-4C65-89CC-9F11532D29ED.jpeg" width="240" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBbEsyehX05HhFPbtmMBuXL_GH5iXU7ZEYr5HKSGqq-Ufv57pCBliPWydc_un4MRvlk_XMEGazI-MfJ7EUUg3yOXE78zWGrXqFpx6_8iCsQaXpBMnKx9VEbumGu_WS3rmKoAEImjhV5cOrp_aRGG0SSkSsuEribTwZTGRGXthn2zeYsEUgyg4FPUUV/s4032/33564F3F-5DB7-43DF-8832-5C233B84B2CB.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBbEsyehX05HhFPbtmMBuXL_GH5iXU7ZEYr5HKSGqq-Ufv57pCBliPWydc_un4MRvlk_XMEGazI-MfJ7EUUg3yOXE78zWGrXqFpx6_8iCsQaXpBMnKx9VEbumGu_WS3rmKoAEImjhV5cOrp_aRGG0SSkSsuEribTwZTGRGXthn2zeYsEUgyg4FPUUV/s320/33564F3F-5DB7-43DF-8832-5C233B84B2CB.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div></div><br /> I love seeing all of the vibrant colors peeking through my flower bed now. I have a miniature rose bush that has such a gorgeous deep pink hue, <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJC7ZBrejQdBCdC6KXjmr20gD_Cttt1G6Avud6J312zRgl6yRDYe7h12d4PU3pihPlvxMU765P_-8Jy4izSN_PiSvahqWQ2ZUSVMMNSCFg8hn2jwoOuRxDFnVYW8aZLI3ei4tAdeZE2WVuzNAM2d1Sl9XWDfxGcjoZMY1kOvV2uztKgTMJN-JChT-V/s1800/D28118C2-4716-492B-8315-CE5A7D214DB8.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1440" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJC7ZBrejQdBCdC6KXjmr20gD_Cttt1G6Avud6J312zRgl6yRDYe7h12d4PU3pihPlvxMU765P_-8Jy4izSN_PiSvahqWQ2ZUSVMMNSCFg8hn2jwoOuRxDFnVYW8aZLI3ei4tAdeZE2WVuzNAM2d1Sl9XWDfxGcjoZMY1kOvV2uztKgTMJN-JChT-V/s320/D28118C2-4716-492B-8315-CE5A7D214DB8.jpeg" width="256" /></a></div><br />but in the last few weeks, the blooms started shriveling up and lost their vibrant color. I’ll admit that it stung a bit to see them die off. I’m not the best with flowers, so I worried maybe I had killed my plant. I eventually pulled off the dried up petals some time last week, and a few days later, when I went out to water my flowers, I saw that one, tiny bud had begun to bloom again. New life was growing right before my eyes, and I was reminded that more is to come…if I can be patient and continue tending to it each day. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRaV81PJ8-iPqX784_2l7n2xhRDW-HC40kG8J6dhhksvko9vvXyulqUM5iU0I9KUKGakvLFbGmLcSSWZG5xGAJfPwsW9pV-0YV6gFCvF76zuOEYoSlZnrZk1c6sjUlCEcrQHu8roJp1xfdzAwONEzhNTbF33vNP0JrXqJe9NMChovuOGvlrAlX-kdD/s4032/D3B0A9DF-9C7A-47D3-8614-EE5398E69FE6.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRaV81PJ8-iPqX784_2l7n2xhRDW-HC40kG8J6dhhksvko9vvXyulqUM5iU0I9KUKGakvLFbGmLcSSWZG5xGAJfPwsW9pV-0YV6gFCvF76zuOEYoSlZnrZk1c6sjUlCEcrQHu8roJp1xfdzAwONEzhNTbF33vNP0JrXqJe9NMChovuOGvlrAlX-kdD/s320/D3B0A9DF-9C7A-47D3-8614-EE5398E69FE6.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><p></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">I’m reminded that God is at work, my friends. Even in the moments when it seems like all of the good has shriveled up and the beauty has died, He is still tending to it, and He is able to make something beautiful from it. I see how He has done it in my life before, time and again. So many times I have felt forgotten or unseen, but my God is EVER at work. I so desperately desire a different outcome many times, but I will choose to trust Him <i><b>even when</b></i> my heart is broken. This isn’t one of those “rosey” moments in my life, but I can feel my Jesus raining down on my broken heart. He’s the Master Gardener, and this is one of those necessary seasons of pruning. The honest truth is that I feel so broken right now. My heart aches. But I’m choosing to trust in the process because He isn’t done yet. And <i>even if</i> I never get to see the blooms that come from all of this, I will still choose to trust Him, because I know He IS able, He IS good, and He IS worthy! </span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Paula-Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760205491923422878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8482996357959707989.post-52856410260398345142022-05-08T20:46:00.001-07:002022-05-17T06:57:39.235-07:00Yes to the Yes’s and to the No’s…<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbpbqz-Vf5moZe-N7v8tqp47sDEN14Y_bDpuDuOlHpvO7pqMHeeX-eCFMKxXjaDltn8dXlxhPlZU_Z1pRs2hdQy1yT0kDEqlkFz3RnAJh98SkrMS2Wzd_hXuulAK9tHGz8eeAX1rt0EKgPHwGI8448JPECUeVifJrReHgflyAgzLpPCXJIgFpNumX9/s1600/1F68E117-7128-4CC8-B76B-0489850FF2F9.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1440" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbpbqz-Vf5moZe-N7v8tqp47sDEN14Y_bDpuDuOlHpvO7pqMHeeX-eCFMKxXjaDltn8dXlxhPlZU_Z1pRs2hdQy1yT0kDEqlkFz3RnAJh98SkrMS2Wzd_hXuulAK9tHGz8eeAX1rt0EKgPHwGI8448JPECUeVifJrReHgflyAgzLpPCXJIgFpNumX9/s320/1F68E117-7128-4CC8-B76B-0489850FF2F9.jpeg" width="288" /></a></div><br /> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">I remember Mother’s Day of 2007. We had just found out we were expecting Lucy, and we were beyond excited. We went out to eat after church and ran into the surgeon who had done dh’s surgery on New Year’s Eve and just a week later broke the news that DH had cancer. I remember the dr being hesitantly happy for us since it was very early on in my pregnancy. We pretty much shouted our pregnancy out to the world, though. We had prayed so long for a baby, and we were so thankful that God</span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;"> </span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">answered “yes” to that request.</span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;"> </span><p></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">That summer, my daddy passed away. We found out during rehearsal at church early on a Sunday morning. It was the most intense grief I had ever felt before, and I had so many questions for the Lord. I didn’t know if my Daddy knew Jesus or not. I had prayed for him daily for so long, and I had conversations with him about the Lord, but I never saw the change in him that I prayed for. I’ll never forget my home church pastor talking to me the days leading up to his funeral. “Paula-Beth, God has heard your prayers all this time. He said yes to you when your husband was diagnosed with cancer and you asked for him to be okay, and you praised Him for that. He said yes to you when you prayed and asked Him for a child, and you praised Him for His answer. But this time, God said no. Will you still praise Him even when His answer isn’t what you want it to be?” His words have stuck with me through every joy and every trial I have faced since then. </span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">This past year has been full of a lot of life changes. God has said yes so many times to us. We have been called to an amazing church where we’ve made sweet friendships and we get to serve together. I am beyond thankful for the group of ladies I work with at Mother’s Day Out and the precious children I get to love on. Our kids are thriving in school and in life in general. Our two oldest have surrendered their hearts to Jesus. We love our neighborhood and have an incredible home…I could go on and on. But the Lord has also said no to us. In the past year, we’ve lost my grandmother, my brother, and our baby. I have again pounded my fists into the floor and cried out to my Jesus asking why, and begging Him for a different answer. But in those moments, I’ve been reminded of dear Pastor John’s words: I praised Him for the yes’s, but will I still praise Him for the no’s?</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">My God is so good. He’s so good that His goodness doesn’t depend on a single one of my circumstances. And He’s so good that He can even accept my broken and grief-stricken praise. I can’t understand His ways—they are so much higher than my own. But I can trust Him. </span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">Mothers Day 2022 looks a lot different than it did 15 years ago. I have so many reasons to celebrate, but I also have reasons to grieve. And in the midst of all of the sweet snuggles and the deep grief there is the steadiness of my Heavenly Father. His goodness is constant, His mercy is ever new, and His ways are PERFECT. I can’t understand them, but I can still praise Him. </span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">So today I celebrate that the Lord has given and that He has taken away. My flesh fights the why’s and the what if’s, but my heart holds fast to Him. </span></p>Paula-Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760205491923422878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8482996357959707989.post-74631438466192695562022-04-28T08:21:00.008-07:002022-05-18T01:20:35.922-07:00Baby KiKi...<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9sKuTOLhyMiLIfF1JwVXiIqF_7gmoZ39zWNS5LR49uK_Q_UbyuHLvZpcRY6sTdUiCAtTqGU_-by-T4OSG2sLLfKjLST3b7m2ENaxDWyL5n-6QebJYhVwYIrkzGq1KtXNMevDfgKtM5bF4lbBMfkqHnbvy5FfWCcehtzjrivN6FGiaJQ4dJE7MEuqK/s640/IMG_0847-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9sKuTOLhyMiLIfF1JwVXiIqF_7gmoZ39zWNS5LR49uK_Q_UbyuHLvZpcRY6sTdUiCAtTqGU_-by-T4OSG2sLLfKjLST3b7m2ENaxDWyL5n-6QebJYhVwYIrkzGq1KtXNMevDfgKtM5bF4lbBMfkqHnbvy5FfWCcehtzjrivN6FGiaJQ4dJE7MEuqK/w237-h237/IMG_0847-3.jpg" width="237" /></a></div><br />You were a bit of a mic drop moment for us;-) I carried you for 12 weeks and 2 days, and it was one of the best surprises of my life.<p></p><p>When I found out about you, I finally understood the story in the Bible where Sarah laughs at God saying He’s going to give her and Abraham a child in their old age. I'm not quite as old as Sarah was, mind you, but by the time you've hit your SEVERALth 29'th birthday, you're considered of "advanced maternal age," and on Thursday, February 24th, I found out that I was going to be referred to as a "geriatric pregnant patient." We were PREGNANT! I think the color drained from DH's face when I first told him. We couldn't believe that all of those years of joking that our first and last child would be 14-15 years a part would come to fruition. (It's a common occurrence amongst several members on my husband's side.) It took the shock a few days to wear off, but then I became extremely excited. We would get to have another baby! And our kids, holy cow were they over the moon with love and anticipation for meeting their new baby brother or sister. Lucy cried happy tears, Gabriel ran around the room shouting out different sayings and questions in a total happy tizzy, Annie claimed she would not be changing any diapers ;-), and Evangeline wasn't quite sure what it all meant. It didn't take too long for them to all get aboard the Baby Express, though. They would often come up to me and lovingly pat or rub my tummy, giving kisses and talking to "Baby KiKi" which Evangeline had affectionally named her sibling. Every day, they would come up and ask me, "What size is the baby today??"</p><p>The extreme nausea started in at 6 weeks and never eased up. I took it as a good sign that baby was growing and developing as needed...and I also took a LOT of naps! Every appointment had gone great. At my first appointment, they did an ultrasound where we got to see and hear baby's heartbeat, flickering away. At my second appointment, we got to hear that joyous sound once again on a doppler. That was last Wednesday. I opted out of the traditional genetic testing (it seemed irresponsible to spend $400 on something that would only give me a list of statistics…now I wish I had done it so we could have known baby’s gender…) and decided to go with the nuchal translucency scan instead. I was excited to go for that scan on Monday and get to see how much baby had grown and watch them wiggle around. I was also a bit anxious as I knew the likelihood of them finding something wrong was much higher given my age. Regardless, we were all absolutely in love with this precious little one.</p><p>The scan was very awkward. The tech hardly spoke to us at all, asked if I'd had any bleeding during my pregnancy (I hadn't) and ended the ultrasound pretty abruptly after just about 5-10 minutes. (It's supposed to be a 30 minute to hour long scan.) She said she needed to talk to the radiologist to make sure she got the images she needed, and then she'd come back and do a transvaginal ultrasound. For this one, she didn't speak at all and had the screen turned away from me. I could see the worried look on DH's face as he tried to figure out what was on the screen. Once again, it was a very short scan, and she told me I could get dressed. In my heart, something didn't feel right. I was disappointed I didn't get to 'see" my baby, and I was worried that something was possibly wrong. I kept trying to reassure myself by knowing that I'd never done that type of scan, so it could be my confusion was from not being familiar with the procedure. </p><p>She had us wait in a room where Michael and I stared worryingly at one another. He told me, "Paula-Beth, I don't think I saw the heartbeat, and I always can spot it on a sonogram. I don't think the baby was moving." When the tech came back for us, she just said we were free to go. I asked her where I needed to go for my bloodwork. She said I didn’t need to do it today and would hear back from my doctor about the results because they would be calling me "VERY soon." I could immediately feel a lump grow in my throat as I tried to choke back tears. "Something's wrong, isn't it? We can tell by your face that something is wrong..." DH said. She replied, "I'm sorry, I'm not allowed to say anything, but your doctor will be calling you VERY soon."</p><p>Michael had to push me past the reception desk because I was determined to get my bloodwork. When we left the office, the tears immediately began to flow. I felt like I couldn't breath, and right then, I knew in my heart that something was wrong with my baby and they weren't going to make it.</p><p>My doctor called within minutes and set up an appointment with me for that afternoon to discuss the "abnormal" results of the scan. I think I cried the whole time in the car, but in my head I kept repeating to myself, "God is sovereign. He's in control, and even if the worst happens, He is still good."</p><p>When we met with my doctor, he shared with us the news we feared. The baby's heart was no longer beating. I was 12 weeks 2 days, and that's what baby was measuring, so it literally had just happened. He was so compassionate and kind, spoke some important truths over us, and allowed us to mourn the news. He let me know they also found a <span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(77, 81, 86); color: #4d5156; white-space: break-spaces;">subchorionic hematoma, </span>and we already knew my thyroid had gone completely wacky, but he assured me he didn’t feel any of these were the cause of this loss. He then said he needed to shift his attention to my care and future reproductivity, and he explained the options I had for remo</span>ving the pregnancy. Since the baby was completely formed at this point, delivering at home sounded extremely traumatic to me. I could not wrap my head around delivering my dead baby into my hands over a toilet. The doctor agreed that at this stage of pregnancy, a surgical D&C was my best option. They called the following morning (Tuesday) to let me know the surgery was scheduled for Wednesday morning. I would go in for pre-op the day before.</p><p>But before we could totally wrap our heads around the surgery, we had something else that had to be done: figuring out how to break the news to our children that we would not get to hold and love this baby and see them grow. This may have been one of the hardest things I've ever had to do, but God clearly gave me the words He wanted me to say to them. What was even harder about the situation was they knew I had gone for a sonogram, and they had so been hoping they'd be able to tell us the baby's gender. As we gathered them up together, they were all asking questions like, "Is it a boy or a girl? Did they find twins??" I choked back the tears and calmly told them no, we weren't having twins, and I didn't find out the gender." But as soon as everyone sat down and I began to speak, my voice started cracking and the tears began flowing hard.</p><p>"I want each of you to know how much Mommy and Daddy love you, and how thankful we are that we get to be your parents and watch you grow. I also want you to know that God is ALWAYS good. He is sovereign and He is in control. Even when bad things happen that we don't understand, we can trust in His goodness...today, at the sonogram, we found out that the baby's heart isn't beating anymore, so we aren't going to get to bring this baby home to us. But we have great hope in Jesus, because we know your brother or sister is with the Lord now, and one day, if we each have a relationship with Him, we will get to spend eternity with them praising and worshipping God."</p><p>Evangeline had so many questions as she tried to wrap her brain around what we were saying. "How can the baby be in heaven when it's still in your belly, Mommy?" I responded, "Well, when we get to heaven, we get a new body. The baby's soul is in heaven, but Mommy will have to have surgery to get the baby's body out of my belly so that I don't get sick. It's not safe to leave the body in there." Lucy then asked, "Why would God give us this baby that we were so excited about and then take it away?" At this point, all of our kids were wailing, and this went on for a VERY long time. We held each other and weeped with one another. And DH told Lucy as he reminded all of us of the story of Job who lost EVERYTHING, yet he was able to proclaim these words: "The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away. BLESSED be the name of the Lord!"</p><p>The past few days have been a struggle. Before the surgery, every time I dozed off I would wake up with the sudden realization that my baby was no longer growing inside of me, and yet I still felt every bit of exhaustion and nausea that I'd been having all along. My body still felt pregnant, my tummy was still hard, and my heart so badly wanted to still be pregnant. The day before the surgery was also Annie's birthday though, and while it wasn't the typical celebration we try to have, we were determined to make sure she felt special. She started the day off with her telling her Daddy, "You know, it IS my birthday, but I also feel kind of sad..." And she has continually told me, "Mommy, I hope we can have another baby...I really wanted to see the baby. Can you show it to me?" We ate lunch with her at school and brought donuts for her classmates. And some PRECIOUS friends came over to the house and decked it out with huge balloons, a delicious cake, and gifts. People stepped in so quickly and with a true desire to help us. It blessed my heart more than I can fully express. </p><p>That was Tuesday, and then yesterday (Wednesday) was my surgery. It wasn't a super smooth day--they blew out my vein trying to get the IV in which took at least 5 tries. The 10-20 minute procedure I was supposed to have turned into at least an hour and half. Apparently, I lost about 650 ml of blood. Those numbers don't mean much to me, but I was told that's not desirable lol. Thankfully, I didn't end up needing a transfusion, but I'm a bit anemic now. Because I was in the OR for so long, they had to add another IV and intubate me.</p><p>Here's a little intermission with a funny story from my enroute to the OR--you never know what you're going to say when they pump you full of drugs at the hospital. As they wheeled me off in the opposite direction of my husband, apparently I yelled out, "EAT A CARROT!!" Dh said he cackled at that. (This is our family's special--and silly!--way we say "I love you" to one another.) I am sure the nurses thought I’d lost it. </p><p>I woke up from surgery feeling an emptiness I haven't ever felt before. My baby was no longer inside of me. My stomach felt empty, and there is a hole in my heart unlike anything I can explain. No, I didn't get to know this baby--I didn't know if they were a boy or girl, what color hair they would have and whose features they would end up with. I never got to hear them cry or snuggle them up close to me and breathe in that magical baby smell at the crown of their head. But I got to carry them and love them for 12 weeks.</p><p>Physically, my pain isn't too bad right now. I'm hurting, and it's a weird physical pain, but its managable, and the bleeding hasn't been bad yet either. But, oh my heart. It aches in a way I know many of you know all too well. And yet, each time the tears begin to flow, the Lord whispers to me a Truth that covers me in a peace that only He can give: </p><p>As I grieve over not holding my baby in my arms, I remember that my baby is with Jesus, and that I have the assurance that I will get to meet them one day in Heaven. Not only that, but as Daddy-God holds my baby, He is also holding me through this at the same time. </p><p>As I find myself having to answer the tough questions from my children, I realize how much love my kids truly have for one another. They were SO excited for this baby and already loved them so very much. It's a blessing to get to experience that kind of love, and it gives us opportunities to have eternal conversations with our kids. </p><p>As I question why God allowed this to happen, I realize I'm still thankful for it, despite the outcome not being what I wanted. I got to experience growing this precious life inside of me, and I experienced so many joys and hopes and so much love and excitement as a result. I wouldn't trade for those 12 weeks of getting to carry my baby.</p><p>And as our family continues to find our way through the valley, friends and family have swarmed in to lighten the load. The encouraging notes, the sweet gifts and meals, and most of all the PRAYERS...The family of God is such a precious and beautiful thing. God knows exactly what His children need, and He never fails to provide it for us.</p><p>I'm choosing to trust His perfect plan, and I'm choosing to stand on the Truth that He is ALWAYS good, and when I don't have the strength to stand anymore, I find myself surrounded by dear brothers and sisters who will hold me up. In Exodus 17, we read about how the Israelites were being attacked by the Amalekites. As long as Moses held his arms and staff up, they would succeed in the battle, but whenever he tired and put his hands down, they would fall behind. So they put a rock underneath him so he could sit, and Aaron and Hur held up his arms for him, and the Israelites were victorious. Isn't this a beautiful picture of what brothers and sisters in Christ do for each of us? Countless times this week, I've found a rock placed for me to sit on, and I've felt the power of friends lifting my weary heart back up. I will NOT let this experience defeat me or take away the joy I have in Christ. Rather, my desire is to allow it to mold me into who He has for me to be. I know I will always grieve over losing this baby, but I also know that I don't have to grieve as the world does. I have hope, and I'm choosing to stand firm on It.</p>Paula-Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760205491923422878noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8482996357959707989.post-38706742428218557902019-09-11T21:52:00.000-07:002019-09-11T21:52:31.557-07:0019 years...<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-705hxP6ECqQ/XXnDloQLntI/AAAAAAAADSE/j_G3UCMV5kQTSFB8ORlEO1TwMsVT0NESgCEwYBhgL/s1600/AFAC0462-23DC-43C1-AF32-FE34F0CC92F4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1079" data-original-width="1440" height="239" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-705hxP6ECqQ/XXnDloQLntI/AAAAAAAADSE/j_G3UCMV5kQTSFB8ORlEO1TwMsVT0NESgCEwYBhgL/s320/AFAC0462-23DC-43C1-AF32-FE34F0CC92F4.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-kerning: none;">19 years ago seemed like a typical day to me at the time--go to class, practice, attend an event, study for a test with a friend, etc. It was a full day, but I had no idea that God had so much more in store for me than what I had written in my planner. ...But do we ever really? We see typical moments and don’t think much of them, or, on the flip side of that, we see devastating circumstances and can’t see past them. We too often forget that God is always at work. He’s working in the little moments and the big; in the joyful moments and the most heartbreaking ones. 19 years ago was just a normal day for me, but God was at work in a big way. There was a silly freshman girl who was about to meet a confident senior guy ;-) and both thought afterward that they'd never have another conversation with one other. But God had different plans… </span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ouhxbMLsKck/XXnDqWmbRUI/AAAAAAAADR8/qD_jw3bz0_UIqABbOSmhudt3-NSjEftQgCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_6278.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ouhxbMLsKck/XXnDqWmbRUI/AAAAAAAADR8/qD_jw3bz0_UIqABbOSmhudt3-NSjEftQgCEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_6278.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-kerning: none;">This summer, our family took an incredible vacation to Colorado. Among the many things we saw were some gorgeous waterfalls. I was captivated by the power, beauty, and especially what I saw on the other side of the bridge at one of them—The water was so smooth and still before it hit the big fall. Then, it suddenly rushed from the top, hitting rocks from one side to another as it made a pathway down into a steady stream of water that was somewhere in between the calm and the chaos it had just come from. I just stared at the water for several minutes feeling like I was looking at this season of life DH and I have been traveling.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"> It has felt like someone suddenly pushed us off an edge, threw us against the rocks and left us trying to find the path to take to get down.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">But as I stepped back to look at the bigger picture, I saw beauty. There was beauty in the quiet and the stillness, there was beauty in the unexpected, turbulent twists and turns, and there was beauty in all of the in betweens. </span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7zTgM4GZzAE/XXnDp9sv5LI/AAAAAAAADSA/qpiKnK-dai4Vv2Bi8I8LiNL43LIKdctYwCEwYBhgL/s1600/A4161A89-CFEF-4C42-904A-9374EB9C98A8.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="484" data-original-width="640" height="242" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7zTgM4GZzAE/XXnDp9sv5LI/AAAAAAAADSA/qpiKnK-dai4Vv2Bi8I8LiNL43LIKdctYwCEwYBhgL/s320/A4161A89-CFEF-4C42-904A-9374EB9C98A8.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-kerning: none;">The Lord has been so kind to DH and me. We’ve been through a lot, we are going through a lot, and there is probably a lot more to come. This sin-filled world often pulls us in directions not intended by God's perfect plan, but despite what man means for evil, God is able to make into good. He wants me to take a step back and look at the big picture, so just maybe I'll see the beauty of it all. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Thank you for giving the girl in the overalls with braided pigtails a second glance 19 years ago, DH. You are:</span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sxzw3fvXHok/XXnDRySYc8I/AAAAAAAADR4/xlFaLLxv0Two19xPbYk8irJOeZBHaHRowCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_9036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sxzw3fvXHok/XXnDRySYc8I/AAAAAAAADR4/xlFaLLxv0Two19xPbYk8irJOeZBHaHRowCEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_9036.JPG" width="240" /></a><span style="font-kerning: none;">1. the love of my life</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">2. my hero</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">3. best friend</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">4. sweetguy</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">5. calm-to-my-crazy</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">6. treasured</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">7. cherished</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">8. amazing</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">9. incredible</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">10. discerning</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">11. selfless</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">12. talented</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">13. handsome</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">14. funny</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">15. respectable</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">16. admirable</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">17. patient</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">18. passionate</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">19. determined guy, and so so so many more things! </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"> 19 years ago may have started like just a normal day, but it now serves as a reminder that even when we don't realize it or maybe it just doesn't seem like it, God is always at work in our lives, seeking to bring good to His children for His glory. </span></div>
Paula-Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760205491923422878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8482996357959707989.post-54879120113796275462018-12-08T16:00:00.002-08:002018-12-08T16:00:28.417-08:00The Peppermint Marshmallow Candle...This may be a record for how long I've gone between published blogposts. I've started many, but just haven't been able to finish them and actually post them. It's been a busy season changing from the various hats I'm blessed to wear right now. I'll admit that many of the past several months have been quite challenging and have caused me to hold things closer to my heart. I think I may understand a little more about what Luke 2:19 means in saying that, <i>"But Mary treasured all these things, pondering them in her heart."</i> Today isn't the day to dive into all of that, but I hope one day I can share it all here.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k2Ad-Ns7Gy4/XAxaOwBVNeI/AAAAAAAADO0/sRg4eSj2kRofrXs9Yfq_81l8YUQe2KI8QCLcBGAs/s1600/FullSizeRender%252832%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="481" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k2Ad-Ns7Gy4/XAxaOwBVNeI/AAAAAAAADO0/sRg4eSj2kRofrXs9Yfq_81l8YUQe2KI8QCLcBGAs/s320/FullSizeRender%252832%2529.jpg" width="240" /></a>I'm currently sitting by our front window snuggled up in my favorite Mema blanket. The chill coming from the front window coupled with the view of the streets blanketed in leaves having fallen from the now bare trees definitely set the perfect mood for an early December day. The past few days, I've really been wanting a candle to put in my studio to fill the house with a nice Christmas-y scent. I immediately thought of those amazing Bath and Body Works ones--you know how they always have the best holiday smelling candles? I just didn't think that was something I needed to spend the money on right now though. We went out as a family today to do some Christmas shopping, and Lucy and I went to pick out some gifts at Bath and Body Works. I found myself over at the candle section smelling this amazing Peppermint Marshmallow scent. We later headed for the line and Lucy asked me, "Where's the candle, Mom? I thought you wanted it?" I told her, "I'm not going to get it. I don't usually buy presents for myself before Christmas." A few moments later, a lady behind us in line came up and asked Lucy what the name of the candle was that I was wanting because she wanted to bless me with it. I couldn't believe it. She ran over to find it and I just started crying. The past several days I had been wanting a Bath and Body Works candle--it wasn't anything I <i>needed</i> by any means, but a total stranger simply heard a conversation I had with my daughter and, on the spot, chose to live generously and selflessly.<br />
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rKbNqcgAZYQ/XAxaO2rwNqI/AAAAAAAADOw/dso5OuLhNMsYUjrNnoZwrG4nuloqXcVLQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_3421.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rKbNqcgAZYQ/XAxaO2rwNqI/AAAAAAAADOw/dso5OuLhNMsYUjrNnoZwrG4nuloqXcVLQCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_3421.JPG" width="240" /></a><br />
During the Christmas season, we reflect on lots of things and we practice many traditions. Perhaps the widest spread tradition is that of giving gifts. We may often lose sight of the reason behind our doing this, but the theme behind giving and receiving gifts is all because of our Saviour that was given to us so that we might have the gift of eternal life should we choose to receive it. Our church is currently asking our congregation to focus on acts of giving throughout this holiday season as we reflect on Christ's amazing gift to us. I find it so beautiful how the Lord would choose to allow me to be the recipient of such a precious example of someone's desire to be a blessing to someone else. I pray that the Lord will help me to have a spirit of generosity like this sweet woman did for me today.<br />
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Pass it on, friends!Paula-Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760205491923422878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8482996357959707989.post-35418135977672996262018-05-29T21:57:00.002-07:002018-05-29T21:57:52.258-07:00Transformation...*THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK...CLANK clink clack CLANK THUNK THUNK...*<br />
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It's been a symphony of construction at our house the past few weeks. While some might find the noise annoying, it was certainly more like music to our ears as years (literally!) of prayers had been creatively answered, even down to how we found a contractor that was perfect for the job we needed done. (Remember all of those neck issues I've been having? I spent months in physical therapy trying to get some relief from the issue and my physical therapist "happened" to mention he knew of a wonderful contractor.) I still remember when the contractor originally came out to our house
and stepped around all of the toys in the garage, making measurements
and telling us his plans of how he could make the space into a room. He was confident of his ability to transform our space, and while I knew that he <i>could</i> build a room out of our garage, I just wasn't sure how it would ever truly <i>feel </i>like anything but a garage. But, God opened the (garage) door wide open and made it clear
this is what we were supposed to do, so we trusted the contractor and
embarked on the expansion just a little over three weeks ago. <br />
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They started to work on a Monday and the frame went up on Tuesday. I excitedly entered the (still to me) garage after the workers left to see how everything looked, but my heart immediately sank. It looked SO tiny! How would we ever fit any furniture in there?! The space seemed so narrow... Perhaps we made a mistake in how we had planned it out? But thankfully, DH came home and calmed me down, had me walk around other bedrooms in the house for some perspective, and he reminded me that the room wasn't <i>finished</i> yet. It was going to look and feel different when it was all done, but I just wasn't able to see that end result at that point.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-epvVqF9YHT8/Ww4XBCr1GbI/AAAAAAAADNQ/lxrT4aD4Wi4M-NxIB53GnXzKHpmx15DyQCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_0739.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-epvVqF9YHT8/Ww4XBCr1GbI/AAAAAAAADNQ/lxrT4aD4Wi4M-NxIB53GnXzKHpmx15DyQCEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_0739.JPG" width="240" /></a>We stayed up late that second night into the project with Lucy, covering every single piece of framework in scripture. I'll never forget her turning to me at one point and
saying, "Mommy, thank you so much for taking the time to do this with
me. This is so special!"<br />
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We truly made it <i>her</i> room. I think that's when it started to feel more like it could actually be a bedroom and not just a garage.<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FpJzr6ebQYU/Ww4XArn1JsI/AAAAAAAADNE/rGokIHuuFBAdGt3l5j0a6p_iiJRq4N2YACEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_0736.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FpJzr6ebQYU/Ww4XArn1JsI/AAAAAAAADNE/rGokIHuuFBAdGt3l5j0a6p_iiJRq4N2YACEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_0736.JPG" width="240" /></a>We planned out where we thought her bed would
go and placed scriptures on the framework by it about not being afraid,
since she has often struggled with sleep issues. We placed specific
scriptures over the closets and doorways and by the light switch, each
one having significance for her precious life. With each step, we all grew more and more excited, but I still couldn't visualize what the finished product could possibly look like.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dJvkk0IsQZo/Ww4XCSf7dQI/AAAAAAAADNI/naW36uA1ZBos0X9bdB2pprmYz5zpEAfQwCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_0852.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dJvkk0IsQZo/Ww4XCSf7dQI/AAAAAAAADNI/naW36uA1ZBos0X9bdB2pprmYz5zpEAfQwCEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_0852.JPG" width="320" /></a>Every day, things happened that made the room more and more complete. Sheetrock, insulation, and texture were all added... <br />
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Built in shelves were added connected to a box-like structure that hid the garage door opener so we could continue to use the door automatically for our "new" remaining garage (it made it look like a built in bookcase) and doors were placed...<br />
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Everything got a fresh coat of paint...<br />
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And then carpet was laid and all of the finishing touches were made...<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zew2V9TldHw/Wwza07F29vI/AAAAAAAADMQ/JIQVQoETegYHRT63dGSl7KXsSNYOMbbUQCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_1062.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zew2V9TldHw/Wwza07F29vI/AAAAAAAADMQ/JIQVQoETegYHRT63dGSl7KXsSNYOMbbUQCEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_1062.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kY4eHyUjf7Y/Ww4ZfMTQmSI/AAAAAAAADNg/3xbY-nZZkfA4XeL5HIpkJdE1T-TLd-MgwCEwYBhgL/s1600/PicCollage.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kY4eHyUjf7Y/Ww4ZfMTQmSI/AAAAAAAADNg/3xbY-nZZkfA4XeL5HIpkJdE1T-TLd-MgwCEwYBhgL/s320/PicCollage.png" width="240" /></a>It certainly was no longer a garage but truly a gorgeous room and an incredible example of God's kindness and His response to many years of praying for the creativity to make this home work for our family. I find myself just wanting to sit in Lucy's new room and just soak in the beauty within those walls--not just the physical beauty of the fresh paint and pretty decorations, but the beauty of answered prayer, God's perfect timing, and His incredible plan. So often in life, I just cannot see past the ugliness of what I'm going through; I can't make sense of the hurt I'm experiencing or come to terms with the trials I'm facing, but God is able to see past the state that I'm currently in and knows what He's capable of doing through me. He knows what beauty He can make of the ashes. I may not be able to see what He's doing in my present circumstances, and I may not feel like I'll ever be able to view it any differently, but if I'll allow Him, my Jesus has the plans necessary to renovate even the dreariest of hearts into a beautiful, wonderful masterpiece. Just three weeks ago, I was parking my minivan in the very spot that my oldest daughter is now parking her head to sleep each evening, and it's really hard for me to think of it in its previous state now, because the room has truly been transformed. Perhaps I thought we were going to have someone come in and put up a wall, slap some paint on it, and we would just <i>call</i> it Lucy's new bedroom, but it would still always just be an old garage underneath. That's not what happened here though. Our contractor took a dirty old garage and transformed it into something totally new and amazing, and that's exactly what God desires to do with each of us...<br />
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The process isn't typically our favorite part of the journey (I think that applies to SO many areas of our lives!)--that's why I didn't really post any pictures about it all while we were in the process of having it done. I really wanted to be able to show it to y'all from start to finish, so I'm super excited that I can now take you on a tour of Lucy's new room, which feels like a big gift straight from our Heavenly Father!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VTV1p0lNfns/Ww4jJtE5yKI/AAAAAAAADOI/hHVa894E9Akk2LxtoFQrOUGEN7wF7DASwCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_1051.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VTV1p0lNfns/Ww4jJtE5yKI/AAAAAAAADOI/hHVa894E9Akk2LxtoFQrOUGEN7wF7DASwCEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_1051.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The wall to the left when you walk into the room. We added some of our headbands to this $5 find!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I made the canvas with the theme verse I chose for Lucy years ago. I chose Psalm 66:19 for the chalkboard: "But surely God has listened; He has attended to the voice of my prayer."</td></tr>
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...When we started discussing what Lucy might want as the new theme for her bedroom, she had one request: no pink! LOL! If you've seen her old room, you'll understand why! (The walls are VERY very very very pink!) However, she did end up deciding that <i>some</i> pink was actually okay:) We talked about a music theme, mermaids, and threw some other ideas around, but then she told me one of the things she really wanted to have in her room was a nightstand with a lamp on it. That instantly reminded me of how her name means bringer of light, so we tossed around the idea of doing something with Matthew 5:16 on her walls, and that's when she decided that she wanted her overall theme to be scripture everywhere in her room. I certainly didn't have any objection to that! I love that she wanted her walls filled with Truth! <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-V6zE2PFpLzk/Ww4jJbUf-PI/AAAAAAAADOI/Udxem1FIp18otyvTjVBIOwnjHq6XcAneACEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_1020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-V6zE2PFpLzk/Ww4jJbUf-PI/AAAAAAAADOI/Udxem1FIp18otyvTjVBIOwnjHq6XcAneACEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_1020.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This might be my favorite design spot! She wanted something with John
3:16 on her walls ($6 clearance at Hobby Lobby!) and I found the little
vases on my trip to the silos in Waco the week before her room was
finished. Lucy's a huge "Fixer Upper" fan, so I wanted her to have
something from my trip there.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EHsrbNz9t3s/Ww4jJTx_93I/AAAAAAAADOM/c7QhtqgkZj0OlnTXhOgVEuQ1m2XVUrUiwCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_1049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EHsrbNz9t3s/Ww4jJTx_93I/AAAAAAAADOM/c7QhtqgkZj0OlnTXhOgVEuQ1m2XVUrUiwCEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_1049.JPG" width="320" /></a>I love how when you walk into her room, you see the calm color on the walls (Sherwin Williams' "Tame Teal") mixed with the clean white lines of the built in shelves and the fun, bright colors in her bedding. Instead of a nightstand lamp like originally planned, we ended up going with this fun multi-color floor lamp that bends in different directions, so it's perfect for her to use if she wants to read in bed. We also wanted her first dance recital frame as a focal point when you walk in the room since it's such a beautiful piece and dancing is a big part of her life with her love for musical theater.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The pink felt board has already been changed out three times--Lucy is having lots of fun with it!</td></tr>
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Looking at the room from the opposite direction you can see her closet, the hot water heater hidden behind a closet, the door going into the rest of the house, and then <i>another</i> closet! While this room does belong to Lucy, I did tell her that I would be taking over the second closet! LOL! DH had the idea to put Lucy's toybox bench at the foot of her bed which is the perfect place for her to pile all of her stuffed animals into after she gets up every morning.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iF-9lHbSf9Y/Ww4jJ9gXyXI/AAAAAAAADOM/zyugOp-G-js6n9l345MDvkgDTn6e4hQzgCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_1052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iF-9lHbSf9Y/Ww4jJ9gXyXI/AAAAAAAADOM/zyugOp-G-js6n9l345MDvkgDTn6e4hQzgCEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_1052.JPG" width="320" /></a>The built in shelves are seriously amazing! They are HUGE and are the perfect size for Lucy's very own American Girl dollhouse. The bins help hide clutter on the shelves (as much as possible) and she has lots of space for books and nick-knacks.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jjY6-M9YY7s/Ww4jKw7i76I/AAAAAAAADOU/03gWuMVzveIsKTdLMAPZM8KBX5hK5j4cwCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_1057.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jjY6-M9YY7s/Ww4jKw7i76I/AAAAAAAADOU/03gWuMVzveIsKTdLMAPZM8KBX5hK5j4cwCEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_1057.JPG" width="320" /></a>And in this photo, you can see that Lucy's new room is definitely the place to be! Everyone has been wanting to hang out there and play. Lucy's never been one to want to be off to herself, so I don't think she minds this one bit, yet she still has the option of having somewhere to go that's a little more quiet in the house when she wants to. The photos might not show it very well, but there is plenty of open floor space in the middle of the room which is so nice! You can also see the chest of drawers and desk that I found on facebook marketplace for her at an incredible price . They "just happen" to match the nightstand and headboard almost perfectly that someone passed down to us for her. We still need to find her a desk chair and desk lamp, but she's definitely all settled in and so appreciative of this amazing gift. It really is so precious to look at everything and see how it all came together and how the Lord provided in such a beautiful and abundant way.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aVBeym3aZ5Y/Ww4rgVVvGHI/AAAAAAAADOc/_0yTijg3MfkJJHG3FEHdyRjrHaVTTVfFACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1046.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aVBeym3aZ5Y/Ww4rgVVvGHI/AAAAAAAADOc/_0yTijg3MfkJJHG3FEHdyRjrHaVTTVfFACLcBGAs/s320/IMG_1046.JPG" width="240" /></a>One definition I found for the word "transformation" is this: <i>a complete change in the appearance or character of something so that that thing is improved</i>." Our garage has truly undergone a major transformation. My prayer is that as Lucy grows up in this space, her heart will continue to transform into the young woman God would have her to be. Keep shining brightly my little light bringer!<br />
Paula-Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760205491923422878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8482996357959707989.post-46828473895647513102018-05-18T08:06:00.002-07:002018-05-18T20:11:09.451-07:00No Fast Passes for Kindergarten Graduation...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I really wish I had taken a picture of the Disney-esque line that was forming on the sidewalk outside of the kids' school. I was determined not to be a herd animal in the 100 degree heat (or what felt like it at least) and follow suit as everyone slowly began to line up behind one another, assuming that surely they would open the doors soon to let us all in. Nope. The car's air conditioner and contained children seemed a much better option for me until I saw actual movement of the line. Besides, at this point, we were going to be at the back of the line anyway since we obviously missed the last of the fast passes because we didn't abide by the "have your child here <b>no later than 5:15</b>" note. oops. #momfail #rushhour #Iwonderifwewerethereasoneveryonehadtowait<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X9tn3peRH4g/Wv7kqqa5knI/AAAAAAAADK8/y4L0ly7W8LUPl7_6yJCUGZrtErmD94Z4QCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0896.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X9tn3peRH4g/Wv7kqqa5knI/AAAAAAAADK8/y4L0ly7W8LUPl7_6yJCUGZrtErmD94Z4QCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_0896.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q7LNLm9yUoo/Wv7krH5dY-I/AAAAAAAADLA/MADD5mI3iQQwbAk2u9ys2CNSNkt8XNmNgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0897.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q7LNLm9yUoo/Wv7krH5dY-I/AAAAAAAADLA/MADD5mI3iQQwbAk2u9ys2CNSNkt8XNmNgCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_0897.JPG" width="240" /></a><i>Seriously, wouldn't it be great if life were all magical like Disney and we were given so many fast passes to use each day?! ;-)</i><br />
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When the doors flew open, flocks of excited moms, dads and grandparents made there way in anxiously to get a good seat while droves of fussy toddlers immediately caught sight of the refreshment table. My eyes quickly fixed themselves on a table of framed pictures of each individual kindergarten graduate in their cap and gown. I scanned all of them, looking for my Gabriel, and then DH pointed "he's right there." I then saw a photo of the sweetest, most handsome little boy, and my eyes filled with tears and my heart just overflowed. In his big, brown eyes were so much love, and in his smile was so much sweetness. And in that cap and gown I saw the baby boy that was growing up into a precious child that I have the privilege to mother and nurture and guide and protect. It was just a simple photo, but it was a reminder of another milestone my little one has reached. He's continuing to grow up, and I continue to be the one privileged to experience it with him. With that, I feel such weight, responsibility and gratitude!<br />
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As the graduates rounded the corner, they performed several of their songs and poems from the year, Gabriel ending each one with a "kiss emoji" face that had us all in stitches! I was reminded of his sense of humor and how he loves to make us all laugh.<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O0ISSAov2ng/Wv7kqRDWxiI/AAAAAAAADK4/XUhXq7F5DM0XboEYCa9J-XuI4wfGWXVNwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0894.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O0ISSAov2ng/Wv7kqRDWxiI/AAAAAAAADK4/XUhXq7F5DM0XboEYCa9J-XuI4wfGWXVNwCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_0894.JPG" width="320" /></a>During the program, he looked over to his Gigi and signed the letter "I" in sign language, followed by making a heart with his hand, and then pointing to her. Gigi pretty much puddled up into the floor right then and there--it was such a precious moment, reminding me of what a sensitive, loving heart Gabriel has.<br />
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When his teacher spoke of Gabriel when he received his diploma, she talked about how Gabriel was very special to her from the start because when she first saw him, it was like one of her sons had walked into the room--Gabriel looked just like he did when he was that age! I love that they had a special bond because of that. She also said how he knew all of the Bible stories so well (apparently Jonah and the Whale is his favorite, or at least that is what he chose to draw in his picture) and how special and loved he is, and he knows it, because he has two moms! I love that those are the words she spoke to him at this special moment in his life, and I hope he will carry that with him and remember them in the days to come as he grows older. I don't ever want him to forgot how special he truly is because of this! He is SO so very loved by so many people! I think every time I see him experience a milestone, I get extra emotional because I realize what a gift it is.<br />
<br />
I could have missed this. He could have missed this. Our lives could have been so different. But God.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MAWz0GWYcho/Wv7krfYXNXI/AAAAAAAADLE/_5KMYHd91EEWLNbqSW9FnbtrLWEsxELvwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0901.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MAWz0GWYcho/Wv7krfYXNXI/AAAAAAAADLE/_5KMYHd91EEWLNbqSW9FnbtrLWEsxELvwCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_0901.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XEZId4amj6k/Wv7krmE87PI/AAAAAAAADLI/DiI9gHtWWj0refCQ23xvKyc0lk9dXGOoACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0902.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XEZId4amj6k/Wv7krmE87PI/AAAAAAAADLI/DiI9gHtWWj0refCQ23xvKyc0lk9dXGOoACLcBGAs/s320/IMG_0902.JPG" width="240" /></a>God, in His wisdom, made a way to bring our family together. It is such a reminder to me in every aspect of life that I can trust God with the details, for who else could work them out so beautifully? It might be tempting to follow the crowd with their large lines forming outside the cafeteria walls, and I may be tempted to want to turn in a fast pass by rushing things along instead of waiting on His perfect timing, but my prayer is that I can keep my eyes fixed firmly on my Jesus, and I can allow my heart to wait patiently for His prompting.<br />
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A verse I love for Gabriel is Deuteronomy 31:6 which reads, <i> </i><br />
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<i>"Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes before you; He will never leave you nor forsake you."</i> </div>
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Congratulations to my favorite-est little boy in the whole entire world! </div>
Paula-Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760205491923422878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8482996357959707989.post-9329302360636761292018-02-19T20:45:00.000-08:002018-02-19T20:45:31.189-08:00Traffic Lights...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Thursdays are what DH and I refer to as "date day." Three of the four
kids are in school, so we try not to plan anything during the lunch
hour so that we can go out to eat together. Considering the fact that we
still have Tiny T with us, it's technically nowhere near a romantic
getaway, but we really enjoy our Thursday "Toller trio" dates. Last
Thursday, I had a physical therapy appointment for my neck, so
Evangeline got to hang out with Daddy in his office for a bit while I
had needles poked through the muscles of my back and neck (I'm getting
desperate, y'all!), and she ended up falling asleep watching Buck Denver
in his office, so instead of waking her (by child number four, you just
know better!) we decided it would be better for me to just bring some
takeout up to the church and have a picnic in DH's office. (Any time
spent together is a plus in our book!:)<br /><br />
Anyway,
after I picked up our food, I pulled out onto what is possibly one of
the busiest streets in our area of the city we live in, only to discover
that the stoplights were blinking red. As you probably know, this means
that everyone has to treat the crossroads as a four-way stop. The only
problems is that there are multiple lanes, and apparently, every single
car in every single lane of every single side had an agenda that was far
more pressing than anyone else's. It was mass chaos! Have you ever seen
those old black and white films of people driving before there were
stoplights? <br />
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It's
crazy trying to make sense of it all! However, even with proper
guidelines set in place for these types of situations (which everyone
with a current drivers license is supposed to know to have been able to
pass the exam to receive a license) all bets were basically off. People
are so used to the obvious laws that traffic symbols provide us that
once you take those away, we don't know how to respond with the freedom
to act on our own free will. A part of me wanted to just sit and give up
and not even move my car at all, just out of the fear that I was going
to get hit. And then at another point (because there were multiple
lights that were down) I found myself wanting to be extremely aggressive
and just go for it, not even knowing if it was actually my turn or not
but just getting it over with and getting to my destination.<br />
<br />
I
then discovered I was chuckling at myself. I didn't know how to respond
to an opportunity without the typical boundaries set in
place--boundaries that are there to provide order and safety--and it
appeared that no one else did either.<br />
<br />
I immediately
thought of how this so relates to our spiritual lives. God has so
lovingly placed boundaries in our lives because He knows they will help
guide us in the right direction. They make it clearer which direction to
go and when we should go in that direction. They keep us from stumbling
into things we should not, from crashing into obstacles, and from
running over others hastily. Boundaries often seem confining, but they
exist to keep us safe. We get frustrated when they stop us at
inconvenient times, or when they slow us down before we want, but that's
because we can't see beyond them, and our Heavenly Daddy can. You see,
He loves us too much to <i>not</i> give us boundaries. What we so often
see as confinement and even punishment is actually a loving place of
safety our Father has provided specifically for us to thrive within for
our good and His glory.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RC7ll_ZgiRQ/WoufLskY6hI/AAAAAAAADI8/PfQd6FmHiRE3PsRPD8DuPXqhLQ7tysU1QCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_9068.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="481" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RC7ll_ZgiRQ/WoufLskY6hI/AAAAAAAADI8/PfQd6FmHiRE3PsRPD8DuPXqhLQ7tysU1QCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_9068.JPG" width="240" /></a>We
are currently dealing with an almost two year old who does NOT like to
be confined and restricted by any means whatsoever. She refuses to stay
put in her crib, fights being placed in her carseat, discovers ways to
climb over any baby gate, and is not detoured by any type of child proof
lid, latch or lock. To say we are exhausted is an understatement, for
it has to encompass every portion of the word mentally, physically, etc.
But what a picture this precious child is to me of my relationship with
my Daddy-God. I am constantly having to tell her "no" and to pull her
away from things that will harm her and that are not good for her, and
she continually refuses to listen to me and runs back to them out of her
own selfish desires, but out of my love for her, I passionately pursue
her to ensure her safety with the goal that she will one day learn to
follow these goals on her own will. I am relentless in my pursuit of her
until that time though because I love her too much to let her harm
herself.<br />
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Do
we truly grasp our Daddy-God's love for us--the height and the depth
and the greatness of it? He has spared nothing to show it to us, and He
continually pours it out to us. Sometimes, it's with a bright green
light telling us we can move ahead, often times it's with a blazing
yellow light reminding us to slow down and wait for His perfect timing,
or perhaps He will ask us to come to a complete stop out of His pure
love for us. Will we trust that what He has for us will fulfill us far
more than anything we could ever seek out on our own? Paula-Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760205491923422878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8482996357959707989.post-68202457242496688202017-12-26T12:03:00.001-08:002017-12-26T12:03:35.668-08:00Fire Ant Beds and the Sting of Rejection...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;">Have you ever found yourself in the unfortunate position outside atop of a fire ant bed? It's never a choice you make purposefully, although there are fewer things that will make you move with much greater purpose! The sting of such a tiny army truly makes you feel under attack and can have you raving around the yard like a lunatic, trying everything within you to just get them off of you, and yet, at the same time, leaving you feeling powerless and paralyzed in the moment. Even long after they've physically left you, their presence is far from gone because they can leave behind large welps on your skin from their attacks. However, sometimes their work leaves no mark at all. Regardless, the pain is still very much felt for quite some time. </span><br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kXZrqWl3KtM/WkKohl4L6zI/AAAAAAAADIQ/YT3kCIq5oiQIJKTTJcIoSHHD93WF6yY_gCLcBGAs/s1600/FullSizeRender%252830%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="482" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kXZrqWl3KtM/WkKohl4L6zI/AAAAAAAADIQ/YT3kCIq5oiQIJKTTJcIoSHHD93WF6yY_gCLcBGAs/s320/FullSizeRender%252830%2529.jpg" width="241" /></a>I've stood atop many fire ant beds in my day as a child and an adult, but not just in my front yard. I've also stood in them when I was in school, when I've been among a group of peers, and even at church and family gatherings. What type of fire ant beds are these, you ask? They are the type that leave behind a different type of pain: the sting of rejection. It, too, is not a situation that you purposefully place yourself in, and it feels as if you have been placed under attack by an army of evil, hurtful, words that have crippling powers, leaving you feeling the desire to run for cover but as if you cannot move at the same time. Long after your encounter, the words still scar you, maybe not visibly, but inwardly; you have been wounded.</div>
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I've faced these types of fire ant beds in many different forms throughout my life. They never sting any less, and they never get any easier to deal with. In fact, some of them hurt a whole lot more than others and are a lot more difficult to get over than others, and if I'm not careful, I find myself growing bitter towards the incident ever occurring. It's easy to feel as if I'm entitled to a reaction to it all. After all, I was wronged! I'm the victim here! But that's not at all what I preach to my children day in and day out...</div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EQNgaYCoVMk/WkKqEma_lSI/AAAAAAAADIc/Zxa5IPNu3hspkI7pDoXW2h_8pPac4OpxgCLcBGAs/s1600/FullSizeRender%252831%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EQNgaYCoVMk/WkKqEma_lSI/AAAAAAAADIc/Zxa5IPNu3hspkI7pDoXW2h_8pPac4OpxgCLcBGAs/s320/FullSizeRender%252831%2529.jpg" width="240" /></a>If you're ever around us in our daily life, then you've likely heard us quote Ephesians 4:32. It's basically our family's life verse. The kids all<br />
(with the exception of Tiny T, although she may just be holding out on some massive vocabulary!;-) have it memorized, and we quote it pretty much daily:</div>
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<i>Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other just as in Christ God forgave you.</i> Ephesians 4:32</div>
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There's no exceptions to this verse. It's a very simple command we are given to live by: be kind, compassionate, and forgiving. Those are the three things I try to ask my kids every time they get fussy with one another: Are you being kind, Gabriel and Annie Beth? Are you being compassionate, Lucy and Evangeline? And lately, I've had to ask myself this one: Are YOU being forgiving, Paula-Beth? No, not to my kids, but to some other "fire ants" in my life because it is so easy to become bitter, and when we let bitterness take root in our hearts, it's like continuously picking off those scabs from the ant bites. It just rips them open and makes them hurt worse and wounds us even more and leaves the ugliest scars imprinted upon us that we can't seem to get rid of.<br />
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The holidays can often greet us with a lot of fire ant beds if we're honest.Various gatherings can be hurtful and bring up a lot of harsh memories, hurtful words, painful realities, and difficulties. But the Truth is still in the midst of it all: The pain is very real, but so is our God. He is our ultimate Healer and restorer, and nothing that happens to us goes unnoticed by Him. He stands ever ready to allow us to crawl into His lap, to cry to Him, to be comforted by Him, and to move forward with His strength. Psalm 26:3a tells us that His love is ever before us, and that is something that I choose to cling to during this season of my life. The hurt and the pain is so very real, but so is His love, and I have a choice to make of which I will choose to place my focus on. <br />
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So as you find yourself walking outside today, beware of the fire ant beds, but remember that sometimes, they're just unavoidable, and God's love is always one more step ahead of them.</div>
Paula-Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760205491923422878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8482996357959707989.post-55955873423464609852017-12-21T12:25:00.001-08:002017-12-21T12:25:28.553-08:00Hark the HAROLD Angels Sing...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I love Christmas music! I've reset most of my radio stations in the car to all of the stations playing it continuously since before Thanksgiving. I'm a bit sad that I've yet to hear one of my all time favorites (<i>I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas</i>), and I also grow tired of the constant Santa songs, (no offense, but I'm just not a big Santa fan), but I love hearing all of the Smitty classics over and over again, Manheim Steamroller, and Trans-Siberian Orchestra, etc. One day, the familiar "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas" was playing, and Lucy had the following conversation with me:<br />
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<i>Lucy: "What does that line mean"</i><br />
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<i>Me: "Which one?"</i><br />
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<i>Lucy: "The one about the mom and dad saying that they want school to start back up."</i><br />
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I honestly wasn't exactly sure how to best explain it to her. I mean, I truly love having my kids home on break. I love having them home with me! I love the freedom away from the busy schedules of having to get up earlier, having to be somewhere by a certain time in the mornings, having deadlines to meet for schoolwork, etc. But, I also recognize that the routine of school is good for my kids. They tend to do better when they have a specific schedule to follow. Case in point: this week has been a bit of a disaster! With lots of rain and chilly temps, the kids have been bouncing off the walls, getting on each other's nerves, not being obedient to DH and me, fighting and being unkind to one another, etc. I really haven't had a single moment to myself, and it's been a bit difficult to regroup and stay calm and collected amidst it all. I'm not necessarily saying I "can hardly wait for school to start again," but I recognize the need for a bit more structure in my kids' lives right now than what we've had the past several days.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jfw4r6U-o1Q/WjwXEf8t-AI/AAAAAAAADHU/DE_dPc4mAWA3n5o2RYPWykzu7RUxNQwcACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_8634.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jfw4r6U-o1Q/WjwXEf8t-AI/AAAAAAAADHU/DE_dPc4mAWA3n5o2RYPWykzu7RUxNQwcACLcBGAs/s320/IMG_8634.JPG" width="240" /></a>So, last night, we had a big family "pow wow," where we just sat the kids down and really set some expectations for them on behaviour and what we expect from them. I understand that they are just kids, but certain things are just unacceptable: taking six hours to clean your room is not acceptable, for example; hitting and biting your sister is not acceptable, for example; pushing your brother is not acceptable, for example; stomping your foot or throwing a fit when you don't get your way is not acceptable, for example...and the list goes on. I realize all of these characteristics that my children posses can actually be used in a positive light, but it's all just a matter of pointing them in the right direction, and some days it is really hard to figure out how to get the arrow to go towards the bulls eye. My vision is often blurred because I'm tired, because of physical pain I'm experiencing, because of emotional stress I'm under, and, again, list goes on. But I'm not meant to do this on my own, and when I try to, it is VERY obvious!<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-51Mcvfa-SsI/WjwXD55Xv0I/AAAAAAAADHQ/Tb91D42NP8c8NqWnvLzuYt8ojbwRvWDUgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_8580.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-51Mcvfa-SsI/WjwXD55Xv0I/AAAAAAAADHQ/Tb91D42NP8c8NqWnvLzuYt8ojbwRvWDUgCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_8580.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3Z33Y38-M3M/WjwXDny2n4I/AAAAAAAADHM/T3JfKRfGK9YOFa7D3ay--AoUKpJL4x9oQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_8538.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3Z33Y38-M3M/WjwXDny2n4I/AAAAAAAADHM/T3JfKRfGK9YOFa7D3ay--AoUKpJL4x9oQCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_8538.JPG" width="320" /></a>During the Christmas season, we have a little visitor that joins our family for a journey to find the true treasure of Christmas. He is a shepherd named "Harold" (as in "(Hark the HERALD angels sing") and he moves around each day with a different message for the kids. (It is like a Christian version of Elf on the shelf, and the kids think it is so much fun!) We've had a lot of fun trying to creatively place him in different places in the house, and coming up with different things for him to "say." Lucy calls his chalkboard we use his "thought bubble." Well, I decided last night that today's thought bubble would be a great opportunity to talk about how God's mercies are new for us every morning when we mess up. It not only is a lesson to my children after the difficult day we had yesterday, but it's a much needed reminder to myself as I struggle with all of my "mommy mishaps." Oh, how I need Jesus' grace and forgiveness in my life, and boy am I thankful that He offers it so freely! It's easy to get all 'wrapped" up in busy-ness of the Christmas season being about holiday parties and recitals and programs and gifts and get-togethers, but what it's all really about is a baby that came for you and me that we might be forgiven from our sins so we could spend eternity with our Creator. What a reason to celebrate!<br />
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Paula-Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760205491923422878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8482996357959707989.post-413139191665210782017-11-25T13:38:00.001-08:002017-11-25T13:38:41.434-08:00The Prayers of a Five-Year Old...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's often interesting the things that appear on your timehop and how they can relate to things you are continuing to go through in a strange, unrelated, and yet similar ways. This status update pictured here was posted on my facebook five years ago. I chuckled as I read it, and can almost be transported back to Lucy's room and hear her sweet little five year old voice praying the first of many of that same prayer. It's not that she wasn't thrilled to have a baby brother, but if you knew Lucy during the time we were in the adoption process, you might remember that she was specifically asking for a brother <b>and</b> a sister, so when Gabriel was born, she wanted to know where her sister was! Lucy <br />
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zoYBVsd1JhM/Whm3dkLE9sI/AAAAAAAADGU/DEZYiUnSmq0-OS5xbnAaXRZBGkBOwU4IwCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_8164.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zoYBVsd1JhM/Whm3dkLE9sI/AAAAAAAADGU/DEZYiUnSmq0-OS5xbnAaXRZBGkBOwU4IwCEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_8164.JPG" width="240" /></a>has always been a bit wise beyond her years, a deep thinker and feeler who marches to life in her own beat. She also tends to see life in black and white, so since she asked for a brother and a sister, it just seemed logical that she was getting a sister and that response was somehow delayed somewhat, so she decided to just continue to ask...and ask and ask and ask and ask and ask! The way I see it, the Lord figured that she was so faithful in asking, that He might as well bless her with not just one, but TWO sisters for being so faithful in her request! LOL! <br />
So Lucy ended up with not just a brother in Gabriel (whose name means "My God is my might"), and not just a sister in Annie (whose name means "prayer"), but also a bonus sister in Evangeline (whose name means "bringer of the Good news.")<br />
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The story of answered prayer does not end there though! God doesn't hear just the prayers of sweet little five-year old girls; he also hears the prayers of precious little five-year old boys! You see, Gabriel has been asking for a puppy for quite some time. (Truth be known, so has his momma!;-) Recently, he re-watched the movie <i>The Secret Life of Pets,</i> which stars a dog named Max. Gabriel then began asking, again, if he could have a dog. Gabriel really hates getting his hair cut (it's a traumatic experience for him typically, although, as a of late, he's starting to outgrow it somewhat.) One day, we had gone to lunch, and he was asking if, afterward, we could go get a puppy if he did good with getting his hair cut. (Smooth one, GP! LOL) I told him, <i>"Honey, maybe we can go LOOK at puppies, but we can't actually GET a puppy today. I tell ya what, though. If you really really really want a puppy, then you need to pray and ask Jesus for a puppy. That doesn't mean that you're going to get a puppy, because it may not be what our family needs right now, but we can always pray about anything, okay?" </i>He smiled, quite satisfied with that response, and agreed, saying, <i>"OKAY!"</i><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ffw-9M6oTt4/Whm3d5kwVlI/AAAAAAAADGU/3A0RsxkbZG8fqwgC8NytAI5NL2sOUoRqgCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_8176.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ffw-9M6oTt4/Whm3d5kwVlI/AAAAAAAADGU/3A0RsxkbZG8fqwgC8NytAI5NL2sOUoRqgCEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_8176.JPG" width="240" /></a>Well, not two minutes later, I get a text from a church friend:<br />
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<i>"Aren't y'all looking for a maltipoo?"</i><br />
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At first, I was confused and not even sure what she was talking about. Then, I realized that she was talking about a dog. I was like, <i>"Oh! Um, no, we are actually looking for a goldendoodle because we need a hypoallergenic dog."</i><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Just a little background info on our family: You may know we used to have two cats, Cappi and Frappie--Cappucino and Frappucino--and a beagle, Annabelle....yes, I realize that's quite similar to one of our daughter's name, but the dog came with that name! LOL If you think our family is sick now, you should have known us when we had all of those animals that shed hair everywhere back then. We loved them to pieces, but we were seriously sick ALL of the time. We realized if we were ever going to be pet owners again, we would need a hypoallergenic dog, but we probably wouldn't be able to afford one. So starting last Christmas, I began to pray that if we were supposed to add a dog to our family, that someone would contact us saying that they had a puppy that they were needing a home for that would be good for a lot of children to love on. In my mind, it was a goldendoodle, because that was the only dog I really knew of that was hypoallergenic. Plus, they're ADORABLE! However, they also get kind of big, and our house is already pretty jam-packed, and they are VERY expensive, hence us needing to find someone to need a home for one. </span></span></b><br />
<b><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-edHdxHSvd64/Whm4B4a_owI/AAAAAAAADGg/-cTLWzCm4bgCZyuGIQcO2DoKyYNc6zXmwCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_8385.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-edHdxHSvd64/Whm4B4a_owI/AAAAAAAADGg/-cTLWzCm4bgCZyuGIQcO2DoKyYNc6zXmwCEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_8385.JPG" width="320" /></a></b><br />
Anyway, back to the original story. She texts me back and says, "Maltipoos are hypoallergenic!"<br />
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As you've probably gathered by now (and if you've followed our facebook page with our "Maxx the maltipoo" album"), we are now the very proud owners of an incredibly precious 16 pound puppy dog that we are absolutely in love with! And, yes, the original owners actually named him after, you guessed it, the dog from the movie, <i>The Secret Life of Pets</i>! It's just yet another example of how God hears our prayers and never ceases to to answer them in the way HE sees best. I think of how I originally had prayed for a goldendoodle and how that would have actually been a horrible fit for our family considering the size that they get! God knew our family needed something different, and He provided in the perfect timing and in the perfect way.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-juG_nNUiUEg/Whm4CFH0GPI/AAAAAAAADGg/akV222fjlXwd_rRfPh0gFg7l2pzZ4NehACEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_8386.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-juG_nNUiUEg/Whm4CFH0GPI/AAAAAAAADGg/akV222fjlXwd_rRfPh0gFg7l2pzZ4NehACEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_8386.JPG" width="320" /></a>I think the reason that yesterday's timehop status really pricked at my heart so deeply is that on the particular day that it popped up, I was really struggling with a request that didn't get answered the way that I had hoped that it would. I found myself struggling with God, once again, with how His response could possibly be what it ended up being. I, too, had gone before Him faithfully, day after day, asking Him to work a miracle. But as a dear pastor once gently told me, sometimes God tells us yes and we praise Him, but sometimes God tells us no and He asks us if we will still praise Him. How grateful I am when I am able to lift my hands up easily in praise, but oh how I pray I can be gracious when God asks me to lift my hands to Him in broken praise. It's in the times of broken praise that we often get to experience how God transforms the beauty from ashes, the dry bones into life, and the broken glass into a beautiful mosaic. To cling to the pain only hurts us, but to lift up and let it go not only frees us, but it allows God to move, and when God moves, something amazing always transpires.<br />
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As we enter into a time of year that can be filled with both wonderful and painful memories, I pray that we can all lift our hands up in praise to the One who is worthy to be celebrated and adored during this Holiday season. Rest assured, He always hears us, He always answers, and He is ever on the move.Paula-Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760205491923422878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8482996357959707989.post-69037328885404982772017-11-16T09:39:00.000-08:002017-11-16T09:39:06.440-08:00Your Ways are Higher...There are a couple of ways that the Lord really allows me to pour my heart out. One is through blogging. I often stumble over my words when I try to speak, and feel like I am easily misunderstood, but when I write I can think through what I'm trying to say, and hopefully I come across more clearly and as I intend. If you really want to cut my heart open and see what's inside though, (although that sounds a bit graphic, doesn't it?) probably the best way to do so is to listen to me play the piano. I think that's one reason that all of these issues with my hands and the numbness and pain has been so difficult for me not just physically, but also emotionally because the unknown of how it will effect my playing has weighed heavily on me. I found myself sitting before the Lord with my fists clenched rather tightly looking up at Him with tears in my eyes, knowing that what He was asking me was a very simple, yet very difficult question, "Are you willing to let go?" Let go of what, you may be asking? Well, basically let go of my love for playing, my ability to express myself, my joy in being able to express myself so freely and creatively in worship to my Heavenly Father. Why would He possibly want to take something so good away from me? But the real question He was asking me was much simpler. What He wanted to know was this: "Would I trust Him?" And so I unclenched my fists. I opened up my hands. I laid my desires, my plans, my dreams, my ideas, and my passions at His feet, and I said, "OK God. You gave this to me, so I know you know the best thing to do with it. If that means you need to take it away from me, then I know that means You have something better for me, so yes, I WILL choose to trust You, no matter how painful it is. Help me."<br />
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I'd love to say I've gotten to experience miraculous healing from my issues, but I think maybe what I've seen instead has been much more beautiful: I've experienced grace through the journey. <br />
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My condition has basically stalled, so while it's not getting any better, it's not getting any worse. I'm still able to play, but I just experience some challenges that I didn't face before, and it's caused me to rely on the Lord in a new way, and that's a beautiful thing.<br />
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I am reminded each day to hold all things loosely (and sometimes I physically just HAVE to!) I never know if I will wake up and my hands will be number than they were the day before. The cause is basically unknown, so there isn't a way as of yet to be able to fix it. I continue to be faced with the question, "Will I trust You, Lord?" And in the mean time, I find myself sitting at the piano and just pouring my heart out in song as much as I possibly can, mostly putting Scripture to music. This week in particular, the Lord gave me a very special song that I found a bit interesting until something came up in my timehop today...<br />
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Five years ago today, we had our final home visit with our caseworker from <a href="http://christianhomes.com/" target="_blank">CHFS</a> before Gabriel's adoption would be finalized. And here I was today, dropping my son off at Kindergarten for his Thanksgiving feast at school, and then coming home to get the house cleaned up to prepare for our home group to come over tonight to celebrate Thanksgiving together, too. My son's birthmother made the most unselfish decision anyone could ever choose to ensure that this precious child could have a life filled with all she hoped for him, and I do not take that lightly at all. As we drove to school today and I prayed over the kids, we prayed for Rachel, and I thanked God for her choosing us as Gabriel's family, and I continually thank the Lord for paving the path to place Gabriel into our lives.<br />
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I think all of this must have somehow been in the back of my mind as the Lord laid this song on my heart yesterday, because the song I wrote was about our infertility journey, which is what the Lord used to open our hearts to adoption. Adoption was not our "plan B," or our "second choice," but God used our inability to conceive to make our hearts open to what He had designed for the course for our family all along. I'm so grateful that He is ever patient with us. He truly writes the best stories, and ours is filled with chapter after chapter that I could never have come up with had I been holding the pen!<br />
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WIzzqClBPY0" target="_blank">I share this song </a>with y'all today because I know so many of you have struggled or are struggling with infertility, too. My heart hurts for you, my friends. I don't pretend to know what you're feeling by any means, but please just know that I do not take your pain lightly at all. I know my story is not yours, but oh how I look forward to hearing how God makes beauty from the ashes in your lives! Paula-Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760205491923422878noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8482996357959707989.post-41459664038337584262017-11-05T17:41:00.004-08:002017-11-05T17:41:53.779-08:00Halloween 2017: Our Circus<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vGZB_k2F-gU/Wf-2z2-cpJI/AAAAAAAADEs/ofS67TNUYcs0tQQjj5FAX_vGP51bkd0mQCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_8052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="528" data-original-width="640" height="264" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vGZB_k2F-gU/Wf-2z2-cpJI/AAAAAAAADEs/ofS67TNUYcs0tQQjj5FAX_vGP51bkd0mQCEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_8052.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div>
Have you ever heard the phrase, "Not my circus, not my monkeys"? Basically, you use it when referring to situations you don't need to take ownership of. Soon after our family began to increase in number, though, I realized that the opposite was the case for us! This WAS my circus, and these were definitely MY monkeys! Our life is a constant source of laughter, suspense, thrills and probably some stinky smells wafting through the air from some unknown source! LOL! So, when DH came up with the idea that our family present itself as the greatest show on earth at our church's trunk or treat, I hopped right onto the circus wagon with <br />
him. <br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tCSnYbWQ2TM/Wf-2wxGu6qI/AAAAAAAADEQ/V-Exb5gP5AQ7T82wDk34NwmuR_zP-wkKQCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_8044.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tCSnYbWQ2TM/Wf-2wxGu6qI/AAAAAAAADEQ/V-Exb5gP5AQ7T82wDk34NwmuR_zP-wkKQCEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_8044.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
You may well remember my April-watching days earlier this year. Lucy's bestie had decided she wanted to dress up as April the giraffe for Halloween, so Lucy decided she wanted to be April's baby giraffe, Tajiri, which fit in perfectly with our circus family plan. However, figuring out to make a boy giraffe costume wasn't super easy since everything on pinteres seemed to involve a tutu of some sort. I just kept thinking something would come to us eventually though...<br />
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pOUPMnoZRps/Wf-2ty0xLXI/AAAAAAAADEw/i7-UzVgafIsFhjVngxf8A3EhWko2z6N-QCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_8001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pOUPMnoZRps/Wf-2ty0xLXI/AAAAAAAADEw/i7-UzVgafIsFhjVngxf8A3EhWko2z6N-QCEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_8001.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Lf60BpH8RQw/Wf-2tjbmmJI/AAAAAAAADEw/GMHEWcKABv4GFWgYZPCSfonlyenT1p0vQCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_7993.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Lf60BpH8RQw/Wf-2tjbmmJI/AAAAAAAADEw/GMHEWcKABv4GFWgYZPCSfonlyenT1p0vQCEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_7993.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pOUPMnoZRps/Wf-2ty0xLXI/AAAAAAAADEw/i7-UzVgafIsFhjVngxf8A3EhWko2z6N-QCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_8001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>Annie Beth was set on being Peppa Pig for the second year in a row (I think she wanted to follow in her Daddy's footsteps. He was Indiana Jones for I'm not sure how many years in a row as a child!), but then she got the idea of being a pink kitty cat, so we went with that instead. We found a cute little accessory set on Amazon and it turned out to be the most precious thing ever...especially since it had BELLS on it, which we had no idea about until we got it in the mail! Literally, she jingled every time she moved, which was just too cute for words! This was our first time trying out little piggie tails on her hair (paying respect to not being peppa pig this year, I suppose;-) I wasn't sure if she'd really want to keep her paws on or not, but she seemed to really like them and kept them on for the most part. It really was an adorable costume! She got to wear it to preschool for the day and parade around in it that morning for their costume parade--so cute!<br />
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TH6iV55oUZQ/Wf-2vCQ_MWI/AAAAAAAADEw/Bl43TrPlDdkcTYLYm6X0yUhO84-x7gUlgCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_8026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TH6iV55oUZQ/Wf-2vCQ_MWI/AAAAAAAADEw/Bl43TrPlDdkcTYLYm6X0yUhO84-x7gUlgCEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_8026.JPG" width="240" /></a>Gabriel also had a last-minute costume change from Batman to a puppy dog. I think once he saw everyone else's animal costumes coming in, he realized it would be fun to join in on the Toller Circus idea, too. (Although we always support the idea of "Always be yourself, unless you can be Batman, and then ALWAYS be Batman..." LOL:) Amazon, once again, came to the rescue, along with DH's awesome face painting skills. Seriously, who knew DH had such amazing face painting skills? Gabriel looked adorable and was the cutest little Dalmatian puppy EVER! One of his favorite Paw Patrol characters is Marshall, so he was excited that he got to look like him.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OqcRGtzyLiM/Wf-2yvfCzDI/AAAAAAAADEw/7GuxTBTcwbEyfFpWVX6u4CxwE4CSsKc6ACEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_8051.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="460" data-original-width="640" height="230" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OqcRGtzyLiM/Wf-2yvfCzDI/AAAAAAAADEw/7GuxTBTcwbEyfFpWVX6u4CxwE4CSsKc6ACEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_8051.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XIizDZpH3_8/Wf-2vfUq1HI/AAAAAAAADEw/Xak-acgPmg0YAbZVczjKR2efaQ0zht3HQCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_8027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XIizDZpH3_8/Wf-2vfUq1HI/AAAAAAAADEw/Xak-acgPmg0YAbZVczjKR2efaQ0zht3HQCEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_8027.JPG" width="240" /></a>Evangeline was able to fit into Gabriel's old sock monkey outfit which wasn't technically a costume, but definitely worked well for this purpose. She wouldn't keep the hat part on for most of the night, and she ended up taking a walk in the "duck pond" game so she didn't have any socks on most of the night, but she stole the show in her sock monkey ensemble! It really was the perfect costume for her, because I swear that child is trying to become a monkey! She is CONSTANTLY climbing anything and everything! We literally cannot take our eyes off of her for one second, because she just is so mischevious! She's super busy, but I think it's because she's super smart. She also really, really, really likes bananas ;-)<br />
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nFqvmYl5Yac/Wf-2xqKXitI/AAAAAAAADEw/aFwFJJKACT4nVOpPdL4r9a92jddNb26KACEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_8049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nFqvmYl5Yac/Wf-2xqKXitI/AAAAAAAADEw/aFwFJJKACT4nVOpPdL4r9a92jddNb26KACEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_8049.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></a><br />
Thanks to a sweet church friend's mom, DH and I were able to pull the Toller Circus together with the last piece to the costume puzzle with some awesome shirts with the saying mentioned at the beginning of my post: "This is my circus and these are my monkeys." The past few years I really had given up on trying to get everyone to dress up as a matching group, so it was fun to get to make it <br />
happen this year--totally not on my own accord though, but all thanks to DH's brilliant idea:)<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dp0liUxiAVM/Wf-2vm-JVkI/AAAAAAAADEw/Lj9VfkUTO7AANg3qHVBsLIhkzrp2ig1pACEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_8039%25281%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dp0liUxiAVM/Wf-2vm-JVkI/AAAAAAAADEw/Lj9VfkUTO7AANg3qHVBsLIhkzrp2ig1pACEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_8039%25281%2529.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
Back to the giraffe dilemma though...you'd think after all of my April watching days that I would be full of ideas on how to concoct the perfect Tajiri costume, but I was completely stumped. I did, however, come across one pin where someone had used masking tape on a t-shirt to section off giraffe type spots and then painted the shirt and then removed the tape. The problem: it was supposed to be cold and rainy on Halloween (it hasn't been since then here!) and I couldn't find a long sleeved yellow shirt anywhere, not to mentioned that brown leggings were absolutely NOWHERE to be found in our city! After spending a good 4 hours trying to locate some, I was about to check one more store when I "happened" to drive past a store that caught my eye who "just so happened" to have an entire rack of brown leggings sitting out for $1.99 along with ONE lone yellow sweatshirt that "just happened" to be in Lucy's size for $2.99. ((((WHAT??!)))) I smiled as I handed the cashier $5 and <br /><br />
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TkAGOVwz654/Wf-2xdOL_pI/AAAAAAAADEw/DIlfVccvA9o3eIy5u9vJTPkzJmRzl7VSQCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_8046.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TkAGOVwz654/Wf-2xdOL_pI/AAAAAAAADEw/DIlfVccvA9o3eIy5u9vJTPkzJmRzl7VSQCEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_8046.JPG" width="240" /></a>some change for the two items it would take to complete Lucy's costume. I know there's lots of debate on whether or not Christians should take part in Halloween or not, but regardless of that, the truth is that we serve a God who cares about every little detail of our lives. He's interested in everything that matters to us and is involved in all of it. He reminded me of that last week through a simple, affordable giraffe costume that brought the biggest smile to my little girl's face. You see, there's nothing we cannot bring to Jesus. Just as my favorite little boy's favorite show, Paw Patrol says, "No job is too big and no pup is too small," my Jesus wants to remind me that "No problem is too big and no request is too small..." And just like I could hear every single step Annie Beth took in her costume because of the bells on it, I can rest assured in the promise that my Jesus has walked ahead of every step that I am going to take, so I can trust Him fully to lead the way for me. I'm so glad that Jesus doesn't look at me and say "Nope. Not my circus; not my monkeys." Instead, he gathers us around the middle of the ring and invites us to join him for this thrilling adventure He wants us to join Him on! Just like I refuse to grow tired of chasing my little mischievous monkey around, my Jesus won't give up on me either. He loves me, He longs to meet with me and to guide me, and He has so many wonderful things in store for me if I will just wait and see!<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2lzQffCb-Xo/Wf-2yEgZ6AI/AAAAAAAADEw/sFBMBLpAh8I5c0SrpN5RXyzVYiANltfWACEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_8050.JPEG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="420" data-original-width="640" height="210" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2lzQffCb-Xo/Wf-2yEgZ6AI/AAAAAAAADEw/sFBMBLpAh8I5c0SrpN5RXyzVYiANltfWACEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_8050.JPEG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Paula-Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760205491923422878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8482996357959707989.post-80470830499131907252017-11-03T21:43:00.001-07:002017-11-03T21:45:38.125-07:00Lucy turns 10!<div style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><i>November 1st, 2017: </i></span></div>
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iZ5pP6zhfog/Wf1CSVU--WI/AAAAAAAADC0/lnmSRe15G9oxc3G_zr9hHEOwHhXjlmccQCLcBGAs/s1600/FullSizeRender%252818%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iZ5pP6zhfog/Wf1CSVU--WI/AAAAAAAADC0/lnmSRe15G9oxc3G_zr9hHEOwHhXjlmccQCLcBGAs/s320/FullSizeRender%252818%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><i> </i></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">This time ten years ago, we were gearing up for a LOOOOONG night. You see, the hospital had somehow left the regulator off my morphine pump after me being way behind on pain meds from being stuck in the OR for several hours because they left a sponge inside of me from my c-section with Lucy. I was so out of it, but Lucy was far from anywhere near closing her eyes...OR her mouth! LOL! That girl had some set of pipes on her! Poor DH was exhausted, so the nurse offered in the wee hours of the morning to take Lucy off our hands until it was time for her next feeding so that we could get some rest. </span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hBoJdK0g5UM/Wf1CScU9WuI/AAAAAAAADCw/kNxE_dQuh8wKRLvrN_b8nEH4SjWacUcNQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_7747.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="481" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hBoJdK0g5UM/Wf1CScU9WuI/AAAAAAAADCw/kNxE_dQuh8wKRLvrN_b8nEH4SjWacUcNQCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_7747.JPG" width="240" /></a><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Keep in mind I was a child of the 80's who grew up watching made for TV movies, such as "Switched at Birth," thus creating my biggest fear of child-bearing as being given the wrong baby at the hospital. However, when you're sky high on morphine, you're not exactly aware of what all is going on around you. You are, however, aware of what your baby looks like, and the baby they wheeled back into my room at 5AM was NOT my Lucy Shea!</span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-53h1kTOsgkk/Wf1CSTJBhJI/AAAAAAAADCs/5N0kQHeZw5Y8Ni5i-7rFaT2xnGXJFORVgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_7932.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-53h1kTOsgkk/Wf1CSTJBhJI/AAAAAAAADCs/5N0kQHeZw5Y8Ni5i-7rFaT2xnGXJFORVgCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_7932.JPG" width="240" /></a><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Yup. You guessed it. My fear became a reality. They totally brought me SOMEONE ELSE'S BABY...and they wanted to argue with us about it! Thankfully, ID bracelets don't lie (and neither did the precious face that was back in the nursery that looked exactly like her daddy!) and all was resolved, but I'll never forget that first night with my Lucy Shea--full of the unexpected, and yet also full of what I had worst expected. Basically, Lucy's first 24 hours of life was full of things completely out of my control. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">From the early stages of my pregnancy, the Lord had given me a phrase to live by that has echoed throughout mommyhood for me ever since: <i> </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><i>Live in faith and not fear.</i> </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">My Type-A personality wants to control every aspect of these precious lives I've been entrusted with, but that's not what God has designed for the life of this momma; He's simply called me to be the pointer, and not the clicker. </span></div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wcPdooaRGco/Wf1CS5TK_ZI/AAAAAAAADC4/QCJ-zE5zVAQFifKePCMIcSytjfWXyJSKACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_8039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wcPdooaRGco/Wf1CS5TK_ZI/AAAAAAAADC4/QCJ-zE5zVAQFifKePCMIcSytjfWXyJSKACLcBGAs/s320/IMG_8039.JPG" width="240" /></a><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Have you ever noticed how when you're trying to get a point across to your child, you tend to point your finger a certain way? I found myself chuckling at DH and myself the other night when Gabriel asked for a cupcake (after having chosen a donut first) for the fifth time. I looked over at DH, and not only were we both saying "No, honey, we already said 'no," but we both had our hands pointed in a certain way as we were trying to get our point across to him quite emphatically, since the previous four "no's obviously hadn't meant anything to him. We both laughed at each other and made a remark about about how we must think there's something magical about pointing our fingers when we speak to our children, thinking it's going to suddenly made something click with them. We so badly want to snap our fingers and POOF! They immediately obey! But God hasn't called us to make our children to do anything. He's simply called us to point them in the right direction, and it's up to THEM to choose which way they will go from there.</span><br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SxWDChU6K2s/Wf1CTv64n8I/AAAAAAAADDA/qVODDGs47No8U4nqtZ7rbizfdmLHuVRTgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_8075.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="336" data-original-width="448" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SxWDChU6K2s/Wf1CTv64n8I/AAAAAAAADDA/qVODDGs47No8U4nqtZ7rbizfdmLHuVRTgCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_8075.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: 12pt;">I don't think I will ever forget that fist moment I laid eyes on my Lucy Shea. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">I
was overcome with so much emotion and thankfulness that God had
entrusted such an amazing miracle to Michael Toller and me. She was an
answer to a long-awaited prayer. She was a miracle that we didn't think
we'd be able to have but that God knew would be the start to some mighty
big branches! He also knew that she would be a continual source He would use to draw me close to Him to teach me more and more about Who He is as a loving Father, and who I am to be as an obedient child and follower of His.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GdKG3uFBn2I/Wf1CUElAPpI/AAAAAAAADDE/to8bTanb6eMYoyKhHz85GmahexXY2GbSQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_8076.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="385" data-original-width="336" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GdKG3uFBn2I/Wf1CUElAPpI/AAAAAAAADDE/to8bTanb6eMYoyKhHz85GmahexXY2GbSQCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_8076.JPG" width="279" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">It
seems fitting that here we are, exactly ten years later, closing in on
midnight, and Lucy is still fighting sleep:( Never wanting to miss out
on a moment of life, she's a child eager to face every day, every
moment, and every situation. She continues to beam light everywhere she
goes, living up to her precious name which her Pappy was adamant he
would call her by whether we ended up choosing it as her name or not. (He made that quite clear, so after my daddy passed away, we knew that her name definitely would be Lucy.) I so often find myself wishing that he could have met her, because if anyone could have melted his
heart, it would have been Lucy. But who am I to question God's ways and His timing? Again, I am not the clicker, but the pointer, and I am not responsible for the response of others, but oh how my heart breaks when I can't see the response that my heart so longs to see and that my soul cries out to my Heavenly Father for. Yet still I will trust in who He says He is, and who He has made me to be in Him and is continuing to make me to be for my good and His glory...</span></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eHiApJceaeA/Wf1CVXy3QoI/AAAAAAAADDI/2jZ05bAUeDYVlyoa2XWc5Q9Gk6Hl9O6fgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_8077.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="448" data-original-width="336" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eHiApJceaeA/Wf1CVXy3QoI/AAAAAAAADDI/2jZ05bAUeDYVlyoa2XWc5Q9Gk6Hl9O6fgCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_8077.JPG" width="240" /></a><span style="font-size: 12pt;">...</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">I really can't believe my baby girl is a whole decade old! We've gone from being days old, to being weeks old, to being months old, to being years old, and now to being two digits old! I know there have been so many things I've not done right along the way, but my heart longs for her to know Jesus and to love Him and serve Him, and my prayer is that will overshadow all of the mistakes and shine through above all else.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><i>Lucy Shea, you are truly a bringer of light and such a special little young lady! You are a unique and extraordinary little girl who I am confident God has BIG plans for! You have given me such tremendous joy these past 10 years and 9 months of your beautiful and amazing life, and I am beyond grateful that I get to guide you through your childhood! I love you more than words could ever express! Happy 10th Birthday!</i></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2+8=10!:-)</td></tr>
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Paula-Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760205491923422878noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8482996357959707989.post-83853821208721102962017-10-14T09:26:00.001-07:002017-10-14T09:26:50.610-07:00This is the Way, Walk in it...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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One of my very favorite ways to relax and pamper myself is to get a pedicure. I've been obsessed with painting my nails since I was around 12 or 13 years old. In fact, I used to paint them every day to match each day's out. I guess I've always found different ways to use color to express my creativity (now I just dye my hair and wear really bright colored clothes!;-) With four kids, I don't really have the time mess with my nails near as much as I used to or as I'd like to. You may well remember posts from the early days of this blog where I have photos of me painting my nails in preparation of big events, such as getting ready for our meeting Gabriel's birthmother, preparing for our sonograms and arrivals of babies, etc. Any time a big event happens, I like to have my nails done! It makes me feel more confident going into a stressful or exciting situation. Likewise, NOT having them done makes me feel like a HOT MESS. It's fine if they're just unpainted, but when the paint is flaking off, or the jamberrys are peeling off, or just a few are remaining, you know that I've had other pressing matters to attend to. And honestly, lets be real here: my nails do NOT need to be a priority most of the time!<br />
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Hl0Qcvgzkv8/WeI3KgvWBjI/AAAAAAAADCQ/jEdZ0adUhzQkfRDHVtVXtj9b9DG52RHyQCLcBGAs/s1600/FullSizeRender%252817%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="200" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Hl0Qcvgzkv8/WeI3KgvWBjI/AAAAAAAADCQ/jEdZ0adUhzQkfRDHVtVXtj9b9DG52RHyQCLcBGAs/s200/FullSizeRender%252817%2529.jpg" width="150" /></a><br />
At any rate, I do occasionally allow myself a moment to relax and get my toes pampered with a pedicure. I've been putting it off for a couple of months now though. I've tried painting them myself, but they still look SO sad, and being a flip flop girl, the whole world can clearly see that my toes have been sadly unattended lately. In the grand scheme of things, it shouldn't matter so much, except I keep thinking of this pastor we once had who said he could judge people by the type of shoes they wore. He never said what he thought about people who wore flip flops, but that is enough to make me self conscious about my exposed, chipped-polished toes. I wonder what people think when they see my "tattle teal" polish flaking off in various places of my dried, cracked feet? (I realize most people don't think a thing of it, but just go with it for a second, OK?) I've literally found myself almost running out the door several times the past month to get a pedicure, but the Lord has literally whispered in my ear,<br />
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<i>"No, P-B. Not yet." </i><br />
<i>Really, God? Why? </i><br />
<i>"Just not yet." </i><br />
<i>Ok, God...</i><br />
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So this week was kind of a crazy one.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FDA3KGqhgMA/WeI0InZ3dRI/AAAAAAAADCE/EbmiwBnaBo4XYre_RXRdN0NpZsQqaXHjgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_6477.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FDA3KGqhgMA/WeI0InZ3dRI/AAAAAAAADCE/EbmiwBnaBo4XYre_RXRdN0NpZsQqaXHjgCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_6477.jpeg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VojpSqAUCj8/WeIyugDnajI/AAAAAAAADBY/gVBa9b1-PgsL6kTOxtFMvAOZmmNn-_9uwCLcBGAs/s1600/FullSizeRender%252816%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="481" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VojpSqAUCj8/WeIyugDnajI/AAAAAAAADBY/gVBa9b1-PgsL6kTOxtFMvAOZmmNn-_9uwCLcBGAs/s320/FullSizeRender%252816%2529.jpg" width="240" /></a><i>Actually, I'm not sure why I bother to preface it as such. EVERY week in our household is a crazy one! I don't say that negatively, though. We have four amazing kiddos and they keep our lives full of all sorts of interesting antics, stories, and experiences. Lucy got glasses this week, Gabriel discovered he could breathe through a straw and sound like Darth Vader, Annie decided she wanted to be a cloud because "clouds don't poop," and Evangeline scaled her crib FIVE TIMES in the span of one nap time, finally ending said nap time asleep on the floor of the bedroom for a mere 20 minutes. (I accomplished nothing other than keeping an eye on the camera the entire "nap" time.)</i><br />
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Thursdays are typically my main cleaning day for the week, but with my escape artist in full swing, (the previous story is just a sampling of what my day looked like with Evangeline!) absolutely nothing was getting accomplished. I always pray with the kids when I drop them off at school, and in those prayers I ask the Lord to help me to use my time wisely for the day. That afternoon, my floors desperately needed to be mopped, but as I was going through the house Norwex-ing windows and mirrors and pulling out all sorts of "goodies" from within the depths of the couch cushions (holy COW, what was that GREEN glue-like substance on the inside wooden part of my couch?????!), I passed by my entryway chalkboard, which hadn't had a new verse placed on it since I first purchased it. Again, I felt God whisper to me: <br />
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<i>"And your ears shall hear a word behind you saying, 'This is the way, walk in it'." Isaiah 30:18</i><br />
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It's from a passage that has been popping up in multiple places before me for the past few weeks, and the Lord has even given me a melody to put the words to. I often find myself humming it all throughout the day. As I looked down at my dirty floors and then thought about the words of the verse, I felt the Lord say to me, <br />
<i><br />Paula-Beth, why do you keep looking down at all of the dust and the dirt? Why are you so concerned with where you've been? Don't you want to look UP and see where I want to TAKE you? Fix your eyes UPWARD today on ME!"</i><br />
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So I put down my cleaning items and grabbed my chalkboard markers. I wrote the passage on the chalkboard, and I left the floors un-mopped and kindly asked my homegroup friends to "not look down" when they came over that evening. And suddenly, it struck me why the Lord kept asking me to wait on getting that pedicure. He wanted to drive home that point that I was focused on the past and how it often chips away at us and leaves us feeling less than in the present. He wanted me to fix my gaze Heavenward so I could see the way that He is showing me to go. You see, God doesn't typically meet us in the neat and tidy. God often meets us in the midst of the messy and muddy, the broken and battered, the sticky tile and chipped polish...because His ways are Higher than ours, but He is not beneath meeting us exactly where we are at!Paula-Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760205491923422878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8482996357959707989.post-18079287544998211222017-09-29T06:24:00.001-07:002017-09-29T06:24:58.040-07:00I Choose to Trust...<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;">When my daddy passed away, it really shook my faith. Questions arose from within me that I never knew could exist. I questioned God's plan and His ways. I struggled with His answer to my pleas. How could that be His answer?</span><br />
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And so, again and again, I looked at the character of God. I had to ask myself if I truly believed who God says that He is--that He is loving, He is gracious, He is able, He is in control, and His ways are higher than mine...if I truly believed it, then I had to be okay with not always understanding His response, and instead, trusting that He hears me, He weeps with me, and He is a good God. </div>
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For the last two years, I've again wrestled down a road of unanswered questions. I deal with daily pain from issues that doctors just have not been able to figure out. As I left yet another specialist's office this week, I found myself feeling very heavy from another round of, "I have no idea what this is..." As I waited for our car, I saw multiple people entering and exiting the building. Many were accompanied by caregivers who assisted them in standing and sitting or pushed them through the doors in wheelchairs. I saw so many people who looked to be in a lot of physical pain. In a way, I felt guilty for feeling discouraged about my situation. Yes, I experience a lot of pain, but I'm still able to go about my daily life the majority of the time. I'm still able to play the piano, which is such a gift since I've lost some sensation in my fingers and experience a lot of pain in my hand--but, most of the time, I can still play. I felt Holy Spirit nudge me as I was feeling guilty for questioning my own circumstances, as if He were saying to me, "I want you to have some perspective, but I also want you to know that I see exactly where <b>you're</b> at, and I see <b>your</b> pain and <b>your</b> fears, and I'm still here."</div>
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I found myself at the verge of tears most of the day, wanting to shout out victory in Jesus, but feeling like I just couldn't pick myself off of the floor...and that's where Jesus met me. He reminded me that I can worship Him from the mountaintop, but I can also worship Him in valley. </div>
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So often, I think of true worship as us shouting God's glory from the rooftops, but God is just as glorified when we cry out to Him in our despair. Worship happens when we recognize Who God is. Many times, I find Him in the victory, but lately, I've been able to find Him when I'm kneeling down and He comes to meet me in the floor, as I cover His feet with my tears, and He covers me with His peace. </div>
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I'm not giving up, but I realized this week that I need to come to peace with the likely possibility that the doctors will not have an answer for me, which means that I will have to continue to live life dealing with these issues. They are going to try to treat the issues they can, and they are hopeful it will have a domino effect on alleviating other issues, but more than likely, these issues aren't going away. Just as my faith was shaken when my daddy passed away, I found myself saying, "but God, how is this Your answer? You are able to heal me, but why won't You?" And He lovingly spoke to my heart and said, "My ways are higher than yours. Trust me." </div>
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I think I often feel like if I trust God enough, I will see Him move the mountains and part the waters, and He certainly can do that and so much more! But who am I to choose how God will move? Who am I to limit Him to blessings as the world sees them? Do I trust Him enough to give AND to take away? Do I trust Him enough to be glorified in the mountains as much as He can be glorified in the valleys? Do I really trust Him? Or do I just really hope He can be trusted?</div>
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God gently reminded me this week that I don't need to have all the answers, but that He also doesn't rebuke all of my questions. My daddy-God is allowing me to crawl into His lap and weep. He is allowing me to experience the assurance of His presence, and He is allowing me to be reminded of Who He is. So I will choose to trust. I will choose to believe He is Who He says that He is. And I will choose to lift these broken hands in praise to Him. </div>
Paula-Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760205491923422878noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8482996357959707989.post-48135154261427812832017-09-25T06:52:00.000-07:002017-09-25T06:52:42.643-07:00Words of Life...<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F3Tb3zVBmQE/Wcj7OGOq_OI/AAAAAAAADAs/25mFgaN2eA0VMx-yLk0buX7I7IBgQ9e_QCLcBGAs/s1600/FullSizeRender-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="482" data-original-width="640" height="241" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F3Tb3zVBmQE/Wcj7OGOq_OI/AAAAAAAADAs/25mFgaN2eA0VMx-yLk0buX7I7IBgQ9e_QCLcBGAs/s320/FullSizeRender-3.jpg" width="320" /></a>I really love blogging.<br />
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(That's probably an unnecessary statement! ha!)<br />
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It's cathartic to me in many ways, and it's honestly been a way that I've chronicled so much of the parts of my life as a momma, from the days when we were struggling to conceive (who else remembers xanga?;-), to the adoption process, and now to this journey through motherhood. I feel like my spoken words are often so easily misunderstood, but my written words can be more thought out and, hopefully, clearer. <br />
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I also enjoy reading others' blogs and thoughts and keeping up with friends and family via facebook. Social media is a great tool in many ways, but as a lot of us have discovered, it can also be a breeding ground for overwhelming amounts of well-intentioned, yet condemning, information, tips, tutorials, and fear-filled advice.<br />
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For example, Saturday evening, I read an article about the danger of making slime, and then Sunday morning, I saw Lucy and her friend playing with slime that her friend had made. I kind of freaked out! I realize, in hindsight, this was pretty silly of me. Yes, we need to be aware of things and be careful and smart, but a few hours of playing with homemade goo probably isn't going to be harmful.<br />
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I later found myself at our church's coffee and donut bar (which, lets be honest, I often find myself at! Glazed chocolate donuts, anyone else?;-) and was chatting with the sweet ladies helping serve. One of these ladies shared with me how delightful Lucy was, and a funny story about how she had saved a specific donut for later for her so she could come back and ask for it when she was ready for it. In passing, I made the remark of how Lucy was my helicopter child, and I probably need to cool it on how I have a tendency to hover.<br />
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Y'all, I hadn't even heard of the term "helicopter parenting" until, you guessed it, a facebook article that popped up on my feed in the past year or so. I realized, after reading it, how I definitely have this tendency to hover over her, and I have since then focused on all of the negativeness associated with doing so.<br />
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But this sweet, precious sister in Christ looked me in the eye and said something along the lines of this: "Well, it's obviously working well for her, because she's a delightful child."<br />
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Her words made it feel as if the room just stopped for a moment; I was totally taken aback by what she said. There was no condemnation, no "you've got to learn to let go," and no "I'll pray for you to trust Jesus more with your children." She simply gave me the sweetest affirmation that I was doing a good job parenting my child in the best way I knew how.<br />
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Later that day, I received another message from a sweet friend with an encouraging message on soldiering through life's current difficulties in my various roles. <br />
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That evening, I met up with some friends. I was in a "comfy" mood and threw on an old Beatles shirt with some elastic waistband shorts. My friend commented on how cute I looked. I responded with comments on my post baby belly pooching out and looking slouchy. She looked me in the eye and stopped me right there.<br />
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Fast forward to this morning. I received a replay to an Email I sent to Gabriel's teacher last night regarding this week's lesson plans. (We are doing part-time homeschooling, so we do work at home two days a week and they do work in the classroom at their school two days a week.) After reading her response, I realized one of the answers was literally RIGHT in front of me, and the other was on the back side of the paper, which I didn't realize was printed on, too. They were pretty silly oversights on my part, and I found myself dealing with all sorts of negative self-talk this morning. "How could you have missed something so simple?" "Why did you waste that teacher's time with questions you should have been able to answer yourself?" "Is homeschooling really the best idea for your family? You obviously can't even handle a simple lesson plan for a kindergartner." And on and on it went, until, like my dear friend yesterday did, I stopped myself.<br />
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The Enemy can't take my ultimate victory from me (my salvation), but he sure does want to make me feel completely defeated in this earthly life, and it's so easy to listen to the lies--lies I tell myself, lies I believe from things I read, perhaps with well-intentioned advice, and lies from a world who does not know of my Jesus' grace. And as I chose to stop listening to the Enemy's lies, my Heavenly Daddy reminded me of the words of Truth He had spoken to me through those three precious women yesterday. Their words were not meant to promote myself. No, their words were used as messages of God's Truth: <b>God</b> is helping me be the mommy to my kids that He wants me to be; <b>God</b> is giving me the strength to persevere through the difficulties I'm currently facing with my health; <b>God</b> says I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Their affirmation touched me so deeply, not to promote myself, but to remind me that God is within me, and I am so much more than this world says that I am because of that profound Truth!<br />
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I pray that the words that come out of my mouth to those around me can be life-giving words that affirm God's presence in our lives.<br />
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<i>"Blessed is the man who listens to me, watching daily at my doors, waiting at my doorway. For whoever finds me finds life and receives favor from the Lord..." Proverbs 8:34-35a</i>Paula-Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760205491923422878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8482996357959707989.post-86534172324553608092017-09-20T22:12:00.000-07:002017-09-20T22:14:29.489-07:00Who's the Boss?<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;">Some days just don't go as you plan. </span><br />
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...(Ok, I'll be honest and say that MOST days don't go as I plan!)</div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_7xgtxiTIHk/WcNKgipZRII/AAAAAAAAC_0/s1lNMObql5UtKUguk4LylmWsSPFYHCCyACLcBGAs/s1600/21742956_10103176953781255_5574669495909024764_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_7xgtxiTIHk/WcNKgipZRII/AAAAAAAAC_0/s1lNMObql5UtKUguk4LylmWsSPFYHCCyACLcBGAs/s320/21742956_10103176953781255_5574669495909024764_n.jpg" width="240" /></a>For a Type A personality, that's rough! I make lists, whether physically or just mentally, of what "needs" to happen every day, and when I think it needs to happen, so when something happens that isn't on the checklist, it can really throw me for a loop. </div>
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As you've probably guessed, today was one of those days where things just did not go as planned. Homeschooling was met with many struggles, my tiniest T is still sick with an upper respiratory virus of some sort, some appointments got changed (which is good, but led to rushing around trying to get needed forms gathered sooner), my kids misbehaved all through tonight's rehearsal, etc. It's not really that anything earth shattering happened, (and some really great things happened today, too, like a sweet friend bringing me my first PSL of the season and helping me with my kids, and another friend bringing me an assortment of gourmet pickles, and an impromptu lunch outing), but it was just a day full of LIFE happening, and today, it left me drained in the parenting department. I felt like a broken record all day long, just totally unable to get through to my precious Lucy. Before leaving for church, I looked her straight in the eyes and said, "I know you want to feel in control of things, because your life has experienced a lot of out of control things, so there's a need to keep things stable. But you've got to remember that you aren't in control. Who's in control?"</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MK1tT_J525s/WcNHYgF6OcI/AAAAAAAAC_U/udnSjQw__oYA-em6OXxYT5nqMT5hB3FSACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_6988.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MK1tT_J525s/WcNHYgF6OcI/AAAAAAAAC_U/udnSjQw__oYA-em6OXxYT5nqMT5hB3FSACLcBGAs/s320/IMG_6988.JPG" width="240" /></a>Her big, blue eyes looked right back at me and said, "You are."</div>
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<i>ouch</i>. </div>
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I literally think I did a double take, because I honestly thought it was a rhetorical question. </div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_RmjArR41ow/WcNHYlW3qgI/AAAAAAAAC_Y/3wefN74nSnM-UZ9Iu4qyQBRS985UV4mRQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_6898.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="481" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_RmjArR41ow/WcNHYlW3qgI/AAAAAAAAC_Y/3wefN74nSnM-UZ9Iu4qyQBRS985UV4mRQCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_6898.JPG" width="240" /></a><i>"No no no, honey! Not me! GOD is in control, and <b>He's</b> placed me over you to draw you closer to <b>Him</b>. Every single thing I do and say to you, is to help you draw closer to Jesus. I fail at that a LOT, but I need you to know that that's the goal: I want you to love Jesus, so that's why I get on to you and don't let you get away with certain things. I just want you to draw close to Jesus."</i></div>
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I'm not sure it fully clicked with her, but I think, more than anything else, it was really the Lord speaking through me to remind me of the important calling He's given me. Perhaps my trying so hard to control my daily schedule has come off looking to my kids like I am the one who's taking control, when in reality, no matter how hard I try to maintain control, it is ALWAYS Jesus, and I have the ability to choose whether I will recognize Him or not. </div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_iVM6vf9LeI/WcNHYvRcT6I/AAAAAAAAC_c/M5ZunCTtKWwkwPdhAMITYwQ6oQXz-WDoQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_7188.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_iVM6vf9LeI/WcNHYvRcT6I/AAAAAAAAC_c/M5ZunCTtKWwkwPdhAMITYwQ6oQXz-WDoQCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_7188.JPG" width="240" /></a>A video popped up in my Timehop yesterday of Annie last year. She had this game she liked to play with us called "Who's the boss?" She would play-cry when we told her that Daddy or Mommy was the boss, and then she'd giggle and smile if we told her that she was the boss. Even 2 year olds like to feel like they have control...</div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rEnbgOWB5jk/WcNJXqANwNI/AAAAAAAAC_o/HAld0UuUVdYygJlxEdFRFPwqYTOa_83NQCLcBGAs/s1600/21740072_10103183661708515_8287353440603167708_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rEnbgOWB5jk/WcNJXqANwNI/AAAAAAAAC_o/HAld0UuUVdYygJlxEdFRFPwqYTOa_83NQCLcBGAs/s320/21740072_10103183661708515_8287353440603167708_n.jpg" width="240" /></a>I am truly so grateful for my chaotic life. It is full of love, laughter, beauty from ashes, grace...I have an amazing husband who cherishes me, four incredible miracle babies who love me, a church family that allows me to serve, opportunities to use the gifts God has given me...but when I take a step back and peek in on all of it, I realize that somewhere inside of me is a little two year old that's throwing a fit when I'm not told that I'm the boss...and that's where Grace steps in, and oh how I need His grace! It is greater than my need to control, it is greater than my poor responses, it is greater than my struggle to forgive those who have wronged me, it is greater than my kids' disobedience...It is greater, and It is enough. So on a day when I feel like I've just had enough of the battle, my Jesus reminds me that He's still on the throne, and His grace is enough to cover it all.</div>
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After all, He's the boss!</div>
Paula-Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760205491923422878noreply@blogger.com0