Four Words

faith

fāTH/

noun

1. 1.

   complete trust or confidence in someone or something.
2. 2.

   strong belief in God or in the doctrines of a religion, based on spiritual apprehension rather than proof.
3. 
   

hope

hōp/

noun

1. 1.

   a feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen.

   • 
     
   • 
     

     
     
2. 2.

   archaic

   a feeling of trust.

verb

1. 1.

   want something to happen or be the case.

joy

joi/

noun

1. 1.

   a feeling of great pleasure and happiness.

   • 
     

verb

literary

1. 1.

   rejoice.

re·demp·tion

rəˈdem(p)SH(ə)n/

noun

1. 1.

   the action of saving or being saved from sin, error, or evil.

   
   

   "God's plans for the redemption of his world"

   
   

   • 
     
2. 2.

   the action of regaining or gaining possession of something in exchange for payment, or clearing a debt.

Faith.  Hope.  Joy.  Redemption.  

These are words of the present and words of the future.  If I did not have faith, hope, joy and redemption I believe that I would be an absolute mess.  I am not sure if I would have been able to recover from the losses this year started with.  

  

Motto of the Year

Two years ago I had a "Year 27 motto." That motto read "Do not follow your dreams ... chase them!" And chase them I did.

I wanted a year 28 motto and I tried "no excuses" but that I did not follow through with.  Ironic, right?

Today, a new year begins.  And what will it hold?  Year 28 held marriage, the first year of the social work program at school, closing my foster care license, two miscarriages, and additionally lots of love, laughter, and joy alongside of the hardships and sorrows.

Year 29.  Year 29 will most likely involve relicensure in foster care as I do not anticipate any setbacks.  As for a motto, I have not put much thought into it.  I have thought about it, but nothing real profound has stood out to me quite yet. 

I want year 29 to be a year of motherhood.  And I am believing that that will happen.  Foster Care.  Biological.  Pre-Adoption.  I am ready for whatever the Lord has planned and prepared for me.

Open.  Receiving.  Glory to Glory.  These are all things I want year 29 to reflect. 

The Legacy that Awaits

We just welcomed to our humble little abode a beautiful new dining room table.  It was not in the plan to purchase a new table, but yet here we are. 

When we bought the table, my heart swelled with joy and excitement and anticipation of the conversations, meals, laughter and fellowship that would be taking place with friends and family gathered in the years to come.

The table we had before we bought ours belonged to a friend's grandmother.  The short while we had it, I was excited to continue to build a legacy of love around it.  It was not perfect, it was not our first choice, but it was well loved and had a story. 

When that table was returned to its family of origin, I began to get all sentimental about owning our own table and the legacy that we would build .... not about the table being a legacy, but the table would be the center in which was gathered around for stories of love, conversations of grace and correction, tears of laughter, joy and sorrow. 

Everything in my home is a launchpad for Kingdom work.  Far too often I forget that. 

From the cribs, glider and changing pad in my nursery, to the couch, coffee table and bookshelf in my living room.  May they all serve as a beautiful reminder that God has something greater in store and that everything I own is only on temporary loan to me.

God has provided a way for me and my husband to own what we have furnished our house with; the least we can do is use it for His greater glory.

So come on by.  Pull up a chair.  Relax on the couch.  Let's share a conversation.  My home is your home.

Grace in the Waiting

Waiting.  It requires a great amount of patience.  Patience.  Something that I long to have an abundance of but that I often find I am lacking when I want something so bad.

Time.  It feels like I am running out of time to grow my family as I want to.  This season of life is not at all something I envisioned I would be experiencing in my first year of marriage.

And it sucks.  The past six/seven months have been the most awful emotional roller coaster I have been on.  From the excitement to finding out we were pregnant to quickly realizing that we were losing the baby, to being pregnant again and having apprehension yet excitement to learning that that baby, too, was in heaven.  Surgery, infection, no answers, learning that our baby, Nolan, was a girl. 

My heart is broken.  Perhaps it is the hormones of another month that has come and gone with no baby yet again. 

I press into God yet it hurts, still. 

My husband is my constant.  My rock.  My reminder to press into God because when that day comes when we hold a child that is ours, the joy will be unrelenting. 

I struggle to fully embrace that a day like that exists.  It is hard to see past today. 

While I read stories of redemption, my heart struggles to wrap around the hope yet to come.   My mind believes it yet my heart is hesitant. 

We pursue foster care but will that, can that, fill the void in my heart to have a baby to call my own?

I pray that I look back on this season of life and I can see the realness and rawness that I felt.  But I pray that I see that God was ever present in all of the pain and through all of the tears.  It feels so awfully lonely to walk this journey.  It has been so hard to allow people into the pain. 

I had so much hope that this was our month to be pregnant.  And the fact that I am not feels extra heavy today.  It is hard to write that somewhere else other than my personal journal.  It is hard to admit that some days I am not okay; and that it is okay to not be okay in those moments. 

Thankfully the good days outweigh the challenging days.  I can find joy in the small things and the large things.  And I have hope and trust in the Lord that while right now, this very minute, sucks, this is not the end.  This is not how I was meant to live.  And I will press into God and find healing through the tears.   

Getting Answers and Pressing On

I have a follow up appointment with my OB next week.  Pathology is running tests to see if we could possibly find answers as to what happened to our baby.  Maybe we will receive answers pointing to why we have had two recurrent miscarriages.  There are thoughts that maybe it was chromosomal in which we would receive some insight; but that would ultimately just mean that it was a fluke and that there was no way to prevent it or avoid it in the future.

At this point, I have no real longing to know what happened.  Knowing what happened to one baby and not the other breaks my heart.  I will accept answers, but I am not seeking them out on my own.

Losing my babies has been the hardest thing I have ever experienced, yet it has also been on the greatest things for my faith walk.  Being able to press into Jesus has brought me deeper than I have ever been.  Even looking back one month ago to where I am now amazes me.

The longing for a baby has not gone away.  We still wish to be parents.  We still wish to bring a child into this world that shares our DNA.  But it is not a sole focus for us.  It is not a be all end all.  We want a baby, but we also know we can be parents through other measures, such as foster care.

--

It has been one month since I stopped carrying my sweet child.  The emotions that the past month have held have been some of the deepest valleys I have traveled through to date.  The hormone crash, the uncertainty of my own body, still in limbo between maternity clothes and pre-maternity clothes.  The struggle is real.  The emotions have been raw.  But my God is good.  Pressing into God and trusting in Him to lead me on this journey.  It has not always been easy, and sometimes it is not even the first means I turn to.  But when I find that quiet place with Jesus ... I can sink into his presence and share the depths of my heart without fear of judgement or fear that I'll be misunderstood or say the wrong thing.  I can be real.  I can be raw.  I can share exactly what my heart feels and what my mind needs to say.  And I am loved!  I am met right where I am.  God sees me and knows my every tear.

--

Having a hope of being a foster mom has been extremely helpful in this healing journey.  Being able to have a focus external to us has been so good for me.  Knowing that I can honor my babies by turning our nursery into a home of hope and healing for other children who have experienced a hurting and broken world feels like the absolute best thing for this momma heart.

--

We will have our rainbow baby.  We will hold a child in our arms.  I pray that I will never have to experience another loss of losing my own child.  I have said goodbye to two foster children and two biological babies in the past 2 years.  Foster care will come with more goodbyes.  But those are happier goodbyes.  Those are not always a goodbye forever.   

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In this season we wait.  We hope.  We praise.  We continue to press on with daily life.  We continue to see God first.  We continue to love.

Nine Months Later: A Reflection on Marriage

It has been nine months since my husband and I exchanged our "I Do's" and pledged ourselves to each other in the good times and the bad, through sickness and in health, until death do us part. 

When we began preparing for marriage, there is no way we could have been prepared for what the last nine months have held for us.  I've often heard couples say that marriage is hard; and shortly after marriage, I am convinced that this is true, but that there is no way for one to understand what is meant, or to truly understand the reality of it, until one experiences marriage for themselves.  My husband and I poured over books, sought advice, and prayed together in the days, weeks and months leading up to our wedding.  Then I walked down the aisle and within thirty minutes, all of the time spent devoted to making this day a reality came together and we were Mr. and Mrs.  

Reflecting over the past nine months of marriage, we have had good times and bad times.  We have weathered many storms.  I wish I could say with confidence that the worst of the storms are behind us, but that would be too naive on my part.  There is certainly no certainty in what the future holds.  We are only beginning. 

What we have been through has made us stronger.  That is not to say that it has not shaken us.  We have committed our lives together and have promised that no matter what happens in life, we are on the same team; we need to fight for us and not against each other.  

We process things differently.  We look at what is going on in our lives differently.  We have opposing expectations at times.  We have learned through trial and error how to communicate and still we find ourselves lacking thorough communication at times.  

I had no expectations that we would have marriage figured out within our first year.  I have a mindset that I will be a life long learner with my husband -- perhaps that is one of those expectations in life that I need to make sure that I am communicating with my husband... I want to grow with him, explore with him, learn new things together with him.  

While marriage is harder than I ever could have imagined, marriage is also the best thing I have ever experienced as well.  I am married to my best friend.  We share our deepest secrets and hopes with each other.  We go on adventures together.  We rely on each other in the good times and the trying times.  We help each other grow into better people - not just as a husband and a wife, but also as a son, a daughter, a friend, an employee, and so much more! 

I cannot imagine my life being married to anyone else - I have no desire to even try.  While some days are harder than others, I know that at the end of the day, and every morning when I wake up ... my husband is by my side.  

Communication is key for us; when we fail to communicate our hopes, dreams, desires, or expectations, there are often times hurt feelings.  We have moments where our communication is amazing, and there are moments where we are still learning!  

Every day I choose my husband.  Every day my love for him increases.  God knew what he was doing when he brought the two of us together.  As Proverbs 27:17 reads, "As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another."  I see this at work in our marriage.  I see myself as a better, stronger, individual because of the relationship I have with my husband.  Being married to my husband is one of my greatest joys! 

Trust and Surrender: What's Next

The realization that had we not lost our babies, my relationship with God would not have gone as deep as it has.

At the advise of my wise mother in law, I purchased Alyssa Quilala's book Mending Tomorrow. Within 30 minutes of receiving the book I was immersed with the gold nuggets contained within.

Today's reading began with Psalm 112:7 -

"They will have no fear of bad news;
       their hearts are steadfast, trusting in the Lord."

It immediately took me back to May 11th -- that one day we were at the doctors office, I was laying on the table, holding my husbands hands when we heard, "there is no heartbeat."

--

As the tech and doctor put in orders for another scan and prepped another room, I held onto my husband and we began praying and praising.

--

The fact that we got called back to the room 30-45 minutes after our initial appointment time.  The fact that my doctor asked first thing if we wanted an early ultrasound (instead of using the Doppler to find a heartbeat).  The fact that although we got there late my doctor caught the ultrasound tech right as she was walking out the door.  Everything fell into place.  God was holding us all along.  I do not believe in coincidences.  I believe everything had been aligned for us for God's greater glory.  The fact that we did not have to try to find a heartbeat at the appointment and then have to live through the weekend for a scan the following week was a complete God-thing.  We rejoice in that!

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Finding joy and having hope in everyday comes easy at moments and feels impossible at other times.

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Knowing that if we never had lost June or Nolan, that my intimacy with God likely never would have reached this depth.  I miss my babies like crazy, but I cannot image my life without my relationship with God.

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Hope exists.  Hope that one day we will have a baby of our own to hold.  Yet not solely focusing on that.

There are children out there, desperate for a home, desperate for love.  My husband and I were planning on pursuing foster care licensure.  I had walked the journey of being a foster mom prior to getting married .. and here we are again considering embarking once again on this journey.  I have lost babies.  These children have lost a whole lot more -- their family, their home, the life they have known.  If my husband and I can enter into their broken hearts and be the middle momma and daddy that they need to heal, then please let us be that for them.

No rush.  It will take some time to get licensed.  It gives us something to hope for while our hearts heal.  I am not entirely sure what will happen, but the process is beginning.  We trust that God will guide us as we venture on this journey.

God did not take away my babies, but I pray that through their passing, they may be honored and that my faith is made stronger.

So here we stand. Surrendering.  Ready for the next step of the journey. 







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