captured: first big snow

We lost approximately a zillion hours of sleep because the excitement was just too much.

(after an hour of being in bed)
9:30pm MOM IT IS SNOWING COME LOOK

10pm MOM WE ARE LAYING ON THE FLOOR WAITING FOR THE SNOW. IS IT TIME YET?!

2am send kids back to bed, not time yet

3am send kids back to bed, not time yet

4am- oldest is officially up and there isn't much hope she will sleep from here on out

5am- middle child is officially up, parents pretend to be asleep, but really we are just postponing the inevitable

7am- MOM AND DAD GET UP! IT IS MORNING! COME SEE THE SNOW!

Lincoln lasted 4 minutes in the snow and thought it was awesome until he sat in it.
Naomi lasted 8 minutes and thought it was awesome until she took her gloves off and decided to touch it with her BARE hands.
Audrey wanted to stay out forever, but had to go inside with the rest of the crew.

And naturally we had to have homemade hot chocolate with whipped cream and sprinkles.

So, a zillion hours of lost sleep was totally worth the less than 10 minutes in the snow.

 Because this, this is childhood.

sugarplum fairies. {right now}

Brother is napping, I'm making broccoli and cheddar soup, and this is my view…

the sweetest sugarplum fairies (as they call themselves) that I ever did see. ..

And for a moment, all is well in the world. 

{Pssssss. That outfit Audrey has on was mine when I was a little girl.}

halloween.

I'm a bit late posting about our trick or treating, but I couldn't resist sharing the adorable kiddos.

Wendy dresses made by their Gamma (Andrew's mom) and I made the hat for the Peter Pan costume--about 5 minutes before we walked out the door. 

Cousins! Spider-man and an 80s work out girl! 

Lincoln was the cutest to watch, he caught on real fast. And wanted out of that wagon as soon as we approached a house and had his bag out and ready to collect. 

We are so thankful for our neighborhood, a safe and fun place to go. The neighborhood gets together and throws a pitch in dinner too ---which is a great way to say hello to those around us. I'm not a fan of the scary Halloween, but I love that it is holiday where kids can be kids and dress up using their imagination!

saying yes.

[Pouring out my heart, typing and letting it go.]

This morning I had the opportunity to share God's Story in our lives, how He carried and is carrying us through this journey with childhood cancer. I'm so thankful that God opens up these doors to share, because as much as I love sharing to encourage others of God's faithfulness, I am just as in need of the sweet reminder of God's sovereignty in my life. I want to say yes to Him. In everything I do.

In everything I do. 

I'm tired of mediocre. I'm tired of separating Him into a box.

He has no boundaries. It's not just a Sunday morning thing. Or a checklist.

And frankly, I'm tired of striving for comfort and safe.

I say these things not because I want some radical change in my life, but if that is what He wants. Then I want it too.

I feel this stirring in my heart, in my little family's lives. So I ask God to help my unbelief and use me for His glory.

If God can bring me a joy and peace in my scariest of times, what can He do if I give Him my everyday?

I am human and seek desires of my own heart every day and my mind is filled with thoughts of selfishness and bitterness and greed and as if I desire more than I have. But. But there is grace, and I welcome grace into my heart to cover my hearts selfish desires. After all, God gives grace freely. And I'm thankful for that.

So, I say yes. Yes to my great God that goes before me, and does immeasurably things.

The girls were leaving church one morning and said "this is how we praise Jesus, we lift our hands and dance!" Gosh, I have so much to learn from my children. And the picture of Lincoln, well, I just can't handle his cuteness in a tie. 

dear naomi. {you are three}

[I write a letter to my children every year on their birthday, or at least near their birthday. I began this tradition last year. You can read Naomi's second birthday letter here.]

My Dearest Naomi Fae,

It's 15 days past your third birthday and I've thought about this letter every day since. I write these letters on your birthday to reflect back on the year God has gifted you with, gifted me with. And this year, I think I just needed more time to acknowledge that you are three. That we are here. It doesn't seem that old, but to me, it feels like you have been with me since before time. In your three short years, you have a story God has so beautifully orchestrated, I can't wait to share glimpses of grace from this year as you grow. And although three is considered small, I see it as a big milestone. In fact, every day is a milestone, every day is a gift. Will you carry those words close to your heart? You are only three, but that's 1,095 gifts.

You grew this year in part feisty-ness and part sweet-ness. I truly love how God gave you both of these attributes, I think they will serve you well in years to come. Your feisty side often comes out before bed. In which you may leave your room no less than four times after we put you to bed. The other night, or I should say early morning at 3am,  I heard your bedroom door slam, I come into your room to find you and Audrey playing. You are always the first awake, but I think it's because you secretly love the extra snuggles you get with mama and daddy as we try to coax you back to sleep in our bed, but never works. Your independence comes out every time you get dressed. You don't like help, and you have been dressing yourself for a good year now. Which is quite helpful for me, until the occasional moment you come outside in a tank top and shorts and a dress over it with an umbrella and cowgirl boots in 45 degrees. Now, let me share your sweet side, because my oh my, your heart is so full of compassion. You my dear, are (almost) always so quick to share with your siblings. You are a beautiful reminder to me of  where to store my treasures--to not become attached to earthly things, but to store my treasures in heaven. This may not make total sense to you yet (or maybe it does, I never want to underestimate a child's faith, your faith has most certainly inspired mine), but I have a feeling you will continue to be a reminder to me of these verses from Matthew 6. Just a few days ago you asked for a plastic bag. And before I knew it, you had it completely full with toys (one of which was Audrey's, and you hollered at her to ask if it was okay) to give to other children that didn't have any. I love the deep joy you find in giving.

On your actual birthday, you got all fancy and we had a tea party inside at our local mall with our little family and then we visited a local chocolate shop.

You know what is one of my favorite things about you right now? Your little, adorable toddler voice. I love listening to you share your dreams right after you wake because I get to hear your voice go on and on. This morning you told me your dream was about Dorothy (from the Wizard of Oz) having a little lamb (like Mary had a little lamb). Girlfriend, you crack me up. You love to make up stories and then say "I'm just pe-tending mama" and then you giggle. Before nap and bedtime you always request for me to sing to you. And I love you for that, because, sweet honey, you may not realize it yet, but I don't have most pitch-perfect voice, yet, my voice is your comfort. I will never forget the moment I sang to you while you were recovering from your surgery this past May. You were so peaceful as I laid over you, just singing your favorite song Three Little Birds.

Don't worry, every little thing is gonna be alright. 

This is true. Everything is going to be okay, because God has a plan for you. So much bigger and better than I can ever imagine. And I trust in that plan. Do you know how deep my love is for you? Like crazy deep. Well, God's love for you is even deeper.

You never cease to amaze me, like the other day when you learned to write your name completely unassisted and without prompt. You love playing babies, doing puzzles, and changing 17 times a day. And your imagination blows me away. Just this evening I caught you and Audrey playing with a large black trash bag (I told you guys not to put it on your heads, but continued to let you play with it) and you put your body in it to pretend to be snails then you guys put your arms in it and pretended to be dragons. If I ever get rid of all your toys and give you trash bags for presents, you will know why. Toys are out, imagination is in.

Although I mention you and Audrey a lot, because you two are pretty much two peas in a pod, you have a special affection for your brother. You give him toys in the morning while he waits in his crib for mama or daddy to get him out. You always request a hug from him before he goes to bed and when he wakes. I love hearing you call his name through the house--with the L missing. "'incoln, come here! I have something for you!"

You are just right in our family. You were made to be Lincoln's older sister and Audrey's younger sister. You were made to be our daughter. And most certainly the daughter of our King.

I'm so thankful for you, Naomi. Cheers to three!

I love you to the moon and back.

XO- Your Mama

from the weekend.

Yesterday we spent the good part of the day at an orchard a few hours away to celebrate my niece turning one. We had the best weather, blue clear skies, not too hot and not too cold. The day included a hayride, apple picking, a corn maze, a playground, and of course, cake.

And for the first time in months, I took pictures with my DSLR. I admit, I became lazy with just using my phone camera. It's easy to take with me, I always have it, it's small enough to carry, and it has quick editing. But, I do miss pictures with my real camera after using it again. I love being behind the camera,  being able to truly capture moments in time. Time to start pursuing this passion more!

{fall is my favorite time}

This weekend also included hosting an outdoor movie night with over 60 people from our church (for the elementary kiddos). So thankful for the beautiful weather for this too!

There is nothing on the agenda for this Sunday afternoon, except enjoying just being together. My heart is filled with some much gratitude.

moments to put away in the time capsule.

I could share all the great things we've been doing lately--we had jam-packed, fun-filled days. But I want to go beyond the fun, and reflect on the true treasures, the little moments that make my heart skip a beat and say this, this is what life is all about.

On Friday Audrey was playing with a glass bird of mine that's a table decoration, that she knows she isn't suppose to play with. And oh hey, it breaks. I go into the room after I hear the shatter and I don't say a word. I just sit holding the broken pieces. And I sit. Audrey runs upstairs, I knew she felt bad for what she did, but I also knew she needed that alone time. A few minutes later she comes down.

"Mama, did you know I was upstairs?"

"Yes, dear, what were you doing?"

"I was sitting in the guest room asking God to forgive me."

"For breaking the bird?"

"Yeah."

"Honey, I'm so glad you felt it in your heart to ask for forgiveness. He forgives you and so do I. You are loved by God and by me so much. I wasn't sad that the bird broke, but I was sad for you disobeying me when I asked you not to play with it. But it's okay. I'm so thankful for forgiveness and we don't have to worry about it after we ask for others to forgive us."

Then she said she wanted to keep praying in the guest room. And she did. (I snuck in very quietly to snap a picture and to listen in.)

My prayer is that forgiveness and grace will be written on my children's hearts their whole life. It's so simple, yet we sometimes make it more than it has to be. I am forgiven. I am loved.

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Another sweet moment from the weekend--we watched some friend's kiddos tonight and while watching a movie, eating popcorn, Lincoln just kept going up to Naomi to kiss her. Over and over. With the kissing sound and all. It was too much.

My prayer is that my children will always remember that sharing affection can heal our hearts. Love is always the answer.
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Thursdays are the only days the kids aren't in school for half the day or have another commitment. I call it our play-day. And if it allows, we stay home and relish in the ability to do whatever we want. After a quick trip to Target to get my beloved fall candle (that I usually buy September first, but this year it took a few extra days), we decided it was a fort-building day with interrupted moments of dancing to worship music. I try to keep worship music playing in the background all day, because it keeps me grounded, and a reminder of where my focus should be--ministering the love of Jesus to my kiddos. I don't want to forget the awe of the kids' eyes when we made the tent and got Christmas lights out, and even got to eat lunch under it. It required zero money, but fulfilled our hearts.

My prayer is that my children will remember that money and things are not the answer to their happiness. But that the answer is always right before their eyes...happiness is bound by loved ones.

When I need these sweet reminders, I'm going to visit this time capsule.

the gift of today.

About a week or so ago, I had a hard week. It was the first week of preschool for the kids, with a new schedule this year, I had an intense work week and so did Andrew. I felt like I was drowning. And I noticed how my kids attitude were a direct reflection of my own. They whined and groaned and cried, it seemed all week, taking turns, so someone was whining at every moment throughout the week, and I may have been in that rotation of whiners.

 I absolutely did not take that week as a gift. I did not see that week in the eyes of gratitude. [In fact, my eye sight literally became blurry, at that moment I knew I needed to stop and take a step back and breathe and take care of myself.] The joy was mushed beneath the backpacks and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and dirty diapers and dishes in the sink and dirt on the floor and seat buckles to buckle and, you get the point.

So it goes, I let go of my expectations. Lowered them. And I tell myself over and over, today is a gift. Our days are numbered. This world is temporary, as much as sometimes we feel invincible and the days will not end. They will.

Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom. Psalm 90:12

We are not entitled to our everyday. That was a lesson well-learned this past summer with Naomi's cancer diagnosis. I don't want to forget that. [And why my blog title was changed to The Gift of Today.]

And oh my, yesterday was quite certainly a gift from God. His grace was so abundant as we returned to the hospital after a three month hiatus. Emotions were high and low and across the board last week and up until the moment we heard the results of her tests from yesterday. Fear was there. Our flesh, our human, sinful nature, wanted to welcome fear, but our unwavering faith pushed it out. And it took a lot of pushing. A lot of focusing on The Creator, but He allowed for that peace to fill us.

On the way to the hospital we saw another glorious sunrise, that was not by accident. God is a pretty sweet artist. And the kids were really good. Let's be honest, with three little ones, it is not an easy statement to say all the kids were joyful and good. But they were, thank you Jesus. Naomi couldn't eat breakfast like the other two, but she was satisfied with the fact that she could carry her banana around until after her scans. Her IV took one quick poke and she was good to go. The nurses couldn't believe how low-key she was for a two year old--she didn't even have to be sedated for her scan, because she laid perfectly still. [And if you know Naomi, her stubbornness can come out and well, hello, she is the middle-child.] We waited for two hours to talk with our oncologist, Dr. Long. Waiting on a hospital floor, especially on a hematologist-oncologist pediatric floor, isn't the most comfortable feeling. But God protected my thoughts by focusing on Naomi's sweet way of play while we waited.

Then the news came. Although the chances of Naomi's cancer returning are very slim, there is still a chance. But that chance didn't happen yesterday, praise Jesus! She still has a small part of the tumor left, as it was expected since 95% was initially removed, but it didn't appear to grow and there were no new spots! We thank our Heavenly Father for what He has already done in Naomi's life and remain confident in His almighty power. And we continue to focus on today. That today is a gift. And one day, we will no longer experience cancer, and death, and pain, and doctor visits, because we will be rescued by God. I'm so thankful we are apart of His redemption plan.

We celebrated the good news with an afternoon trip to the zoo with all the kids and my brother and sister-in-law and their two children.

Now we are go on another three month break before the next scan. But I refuse to live our lives waiting for the when and if, but living rather for the great I Am. 

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw everything that hinders and the sin that so easy entangles. And let us run with perserverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Hebrews 12:1-2

unattainable expectations.

I'm fresh in this season. This season of feeling like I have to do everything right. Everything perfect. And if I don't, well, someone is going to be let down and not like me or judge me or think I'm a failure. This last week in particularly I've been struggling with this. Which causes me to make me feel like I'm drowning.

The problem is, this expectation came from no one but myself. Why do we do this to ourselves? Fill our brain with doubt and unattainable goals of perfection. Christ hasn't called us to perfection. In fact, it's complete opposite. He calls us, as sinners, to accept His love, and just love Him and His people. His grace is sufficient.

Here's a confession. We just got home from the kids being at preschool while I was at work.  Now I'm letting the kids eat their lunch on the coffee table while watching a movie. Linc just brought me a pair of sharp scissors. I'm eating leftovers from dinner and there is a huge sink full of dishes in my kitchen. And somehow I thought it would be a good idea to write about unattainable expectations because if I thought hard about what my current moment of life looks like I might freak out. Because, I'm far from perfect. My kids aren't learning at this very moment, my house is a mess, or I'm not spending quality time with my kiddos.

But, but I'm trying to change my habits of self destruction.  Instead of seeing this moment right now as chaos and tons of things to do. I'm taking this moment right now and seeing my kids as freely expressing themselves by putting on dance clothes and shoes to dance to the movie they are watching. [Wait, now they have asked to turn on some Nutcracker music to dance to, done with the movie.] Linc is exploring--learning about himself and things around him--currently bringing me shoe after shoe, a bit safer than scissors, thankfully. And I get to eat in peace, which is rare and pretty awesome.

My kids are okay. They are loved. I am loved, by them and my Heavenly Father. I have no one to please, but to share the grace of God and the joy that he scores deep into my heart when I realize what really matters in life. Not the dishes. Or that I let my kids watch a movie while eating lunch. Or, gasp, they don't eat all organically.

Where is my focus today? On my unattainable expectations that cause me to drown in self-destruction or on the Creator and Sustainer of all things? On the joys of today, even in the midst of chaos?

Picture completely unrelated to the post, except I look at this and am reminded that my kids accept me for who I am, my imperfections and all. Thankful for how God uses our kids to remind us of grace. 

**Did you notice the new blog title?! More on that in another post!

heroes for naomi. {a childhood cancer event}.

Summer is over for us, kids are in pre-school a few mornings a week and I have more going on with my job (I'm the Elementary Children's Director at our church, mmmhmmm).

But this summer, it's hard to let go of for many reasons. I am constantly reflecting back on what I learned. Or I should say, what God taught me through our circumstances.

One of which, God has clearly shown me over and over He puts people in our path to love us and support us and encourage us.

I've been meaning to post about a very special event that took place this summer. An event that I had nothing to do with, except it had everything to do with us.

An event about people. Love. Community. Support. Childhood cancer.

Two days after Naomi's diagnosis I received a Facebook message from the owner of The Green Nursery, an amazing local (and online) baby boutique. She said she wanted to do a fundraiser for us.

At two days we didn't know a lot of details about Naomi, except that she had Neuroblastoma, the childhood cancer, and that she was going to have surgery. Yet, Abby (and her awesome husband, Scott) said, we are all in. We are helping you guys.

See, last year, Naomi "modeled" some of their cloth diapers for them. So they had a special place in their heart for her. And they are just fantastic people who love to love. They gathered up some other awesome, local companies who wanted to be apart of it. (KRC Catering, Venus Leah Photography, Pip and Bean Capes, and Blissful Transition Doula Services)

Naomi, about 17 months, March 2012. 

So, we showed up for the event on July 1. And we were blown away by the support. 

Custom made super hero capes by Pip and Bean (also local, but can be found on Etsy!) The design was completely inspired by Naomi--while at Riley the scan room had hot air balloons that lit up on the ceiling for Naomi to watch during the scan, it was a great distracter for her, while she had to lay very still. (The owner of Pip and Bean, Alyssa showed up at our home two days after Naomi's diagnosis with custom made capes for each of my children. I mean, seriously.)

There was a free super hero photo booth by Venus Leah Photography (who also so graciously took our family pictures at the beach the day before Naomi's surgery)

So many people from the community came out to support us. 

We were humbled by the love we received. 

Free entertainment by Kid Koozey and Octopus Ink

 Probably my favorite moment of the event was being able to recognize a family that truly is a hero. A little boy from our community, named Peyton, recently went to be with Jesus after a year battle with a brain tumor. His beautiful legacy, that he created in his short five years of life, will live on, especially through his twin brother and most recently born little sister (as of today!). You can learn more about Peyton on his Facebook page, Peyton's Angels. It was a true privilege to be able to put a cape on Peyton's brother, Stillman. I was incredibly touched that the family came out to show their support to us as well. Now that's true community. 

Because we are all in this together. We feel each other's burdens. We encourage. And say, it's going to be okay. Or here's a shoulder to cry on. And when the blessings come in, we then pay-it-forward and bless others. With all the hard in the world, there is still a lot of love. And that is what we are going to continue to spread.

So thankful for this event that shined a light on childhood cancer and how a community can come together and do something about it. I've also been inspired by the event to get more involved in childhood cancer awareness. I'm now volunteering to be a family resource at a local treatment center, so I can encourage families as we have been so encouraged ourselves. 

Childhood cancer can't take love away. That's for sure. 

a few {very honest} thoughts.

I told myself I would be in bed by 9pm tonight because I'm that tired. Except we didn't get the kids to bed till 9, so it wasn't going to happen for me.

Last night I cleaned my home (well, parts of it) after the kiddos went to bed. When I wiped the mirrors, dusted the dresser (who am I kidding, I didn't dust), put away the clothes, scrubbed the old blue toothpaste off of the kids' sink, an overwhelming sense of gratitude set in. And the Holy Spirit filled me with thankfulness for all of our blessings. But last night, as I was almost done cleaning this thought hit me and tried to crumble me up and rip away at my gratitude---Naomi's 3 month post-surgery scan is August 26, I must get my house in tip-top order and get all my projects done by then because what if we have to stay in the hospital for a long time. What if...her cancer comes back. Am I ready for it? [I'm confident in God's plan and what He has already done with Naomi and our family. I fully believe that Naomi's cancer won't return.]

Fear not. For I am with you. [I repeated this to myself over and over.]

Do my kids know that I am broken and need Jesus? Do others? I don't want to wear a mask. I just want to be me. And have Jesus' love radiate through me.

We have lived in our home for just over a year now, I love it so much, but I'm overwhelmed by the size. I want to use it for His glory. How can I do that? Am I doing that? Maybe we should just sell everything. It times to simplify more. I'm tired of stuff.

Adoption.

Thankful that I am God's adopted child. Thankful for his loving discipline. Thankful that He knows the big picture.

Did I remind myself that today was a gift? Did I let go of the things don't really matter? Did I choose joy?

from where i stand.

For some reason today I stopped and imagined my life in five years, when Lincoln would be in kindergarten and the girls reading and having slumber parties. All the kids in school. Not changing diapers. Or refilling sippy cups. Or dodging toys on the ground as I dash for Lincoln before he jumps off the coffee table. Okay, well that last part may not change in five years. But I know a lot will.

And sometimes, okay, confession, a lot of times, my mind goes there. Eagerly desiring it. When my babies will be independent and I can breathe and maybe just maybe read a book at the pool instead of chasing one, two, three little ones.

When I went there in my mind. Five years down the road, I missed this. Where I stand right now. Rocking Lincoln before every nap and bed, snuggling singing our favorite songs Amazing Grace, Three Little Birds, and Come Thou Fount. Playing peek-a-boo with a book I gave him to distract him while I get his pajamas on. Listening to Naomi say the funniest things in her sweet toddler voice. Watching her pretend to nurse her babies and jump jump jump when I'm holding her hand. See, Audrey is almost there. Her independence is blossoming every single day like a wildflower in an open field. Heck, somehow she talked me into letting her get her ears pierced at four years old. [And she has reminded every single day when to clean her ears. I knew my sweet rule-follower would take to heart the directions the ear lady gave her. Ear lady? I don't even know. I can't come up with a better term.]  I can tell she is teetering between being a full blown kid and holding onto being little for a tad bit longer. She still uses the word "boo-boos" when she gets hurt, and I won't tell her any different, because it keeps her that small that much longer. She still sleeps with her blankie, and she can do that as long as she wants. At the same time she can make her own peanut butter and jelly, crack her own hard-boiled egg, and open and close all the baby gates, which comes in handy. I can tell her to go get ready for the day and she comes downstairs in her own attire of choice and hair done, which mainly includes wearing at least six different clips. She is writing stories in her own language and already pretending to do homework. But wasn't she just born yesterday?

Time is fleeting. And five years will be here tomorrow. And I'll be wondering where the little years went.

So today, I take in where I stand. Babies clinging to my legs. Carrying sleeping toddlers up to their rooms after a morning at the park. Packing a household when we leave for even a day. Watching the giant smirks that appear when we chase each other endlessly outside. Always carrying wipes and diapers around, with a few goldfish mushed in between in my purse. Buckling and tightening carseat straps, kissing head bonks, and fulfilling snuggle requests before bed. Pretending to be a fairy chased by an evil dragon, or having a little car zooming around on my arm.  These are the years. The hard, exhausting, surprising, beautiful years.

Tomorrow is not promised, but today, where I stand right now, is what I have.

Our reflection in The Bean in Chicago last week. That pretty much captures where I stand pretty well, or I should say where I lay. Chaotic love. Just the way I want it. 

raising confident kids.

I'm not talking confidence in oneself. I'm talking confidence in Christ.

When Audrey came into this world, she was immediately hooked up to monitors and we went directly from one hospital to another. At a mere five days she had to have a heart procedure done. I stressed about how much she nursed, how she slept, how she breathed. I basically tried to prevent something ever happening to her when she was a baby. My goal was to not let her cry, (except she cried a lot, because she was a more challenging baby-go figure) because then, then that would mean she was uncomfortable or hurt or needed me and I wasn't protecting her.

Right?

Wrong.

I lived in fear. I was putting more trust in my own human abilities, knowing that they fail, rather than trusting Jesus.

God calls us in the Bible to fear not. (Joshua 1:3-9)

Fear not.

He called Moses, Abraham, David, and the list goes on, to be strong and courageous. Even when you are fighting a battle. Even when all odds are against you. Because God will never leave us or forsake us. Never.

"For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present, nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8:38-39

So fear not. 

This is something that I am learning. It doesn't come naturally for me to be a dare-devil, worry-free person, especially when it comes to my children. [Don't get me wrong, God also calls us to be wise in our decision making.]

I'm learning to give my children whole-heartily over to God. To raise brave kids, who find their confidence in Their Creator.

I don't expect my children to be someone they aren't, but I do want them to trust Jesus.

Their Creator knows them way better than I ever will. So I trust Him. I trust Him with the loves of my life. And I say things to my children throughout the day like It's ok, God is always with you, even when you fall down and get a boo-boo. Or God will always love you, He made you! or God tells us we are fearfully and wonderfully made, isn't that awesome! Or Just talk to God if you are feeling scared. 

And although I'm telling those things to my children, I am also telling them to myself. To remind myself that God is in control. To have confidence in Him and His Abilities.

So when Audrey climbs that fence and could, wait for it, get tetnus, because I think about that, I still let her climb.

When the girls roll down the hill and oh my gosh, might wake up with chiggers the next day, I let them roll.

When Lincoln climbs the coffee table, I teach him how to get down himself, and let him figure it out.

And when my child has to be wheeled off on a hospital bed, I whisper, fear not, God is with you. And I whole-heartily turn to Jesus.

"In him and through faith in him we may approach God with freedom and confidence." Ephesians 3:12

This picture is from my brother's wedding in June, so incredibly thankful to be having a normal summer. The every day is so, so good. 

rejoice in suffering.

I've been staring at the blinking cursor for weeks now as I want to type a new post. But I just can't. I read the words that flowed so easily from my fingertips when we went through all of it. And in some ways, I'm afraid to type again. I'm afraid that if I type a new post, it will somehow push those weeks of bringing me to my scariest, yet most joyful time in my life to just a faint happening, something that happened in the past, tucked away like a love letter in your top drawer.

And I don't want that. I want to remember what it felt like to be there. To be where God brought me to my knees. Crying out for Him. The only One that saves and gives hope and a peace that surpasses all understanding. The only One.

Today I was reading in 1 Peter 4 about rejoicing in suffering.  See, Peter walked the walked, he was persecuted for his beliefs, yet he chose to still bring glory to God. And I was reminded how thankful I am to be able to celebrate suffering. Which pretty much seems like an oxymoron. Yet, through the power of the Holy Spirit is it possible. It's not the same celebration of a wedding or a birthday party. But celebrating in that suffering produces perseverance and a deeper faith. And that we can actually cry tears of joy when glory is brought to Him through it. Sometimes those tears of joy come sooner than later, or later than we wanted. But joy can always come in the morning, if we say yes to it.

So I've decided to continue to write blog posts, leaving my fears behind, instead of the story. The story that I will continue to share because it brings God glory. This story is just a small sliver of God's redemption plan and grace. I want God to continue to write my life story. I want Him to lead me, even in places I feel uncomfortable, so that I may find Him.

Just a little over one month post removal of tumor and girlfriend is doing fabulous. 

a miracle. {recap of the last 15 days}

Jesus replied "What is impossible with man is possible with God." Luke 18:27

15 days ago we took Naomi in for a cough that she had for going on four days. I was really just tired of not sleeping, I figured it was croup and she could get some meds and we would be on our way. Or I should say Andrew on his way, he took Naomi in, so I could go into work, thinking it wouldn't be a big deal.

It was a big deal.

Dr. Beck, the amazing doctor who did such a thorough exam on Naomi's chest requested an x-ray after giving Naomi a breathing treatment and hearing that things just didn't sound right. Nothing else wrong with her-no fever or acting differently, just a cough. {And thank you to Dr. Beck for trusting her instinct and not just sending us on our way with meds!}

An x-ray for a cough. Really? Yes, God knew exactly what was happening.

We immediately were told to head to Riley because a large tumor was found near Naomi's heart and lungs.

I will never forget the moment we stepped in our home to gather our belongings as quickly as possible before heading to Riley. Andrew and I stopped right there on our wood floors and fell to our knees to pray. Really to cry out to save our baby. And God knew.

By the evening time at Riley we were told they were 95% sure it was Neuroblastoma based on the initial characteristics of the x-ray and the CT Scan they performed, but more tests would need to be ran to confirm. A hospital worker, seemingly unfamiliar with what to tell patients when they first hear the news that their two year old has cancer, told us Naomi would start chemo the next day after her biopsy and bone marrow check. Those words shocked us. What was going on? All of a sudden we were in the cancer unit at Riley and wheeling my baby around in a red wagon with IV's dripping fluids into her. But God knew exactly what was happening.

Thankfully, around 11pm that night, Dr. West came into the picture and she quickly crushed that idea of starting chemo the next day. She said we would try to do the biopsy and bone marrow check, but wasn't sure if we would. She has had a calm and confidence to her the whole time, that we respect so much.

That's all we knew. Neuroblastoma. I did not google it. I refused to go there. Only through stories that had reached me did I know that it appeared to be an aggressive childhood cancer that can require years of treatment. But God knew. And this surreal peace came rushing in. It was literally like God telling me not to worry, He has this. He knows. He is right there. Right here.

Then Dr. West gave us hope. She said if they can surgically remove 90% of the tumor, sometimes the rest of the tumor can regress on it's own if it had not spread yet. That is what I was holding on to, that is what I hoped and prayed and pleaded to God.

We ended up not getting a bone marrow check or biopsy on that Friday, but we did get an abdominal scan to see if the cancer spread there. It didn't. Which was amazing news, being that with Neuroblastoma, many times if it has spread, it is there. If it hadn't gone to the abdomen, could it possibly have not spread? We didn't know yet, but God knew.

We were sent home until Tuesday morning, surgery day. We were home for nearly four days to be showered with love, rejuvenate our bodies and souls. And just to be in the moment. God knew how much that would help our family.

Surgery couldn't have gone better. Not to mention, somewhere around ten countries were praying for sweet Naomi. And thousands of people. Every update we had was great news and the last update was just astounding--they were able to get 95% of the tumor. More than they had hoped. Because God is bigger. God knew.

 I'm sharing the before and after scans so you can you get a better understanding of the size of the tumor and how this is truly a miracle that it did not spread and ended up being mostly benign. The tube going down on the right picture is from her breathing tube. 

For recovery, Naomi was put in a general recovery area of the hospital, instead of the cancer floor because that floor was full. At that moment, God spoke to me and said it was because we weren't going to be dealing with cancer. Sounds crazy? It's true.

Naomi recovered from surgery so well. She was able to move onto her side almost immediately, which wasn't even a goal until the next day. She went potty within 20 minutes of her catheter being removed. Two days after the procedure, the goal was to walk three times. She got up and walked six times.

And then the news came. What we had been waiting on...had it spread? Is it in her bone marrow? The thing is, I knew the answer. God knew the answer and He gave me that peace that surpasses all understanding. My usual self would have been worried sick waiting for that news, scared, in full anticipation. But I never felt that. When the news came, we obviously were ecstatic and Andrew and I slapped each other a high five and I did a little dance in the halls of those white, sterile rooms. But what God had been telling us, was just confirmed.

It didn't spread. In fact, most of the tumor was benign, what is called Ganglioneuroma. Some cancerous cells did show up, but they wouldn't require treatment because the surgery was able to remove it all. The 5% that was left? Benign. [That was confirmed today when Naomi had an mIBG scan to check for hidden spots and anymore cancerous cells.]

That's it. Surgery. Done. Only follow up testing.

I never looked up stats or wanted to know what treatment might look like. I knew chemo and radiation could most definitely be on the radar, but I also knew God gave me a peace that could only come from Him. And whatever was going to happen, He knew.

On the way up today to get Naomi's scan I asked Andrew to look up a stat. I told him to find out what the chances would be that when diagnosed with Neuroblastoma, that you would only need surgery to remove it. He found an article that stated 6%. (And here is where I should give credit to the article, but I honestly don't know where he found it, and yeah, I'm sure there are other stats out there that say differently. But the point is, it is a very low number.) SIX PERCENT.

So Naomi beat the odds. But the thing is, God doesn't run on chances or 'beating the odds' nor is he constrained by time or age or stats. God sees eternity. And that is why His plan is so much better than mine. I'm going to continue to throw stats out the window.

None of this is by accident. The way everything happened. The outcome. The chances of Naomi's Neuroblastoma actually being low-grade, especially for her age (usually low-grade is in infants, not 2.5 year olds). The fact that the tumor was in a location fairly easy to remove, in other words, not wrapped around other organs. The way Naomi responded to her IV injection today and yesterday with barely a blink. The way she wasn't even bothered when her drainage tube was removed today. A tube out of her chest, did not phase her.

I'm not saying this to make it look like this journey was easy. Or that I was happy the whole time. I cried and had to watch Naomi be in pain and recover and spend nights sleeping on a hard tiny sofa, if you can even call it that. I was away from my other two children more than I ever would have wanted to be. But I did feel peace. And comfort from God the Creator of all things. Naomi's story cannot be told without God being mentioned. Because He was and is clearly present. Prayer is powerful and we gathered an army to pray for her. {Thank you for sharing our story and praying.}

We have one more test on Tuesday, a bone scan to make sure Naomi's spine or other bones weren't affected by it, being that part of the tumor was resting on her spine. But pretty much in the last 15 days, God worked a miracle in Naomi. God is real and relevant. And that in despair and when you are in your darkest moment, a nightmare, God will carry you through. And light will come. In His time, which is not of this world, but with eternity in mind.

Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer. Romans 12:12

I don't know what tomorrow will bring. But what I've learned from this, is to take today for what it is--a gift. I know that we will face more hardships in the days ahead, but I'm thankful that I can document this miracle and be reminded of how God used our little Naomi to bring glory to Him and He saved her. Being at the feet of Jesus, clinging to His robe is a place where grace abounds.

love endures. {an opportunity to help someone else}

While Lincoln was taking a late afternoon nap today, I sat at the dining room table in awe of the sights, sounds, and smells that surrounded me. Naomi kept tiptoeing in wearing her favorite Rapunzel dress. [Mind you, that was probably her fourth change of the day, and she only had been home for a few hours. That girl can change like a boss. Drainage tube hanging from her has nothing on her ability to strip down.] And I listened to her toddler voice with the missing "Ls" and slurred sentences. I pretty much want to video everything that comes out of her mouth because her voice needs to be boxed up and savored. I overheard Andrew playing a princess game with Audrey, vibrations of joy came straight from her. I looked at my counter and it was filled with cookies from the afternoon. While we were at the hospital with Naomi to get a dye injection earlier in the day, my sister and friend decorated cookies with the kids. Like no big deal. We will pick your kids up from school, take them to get special decorating stuff at the store, bake cookies with them, and make memories. My refrigerator is full of food, none of which I have bought. I can't remember the last time I went the grocery store. We filled up our gas tank with a gift card from someone. We have a huge box sitting on our counter for Naomi, surely filled with sweet pink things. The smell of homemade chicken pot pie and pomegranate blueberry vinaigrette filled the air enough that I had to stop typing and go eat. Because, YUM. I haven't made dinner for the last 14 days. We received multiple cards of encouragement in the mail today both from strangers and friends.

Every blessing. Every time I say thank you it just doesn't seem sufficient for what we are receiving. God is using each person to create this safety net for us. It's like saying, just fall, we will catch you. Your burden is ours.

That's exactly what God has been telling me the whole time. My burden is His. He gave His son. For me. For you.

But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed. Isaiah 53:5

Pierced.
Crushed.
Wounds.

Instead of feeling such emotions of turmoil these last two weeks, we have felt an abundance of love, hope, joy, peace, and faith. Through it all.

Love never gives us, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through all circumstances. 1 Corinthians 13:7

You guys, we had meals set up for a month and a half. People were ready to come mow our lawn every week. To do unfinished projects at our house. To hire a cleaning person to come deep clean. Provide us with a deep freezer for meals. I can't even wrap my head around how amazing people are and what can happen in such a short amount of time when love is the focus. Most of these blessings we are kindly turning down, as we are ready to move on from this short-lived journey with childhood cancer. But we are incredibly thankful for each blessing that comes in. God worked a miracle in our Naomi and all we are doing now is follow-up protocol testing. She will continue to have follow-ups, probably for the rest of her life. But, it is all worth it to bring glory to Him, the One who saves. I was brought to the feet of Jesus and I don't want to leave.

I know so many people just want to bless Naomi and our family and bring a smile our way. Let me tell you, we are smiling and choosing joy. God is good. Thank you so very much for all the love we have received in the last 14 days. We are truly blown away. We have everything we need and more. But I'd like to throw something out here. I have a friend named Bridgette Boswell who I met on the Internet. [Crazy Internet people getting to know other crazy Internet people. Go figure.] She has no idea that I'm writing about her. (Hi Bridgette if you are reading this!) But her family has been on my heart recently.  Her and her husband have two boys (one of which they adopted) and they are currently trying to bring home their girl, sweet Edna to her forever family. They are in the waiting period right now. And I was just thinking, how cool would it be for her adoption fundraiser to be met while they wait?! So here's the deal, if you have felt it on your heart to help Naomi and want to bless our family, I'm asking that you consider blessing The Boswell family in honor of Naomi. Bridgette's blog, Stitches of Love, has a PayPal fundraiser account attached on the right hand side (just click on the blog title and it will direct you to her page). We have experienced first hand what a difference it can make when people come together to shower a family in love with prayer and monetary gifts.

Here's a little video to learn more about this fellow Indiana family, the Boswell's and their journey with adoption. [They have this video up on their blog and I thought I would share. They are pretty dag'on cute.]

Link to Blog for Donations: Stitches of Love

his redemption song.

Exactly one week ago, almost to the minute, we were told by our fabulous doctor, Dr. West, that the surgery to remove Naomi's tumor couldn't have gone better. God heard our cries and He did a miracle. He had His hand on Naomi. In that white stark sterile room, on the hands of extremely gifted surgeons and nurses as they guided around the mass attached to Naomi's lung. He had his hands wrapped around me as we worshipped Him two floors above Naomi in the hospital. I'm so incredibly grateful that He answered our prayers the way I hoped, in the way I had peace about it, that came from Him. But the thing is, no matter the outcome of yesterday, today, or tomorrow, His hands are on me. On Naomi. On Audrey. On Lincoln. On my husband. On each and every one of us. His wings are spread to bring comfort to those in Oklahoma right now. This world is full of devastation and things out of our control. But His promise remains true. One day, one day everything will be made new again. His redemption song will be loud and clear.

Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those that love him. James 1:12

No one except Christ alone is invincible. We aren't protected from tragedy and death and cancer and natural disasters and evil as long as we are on earth. Sometimes we face trials that just seem to have no end in sight. Years of treatment. My mom went through 4.5 years of chemo and radiation treatment for her Breast Cancer, while trying to raise six kids with my dad. And in the end, God chose to take her home, to heal her body completely, so she may dance in heaven until we meet again.

Beauty rises from the ashes.

I will continue to pray for the broken-hearted and will continue to rejoice, dance, and sing in His Redemption Song. Holding steady to the confidence in what is to come. One day.

{We are a singing, dancing family. No doubt. Naomi today, just before nap.

 Girlfriend is healing fabulously from the surgery.}