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.}

finding fulfillment {finding grace}.

If you would have told me that I would have found the most fulfillment I ever have while facing my biggest nightmare, I would have told you were crazy. Grace in the time of my nightmare, I would have said no way.

But that's the beauty of grace, God's abundant love comes rushing in like a brook flows after a fresh storm right when you need it. His grace is sufficient, that has been deeply engraved on my heart this week.

But the part of grace that is so profound? It never ever goes away. It has always been with me. It has always been with you. It is always with each of us. It's when we decide to let God's grace fill us. To say yes to Him. Not the next big vacation. Or when your child scores the most goals. Or when you finally were able to remodel your bathroom. Or receive a raise. All of these things are wonderful and most certainly gifts from God as He loves His children dearly. But these things fade and we keep looking for what's next. I've found that the things of the world enter me and fill me until the sand in the hourglass has all fallen and then I flip it over and try to feel complete with another thing, until it is gone again. A repetitive cycle that grows weary with time.

But grace has no ending. It is eternal. It is abundant. This week, Jesus broke my self-sufficient and centered self so that I could clearly see this gift of grace. Gift. I didn't earn it. I don't deserve it. Yet, it is mine. He gave me a peace that transcends all understanding so I could bring glory to Him during this battle with cancer with our baby girl.

Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. Romans 5:1-2

This week God used others to show his grace to us. Today two huge baskets of toiletries show up in our room given by a complete stranger-- my friend shared our story and it touched someone else and they wanted to show grace to us. A stranger from Oklahoma sent little gifts to Naomi to brighten her day. We have a date night waiting at an amazing restaurant in Indianapolis because others want to uplift my relationship with Andrew during this trying time. Food is brought to our house every night as others watch our other two babies. This is God. Taking care of His people.

Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Deuteronomy 31:6

My God goes with me. He's gone before me. I'm so glad He didn't let me have a say in whether I was allowed to enter this nightmare. If someone asked me if I would be okay with my daughter being diagnosed with cancer? Of course I'd say no. But this week? Clearly God has been with us every step of the way and will continue as we will face new test results in a month, three months, six months, yearly. I don't regret this week or wish it was different. Yes, it is hard to see my baby in pain. But I know, I know she is going to be stronger from this. And most importantly our faith as a family has grown. And His kingdom is expanding. Others are saying yes to grace.

He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end. Ecclesiastes 3:11

I can't fully understand God's plan. But what I can do is continue to set my eyes on Him and He will give me everything I need. And I believe grace and gratitude go hand in hand. When I thank Jesus for the little things, I see His grace abundantly in my life. Today He had his hands on Naomi as she had her nerve block removed and had very good pain control all day. Her fluid discharge was much better today, so good, that in the morning that can removed. She was her normal, feisty self, just wearing a cute little blue hospital gown. Tomorrow we go home. Home.

Tomorrow will come when it will. Tonight I watch my baby sleep peacefully in her hospital bed, knowing that whatever is next, His grace is sufficient.