Sugar and baseball and fascists, oh my

Walker told me I had to be off the computer by 8pm. Okay, actually, I told him to tell me I had to be off by 8pm. To which he said, but you won't, and I said, but that's because you don't HELP me, I have an addiction, I had an intervention on my own self and I need your support, quit being an enabler, to which he said it's just like in college when Joel used to say he would pay us $10 to wake him up for class. It never worked. To which I replied, would you please just promise me you will help? Please? For the love of all things technical and holy?

So after that rigamarole I should probably kinda get off at 8pm. Which was 2 minutes ago.

Rigamarole, there's a word I just don't use enough.

I would just like to report that today Ike has managed to spill a sack of sugar and a small thingy of salt all over my floor. And he looked so stinking cute doing it. Sometimes my kids go through cute spurts, and my skull, he is smack dab in the middle of one. I could eat him up. Especially since he was already sugared and salted.

Sheppy's 7th (sob) birthday party was Saturday and it was fantastic. All the manlys went to take a tour of Minute Maid Park. And I'll just go ahead and be the bad mom and say that I was so excited that I did not have to go take a tour of Minute Maid Park. If another mom was going to come, then I would have, but all the dads could make it and I did not have to and I was e to the lated. We all met up for pizza afterwards and he opened up his presents, which consisted of a ball gun thing, some Star Wars thingys, a huge toy army tank, a GI Joe thingy, and a WWII let's not call it a doll who is an Italian solider named Andrea. Do you see a theme? Shep is OB to the SESSED now with all things military. His grandad took him to the military museum in Fredericksburg and now it is all he talks about.

I can think of few places I would less desire to go than the military museum in Fredericksburg. I'd choose Minute Maid Park over that. Can you tell I'm a little girly? I am not boyly, Maggie would say. Not boyly at all.

But just so you know, Andrea has some guns, and I don't mean the kind that shoot bullets. Check out boy's six-pack.

And piercing blue eyes. Just look at the dreamy looks on Barbie's and Nicki's faces.

Fascist or no, Ken is in big trouble. As are any American secrets that Barbie and Nicki may be privy to.

As you can tell by the photos above, my camera's flash broke so I asked dads Scott and Lance to bring their cameras and they took spectacular photos. I love my husband, but, a photographer he is not, so the broken camera thing completely worked to my ad to the vantage (am I ob to the noxious enough yet?)   Check out these pictures.

Since Sissy Rose was born when her 'big' brother was one year and ten days old, her 6th party is coming up this week. Then Maggie's 5th is in December but I am seriously wondering if I should do it in November instead, simply to spread out the toy fatigue if nothing else. Thoughts? If you were a Christmas baby, did you ever do that? And is it not pa to the thetic that I carry momguilt over making her a Christmas baby? Please, it's not like she was planned. (who said that?)

Tomorrow morning I have Moms in Touch and then my friend Nicole is making me go with her to something awful called Tabata, which I intend to call Tameka because I cannot remember Tabata. But I can remember Tameka. Don't ask me to explain the way my mind works. Anyway Tameka is supposed to be some ridiculously intensive workout routine. I thought Nicole loved me but evidently she does not because she is making me go with her to this torture class. Tameka was invented by the Japanese. Who were our enemies in WWII. As Shepherd constantly tells me. And who tortured people.

Guess who just walked in the door.....ah!! Gotta go!

Night!!

Meant to be

Long before you drew your first breath,
the dream was coming true
God wanted to give a gift to the world,
so he wrapped it up in you
Every step that you've taken,
every move that you make is part of his plan

You were meant to be touching the lives that you've touched
And meant to be here making this world so much more than it would be without you in it
You were meant to be bringing the gifts you bring
And singing the songs you've been given to sing
You were perfectly, wonderfully, beautifully meant to be
You were meant to be

Long before you took your first walk
and stumbled to the ground
God started telling the story of you
to the angels gathered round
Every failure and victory, and everything in between,
it's all in his hands

You were meant to be touching the lives that you've touched
And meant to be here making this world so much more than it would be without you in it
You were meant to be bringing the gifts you bring
And singing the songs you've been given to sing
You were perfectly, wonderfully, beautifully meant to be
You were meant to be

You are, you are, you are meant to be

For every breath that you're taking, and every move that you make
It's a meaningful life you've been given, so live it well

In addition to his talking like he smokes a pack a day, Ikey has a pretty serious speech delay. It doesn't worry me - Maggie had one (still has some articulation issues, very, very cute ones) and the word is that I didn't talk until I was three, and look at me! Still making up for it!

Ike's language advancements will come in bursts, and we've had a pretty big one lately. He's increased his vocabulary but more importantly, and more excitingly, he's started using longer and complex sentences. And he's learning to express himself.

Like his sister, one of his favorite first words is....Jesus? No. Love? No. YoulookgorgeousMomma? Nope.

"Stupid."

Oh, the power that word holds.

This morning I heard this conversation from the computer room:

Maggie: Mommy! Ikey called me stupid!
Me: Ikey, that's ugly talk. It's not loving. We don't use that word. Tell Maggie you're sorry.
Ike: Sowwy.
- pause, then quietly -
  I not sowwy, you tupid head.


Y'all, what a fantastic sentence!! A personal pronoun, a negative, an adjective, an offense! It expressed so much emotion!

I beamed with pride.
And disciplined the little sinner. Proudly.

At some point, this little baby

turned into this little boy

who turned into this little man

Pitter Patter Art Winner

The random generator drew number 24, and that is Carin from Coffee Cup of Faith!

Congrats, Carin!

Adoption blogroll anybody?

Shhhhh, come close, I have a secret confession to make:


I don't read blogs that often.

Here's why. When I do, it is like I get sucked into a time warp, and before I know it it's 1am and I am still sitting here and the house is a mess and the bills aren't paid (it's always when I sit down to pay bills that this happens, like, um, now) and my husband is neglected and my kids' lunches are in no way made and I feel like the horrible Proverbs 32 woman that I am.

So I force myself to avoid the vortex.

But, for those of you in the adoption process, where it is wait wait wait wait then CRAZY FLURRY OF EXCITING ACTIVITY, I find myself missing out on referrals and (gasp) even gotchas.

So. I am going to add an adoption blogroll to this site so when Walker isn't looking I can hop around real quick and find out what the latest is.

If you want to be added, please leave me a comment with this info:

1. blog url
2. adopting from: (Ethiopia, China, domestic, etc)
3. if you want, let me know where you live now, like, Texas, or more probably Tennessee since it appears to be a state law in Tennessee that you must adopt (I'm kidding but just sick enough to say - wow, wouldn't that be cool?)
4. where you are in the process, eg, paperchase, waitlist, home
5. If you are with Gladney, let me know that!

Then someday I'll put all this together. In all my spare time.

(What am I getting myself into??)

How to help a friend who has lost a child

We just got back from a friend's house where my children acted like the kids from Nanny McPhee. Seriously, so bratty, like I don't spend half my day telling them not to jump on furniture or run in the house. I was mortified and embarrassed and angry and could barely stand to look at them.


Then I saw I had an email from Gillian. 
God is obviously in my business today. 
And my pride and concern for my image as a 'good mother' suddenly doesn't seem so important.


Gillian is a friend of a friend, and we email regularly. I miss her son desperately, even though I never met him. He was born three weeks before Eva Rose was, and he went to Heaven four years later. She has blogged about it beautifully, and she is blogging here today about how to help a friend who has been through the hell she has. 


Pardon me, I'm off to hug my kids now.


Thank you, sweet Gillian.

********

If you are a mom, I know what your worst nightmare is--losing your child. Or at least that seems to be the case with most moms I meet. Before you become a mom you cannot imagine loving someone as much as your used-to-be-normal-turned-fanatic friend loves her child.

Then, you have a child. And you understand. Your whole world changes. Your priorities change. Your schedule changes. Suddenly, everything revolves around this tiny being who has entered your home. Sleeping, showering, eating, all become luxuries that are quickly shunned should your baby need you. It doesn't make sense, but we push ourselves to the backseat to make sure this little charge is cared for, clothed, and adored. To think that anyone or anything could harm him is unthinkable. You couldn't recover. He is more precious to you than life itself.

I wish I weren't writing this post. I wish I had no idea what it felt like to lose a child. When I became a mom, I never imagined my life would include this tragedy. I thought my life would continue on in its chaotic yet comfortable pace for the next 18 years or so.

In November of 2007 I was a very busy mom of two adorable little ones, Joseph and Holly. I spent my days chasing them around, trying to get them to eat, breaking up toy wars, et cetera, before collapsing on the couch at the end of an exhausting day.

Joseph had turned 3 a few months early and Holly was almost 2. It was the week after Thanksgiving and I was busy with organizing childcare for our church's Thursday morning Bible Study. I was a little preoccupied with that and just trying to stay afloat with the kiddos when my world suddenly stopped.

My husband Allen, who was in his first year as a pediatric resident at Emory in Atlanta, had noticed a few things about Joseph that concerned him. I chalked it up to him knowing too much and reading too many bizarre stories in his textbooks. I kind of blew it off, but because he wanted me to, I took Joseph to the doctor to see what he thought. We were referred to an ophthalmologist, but on the advice of an attending doctor of Allen's we ended up taking Joseph to the ER the next morning. It was there we received the unbelievable news that our healthy, vivacious child had a high-grade malignant brain tumor.

To say I was shocked would be a vast understatement. I knew it was me there in that room with the doctor but I couldn't believe it was real.

After nine months of bravely fighting his tumor, Joseph died, the day after his fourth birthday.

I could write for days about our experience and everything that happened and all my emotions but I'm going to try to keep this post to how you can be a great friend to someone who has been through the nightmare of losing a child. (If you would like to read more about Joseph's story you can visit our blog: Pray for Joseph.)

I would have had no idea how to be a friend to me, but thankfully God placed dear friends in our lives who knew just how to love us and be a comfort. I am so grateful for that. Here are some things that helped us immensely:

1. The most powerful and best thing you can do for your friend is to pray for her. That should be number one on my list. When you don't know what to say to your friend, you can always go to the Perfect Counselor and ask Him to do for her what nobody else can. There is no way we would have gotten through everything with Joseph without the many fervent prayers of friends (and strangers!).
2. Organize meals for this friend. Someone organized meals for us, for months. They set it up so that the person bringing a meal left it in a cooler on our back porch. That way if we were having a hard day we didn't have to talk to anyone if we didn't want to.
3. Call them, email them, write notes, but don't be offended if they don't respond. They will cherish and appreciate every act of love but just may not have the energy to respond. I have friends I truly don't deserve, who have kept calling me, kept loving me, kept on emailing me after weeks of silence from me.
4. Resist the urge to say anything positive, like, "Well, at least they are in a better place" or "Well, it's good you still have another one," etc. In fact, be as negative as possible. The most helpful words to me were, "Oh, what a nightmare!" "How horrific," etc. One godly, wonderful friend used to just cuss every time we got together. It made me laugh and oddly enough was so encouraging because I felt like she really "got" how awful I felt.
5. Do say something. Even if it is months after the child has died, feel free to bring the topic up. They haven't forgotten and they are still hurting every minute of every day. Even if it's just, "I am so sorry to hear about your child," or "I was thinking about your child yesterday and wanted you to know he/she is remembered." If you knew the child well, you could bring up a happy memory of him or her, or something that you loved about that child. My biggest fear is that Joseph will be forgotten.
6. If they have other children, offer to take the children out for an afternoon or a day. We were blessed to have grandparents nearby after Joseph died. They would take Holly for us so we could grieve and cry and not have to put on a brave face for her. We were also exhausted-- emotionally, spiritually, and physically so we really needed that time to just rest.
7. Help them with yard work, housework, any kind of work! One sweet small group skipped church one Sunday morning and, while we were at church, planted flowers in our yard and cooked us a bunch of meals to store in the freezer (and left us with a spic-and-span kitchen!)
8. Remember the anniversary of their child's death. You will be engraved on that friend's heart forever if you remember this day-- with a note, an email, a text. It doesn't have to be a huge bouquet of flowers or anything. Just remembering means so much.
9. Still invite them to things like dinners out, book clubs, or parties. They may not feel up to going but they will appreciate the invitation. I had one friend who kept on inviting me to do things (and I probably said no to half of them), but it did so much for my mental health to get out and do some normal things once in a while.

Everyone grieves differently, that is for sure! So, these things helped me but I am sure someone else who has lost a child would include different things that helped her.

Thanks, Missy, for inviting me to post (and for being a great friend whom I've never met!).

The tassle was worth the hastle

Hallelujah, we are still rejoicing in the fact that our dossier is complete. Yippee!!

Some of you might be wondering what on earth a dossier - doss-ee-ay - is, other than a chance to impress everyone with a French word every day and in every conversation for several long months.

Here's how it works. Imagine every question to which you might answer, "I'm sorry, but that is so totally none of your beeswax" if a perfect stranger were to ask. Enter those answers on the appropriate forms. Take your top secret document to the bank and ask another perfect stranger to notarize it. Ask him or her, "No offense, but when does your notary commission expire?" Repeat 30 times.

In addition to that, you must bribe several friends and your pastor to write letters about how you are the greatest person they have ever met and your doctor to swear that you are perrrrrfectly normal. Wink wink.

BUT - you had best MAKE SURE that you/your doctor/pediatrician/banker/boss/friend/pastor does everything EXACTLY RIGHT, and I do mean EXACTLY, or it all has to be done over again. Not to pressure you or anything, but if it is not done EXACTLY RIGHT, it could delay or jeopardize your ENTIRE ADOPTION.

So you can see that it is a wee bit stressful.

After that sucker was finally on it's way to our nation's capital, I kept saying, "I feel like I just graduated from college." Because for the four years that I was at UT, I lived under a constant dark cloud that whatever I was doing, like, watching Married With Children on my boyfriend's couch under his framed Nagels or swimming at Barton Creek, there was something else I was supposed to be doing instead.

Since January, I have felt the same way. You know, guilty for having fun on Sixth Street folding laundry when I had so much homework to do. And now - (insert angelic choirs) -  the cloud has lifted.

CONGRATULATIONS GRADUATE.

Which got Walker and I to talking about:

TOP THIRTEEN WAYS THAT PREPARING A DOSSIER IS LIKE BEING IN COLLEGE

1. The eternal, nagging feeling that there is some homework you should be doing right now
2. The first look at the syllabus causes a panic attack
3. The printer or computer will fail to cooperate when there is a deadline
4. Sometimes the stress just calls for a beer
5. One night, around 2am, you begin to question the meaning of it all
6. The constant feeling that some huge anonymous entity is determining the course of your life
7. You're constantly being asked questions you don't know the answer to
8. You keep wondering why this is so dang expensive
   
9. You pull several all-nighters working on papers
10. You begin to question if you really are Dossier Material
11. You work really hard on a paper just to be told you have to rewrite it
12. The final exam determines if you pass or fail
13. After you complete the course, time stands still as you await the results in the mail

School's out.
Let's get this party started!

The details about the waitlist

Our email that went out yesterday. Yes. In pink. 

Loved ones and prayer warriors!!!

We just received confirmation from Gladney that our dossier is complete and we are officially ON THE WAITLIST for a baby girl!!!!!

Our dossier will now go to the US Embassy in DC, then on to Ethiopia. Currently the wait to a referral - when they email us a photo of an available baby along with any information - is an average of 8 months. (Go here to see Wes & Layla's description of getting their referral yesterday!) So hopefully by April we will see the little girl who will be ours!

The baby is not chosen yet. We have requested a newborn girl. So whenever our name is up, we will get the next available baby. Gladney does not give us a number like some agencies do, but their is an unofficial waitlist where we can sort of track our progress called the Gladney FBI list.

We will have to fly to Ethiopia for one court date. If all goes well, that should be in June. Then we must pass another court date that we do not have to be present for. After that, we receive an Embassy Appointment, and that is when we will make plans to fly to Ethiopia and bring her home!

We are so excited! And now the hard part begins. Because as you know... 



Thank you SO MUCH for all your prayers, encouragement, checks, love, hugs, kinds words.....we have been overwhelmed with love and support!! It has touched both of us so much to see the Body of Christ love us through this time as we seek out God's next addition to our family!

On that note, here is what we are praying for, and we would love to have you join us in approaching the Father:

1) Please pray for Bethie, this child that God chose for us before the foundations of the world were laid. Pray for her health, that she would continue to develop properly and have a safe delivery into the world.

2) Pray for her birthmother, who is now probably pregnant with her and will soon either 1) die during childbirth or shortly thereafter (the maternal mortality rate in Ethiopia is 1 in 7) or 2) have to go through the heartbreaking experience of giving away her child because she is too poor to care for her. Either one is a sure sign of a sinful world. Pray that the peace of Christ surround her. We also pray that she would know Christ as her savior, that we may one day all rejoice in Heaven together.

3) We are praying for our family as we live out these last days as a family of six, that we honor God during the wait and continue to be His mouthpiece for the plight of the 147 million orphans in the world. We pray that more opportunities would become available to awaken the church to the crisis going on in our country and our world.

4) We're praying that I don't go stark raving mad during this waiting period

5) Here's the big one: the Ethiopian courts close for about 2 months during the rainy season of August and September. If our process goes off without a hitch, we could possibly bring her home before then. If not, it would be months before the time that we meet her and bring her back, which means we would miss that much more of her infancy. So we are praying fervently that we will have her HOME BY AUGUST '11! It will take a minor miracle for this to be accomplished - but nothing is too big for our God, he has shown us that over and over throughout this process! We know that God has a "thing" for orphans and we are so blessed to participate in his care for them. And, of course, we are excited to get another baby girl!!

Other questions we've been asked a lot:

- We still have about $16K to raise. About 10K due upon referral, and then our travel expenses. We are confident that the Lord will provide it, as he has provided over $10,000 so far. We received a grant from an organization called Lifesong this week that will match any funds we raise up to 4K, so that is a huge blessing and praise!

- Oh yes, we are still taking garage sale donations. Our garage is literally so full we can barely close it, and as soon as it cools down a tiny bit we will have another one. And another. And another. We have so much stuff that I could really, really use help this time - it will be much more than a 2 person job. If you are open to that, PLEASE let me know!

Again, thank you SOOOOOO much for being so dear to us during this process and for sharing in our joy on our journey to Bethlehem!!

Love, Walker and Missy

Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.
James 1:27

Breaking news!!!

Our dossier is COMPLETE and being fed-exed to the Embassy in DC as we speak - which means -

WE ARE OFFICIALLY ON THE WAITLIST!!!!!!!!

more later!!!

My heart goes to kindergarten

Last week was hard for me and my oldest daughter. She wanted me all to herself. She whined when I was not 100% devoted to her. She sassed. She yelled. She pouted and stomped her foot.

I had tasks that needed to be accomplished. I wanted to be left alone sometimes. I was PMSing.
I sassed. I yelled. I pouted and stomped my foot.

On Saturday I told her she could run an errand with me. A boring errand, an early morning boring errand, but it was just the two of us, and that is all she wanted. That was all she needed.

On the way there, she happily hummed in the back seat, coloring the princess I had printed off the internet onto recycled adoption paper. When she was done, she passed it to me while I sat at a red light.

"That's you," she said. "And that's me, cause I am in your heart."

And I tried to not to run us both off the road through the blur of my tears. 

Yesterday, the girl of my heart walked into a kindergarten classroom and, in a way, out of my life.

I know, I know, she's really not out of my life. I know I sound melodramatic. But this is an end of an era for me and Eva Rose.

It's been a long, hard era, in a lot of ways. I always wanted a daughter, and I always wanted a daughter who looked just like me. Not for any narcissistic reasons - it was just the dream of an adopted child, to see my own image reflected in another person.

God answered that prayer.

Baby Missy:

Baby Sissy:

I never, ever prayed for a daughter who acted just like me.

She's a MiniMe, but exaggerated. She looks like me, but much prettier. She's passionate like me, but more passionate. She's verbal like me, but with an uncanny command of the language for a little girl. She's a writer, it's already evident.  She's smarter than I am. She's so, so stinking much smarter.

She is, essentially, all of my good qualities, but better.

But.

She has a temper like me. She has a mouth like me. She loses self control like me. She's bossy like me. She's demanding like me. She is strong willed like me, but stronger. She's much too sensitive, like me. And she's needier than I am, which has caused problems in our relationship from the very beginning, since I am almost always the one she needs.

She is all of my sin parading in front of me constantly. 

And that, I never prayed for. 

I recently told Walker, at the end of an especially hard day, "If Eva Rose and I were dating, we would have broken it off by now. We would both have said, "It's not you, it's me. You're great, really. I just don't think it's working out."

But we're not dating. She's my daughter. She's the result of my prayers and wishes. And, as always, God knew to answer the prayers that I never prayed, but needed. For I can no longer claim to be unaware of my own sin. I can never claim to be ignorant of my own need for the cross. I can never, ever deny my desperation for daily, sometimes hourly, redemption.

She is in my heart. I love her, words cannot express how much I love her.
She is my heart, she is my soul, she is my child.

So for the past five years, instead of just breaking up with her and moving on to an easier relationship, I have had to learn daily to view the ugliness of my own tarnished image. To die to myself, to repent of my selfishness, of my desire to not be needed. To rely on God as a first, not a last, resort. To learn how to give her the love that she needs, how to show grace to a child who is so much like me, without resenting myself in the process.

Some days have been better than others. 

And yesterday, I sent my heart out into the world, the big bad world, hoping, praying that I managed to do something right.

This is going to hurt

This next guest post is from Marla Taviano, whom I love, and with whom I might just have been separated from at birth. Because I could have written almost exactly these words.

I like to be comfortable. I also like to be in control. And while we're at it, I like attention, I want everybody to like me, and I have a great big temper.

Shoot. Why stop now when I'm on a roll? I hardly ever clean my bathrooms. When I feed my family, I sacrifice healthy for cheap. I can be awfully critical. I'm pretty sure I'm almost always right. I have an aversion to the PTA. And I spend hours reading (or napping) on my bed while my kiddos fend for themselves (and watch entire seasons of Full House and Punky Brewster).

And believe me, you're not hearing the half of it (I want people to like me, remember?).

But here's the good news.

I've discovered that God is so big he can work around (and with!) all my crap and still use me anyway. I'm blown away really by how he wields his magic with my weaknesses and total blew-its to somehow get himself some glory. A lot of glory.

It's craziness.

And there's more good news.

I can't quite put a finger on it, but he's been working on my heart BIG TIME lately. See, I've always kind of secretly thought God might have big plans for my life. I mean, let's be real here. I'm smart and funny and write books and have cute kids. It'd be kind of a waste for him not to make something big out of it all, right? (Are you rolling your eyes? You should totally be rolling your eyes.)

So yeah, big, big dreams that all revolve around me and me and ME, ME, ME.

It took 34 long years, but I've finally connected enough of the dots to realize that my perpetual self-centeredness is waaaay off base. God does have big plans. And he's including me in them. But they're HIS big plans and they're for HIM. Happily, I get to come along for the ride.

And what a ride it is. It's fast (except when it's slow). And it's bumpy. And jerky. And is even giving me bruises. A bunch of big, ugly bruises.

Here's the deal. Back in July, my husband Gabe and I spent 10 days in Cambodia (a little country in SE Asia that borders Vietnam and Thailand). It rocked my world, y'all (and no, I'm not from the South, but my beautiful southern bloggy friends have totally sucked me in to mooching their jargon).

Cambodia. Rocked. My. World.

I saw poverty that made my heart ache. I met people and heard stories that ripped my heart in two. At one point, I sat in a renovated building that had once been a child brothel and bawled my eyes out. The new building was beautiful, but the workers had left a reminder of what had been.

Stall #9. An ugly cement structure barely big enough to walk around in. A bed made of slats of wood where a little girl (as young as 5) would stay chained until it was time for her to be used again. As many as 40 times a day.

My girls are 9, 8 and 4. I bawled.

We spent hours and hours with 20 beautiful, rescued children in an orphanage (that our church in Columbus, OH supports). As I held those darling, happy little girls on my lap and hugged their necks, I choked back tears as I thought of what their fate might have been. Would have been.

And this is just one tiny corner of our big, huge world. There is sooooooo much need.

It can't be about me anymore.

It has to be about GOD. And the precious people all across the globe that need him-and food, shelter, love, protection and hope-so desperately.

And it's high time I sacrificed my comfort and control and my "need" for attention and popularity in order that others might have a chance at life and hope.

God is chipping away at my heart. And it hurts and feels really, really good all at the same time. There's way too much to fit into a cute little guest post, and I've been slowly working through some of it over at my blog, but God is yanking on me. And I'm moving. Sure I've got a loooooong way to go, but I can already look back and see a trail of where I've been.

How about you? Are you wondering if maybe there's more to your life than just YOU? Do you think maybe God might have some (or a lot of) work he could do on your heart? But maybe you don't even know where to begin?

I have a place for you to begin.

 

A bunch of us are going to be reading through David Platt's book, Radical, in September and October. I've read it twice in the past month, and it's eating me alive.

You should totally read it with us. It'll hurt (and that's a promise), but it'll feel really, really good too.

Please allow me to cordially and giddily invite you to join us for our Radical Read-Along. We would simply LOVE to have you! Come over here for all the details about how to join us!

And I'd love to hear how God has been chipping away at your heart lately if you're up for sharing.

Thanks for having me, Missy! I love you, beautiful girl!

Pitter Patter Art Giveaway!!

Recently I linked to Laura Kelley at Pitter Patter Art so you could see her precious "twin" boys.

Go look at them again here.

Your heart just melted a little bit, didn't you?

Laura does amazing artwork - check it out here - and contacted me about doing a giveaway. She has just started doing hand-stamped jewelry, and asked if I had a certain bible verse that she could draw from for a bracelet.

Well, you know I do. We're kinda into Ephesians 1:3-14:

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ. For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love he predestined us to be adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will— to the praise of his glorious grace, which he has freely given us in the One he loves. In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God's grace that he lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding. And he made known to us the mystery of his will according to his good pleasure, which he purposed in Christ, to be put into effect when the times will have reached their fulfillment—to bring all things in heaven and on earth together under one head, even Christ.  In him we were also chosen, having been predestined according to the plan of him who works out everything in conformity with the purpose of his will, in order that we, who were the first to hope in Christ, might be for the praise of his glory. And you also were included in Christ when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation. Having believed, you were marked in him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit, who is a deposit guaranteeing our inheritance until the redemption of those who are God's possession—to the praise of his glory.

Out of that verse, Laura came up with this bracelet:

Be. Still. My. Calvinist. Heart.

I am going to have to get me one myself. Maybe I can enter my own giveaway? Hmmm, that wouldn't look suspicious if I won, would it?

Leave a comment here with your favorite bible verse or quote to enter. Make sure you are contact-able, girls, I won't hunt you down. One more entry each if you facebook, tweet, or link.


And guess what - Laura and her family are adopting AGAIN! So check out her other items, all proceeds will go to the Next Kelley fund.

I could buy just about everything she makes. And at some point, I will have me one of these.

I wonder if that would look good in a baby girl's room?

Link love. Walker said to call this 'Internet Potpourri.'

Monday: a giveaway. Whoo hoo!

Till then, I've collected a veritable slew (I do so love the term veritable slew. Kinda sounds like a college kids' garage band, huh?) of links for you lately!

(I'm so sorry you can't right click. I had to disable it because my posts were getting copied. I guess you could open up a lot of windows of this page and then click over on each one?)

I LOVE accents. I love the subtle differences between them. Probably because my dad is a native North Carolinian, NC accents and Texas accents sound almost identical to me. But an Austin accent is different from a Houston accent. And let's not even get started on the East Texas/Arkansas accent. When I lived in London, I frequently mistook Irish girls who had moved to London for Texans. Weird, huh? But this article helps explain why: Did Americans in 1776 Have British Accents?

Must Christians obey the Ten Commandments? The answer may surprise you.

Come on, you know you've fantasized about it: Woman uses dirty diaper in road rage incident

Color photos from 1939-1943: take some time to soak these in. It's time travel. I never realized I thought that people back then - like my mom - lived in black and white until I saw this. Why was I so shocked by blue sweaters and red barns?

Have y'all seen Mila's Daydreams yet? I promise, it will make your day.

Rich or Drive Rich? I tell you what y'all, we're millionaires. I heard about this blog from Dave Ramsey. (Talk about an accent.)

Missing Missy: perhaps the best email forward of all time: I have to say I agree.

Marla Taviano, a modern day hero of the faith: again, I agree!

Rules of parenting. These are some good 'uns.

What is happening to so many kids in Haiti and
Pregnant, Poor and Unprotected
Let's not forget about Haiti, okay? The ground isn't rumbling but the earthquake is far from over. Ignoring the least of these does not make them go away.

Innocence this is beautiful

Piper answers, can a man listen to Beth Moore?

And while we are discussing Miss Beth, y'all saw Melissa's response to the Christianity Today article about her mom, right? If not, please hop over.

Every month ChristianAudio.com gives away a free audio book, and this month it is Tim Keller's Ministries of Mercy, the Call of the Jericho Road. Ready, set, download!!

My favorite recent podcast: The May 12 Freakonomics podcast called "How is a Bad Radio Station Like the Public Schools?" was one of the most fascinating - and encouraging - things I have heard about public education...well...probably ever.

My favorite recent quote:

I pray because the need flows out of me all the time, waking and sleeping. It doesn't change God, it changes me. CS Lewis

And my favorite recent youtube, only it's a vimeo.
Do y'all know Rhema yet?
Her mom died just months before this was produced. This baby girl will bless you, down the the two-front-teeth-missing lisp.

Rhema Marvanne - 'Amazing Grace' REVISED 6/11 from Black Olive Media.com on Vimeo.

Happy Sabbath my friends.

Because the real ones aren't loud enough

The other night, in the middle of the night, I jumped up and ran upstairs, convinced that I heard a child screaming from somewhere in the house.

Everyone was sound asleep.

Does that happen to you?

It happens to me FAR too often, and it reminded me of this post I wrote way back when I was a baby blogger. And Ike was an actual real baby. Instead of a 3 year old who had been put in his room three times before 10:00 am today.

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I had the weirdest thing happen.

All four kids were up eating breakfast. Ingram was playing in his Johnny Jump Up, which he has finally come to enjoy (yippee for baby parkers!)

Suddenly I heard a piercing baby cry come over my baby monitor. I looked around - one, two, three, four, yes, all here - and there it went again. None of mine. We had crossed frequencies with someone else in the neighborhood!

The cry came again. I held it up to my ear and even though the reception was fuzzy, my mommy powers could discern that a daddy somewhere was arguing with a toddler about what was for breakfast. Soon the mom came to referee. Unfortunately, I couldn't quite distinguish most of the words. It was just enough so my nosiness was teased and then...unsatisfied.

In four years, I had yet to experience this until now. It happened to Walker when Shepherd was very new, which got his imagination to work. He used to lie in the dark with me and say things like "What if you heard a voice say hush little baby, shhh over the monitor right now??" Since my inevitable response was "That is SO NOT funny" and a pillow whack, he poured his twisted mind into a very twisted little screenplay that he and a friend are now producing.

It makes me wonder what people have overheard from my house. Yikes.

I hope this is an isolated incident as I hear enough phantom baby cries as it is. The only way I can block them out is to sleep with earplugs, and even that does not always work. Especially if I am trying to nap during the day, I will get up because I am absolutely positive that I heard a cry or a "Mooooommmmmyyyy" coming from somewhere in the house. I investigate and, nada, so I return to bed very grumpy. Like I don't get awaken enough with four kids, now I got an invisible family whining at me.

It was so bad after Maggie was born I seriously began to wonder if I was losing my mind. Fortunately an article came out that week in our local paper which explained the Phantom Baby Cry phenomena. Turns out it is the same as Phantom Phone Ring Phenomena, which is loosely described here.

Basically, your brain is tuned in to high alert for certain sounds, the phone being one of them, and once you become a mom, a baby cry. This is a moms only thing, believe you me. Cause the dad in this house rarely wakes up if it is a real kid. Screaming. In his ear.

Due to intelligent designers at the phone company and in Heaven, these sounds are in a higher decibel range that causes your brain to react more readily and if necessary, wake you up. The problem is that your brain gets a little paranoid I guess and will turn almost any sound in that decibel range into the sound that is the most important.

That's why you think you hear the phone ring when you are blow drying your hair, and why almost any sound in the world will become a child's cry. (For me, the dishwasher was the worst.)

So, if you are a new mom and your ears tell you your baby is crying in the kitchen your eyes say he is perfectly happy in your arms - you're not nuts. Well, you still might be nuts, but at least you're not hearing voices.

It's just one more way that becoming a mom changes everything.

How to help a friend making a life-changing decision

Another guest post! Beth blogs at Not a Bow in Sight. She's mom to three boys, a great singer, and one of my dearest friends. And her son Will and my daughter Maggie are very sweet on each other. I have talked about her here. Please welcome Beth, who discussing what she was going through when we first became friends.

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It was January of 2006 and my maternity leave was over. I got up at 5:30 am to nurse my baby and then got ready for my first day back at work. I carefully packed all my supplies to pump at work, sterilizing everything. My mom arrived promptly at 6:15 to stay with my two children (ages 2 yrs and 3 months) and I made my one hour commute to my job, sobbing all the way.

It was the second time in three years that I’d had to leave my new baby and go back to work. But this time something was different. Something was off. I remember that day so vividly. My friends took me out to a “welcome back lunch” and I couldn’t even eat. I was so sad I had no appetite. I cried every time I went to the little closet where I had a place to pump. I wanted to be home with my children.

I knew in that moment that being home with my children was what I was being called to do. I didn’t know how or when but I knew that God was calling me to stay home and raise my children.

It didn’t make any sense logically. I mean, wouldn’t my BA and MS in accounting be wasted if I stayed at home? Why would I want to give up a well-paying job that I enjoyed (and was pretty good at) and had great benefits? How would we afford it? Would I be bored to death being at home with two children all day long?

The worst part of it all was how isolated I felt. I couldn’t tell anyone at work. I had to pretend I wanted to be there. I didn’t know anyone who’d had a successful career like mine with a lot of earning potential and decided to change diapers and fold laundry instead.

I poured out my heart to God over it and left it safely in his hands. I knew that with Him all things were possible…even the million things that needed to happen before I could come home.

Eighteen months later I gave my two-week notice. And three months after that I found out I was expecting my third child. I was finally able to be home with my new baby. And my journey had just begun.

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In this world where everything is about convenience, personal achievement, and the pursuit of more stuff, it’s difficult to make a decision like I did. My husband and family were very supportive, but in the day-to-day I was mostly alone. I lost touch with my work friends and had to press on with very little outside encouragement. But that’s where God changed me. In the day-to-day of mothering three small children He provided. I had no idea what I was doing (and still don’t at times) but He has been faithful every step of the way.

Maybe you know someone who is making a crucial life changing decision. Perhaps they are making a decision that’s potentially isolating and goes against the grain of expectations in our society. If so, there are a few things you can do to help:

1. Pray for them. Pray that God will continue to guide them as they step out in faith.

2. Encourage them. A person who is doing something difficult needs a lot of encouraging words. The enemy will try to discourage them so they need extra encouragement from those who love them. Even if you don’t understand what they are doing you can still speak words of love over them and to them.

3. Introduce them to others who are making that same decision. It will really help to get connected to others (in my case other moms) who are in their same shoes.

4. Be there when it gets tough. I can’t tell you how amazing it is to have so many family members (and friends now) that I can call upon for advice as I walk this new life out. I am so blessed that I don’t have to do this alone.

What to do for a friend whose parents are divorcing

And now for a "How to Help" post - from my precious friend Megan at SortaCrunchy. Don't let the title of her blog fool you. She left Sorta behind long ago! If you blog, you probably are BFFs with some ladies you've never met. Megan was my first blog friend. I always forget that I have never actually hugged her neck because we email every day and have shared much. She is the anti-Missy in so many ways - which is one of the reasons I adore her so completely.

My parents divorced when I was 19 - and I had zero friends like the ones she describes - this post is dear to my heart.

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It was, by far, the worst Easter Sunday in the history of my family.

My parents had driven down from Oklahoma to central Texas to spend the Easter weekend with us. It was never unusual for there to be tension between my parents. Though that tension had always bubbled at the surface, this weekend was far more intense than most. My husband and sister and I tried to make the best of it, tried to run interference and make peace and purse our lips and ignore the absolute disaster that was brewing.

Before they left town, my dad took me to HEB to pick up a few groceries. That was four years ago last April, and the details are still crisp in my mind. I can remember standing next to my father amongst bags of potato chips and canisters of Pringles. He put his arm around my shoulder and said, “Megan, I want you to know that no matter what happens in the next few weeks, no matter what is said or what is done, I want you to know I love you very much.”

My stomach exploded with anxiety. I swallowed hard and gently pressed for details, but he wouldn’t say anything else.

A few weeks later, just days prior to my parents’ 32nd wedding anniversary, my dad filed for divorce.

I was twenty-eight years old.

* * * * *

Books line the shelves of libraries and bookstores for children whose parents are divorcing. There are children’s books explaining the process, books that gently hold the hands of kids whose worlds are being dismantled. Magazine articles offer counsel to parents and talk shows hosts have long featured experts on childhood offering expert advice on the matter.

Would you like to know what I found for adult children whose parents are divorcing?

I’m not sure what is out there now, but in 2006, there was big. fat. nothing.

And in that void of expert advice, God provided. He provided me with a circle of amazing friends who rallied around me and held my hand as my world was dismantled. As I sit and write and reach back to that devastating season of my life, I’m overcome with gratefulness for the support of my friends.

What did their amazing support look like?

1) They prayed.

Absolutely, unequivocally, the most important and powerful thing my friends did was pray. They prayed with me and they prayed over me. They prayed Scripture and they prayed from their hearts. My parents divorce devastated me, and there is no doubt that the faithful prayer of my friends allowed me to experience security and peace through our Savior.

2) They told me their stories.

A heartbreaking majority of my friends have divorced parents. With compassion and empathy, they offered me their own stories. Some had parents who divorced when they were tiny toddlers, others when they were young adults. Regardless of the timing, it was comforting to hear how my friends were able to heal from the divorce of their parents.

3) They let me grieve.

When your parents divorce when you are a grown-up, it can be oddly isolating. It is reasonable and expected for children to fall apart when parents split up, but an grown child should be able to hold it together, right? Not me. Even though my parents had been hurtling towards a split since I was a child, the reality of it crushed my spirit. My friends let me fully, completely be real with my grief. They comforted me while I sobbed, and never once insinuated that I needed to be a grown-up about the pain I was feeling.

4) They anticipated the hard stuff.

The first Thanksgiving/Christmas/New Years season post-parental-divorce was horrible. Who to see? And when? How to balance it all without hurting anyone’s feelings? My friends showed up with tons of support and been-there-doing-that advice. Each time a new milestone popped up in our New Normal, they somehow sensed that I would be extra needy, extra sensitive, and extra fragile. Their generous outpouring of comfort and love absorbed so much of the shock of that first year after my parents split up.

5) They kept praying.

My friends joined me in praying that this devastating chapter in the life of my family would bring out life-altering change. I prayed. My siblings prayed. My extended family prayed. My friends prayed. My parents' friends prayed. We came before God and asked that hearts would be changed, that wounds would be healed, and that their lives would be restored. And sometimes we even dared to pray for reconciliation.

Hearts changed. Wounds healed. Individually, my mother and my father were restored to wholeness in Christ, and two years after their divorce, my parents reconciled and remarried.

I don't mean to suggest in any way that this will be the outcome for everyone who has prayer warrior friends. Only God can comprehend the Hows and Whys in the this story. What I do know, however, that God did a mighty work through divorce in my life and in the life of my family. I learned hard things, beautiful things, powerful things that I might never have learned without this heartbreak.

Amongst the most significant lessons that I learned during that time was the importance of loving, faithful, supportive friends. As is so often the case where any kind of loss and grief are involved, it's just in the being there that can mean so much. I believe that the Enemy of our sous delights in divorce and the hurt it leaves behind. As a friend to one whose parents are divorcing, you have every opportunity to get back at that ancient serpent just by offering your presence and your prayers.

Megan is a wife and mama of two who now lives on the wind-swept plains of Oklahoma. She writes about faith, mothering, and natural living at SortaCrunchy.