Fear.

I was having a fairly good day today.  I got up this morning, got my children ready for the day, welcomed my two daycare children into my home and headed out to start the day.  I dropped my oldest off at summer day camp and made a stop at Sam's with four kids and survived.  I remembered I needed a can of paint so we stopped off at Lowe's on the way back home.

While they mixed my paint, I pushed the cart loaded with two toddlers and called for the two other walkers to follow after me as I made my way to the home organization aisle.  The kids played a small game of tag on the aisle as I sized up the shelf liner like it was the most important decision I was ever going to make. All was completely normal and serene in that moment.

And then it happened.

The lights in the whole Lowe's store suddenly went out.  It was pitch black.  Black.  I could see absolutely nothing at all.  And I immediately panicked.  I can't explain it, but it instantly felt like I was in the middle of WWIII and no one was getting out alive.  I knew my two littles were safe in the cart, but I reached out to touch them all the same as I began calling the names of the older two.  They had been right there only seconds before, but they suddenly seemed miles away.  The youngest of the older two didn't answer the first three times I called his name, but finally did when I raised my voice and he heard my desperation.  I commanded them to grab on to the buggy and I began to push forward to the front of the building.  All I could think to do was make it to the doors and get out.  As I pushed forward, I felt my cart hit something in the aisle and then heard a large thud and splash.  A liquid rushed over my feet and by the smell, I could tell I had hit a display of household cleaner.  Still, I pushed on.

Finally, I reached the front of the store and the light that came through from the outside was like a lifeboat to me.  I could breathe again. I checked the kids.  Miraculously, no one had gotten sprayed even a little by the crash with the cleaner. Once everyone was cleared okay, I looked around and noticed that no one else was panicking.  Some were laughing.  Some were annoyed.  One salesperson even continued his pitch to a customer about some new and exciting product, but I was the only one whose heart was pounding ninety miles an hour.

Soon, the lights came back on and I went back to the paint counter to get my paint, payed and made tracks out of there.  Safe in my car, tears started to well up in my eyes and I just wanted to be at home in my bed.  Fear had gotten the best of me again.

I've always struggled with fear.  My parents went on a trip when I was young and while they were gone there was a volcano eruption somewhere.  In my little mind, I equated them being gone with the volcano erupting and I began to have panic attacks at seven.  Throughout my adolescence, I managed them pretty well.  They would only come on when I heard about or thought about the end of the world or about the expanse of the universe or eternity.  Those thoughts were too big for me to wrap my mind around so I would begin to panic until I could get my mind off of them.

Then, in the fall of 2001, I had hit my limit emotionally with some stress and physical ailments I was going through.  I began to show signs of depression and anxiety.  I was battling through it when I woke up one morning to turn on a safe HGTV show, only to find EVERY channel showing live feed of the World Trade Center burning.  Immediate panic went off like a siren in my brain.  I called my dad and he told me where I could find my mom.  I dressed quickly and drove with shaky hands to where she was and stayed by her side for two weeks.  Though I walked around like an upright person, in my mind, I was burrowed down in a bunker, waiting for the world around to cave in on us all.

These panic attacks continued on like this with random triggers for almost eight more years.  Somewhere in 2009, Jesus healed me of the attacks and I walked away from them free.  But, Fear is no dummy.  He knows he can't come back where Jesus has staked His claim, but he will do his best to poke at your weak spots.  And he does that to me frequently.  He tries to get me down in the exact place of my freedom.

So today, as I sat in the parking lot, Frozen playing in the background for the millionth time, and tears running down my face, I thought, "Stupid terrorists.  I'll never be able to trust that things are going to be okay in the face of danger because of them."  I cried a little more with that thought repeating in my head, until it dawned on me.  Every single time I panic in a scary situation, I give them power.  I give Fear power.  I shuck the Power that is at work within me and cling to lies.  I choose lies over Truth.  And Fear wins.  Not because terrorists flew planes into buildings, but because I don't stand on the Truth of the Word and tell Fear to shut up.

Those thoughts filling my mind made the tears instantly stop flowing and I felt alive again.  Stupid Fear.  He must not know Who he's dealing with.

A Ram in the Thicket

I'm sure I've shared before a portion of my testimony when we were knee deep in the trials of infertility.  Technically, I guess we are still infertile as I have not had any children from my body, but I wouldn't describe us as in the trials of it now.  Happy children's voices tend to drown out the pain of trials.  There was a time, though where pain was my common denominator in life and I clung to it rather than seeking joy.  I've never experienced being so far from the Lord and yet held so tightly in His arms like that time.  I pushed Him away, doubted, feared and questioned Him while He pursued, blessed, loved and spoke to me in His great mercy over and over.  It was one of those times when my behavior did not warrant His mercy, but He gave it anyway that I was reminded of tonight.

It was at the point in our story where we were deciding how to proceed with this infertility thing.  We had options, they said.  There's always options.  Medications were the least invasive and then we could move up the scale venturing into needles and petri dishes and there was always surrogacy too.  It was quite overwhelming and scary.  I tried the meds for a while and the least troublesome side effect was my crazy mood swings.  Not a fun experience for an already grieving and heartbroken girl.  After a few months with no avail, the doctor asked where we wanted to go from there.

As I've said, I wasn't in a great place spiritually.  I wasn't seeking the Lord.  I wanted a fix to my problem, not His presence.  I had asked someone to pray for my healing and was basically told God didn't heal like He did in the Bible anymore.  In my ignorance then, I believed them and abandoned the hope that God would change things for us.  I was alone and I thought we had to make this decision by ourselves.  One day, I was wrestling in my mind about it and the story of Sarah and Abraham popped in my mind.  You know the one...Sarah is 80 and barren and Abraham is 90 and the Lord tells them to get ready because they're going to have a son.  Abraham laughs.  Sarah laughs.  Then, ten years later, Sarah has a son.  Their laughter turns to joy.  I wanted to cling to that promise like it was for me.  Lord, are you telling me I will carry a child too???  Almost instantly, another part of their story came to my mind.  In between the time the Lord had originally promised Abraham and Sarah that they would have a child to when they finally did, Sarah began to get anxious.  She doubted God and started to take matters into her own hands.  In Bible times, that played out as Sarah convincing her husband to get one of her own servant girls pregnant.  That wouldn't go over well nowadays, but Sarah. Was. Desperate.  Abraham did what Sarah told him to and a son was born, but the problem was, he wasn't the one God had promised and no one had let God in on the change of plan.  He wasn't changing His end of the bargain at all.

As soon as I recounted that story in my mind, the merciful Spirit of the Lord spoke straight to my heart that FOR US (no judgement to anyone else making other choices), to go forward with any of the treatment options available to us was to step out from under God's promise and plan for us.  He was going to do this His way.  Peace flooded my soul for the first time in years and I shared what God had said to me with Jason.  He agreed that we should obey and we never went back to an infertility doctor again. 

As we waited for God to "do His thing" in our lives, God used other parts of Abraham and Sarah's story to speak to me as well.  After they finally had their son and when he was still young, God asked Abraham to take his son Isaac to the mountain and sacrifice him.  Every parent can feel that gut wrenching pain Abraham must have felt.  But, he was obedient and took Isaac, bound him and when his knife was raised above him, Abraham heard the Lord say STOP, and he looked in the thicket nearby and there was a ram stuck there that God had provided for him to sacrifice instead.  The Lord taught me through that scene that following Him means laying down my plans, my dreams, my desires and following after Him with all I have, knowing I can trust Him with my most precious treasures.  I had to come to the place where I could willing lay down my desires for a family, not expecting anything in return, trusting that God's heart for me is good. 

Fast forward to today when I had my sewing machine pulled out making matching Thanksgiving shirts for my three littles.  I had decided on using some scrap material in the shape of each of their initial with turkey faces on them.  Before putting on the turkey faces, I laid out each initial to size it up from my oldest child to the youngest and there, spelled out in front of me was God's promise and provision He has been teaching me for around fourteen years now.

I laughed out loud like Sarah did all those years ago.  God has done GREAT things for me.  He has kept His promises to me and made provision for me in ways I would have never dreamed.  He has provided (and continues to provide) a "ram" in the thicket for me.  He is trustworthy and faithful and above all, He is GOOD.

And Abraham lifted up his eyes and looked, and behold, behind him was a ram, caught in a thicket by his horns. And Abraham went and took the ram and offered it up as a burnt offering instead of his son. So Abraham called the name of that place, “The Lord will provide”; as it is said to this day, “On the mount of the Lord it shall be provided.” 

^{Genesis 22:13-14 ESV}

^{He gives the barren woman a home making her the joyous mother of children.}  

^{Praise the Lord!}

^{Psalm 113:9 ESV}

^{Dear friends....the Lord is not slow in keeping His promises...}

^{Based on 2 Peter 3:8-9}

The I'll Nevers and the God Who Blows Them Out of the Water

During the years of 1999 through 2009, I said on countless occasions that I would NEVER move back to Abilene.  Having spent a year and a half in an Abilene university and snagging the man of my dreams for a husband, I was quite content to live out what I knew-busy city life in a huge metroplex.  And that's just what we did.  We lived close to my family, made family-like friends and enjoyed the fun of living in a city where there is always something to do.  Then, in the summer of 2009, God lit a spark of possibility that we should infact, move to Abilene.  Sigh.  I left my family, my dear friends, my huge shopping mall and green grass and trees and we followed where He led.  And it has been, for the most part, glorious!

I find that I make these I'll Never statements more frequently then I care to admit.  Like, 'I'll never yell at my kids" or "I'll never let my kids eat chicken nuggets in the backseat while watching a movie when we are only going to Walmart simply because I need the peace and quiet".  Clearly, the me who said those things hadn't met the me that lived out the opposite.  Whether in big or small things, I have ideas about how life is supposed to go for myself and nine times out of ten, those ideas are in direct conflict with the heart of God for me.

Jason and I have always said that we would NEVER foster children, just for the sake of fostering.  Once we started adopting, our intent has been to join children to our forever family.  We knew that we could never allow a child to come into our home and then watch them leave one day.  Nope, fostering was too risky.  We very carefully allowed ourselves to obey when we were called to receive our youngest daughter last year through the Foster system.  We were comforted that her situation seemed ideal for adoption, but in the system, nothing is guaranteed.  Our worst fears were realized when early on things seem to go off track for us to adopt her.  Still, God has been faithful to His promises, even amidst my fears and anxiousness.  Last week, she officially crossed over from a foster placement to an adoptive placement and we are looking forward to her adoption finalization in the next few months.  Whew!  We made it through that!  Now, we thought, we'll NEVER do fostering again until we are done adding to our family.

Enter again, the God who likes to blow my I'll Nevers out of the water.  Through a series of events, He has brought us in relationship to a two year old little boy who needs a foster home.  My strong, keeps-his-emotions-under-wraps hubby, melted at the first meeting of this little guy.  And the little spark from the heart of God started again in our hearts.  Would you share your home with this little boy, even for a short time, if I ask you to? I'd like to say that immediately we jumped up and down, thrilled to our core to obey, but we are a bit more like our children at times.  Obedience doesn't often come easily or with a smile on our faces.  We prayed and weighed and asked and thought.  We crunched numbers and analyzed our kids and at the end of the day, we faced the real question.  Is there anything that is too much for us to do if God Himself asks us to do it? 

I often think of Mother Theresa. I'm not Catholic, but I think for our culture, Mother Theresa represents an unattainable, sacrificial living for others.  This dear woman, compelled by the love that she had been given from God, gave up her creature comforts and worldly desires to serve the lowest of the low in places most of us dare not go.  I think of her and resolve that I certainly could not do what she did.  Thankfully, I don't think God is asking me to, but her life begs the same question.  Is there anything that is too much for me to do if God Himself asks me to do it?  I think if Mother Theresa could answer for herself, she would say that how she lived her life was but a small offering in return of what she had received.  Her sacrifice, so large to us, pails in comparison to the sacrifice her Savior had made for her.

The same is true for us.  I have been Redeemed.  Rescued.  Bought with a price.  Given freedom beyond my comprehension.  Is there not a way that I can offer a warm bed to a child in need though my heart and my comfort be put on the line? And with that, we are doing something we said we'd never do--we are becoming Foster parents without a scope for adoption.  As the days get closer for him to join us, we are getting more and more giddy!  That's what Jesus does.  He gives you the opportunity to follow Him in adventure and then let's you have the butterflies of excitement along the way like you're on your very first amusement park ride.  Honestly, following after Him is getting pretty addictive.

Our new boy will be here November 4th and we are busy about sharing the news with our family and the people we do life with and preparing our home for his arrival.  It's a fun and crazy time.  As we share the news, there is sometimes applause that comes from people thrilled by what we're doing.  But, those applause are not for us.  We're not the stars.  This is about Jesus.  He's the star of this show.  This has been His idea from the beginning.  It was He that brought a bouncy blonde toddler to us seven and a half years ago.  It was He that delivered a three day old miracle to our literal doorstep last year.  And it is He that has sewn a love in our hearts for a boy so polar opposite of us that we aren't able to contain ourselves.  He gets the applause.  He has rescued us-- now, we make MUCH of Him.

Daddy's Girl

I'm a daddy's girl.  And not in the way that I wasn't a mama's girl too.  I just really love my daddy in a world where girls crave the attention of their dads and then push them away in spite of themselves.  I'm such a daddy's girl that while I have a lot of friends who comfortably refer to God as "Daddy" or "Papa", I have struggled with this for myself.  I love God with all my heart, but I treasure the man who is my daddy.  It's this kind of devotion that is the basis for my heartache the last eleven years since my daddy passed away.

I think about him and his loss a lot.  I don't audibly talk about it that much, but I think about it at least daily.  This morning has been no different.  I found myself thinking about the growth that I've had spiritually and as a person since he left.  Some of that growth, I fear, came directly because of his loss in my life.  That stirs even more sadness in my heart. 

And so I said to God,

I wish I had been more together, more mature.  That I didn't need to learn so many lessons that have come from his passing.  Maybe if I had already gotten all of that, You wouldn't have had to take him when you did. 

Holy Spirit immediately responded, "I am the designer of all things.  I work everything out for good.  There is nothing that you could've or should've done." 

Still, I pressed Him, I wish that I was the apple of Your eye. 

"You are.  I've told you that a million times."

No, I mean, I wish I was the star pupil at the front of the class.  Having it all together, knowing all the answers.  I'm the one with wrinkled paper in the back looking for my dropped pencil.

"I don't have a class of students, Sweetie.  I have children, whom I love and adore.  You can't perform well enough to have anything all together.  I've got it together for you.  You can't know anything already because I reveal myself to you as you press into Me."

It's here that I sink into the love that He's poured over me many times before and also here where I realize that the daddy that I love so dearly, learned all his good daddy-ing ways from the real and true Daddy. 

I'm extremely blessed to be in the legacy of both.

The Day I Would Do Over

I've talked before about how I don't really do regrets.  I don't like them.  I try to learn from my past mistakes and move forward.  Like updating my blog more often, but I digress.  This morning though, I was thinking about something our pastor talks about occasionally.  He calls them mulligans, which is a fancy golf term I don't understand that simply means, do over.  When you get a mulligan, you get a do over.  I'm sure there are many things in my life where a do over would come in handy, but today only one came to mind.

It was in the fall of 2001.  It was actually September 12, 2001.  I was not in a good place.  I had been struggling with panic and anxiety attacks for a couple of weeks and when I had awakened the day before, I began to spiral almost out of control.  To a person already struggling with anxiety, three planes flying into buildings and our nation being attacked doesn't make anything better.  So, for whatever reason, even though I was twenty-two and married, my mom felt like my safe place.  For several weeks, I didn't leave her side.  I went everywhere with her and on September 12th, I was with her and my grandmother (MeMaw) at MeMaw doctor's appointment. 

When we got called back to the exam room and finally saw the doctor, MeMaw began telling him about her back pain.  She was already in her seventies at that time and had raised four children, worked on a dairy farm for a good portion of her life, lived through two strokes, back and other surgeries and in the next few years would live through a brain aneurysm so we wouldn't have made a trip to the doctor simply because she had slept wrong the night before or something.  Still, the doctor was arrogant and rude and didn't really want to listen to my MeMaw or the pain she was describing.  He never looked her in the eye until he had enough of her talk.  When he did stare straight at her, he grabbed her not-all-that-big belly and shook it at her a bit and said "This, Mrs. Tucker, is the source of your back pain.  Get rid of this and your pain will go away." Turning away to write on the chart, my mom and I noticed the shame and hurt come across MeMaw's face as she lowered it to look down at what he had diagnosed as a problem.  After a few seconds and the initial shock wore off of us, I remember strong words coming from my mom to the doctor, but she was soon dismissed as well and he left the room.  Mom tried to comfort MeMaw, but the damage had been done and we left the office, MeMaw in a different kind of pain than when she had arrived.

When I think back about that day, I would use a mulligan there.  I would be in a different frame of mind; not afraid of my own shadow.  The part of me that is still being transformed would stand up and give a swift uppercut with my elbow to that doctor's jaw (in a mostly metaphorical way) and we would parade MeMaw out of there in triumph over the cruelness of a rotten man.  And even as I type this I realize how opposite this scene is from the way I was brought up.

Growing up in church you are taught about the virtues of being meek, mild and slow tempered.  I don't disagree with those virtues at all.  I wish I had more of them.  But, when you look at Jesus' character, it's hard to ignore that He was also a bit feisty at times.  In his book Beautiful Outlaw, John Eldredge described Jesus as having fierce intention.  Consider John 2:13-17:

¹³ The Passover of the Jews was at hand, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. ¹⁴ In the temple he found those who were selling oxen and sheep and pigeons, and the money-changers sitting there. ¹⁵ And making a whip of cords, he drove them all out of the temple, with the sheep and oxen. And he poured out the coins of the money-changers and overturned their tables. ¹⁶ And he told those who sold the pigeons, “Take these things away; do not make my Father's house a house of trade.” ¹⁷ His disciples remembered that it was written, “Zeal for your house will consume me.”

Did you catch that?  Jesus got REALLY angry.  He was so angry that He didn't act on it right away, but rather He went off and made a whip to really show off His anger.  Meek and mild? No.  Righteously angered and taking charge? Yes!  

Just like the time with MeMaw, the places in my life where I could really use a do over is when I have either a) blown my top in an unbecoming way or b) passively sat by and watched unlovable things be done to lovable people. Jesus didn't do this.  He started with holding God and His word as non-negotiables and nothing to be cheapened.  Then He stood up and defended the defenseless and the lonely and abused all with calculated words and actions cutting to the very root of sin and pain. 
The truth is, MeMaw is dancing in Heaven today with a new body and I'm pretty sure, remembers nothing about that day in the doctor's office.  Going back and living out my do over fantasy would do nothing to add or subtract from the eternal joy she is experiencing right now.  But, here's my goal:  I want to be like Jesus.  That's it.  Sure, I want to be a great wife and mother, I want to do great things in the Kingdom, maybe be fantastically good at something before I die, but absolutely none of that is worth anything if it doesn't resemble Jesus. I want to be good and kind and honorable like He is, but I also want to be calculating and strong like He is in the face of injustice.  As my days increase, I want there to be less situations where I would like a do over and more and more where people can see Jesus in me, taking calculated steps to stand up for injustice in the poor, in the lonely, in the forgotten faces of this world.  Jesus didn't need any mulligans and I don't want to need them either.

Tough Love For A Flat Head

Tuesday I took our sweet baby girl to her 4 month check up. All is fine except she's beginning to develop a flat head. Ask my mother and she'll blame this generation's rule not allowing tummy sleep, but the doctor said she needs more awake tummy time. At 4 months, she hasn't rolled over yet and screams so the Russians can hear when I put her on her tummy time play mat. Ten minutes of screaming twice a day won't hurt her, says the doc. So I come home and attempt to suffer through ten minutes watching the poor girl scream.

As I'm watching her wailing little body with one eye and the other on the clock, I began to ache with her, so identifying with that pain. It seemed familiar to me, seeing her kick and scream, helpless to get out on her own. The worst part I think, was that she knew I was there watching her. Why wasn't I saving her from this misery, she must have thought.

The scene seemed familiar to me because I'm on my own tummy time play mat right now. This whole situation with her birth father and the uncertainty of who will be her forever parents is nauseatingly similar. I couldn't be more powerless to get us out of this situation. In fact, every attempt from my tenacious personality to fix this has been shut down. I've been forced to rely solely on my prayers, the ferocious prayers of my friends and family and the steadfast love of The Lord. What??? Rely on Him alone?! But, I'm so used to fixing things with His help on the side. That's the way I like it. That's what's comfortable. This way hurts. Really bad.

And so my cycle each day is wake up fighting anxiety and fear, beg The Lord to take this away, cry, declare His goodness, fight anxiety and fear, beg The Lord to take this away, cry...I think you see the pattern. This gets particularly exhausting while taking care of four kids and a home.

And sometimes the worst part is knowing that He's there with me, watching me, aching for me, but won't save me. I want to be angry at Him. I want to scream! But, I know He's a much better Daddy then I am a Mommy and he doesn't want me to have a spiritual flat head anymore than I want my sweet baby to have a physical one. He knows that pain for a little while yields victory for eternity and He won't rob me of that victory because I'm uncomfortable with pain.

Honestly, right now, the understanding of this doesn't make it better. I'm still desperate for Him every moment and continue to beg Him to move mountains and shake the ground so we can raise this beautiful girl as our own. But seeing His perspective in a natural way does remind me of His vast love for me and I know His heart has only good for me.

When Tomato Sauce Hits the Floor

It's been a wild day...and it's only 3:06 pm.  This morning, I woke up, fed the baby, welcomed my daycare child, got dressed, fed the baby, changed the baby, dressed the baby, put the baby to sleep, cleaned our room, scrubbed our bathroom, put away some laundry, fed the baby, changed the baby, loaded car seats, took three munchkins to the post office, mailed my Christmas cards, stopped at the ATM and met my hubby for lunch...with three munchkins.  That was all by 12pm.  You should stop and note here that in the above list you did NOT see "loaded and turned on crockpot" because, well, it didn't happen even though it should have. So, at 1pm, I went on a mad dash to get the crockpot loaded and turned on hoping that the dish that is supposed to cook on low for six hours will be just as good cooking on high for three hours.  This mad dash led me to a true moment.

While browning ground meat and measuring oregano, I began opening a can of tomato sauce.  I guess I misjudged my counter space because as the opener unlocked the last little bit of lid, the whole can fell over and spilled on the floor.  No wait.  It splattered on the floor.  Nope.  It exploded all over the floor, cabinet and drawers below.  Nice.  It looked pretty spiffy next to the whole diced onion I had dropped a few minutes before off the opposite counter.  And to make matters worse, as I went to clean it up, my phone rang with an important call from our foster/adopt agency that I have been waiting for since Friday.  I had to answer it. 

Twenty-five minutes later, I'm riding another roller coaster of emotion and trying to make sense of what-in-the-world is going on with this case now?!  I went to type a quick email to our caseworker and decided to leave a voicemail instead.  I contemplated sitting at my computer and screaming and decided against it so, I walked into the kitchen and saw that not only was there tomato sauce still EVERYWHERE, but the already tardy crockpot, had still not been turned on. 

I raced to get the final things in the pot (including a spare tomato sauce) and flipped the switch to high.  Now to tackle the spilled sauce, which by now has become BFF's with the floor and refuses to be separated with a simple paper towel.  This clean-up job required me to be on my hands and knees scrubbing.  I went all in and as I did, the emotional roller coaster from today's case drama decided to come racing to the surface.  I was on my knees, bowed down and...crying.  Then I heard sweet Holy Spirit say, "You're at my feet anyway.  Why don't you just lay it down?" 

In a swift second, I knew why the tomato sauce had spilled in the first place and I was wrecked.  I ended up laying down on the clean spot below me and crying my guts out to the Lord.  "Move Heaven and Earth, Lord.  Shift the heavenlies and the spiritual realm.  Protect my baby from harm.  But whatever you do, Lord, take this from me because I need you.  I'm laying it down, again."

There are most often times in my life that things spill on the floor, stuff hits the fan or I lose control and I use those situations as ammo for my anger, fear and rebellion.  And then there are days like today, when I find that Jesus will meet me in the place of my brokenness and need even if it's in the middle of an explosion of tomato sauce.  For His presence anywhere, I am so grateful.


To our amazing prayer partners, please continue to pray!  Cry out to the Lord on our baby girl's behalf and ask God to speak to each party involved for clear direction from Him.  Please pray for utmost protection for our baby girl and for a quick resolution to this case in her favor.  Pray against confusion and fear.  There is stuff happening and we KNOW that the Lord bends His ear to listen so we will pray as long as we have breath (Psalm 116:2) We are so thankful for your commitment to pray with us.

It's All Relative

Recently, we got an insurance settlement that enabled us to replace the floors in 75% of our house that previously had old, damaged, pink tile.  I have never liked that tile.  Combine the age and the relentless West Texas dirt and wind, it was just hard to keep clean.  I would find myself complaining about it from time to time throughout the years and then almost immediately be reminded of the sweet ladies in Mexico who sweep their dirt floors in their one room houses each day.  My discomfort is only relative to my prosperity.

It happens in a lot of areas if we stop and think about it.  I like watching home buying television shows, but when the family says, "Oh, we couldn't possibly get by without three bathrooms...granite counter tops....a pool..." I think, really?  Millions of people all over the world get by with a lot less than an out house.  Relative.

I don't think that having nice things or desiring beautiful things is bad.  I just think that we tend to measure what "need" by what we think we should have, not really what we actually need or even deserve for that matter.

This struggle comes out in me in non-materialistic ways too.  I have really found myself judgmental and envious of anybody I see recently with a baby.  They don't know me at all or what we're dealing with right now and yet I am secretly angry at them inside because they don't have to worry about the possibility of losing their child.  I read a blog the other day about a young mother facing a big disappointment in her life and I thought, "Big deal.  No one is telling you they might take your babies from you."  Yucky thoughts from my true heart.  More proof that I desperately need more grace and gentle transformation from my merciful Savior. 

But, in true merciful style, He is gentle when reminding me about all the mothers in the world holding babies carrying cancer and other diseases or the poor, sweet mothers carrying children in their womb they know will pass away shortly after birth.  How do they look at me laughing and playing with my little lambs and reconcile their situation?  It's all relative.

I don't know how to change the way this happens in me or anyone else.  I look to Jesus, the most sincere, kind, loving, strong and giving person to walk this earth.  I have to believe that because He was all God and all man, He knew from the moment He started His ministry (maybe earlier?) that He was going to die.  And yet, He spent three years pouring into ungrateful, shaky-faithed men and loving everyone He met with wild abandon.  I want to be like Him.  If I was Him, I would have been running around yelling at everyone, "You're hungry?! I'm going to die for YOU!  What do you think of that?!?!" Wise choice, God, on not making me the Savior of the world. 

My desires, prayers, wants, needs, hopes and dreams are all relative to where I live, what I have and really, who I am.  May I live each day remembering that circumstances do not define me, there are always others who are hurting more than me, and loving and giving my life for others makes looking like Jesus a little more relative to me.

A Thankful Heart Is a Happy Heart

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving and we do have a lot to be thankful for.  Confession: the stress of our current situation with M&M baby leaves me more anxious than thankful, I'm sad to say.  There are things I KNOW in my brain like, God is faithful.  He didn't bring us to this point to leave us here.  He loves M&M and us more than we can imagine and has good in His heart for us.  I can't add a single second to my life by worrying.  BUT, in the moments of my day, I find myself analyzing every word spoken by the powers that be in the case and angling each potential moves from each player like I'm in the chess match of my life.  It's exhausting.  So today, I just want to be thankful.  I just want to relish in the moments that God has given us NOW.  As I type, I have two beautiful girls entrusted to me.  One is on the verge of young womanhood with bright eyes each day learning more and more.  Another is literally finding her feet...and her tongue...and her voice and discovering all that she has in this exciting world.  Both have the biggest smiles that melt mine and their daddy's heart.  I am thankful for a husband who works hard for his family, who fights for them fearlessly, who stands up in the face of anything or anyone that would oppose them and who admits when he's wrong and seeks to do better next time.  I am thankful for the opportunity to be thankful and to be in circumstances that draw me to trust more and more in my Savior.

Below is one of my favorite songs.  Yes, it's a Veggie Tale song. But, around our house, we try to sing it often to remind us that we have all we need today to be thankful.  Enjoy and Happy Thanksgiving!

Taken For Granted

Have you ever thought about the things you take for granted in your life? I thought about some of those things today. I live my life everyday doing much the same things each one of those days and most of the time I barely give a nod to the bigger-than-me miracles that are the wallpaper of my life.

For instance, since today is voting day, I realized how often I forget what a privilege it is to be free. It's not really a right. Someone set me free, both in nationality and spiritually. But I go in and out of my world, demanding my way in parking lots and customer service calls and the like ignoring the fact that I can speak out loud at all.

Then, I realized how much I take for granted that my daughter is mine-no one is going to take her away from me or lay claim to her. Only five years out from the best day of my life when a judge declared her ours, I barely remember the the time when I held my breath round the clock day in and out praying with all I was to have her be mine forever.

And finally, I realized today how much I take the tangible presence of Holy Spirit for granted. Sitting in a court room today, overcome with anxiety that I thought would swallow me, I called out to Him pleading to feel Him there with me, to know that I wasn't alone. At that moment I looked up at the American and Texas flags that flanked the judge's bench. On the top perched two golden eagles. I was immediately reminded about the eagle's story my dear friend Mindy had shared with me many times. Eagles, Mindy says, aren't like any other creature in nature. When a storm comes, instead of turning for shelter away from it, the eagle will go toward the storm, pressing through the storm clouds until the winds lift their wings high above the clouds where they can soar.  They use the storm to their benefit to get to the high place and then watch it from above, relaxing in their natural flight.  Those golden eagles on the flag poles were Holy Spirit's sign He was with me, giving me strength to press above the storm and soar in His peace.  How do I ever take such a gift for granted?

I don't want to take the power of prayer for granted either.  Prayer changes things, this I believe with my whole heart.  Over and over in the Word, God instructs us to pray and petition Him for the things on our heart.  He is not a Father who doesn't hear or care and just like the "petition" of my children, wanting something, we are to plead with Him, bringing our requests to Him regularly.  If you would join us in these petitions, here are the things we are pleading before the Lord right now:

• The He would permanently establish our M&M baby in this family.
• That He would give us His peace and sustain us through this roller coaster of emotions we face each day.
• That He would use this time to grow us in His likeness, teaching us how to give Him glory and praise in all things.
• That He would work miraculously in the hearts and minds of birth families, judges, attorneys and case workers that are involved in this case to do His will for the glory of His name.
• That our M&M baby would be consecrated to Him all the days of her life, no matter which home she grows in and that she would love Him and live her life for His glory.
• That our precious Raylen would be guarded and protected from the emotional ups and downs as we navigate this road.

Thank you for partnering with us.  We are grateful for you and don't take for granted the support and friendship that we are covered in during this time.

Support in the Prep

One of the things I am very passionate about when it comes to adoption is a strong support system for each family.  Unlike a usual pregnancy, adoptions most often take more than a year to complete and some go well beyond that.  Aside from the piles of paperwork and the training time specific to each style adoption, there is very often little to know preparation time for the new child.  In our technology driven world where pregnant mothers can know the gender of their child, see their actual facial features before birth and schedule their delivery dates, the adoptive parent rarely knows any of this including the specific age of their child.

One of the main reasons it is so important for an adoptive family to have a strong support system around them is because of the general unknowing of it all.  Aside from offering support with the ups and downs emotionally, the financial commitment and the toll on marriages and siblings, supporters can take much of the stress off of a family by helping with the preparations for the new arrival.  Here's some ideas how support in the prep might look:

• Offer to help paint and/or set up the nursery/bedroom.  Many times an adoptive family is so engulfed in the details of paperwork that the "fun stuff" can be pushed to the side or left to an inconvenient time--like the day the child is coming! For a family hoping for an infant especially after struggling with infertility, a supporter who offers to help with preparation of the nursery helps to make the process seem more real for the family and helps to simulate the traditional idea of nesting for expectant moms.  For families adopting toddlers and older, an inviting room is an important way to welcome that child and make them feel at home.  It helps to reduce fears and bond them in their new home.
• Throw a party!  Everyone loves a party and adoptive families are no different!  Brides and expectant moms everywhere are usually showered with fun parties and gifts.  Supporters can offer this same gift to adoptive parents that actually addresses two important needs: Gifts help the family afford all of the new items needed for the child and it also shows a huge measure of support to have friends and family celebrating the new arrival with the family. 
• Don't underestimate the value of your excitement shared with an adoptive family. While outsiders can't see with their eyes the transformation growing within the family, make no mistake, there is a transformation happening!  Similar to a pregnant mother, an adoptive mother often finds herself preoccupied and day dreaming of the new family member.  And like most expectant fathers, adoptive dads are usually silently weighing their fears and responsibilities that come with this change.  Supporters shouldn't be afraid to call or ask the family frequently how things are going or for updates on their progress.  As much as possible, an adoptive family wants to know that their loved ones are excited with them and care about the huge change that is happening to their family.

We are very fortunate to have an amazing group of supporters that have and continue to take such good care of us during this process.  Here are some ways they helped us with the preparation for our little bundle.

 My mom came the day after our licensing was completed and worked LONG hours making the nursery bedding.

 My wonderful friends from our lifegroup were so generous to throw us a beautiful vintage inspired baby shower. It was perfect! I had such a fun time!

 After we got our baby, my forever friends from my hometown got together for afternoon sip and see.  My mom made delicious treats and my BFF Christie hosted us in her home and organized an enormous gift basket of goodies from several friends.  I can't show a lot of photos because the baby is in them, but here I am in a Christi(e) sandwich!

While we were visiting my hometown, we visited my aunt and uncle and three of my cousins were able to come meet M&M.  Again, can't show alot of pics, but here's my cousin Emily chowing down at the party :) 

There are SO many other ways that we were supported during our prep for baby that I don't have photos for.  Countless times we were prayed over, called, hugged and encouraged.  One of the major ways came when got the call for our baby just one day after starting the process to replace the tile ALL through our house!  Mighty men from our lifegroup and beyond dedicated many hours and backbreaking labor to finish our floors in record time.  We couldn't have made it without them!

Thanks to everyone who is in our beloved support system.  We are so grateful for your presence in our life!!!

What's DNA got to do with it

I had to take our M&M baby to get a DNA test done last week.  The test in and of itself was fairly easy, but it got me thinking about a lot of things.  I came to the conclusion that there are more important things than DNA in many areas of life.

For instance, I recall all of the MANY years of struggling with infertility and childlessness and the many well-meaning friends and family who would try to persuade us to try something new to solve our fertility issues.  We of course heard the normal IVF ideas, but acupuncture, surrogacy and even visiting the statue of a fertility goddess were all mentioned for us to try.  My favorite so-called solution suggestion came from an OB nurse I knew from teaching her daughter in preschool.  She suggested that my still fertile mother and my husband mix DNA in a test tube and then I carry the offspring of my husband and mother.  That way, she said, the child would still have my DNA.  Wouldn't I be carrying my sibling/step-child???

No, we heard early on from the Lord that none of these paths were for us to follow and He even had us steer clear of some more easy and accepted paths.  When we would carefully explain our position to questioning loved ones, we often heard the response that didn't we want a child that looked like us, had our DNA?

At breakfast this morning, I sat across my very lively eight year old daughter.  Even though I didn't meet her until she was almost two, so much life has happened to and between us that I don't remember her not being mine.  I have no knowledge of what it feels like to have a person growing inside of you and yet, it feels like I have a memory of her being there.  It is the weirdest thing.  Looking at her across the table this morning, I had to physically make myself remember that she doesn't share my DNA.  It was confusing for me.

I often hear the same language we heard from our loved ones coming from those grappling with adoption.  They say they want to see what their offspring would look like and they want to know their child is "theirs".  These words confuse me just the same as I was this morning.  I have learned first hand that DNA isn't the end all be all.  No, DNA is the mud that God uses to make up these bodies that carry the very soul and breath that He gives each of us.  The Bible says He made us in His image so don't we carry His DNA in the marrow of our souls? 

Right now, there are people who make claims on children they've never met and can't care for simply because they share DNA.  In the meantime, there are those of us who bathe and feed, sing and pray over, tickle and rock, kiss and hold those same little lives and pour our own hearts into them, all without a drop of matching DNA.  Which deposit is making more of a mark on their hearts and lives?

I have strong DNA.  I look very much like both my mom and my dad.  My little brother is a spitting image of my dad at his age and we often comment on that.  We were excited to see that my other brother bears a strong resemblance to our great grandfather after finding old black and white photos from the turn of the century.  These are things to celebrate.  We love our parents and our family and are grateful to bear resemblance.  But, what we cherish more is the legacy they have left and the life they pour into us whether we look like them or not. 

These are just my thoughts.  Thoughts that come tumbling out as we navigate through this road with M&M.  We love her.  We love her sister.  We couldn't imagine loving them more.  I'm so glad that we didn't do any of the crazy or not-so-crazy things to force ourselves to get pregnant.  If we had, we would've missed out on the biggest blessings we never created.  :)

A New Adventure

Does anyone blog anymore?  I'm not sure, but as my mother pointed out to me, writing is therapeutic and sometimes you just have to get your thoughts out of your head.  I haven't written a post on this blog in some time.  A lot of life has happened and some of it has been pretty hard.  I guess I really didn't want to see it in print.  Now we find ourselves in an exciting/challenging/scary adventure and I lose myself most days in the "what ifs" alone in my head.  Hopefully, putting out my thoughts, whether they're read or not, will prove to be my therapy.

Our current adventure is a similar one that we've been on before, but oh so different.  We are currently fostering (hoping to adopt!) a beautiful, one month old baby girl.  Our journey with her goes back to April, when we first felt the nudging from the Lord to go the foster to adopt route.  Licensed at the end of June, we had a few placement calls that were nearly ours, leaving our hearts raw and tender.  Then, in mid September, our call came.  Only three days old, our M&M baby was delivered to our doorstep tiny and precious.  Instantly in love, she has captured all of our hearts.

Initially we were told that her case would be an easy one to move into adoption.  We were thrilled after waiting so long to adopt again and from the long and hard work of adopting Raylen six years ago.  As the days have gone on, we have found that the word easy isn't in the vocabulary anymore.  While one birth parent is not suitable to care for her, the presumed other birth parent is vowing to fight for her. Believe it or not, there is yet another person involved wanting her, all without knowing anything about her.

It's a very hard thing to describe, the feeling that other people want to take your child.  While I know that legally she isn't ours yet, we are the ones up with her every two hours, the ones seeing her first smile, the ones worrying about her every sneeze or fever.  She is ours in every practical sense of the word and our hearts are bonded.  She is a mommy's girl already, not wanting to be put down and really just wanting me to hold her.  When you spend every moment of your day with that kind of love in your arms, it is a lightning bolt to your heart when someone says they want to take that from you.

There are positives right now.  Nothing can be decided for a year.  She is with us for at least a year while anyone seeking custody proves themselves.  Even after that year, we will have so much standing with her that we will have as much or more right to her as a biological parent.  In the thick of it though, it's hard to remember the positives.

For a long time now, I've been asking the Lord to increase my faith in Him.  Several people at different times have prayed over me and asked the Lord to deepen my dependance to Him.  I am learning now that He is doing that, it just doesn't look like the computer style download to my brain I was thinking it would.  I have to walk this journey out day by day in complete faith in Him, standing firm on His word. Loving anyone isn't easy.  There are ups and downs and in all truth, none of us are guaranteed that we have another day with the ones we love.  Fostering is no different.

If you would like, we would be so grateful for your prayers during this journey with M&M baby.  Here are some pressing things to pray for now:

• We have a hearing on November 7th.  We will possibly meet the other parties involved.  Please pray for favor with the judge and for grace in our hearts toward the other family members.
• Please pray for JOY in our home.  From the top down, this can bring weariness in all our hearts.  Please pray against that.

Lessons From A Giggle

The other day my sweet girl was doubled over in giggles about something and her little laugh caught me. I say "little" and yet her laugh is anything but. It is very big, actually and it is usually very loud as well. A lot of the time it comes in places where loud laughter is not welcome and I find myself trying to hush it. But, that day, it reminded me of a sound I had heard a few years before I even knew about her.

One evening in 2003, a group of ladies from my church/work came over for a Bible study. As most lady's Bible studies go, we ended up talking about the things weighing heavy on our hearts. At that time, the desire to have children and be a mother was top on the list. I didn't always handle it well, but that desire consumed my every moment. At the end of the evening, someone offered to pray for me, not so much to get pregnant, but for that desire to be filled. While she was praying the strangest thing happened. I heard laughter. Loud, contagious, fill-up the room kind of laughter from a child. I remember telling my friends when the prayer was over what I had heard and we all trusted that was a sign from the Lord that He would indeed give me the desire of my heart.

I had completely forgotten about that night these seven years later. Between "don't touch that" and weekly trips to the grocery and ballet, promises from the Lord in the form of laughter kind of slipped through the cracks. Until the other day, however.

When I heard my sweet one's laugh this time the Lord reminded me that SHE is the answer to that very prayer that night. He had put the sweet song of her giggle in my ears to hang onto until the exact moment she was to arrive.

Lately, I've felt defeated. LOTS and LOTS has been going on since I last posted and most of it is on the sad side. I don't have the energy to talk about alot of it now, but one of the areas I've felt defeated in was with my little girl. I've noticed that in our little world there are two groups of people: Those who "get" her and those who don't. There's really no rational for why certain people fall into either group, they are just there. The people who get her, really get her and cherish each aspect of her personality for the gold that it is. The people who don't get her can't see passed her demonstrative, live out loud exterior and see her heart of gold with a wild imagination. This group often labels her with "hyper", "wild", "immature" and other words I don't care for. The fact that the second group exists at all saddens me because I get her totally. That's when I remember that these two group exists for me as well. Not everyone gets me either and at 31, I've learned to almost completely not care about that group. As a mother though, I want to shelter her from any group that may not simply delight in the joy that God has made her to be.

Ultimately, I know this: The giggles and laughs of every child have rung in the ears of the Father since before time. He loves each one whether quiet and soft, loud and robust, silly and quick or without sound at all. He has a purpose, a unique destiny on each of their heads and it is our job-no our PRIVILEGE- to get to foster their little lives toward that destiny.

As I write this I am drawing a line in the sand of my own heart. I'm going to stop caring that anyone has a negative thought about my little sweetheart or me for that matter. I'm going to live in light of the fact that God sees the heart and the eternal destiny of each one of us and walk in confidence that He will bring that destiny to completion for our daughter and for me. I'm going to rededicate myself to seeing the true good in everyone, especially children-especially the non-quiet, non-compliant children of our world. These are the world shakers, you know. The wild hearts that the Lord uses for His glory and purpose. I want to be a witness to that especially in the life of my daughter. I'm going to stop being controlled by the world's standards and walk confidently in the standards of my Savior.

Feeling Inspired

As you know, we moved into our new home in October and since then I have been busying myself with the wonderful task of redecorating. I adore decorating and that is not an understatement. Shopping in little thrift shops and antique stores for the perfect thing is what I would choose to do everyday all day. I love going with my best little princess (who is cultivating her own unique style already!) or anyone who enjoys finding treasures in obscure ways. I would love it if my dear hub would like to come along more, but alas he prefers shooting guns and getting dirty. What does he see in that??? Speaking of the hubs, he often questions my ability and love of watching HGTV over and over. It is then that I remind him that I don't understand why he loves to shoot guns.

So, thanks to my super fantastic bestie, I am now completely addicted to blogs that feature new and cool ideas to create amazing things for the home. I was divinely inspired to use found objects like my blog friends this weekend when I visited the local Habitat for Humanity Restore. I fell in love! Can you say paneled bifold doors for $10???!!! Through a couple of hours in the Restore and a few days at home I was reminded that I had inherited a set of free standing french doors when we bought the house. I thought for a long time how to make them into a bookshelf, but my space was just not adding up to my designs. Finally, I decided to do the most simple thing and just lean them up against the wall. A second stroke of genius came when I decided to hang our extended matching portraits from ribbon on the doors. Here's the result.
I LOVE it!!! What I love most about this set up is the cost. The doors were free, as I mentioned. I have had the frames for a while, but I think they were $10 each. The mirror was also free as a hand me down, as was the lamp and two of the photo frames on the buffet. The buffet was a super surprise gift (no cost!) from a sweet couple I just met through family in Abilene. It has an adorable matching dining table in the dining room. The armchairs (still needing to be recovered) were a steal at $25 on Craigslist and the pillows (down and silk) were on the 90% off shelf at Kohl's making them $5.00 each! I bought most of the other frames on the buffet at Hobby Lobby on half off not spending more than $10 each for them. So, if I'm doing my math right that is an approximate cost of $95 for this entire area! I love that! Of course, I will be doing a little more to it in coming days adding some new fabric to the chairs (black and white) and hopefully a vinyl word phrase above the mirror.

So, I am on to find more found treasures for the rest of my home. I am planning to paint and redo my bedroom this weekend so stay tuned for before and after pics of that adventure!

A Homemaker's Manifesto

I just picked up a basket off the floor in the living room. It's the same basket that I picked up off the floor in various other locations several times yesterday. My little one found it in a pile of things when I cleaned out our pantry and has claimed it as her own. When I sighed at the bend to pick it up, I realized the sigh was a happy one....truly happy.

At this season in my life, I have been given a gift. It is THE gift, in my opinion. I get to stay home with my daughter. This has been the deep dream of my heart since the day I laid eyes on her and for three and half years, it was an impossible dream. I have worked, in some capacity or another with her by my side this whole time. And now, although money still is not free flowing, I have the joy of fixing meals, giggling, teaching, cleaning, giggling, reading, cleaning and loving on my girl all day. It is THE most fulfilling role I've ever had. After moving 173 miles from "home" last Fall, we have settled into a great routine-I'm much more relaxed and she is MUCH more relaxed. Most days I wake up knowing that I am on a mission. A mission to be a godly, supportive PRAYING wife. A mission to teach and raise a free-spirited, Jesus-loving woman of God. A mission to clean, organize and serve in my home just as though God Himself inhabited it as His own. This is my calling and I love it....until I hear people say to me,

"I could get all of that done too if I didn't have a job."

"I have to get up early for my job. You're lucky. You get to sleep in. You don't have a job."

"I wish I could play all day like you do. I have to work a real job."

And then, I doubt my calling. Maybe I'm not contributing to society because I'm teaching my daughter her schoolwork and not in the workplace. Maybe I can't really spend money because I haven't earned it at a company. Maybe cleaning the toilet isn't really as important as the corporate jobs I've had in the past. Maybe I'm not as good as everybody else because I don't have a title and a check at the end of the week. I do doubt, if only for a second.

But, Truth reminds me otherwise. He says that what I'm doing is for HIM not other people (Colossians 3:23). He says that when other people see what's on the outside, He sees my heart. (1 Samuel 16:7) The fact is, I work VERY hard. I'm up before the rest of my family and the sun (most days) and work well past traditional "quitting time". I have a title-it's Mommy, thank you very much and it's the best title I've ever had. I don't get a monetary paycheck, but I am rich in the most adorable face and a priceless laugh that pays in huge dividends. Most of all, I am working literally for the biggest boss this world has every had. He sees the things that I do each day that no one does and applauds me for them. He's excited with me when I reinvent an unused space into something usable for our family. He celebrates when I find a $150 clock on clearance for $15 and then pay for it with a Christmas gift card. That's the kind of boss He is.

I live to serve my little family...my husband who serves us by sweating and doing hard labor each day and bringing home actual money to buy food; my little girl who has a destiny like a crown on her head from the Lord. This is my calling...my mission and I do it for my Boss's applause and that's the best paycheck I can hope for.

Epcot...Day Ten

Today was such a great day! Epcot is such a fun place and we learned alot too! Not to miss is Soarin, a suspended IMAX flight, Nemo and Friends ride and of course Planet Earth in the landmark ball in the middle of the park. We also rode Test Track and Mission:Space which were a little on the fast side, but very fun.

The highlight of the day was our dinner at Akershush restaurant in Norway. My Guru told me months ago how smart it was to book a reservation there instead of booking a meal at Cinderella's castle. Eating at Akershush (which looks like a Medieval castle) only uses one dining plan meal per person (The Castle uses two per person) and you get to meet ALL of the princesses instead of just Cinderella. The food was DIVINE with an appetizer salad bar a la Texas de Brazil. Mommies, when eating at Akershush, ask to sit in the right of the restaurant which will allow you to get your appetizers and get settled before all the princesses flood the room. Also, most little girls wear their princess dresses which is perfect for the environment. It worked well for us to pack the dress and "glass slippers" in the backpack and change on our way to dinner. This dinner is NOT to be missed!

Fish are friends, not food

At Akershush waiting to eat with the princesses!

Belle

Sleeping Beauty

Cinderellas

Snow White

Ariel

Pooh and Tigger

Daddy and Ray at Test Track

The Smith Family at Epcot

Raylen meets Belle...and asks to see her shoes!

Disney's Animal Kingdom...Day Nine

I'm not going to lie. We drove all night, had some trouble with the GPS when we got to Orlando and had a misunderstanding about our dining plan, so when we checked-in, I was not feeling very chipper. However, I think that that the folks at Disney filter their air systems with happy juice because as soon as we really began our adventures the whole world and its problems melted away!

We chose to do Animal Kingdom first upon recommendation from my Guru. The idea was to initiate Raylen into theme parks slowly in case it was overwhelming. GREAT plan! Animal Kingdom moves slowly like a zoo, but has just as much excitement. There are a couple of "extreme" rides that wouldn't be appropriate for little ones. Jason insisted that we ride all that Ray was tall enough for which included these "extreme" rides. She lived, but I'm a little worse for wear :)

The absolute highlight of Animal Kingdom is Finding Nemo: The Musical. It is phenomenal! Like a true Broadway musical, but very kid friendly. The whole trip was worth seeing that for me. Lion King was also a wonderful performance. This is an interactive show set in theatre in the round style. My best Mommy tip of the day is to allow yourself some time to utilize the Boneyard. This is a larger than life playground full of dinosaur bones, caves, tunnels and slides. There is no waiting and plenty of places for mommies and daddies to relax. This proved to be such a good opportunity to let our over-energized "Tigger" run out her energy. Jason and I also welcomed the break!

When the park closed at seven, we headed to our dinner reservation at the Animal Kingdom Lodge at Boma. This restaurant is a buffet style, but is NOT lacking in actual style. Included in the buffet are top notch meats and sides native to Africa, but delicious for this picky American eater. A dessert buffet is also provided with amazing miniature pineapple upside down cheesecakes and much more. Yum!

Before I list the photos, I must tell you that I found the Disney Celebrations to be quite wonderful. When we booked our trip I was asked if we were going to be celebrating anything. Our anniversary is in three weeks so I told them and they made note. Upon check-in, we got buttons saying Happy Anniversary to wear and our room was upgraded from standard to preferred (close to the bus!). At Boma, we were sat in preferred seating in intimate window booths as an upgrade. Literally, EVERYWHERE we have been we are greeted with "Happy Anniversary" and "Congratulations" making us feel super special. Don't be embarrassed to mention something special that you're celebrating during your stay. It's free, but well worth it!

Jason at Boma

The Smith Family meet Santa Goofy

Finding Nemo: The Musical

Mommy and Ray on the Safari

Raylen meets Turk

Our very own Tigger!

Slow Southern Sunday....Day Eight

Aunt LeAnn and Raylen cooking lunch

The Gang playing UNO

It's been another great day in Tennessee. I can't stress enough how much I love being here. I've been remembering such fond memories of our Tennessee family through the years today. I met Bud and LeAnn when I was fourteen when they came on staff at our church as youth ministers. There second son, Logan is fourteen now and that is wild to think about. The Georges were immediately more like family and my best friends as an awkward youth. The eldest, Blake, was my favorite babysitting charge then, the most precious ring bearer ever for our wedding and is still the sweetest young man at sixteen. Annalee is a beautiful seven year old that was an answer to prayer for this family. She doesn't know it, but she provided some sweet laughter for my dad in his last month with the video package she sent. Looking back, Bud and Lee have been instrumental in my life at every turn. Bud has taught me invaluable life lessons even without saying a word-lessons about integrity, forgiveness, courage and boldness. LeAnn reminded me on the day that Bud married Jason and I that she had been praying for my future husband since I was sixteen and I know she still prays today. She is the most relaxed, down to earth person I know and makes everyone else around her feel relaxed too. I want to know their secret for raising happy, fun, respectful, well rounded children and repeat that too.

I'm so grateful for positive influences in my life like the Georges. There are so many other people I count in that category as well, too. I realize that I wouldn't be anywhere today without these God given role models that have guided me along the way.

Relaxing In Murfreesboro...Day Seven

We successfully made it to Murfreesboro, TN last night around 6:30pm. It was a great trip and we were so excited to see our friends, The Georges. Even though it's been three years since we've seen them, it feels like yesterday. We always have such a great time when we visit.

We were excited to smell bacon and pancakes from our room this morning and Raylen got a special treat from Uncle Bud on her plate...

Today, we went to Miller's Grocery Store to eat lunch, which is a sweet and yummy cafe in an antique grocery store. There is a little drygoods store across the street from Miller's that has an assortment of handmade things. Raylen and Annalee picked out matching Dorothy dresses for their American Girl Dolls. There felt pretty grown up buying them all by themselves! Tonight, our friends, The Herndons came over for chili and game night. Fun! I need to brush up on my Catch Phrase though. Now we are relaxing around the beautiful Christmas tree and wishing we could visit longer. Here are some other shots from the day.