Unfailing Love

The last time I came here to write on my blog I was writing in a state of despair and confusion. I was desperately gripping onto my hope in Yahweh even though I couldn't see an answer to my struggles. I honestly felt at that time that I couldn't go on. I felt as if I was about to fall off the edge, that I wouldn't be able to finish my degree. I was feeling the weight of problems that weren't entirely my own but could find no way to shake them. Little by little I was being crushed and more and more I had been locking myself away from the world. When my friends asked me to hang out I made excuses in order to keep alone. The pressure of being okay and happy around them was often too great. Of course, during this time there were moments when I showed my weakness and each time my friends were there to pick me up. I am eternally grateful to them for standing by me. Despite that, however, I continued to feel alone. It was at this time that God showed his Love in my life and rescued me again. He never fails me.

What Does My Future Hold?

I think I have a propensity for missing out on good conversations. Or maybe I always miss my cue. Or, I don't recognize a good thing until after its gone. Whatever the reason, I always find myself thinking back and wishing I had said something. It's a good thing I have a blog. I have found it is useful, on more than one occasion, to artificially go back and say exactly what I wish I had. Of course it is never as good as saying it in person but one could argue that it is better than not saying anything at all.

If there is one thing I have learned in my life, it is that I know nothing.

If I had to guess, I think my future will probably have a lot more of this in it - piano and funny faces.

There was a time when my life made sense, a time when everything appeared to be under control.
I was like any other little girl back then, dreaming about my future with no concern for anything but the present. At eight years old I had my whole life planned out. I would grow up and go to Clemson University in South Carolina. I would learn music and become a concert pianist. I'd travel the world with my sister and her friend in our RV with our three horses while playing piano for a myriad of audiences. One day I would meet a handsome man and he would become my husband. We'd get married on horseback and for our honeymoon we'd hike across all of North America. After that we would buy a house. I would teach piano lessons and home-school our children. Then I would climb down from the tree where I had been dreaming and run inside to play with my siblings.

Tonight I Sit

Insomnia. I'm not sure if I have it or not but sometimes, like tonight, even though I am sleepy, I can't seem to fall asleep.

I tossed and turned in my bed. I curled up into a tiny ball. I hugged my pillow so tight that the feathers were about to burst. I talked to my sister. (One of the perks of sharing a room. Also one of the drawbacks if you are the one sleeping and your sister is the one who can't.) I got down from my bed and did some sit-ups in the middle of the floor. Finally I announced to my sleepy roommate that I was going outside to listen to some music.

Conveniently, I took a picture of this honeysuckle blossom a few nights ago. I can say that it is supposed to represent the sweet thoughts that came to me out of the dark night. ;)

As quietly as possible I opened the cantankerous piece of wood that we call a door and slipped out into the muggy Florida night. The air was heavy and the bugs were thick. I picked my way across the driveway to the sidewalk, being careful not to step on any toads, and sat myself down in the broken beach chair that was abandoned there after our last trip to the lake. Of course, because my hair is so thick and long and crazy, in the short amount of time it took me to get out there my earphones got all tangled up in my unruly locks. After extracting the wires from my hairy mess I was finally able to turn my music on.

What Have You Been Doing this Summer?

 "So what have you been doing all summer?"

That is the question I was asked yesterday at lunch that I never really answered. I started to answer by leaning back in my chair (or forward, I don't remember, I just know I moved around in my seat) and saying something like "Oh man, a lot has happened this summer. My life is so different now than what is used to be." I paused awkwardly for a second trying to figure out how to proceed but then my phone rang and I was saved from answering immediately. After the phone call I kind of avoided going back to the question and our conversation continued on swimmingly thanks to the "amiableness" of my companion.

Still I kind of feel bad for never answering. It's not that I didn't want to, I was just unprepared to answer such a simple question because I feel like I have a complicated answer. It's not that a lot has happened this summer, but a lot has come into fruition this summer. I mention often, in somewhat veiled language, the difficult life I had before and to be sitting here now in my current situation is something that is nothing short of miraculous to me.

Breaking the Silence

Sometimes the silence is unbearable. Don't be afraid to make some noise.

This is the thought that slipped into my head a few weeks ago and it still hasn't come out. There is a book coming out called Tear Down this Wall of Silence by Dale Ingraham and Rebecca Davis. It's about sexual abuse in the church and how we should handle it. I haven't read it, but I believe my mom has and if you're friends with her on Facebook; then I am sure you have seen her post about it a few times. Even though I've never been sexually abused, this title still resonates deeply with me.

When I was young Mom gave me a small paperback book called Dorie: The Girl Nobody Loved. It was dark blue and had a simple line drawing of a little girl looking up at a particular constellation in the sky. I remember laying in the bed of our small pickup truck at my brother's football practice. It was night and the lights were so bright on the field, that it was almost day. The story was about this little girl and how she grew up being sexually abused and how she dealt with it becoming an adult. Gazing up at the ink black sky, searching for that constellation, I learned compassion. I am thankful that Mom gave me that book to read. It is one of the key points that God used to open my eyes to see others suffering.

Being an Older Adoptive Sibling

Hello friends, it has been a while since I've posted on here.

Today I have something important to talk about. Although I can't share everything here online I must make you aware of the fact that we are no longer adopting the boys. Many things have contributed to this decision on my parents part and it is not my place to explain everything. Even so, everything I said before about loving being a big sister, about how I could see God leading us to these boys, all of that still applies. The time we had with them was hard but still a blessing. Maybe more for them than us, but I don't regret that time at all.

Having read different blogs and forums, I've noticed that people are always saying that nobody really talks about adoption that much. I wouldn't have known since all of these places were talking about it, but maybe I just stumbled upon the few rare gems. Since there is a need for more discussion on the subject I would like to share with y'all my story as an older sister in a local American adoption. I hope some of you other adoptive older siblings will find this story and get some encouragement out of it.

Easter 2015
We're just missing our older brother Zachary!

Floral Shorts and Muscadines Remind Me of His Mercy

A while back my mom took my sister and I shopping at a Spring sale Old Navy was having. Styles are cycling back around and what was once popular when my Mom was a girl is once again becoming the latest trend. Many of the prints and colors were familiar to me. Mostly I remember the shoes from Mom's closet but I guess when we were younger we also had some old hand me downs, mostly dresses. I got a pair of navy blue shorts with pink and blue flowers plastered onto it. I like them a lot but whenever I look at them I cant help but remember the hideous dresses Mom used to make me wear when I was little. They had flower print just like my shorts and one had big puffed sleeves and soft gathers at the hem so my dress looked like that one sleepy cartoon dog - Droopy is it? - Anyways, I don't know why but I had so many floral print dresses and I hated them all. I swore I would never ever wear dark colored with medium sized contrasting flowers on top clothes... especially dresses. Now here I am wearing a pair of shorts that if they were a dress I would immediately throw into the donate pile. Go figure.

The other day my brother was listening to country music and one of the lines in the song is "sweeter than muscadine wine" How many of y'all know what a muscadine is? Well you won't have to wonder long because I'll tell you. They're summer. They are komorebi (the soft light that turns leaves into glowing fireflies). They're the gentle breeze that sneaks under the thick vines and cools a little girls legs but not her sweaty brow. She is almost completely out of sight under the thick growth, her waist and legs rest in the moist dirt as the rest of her strains reaching up and up, to the very center of the friendly vines where she plucks the very last fruit. She collapses and rests on her elbows that are digging into the soft earth and plops the muscadine into her mouth. She sucks on it and then pulls it out and carefully begins peeling off the skin to reveal the green inside. It matches the glowing leaves. Finally she eats it. Muscadines are the perfect day.

The Wizard of Oz

NOTE: This was written several months ago. I think even before we met the boys.

When I was very young we were at some friend’s house. A movie about the Wizard of Oz was put in and we youngsters did not sit still and watch it. Everyone was very wiggly including me. I was at the most four years old. I was annoyed with the other children because I couldn’t hear what Dorothy was saying or the Lion or the Tin Man. I sat close to the television and pressed my ear against the speaker. I couldn’t see but at least I could hear. Eventually the travelers made it to the Emerald City. There were scary adventures and some happy times too, I don’t remember much about it. I do know though, that was the day I fell in love with the Land of Oz.
                Some years later a remake of the Wizard of Oz movie came out and it was very popular. McDonald's began including dolls of the characters in the happy meals. Every Wednesday on the way to piano lessons we would stop at a McDonald's that was right next to a green BP gas station. We didn’t normally buy happy meals but since Mom knew I liked the Wizard of Oz so much she bought me the happy meals and I collected the dolls. I got the Tin Man, Dorothy, a flying monkey, and Glinda the Good. I was disappointed that they stopped giving out the dolls before I could collect them all.

From Here to There Incredible Things are Everywhere...

Come with me back to 2010. I am standing outside with a pair of rubber boots I threw on - no socks of course. It is January and I grabbed my huge white coat that makes me look like a walking marshmallow. I didn't zip it up so instead I hug myself stuffing my hands in my pockets, keeping the cold at bay. I stand ankle deep in fresh clean snow. Up in the sky I watch my breath float away towards the gorgeous full moon. The light of the moon is so bright that no stars can be seen for at least one outstretched-hand-length away and when the light hits the snow it lights up the whole field almost as bright as day. I can see the Milky Way. The sky is black as tar. The sounds I hear are comforting. A pack of coyotes yip and scream as the hunt in the night. Owls talk. Chickens murmur and cluck softly. I walk into the driveway and admire the beautiful snowflakes on the hoods of our suburban, truck, water trailer. They are incredible. I turn back towards the house and head inside. By this time I can't feel my toes. Our blue Christmas lights have faded since we put them up last year. Icicles hang from the roof.

Now, step back into the present. It's December. I am sitting on the short flower bed wall, bare feet planted firmly on our concrete sidewalk.

Road Trip with Grandma: Henry Ford Museum, Canada, Visiting Family

You may have heard this already but in case you haven't, my Grandma and I went for a road trip up to Detroit, Michigan. Grandma was keen on visiting family and I was looking forward to exploring the old places my Dad grew up in. I have been back for a while now but I haven't been able to find the time to write this post. Actually right now I really want to go to bed but I figured I had to get this out. In that light, this post won't be as detailed as I want but here we go.

Grandma and I left Wednesday, September 10 and stopped for the night in Kentucky. At one of the rest stops we saw a horse track with a bunch of people standing around. We didn't see any horses though just people and cameras. We arrived in Michigan the next day and stayed at a nice hotel in Troy, about thirty minutes from Detroit. Dad grew up in Royal Oak, between Troy and Detroit.

First Day of School

I am standing out by the mail box about five feet from the road. My bare feet in the cool wet grass are antithetical to the sweat that I can feel beading up on the back of my neck. The sun shines down and I am glad I am wearing my hat on this warm August morning. My eleven year old brother and I are waiting for the bus. This is his first day in middle school. I watch him wandering about the grass, stooping down and watching little creatures in the dirt. His backpack looks like a turtle shell; he is entirely too close to the road. "Come here, don't be so close to the road." I tell him. I put my arm on his back.

Waiting for the bus!

Mom has already left to take the twins to their Headstart school. When I woke up this morning it was because Mom came in calling for reinforcements. There was a missing shoe crisis. The two year old has this thing about shoes. He takes any shoes and all shoes and puts them on his feet, "Dese mine." He will say. And they get lost. So we three, Mom, Savannah and I, looked frantically all through the house for the missing shoe. One boy kept saying his tummy hurt and he was hungry, "You're going to eat at school" we told him, then the moanings increased when he saw his older brother eating a bowl of cerial. (He doesn't eat breakfast at his middle school) The two youngest kept declaring that they wanted to go to school, or asked for food, or asked to be held. We never found the shoe but got a new pair instead. "I want socks!" whined the shoeless boy when he saw his sandals. Finally though they were ready to leave. A hug and kiss for each and they were headed out the door.

We're Adopting!

Today was the beginning of a totally new part of our lives. We're adopting four little boys! I know I haven't said anything on my Facebook account, or in person, or on the phone, but yes it's happening. Three months ago we started the adoption process - home study, meetings, Mom and Dad had to go through adoption classes, phone calls, paper work. Before we knew it, all the preparations were made and we just sat back and waited. Before we knew it, we were matched with these boys.

        Today the paperwork was signed and we were matched to the boys officially and today we met them for the first time. They came straight from daycare to our house. I was so worried before this that they wouldn't like us. I was afraid they wouldn't like me because I was so much older than them. They pulled in a mini van with the case workers and Mom, Dad, and Savannah went out to meet them. I realized Jubal wasn't with them so I looked and found him with his face buried in his pillow and his eyes squeezed tight. He has been so wild with excitement today about meeting his new brothers, he has been singing songs lately about getting more brothers. "Today my new brothers come!" he says. Well, now of course he was shy. I took him out to the back yard where everyone was. He clung to me and kept his face mashed against my shoulder with his eyes closed. It wasn't long though till he got brave and started to play with the boys.

Finding Joy in the Daily Grind

This year in 2014 I made a decision to live my life more intentionally. It is something I need to do.

For seven years now I have been living a life of reaction.  A life of counter moves and murky instincts. A life with no goals but only a frenzied effort to stay alive and afloat. No it was not always a struggle all the time, more like an inflamed zit ready to burst with puss. Sure you can cover it over with makeup, pretend it's not there. I could hide my problems, tell myself its just normal, I could even forget for a little while; but the slightest little prick and the zit bursts. The slightest upset, the most unintentional slip up with my words, or even a vengeful thought left unchecked can and did bring my carefully constructed world crumbling down around me over and over again. I could not escape the ugly reality of sin. Wherever I turned I saw the rotten effects it had on me and my family, it's oozing appendages wrapping itself around us, separating us. And I was afraid. I tried and tried to build up the walls, walls ill-equipped for such a job... because hostility, distrust, and fear are no good to keep sin and its consequences at bay. Only Jesus can do that. So I lived a fairly normal and almost healthy looking life hiding it all. Reacting but not living.

Then our house burned down. Then my baby brother was born. Then God rescued me. Then he wiped away all the ooze and gave me new walls. Walls with Christ in them, walls of love, and trust, joy, and hope. These new walls do a bang up job at keeping Satan away. Still 2011, 2012, and 2013 were way too insane for me to do anything but react. This time though, it wasn't a wandering kind of instinct. It was me clinging with all my life to the One who gave me life, waiting for the winds to stop battering me, waiting until I could start again. And here I am, 2014 and the winds have died down. The rain has stopped. I am ready to start again.

Mountain Paradise

Last week as I was driving a certain memory came to mind. I thought of a place we almost lived. A place that was almost home. Our almost paradise.

No, it wasn't Belize. It was up in the mountains. The mountains of South Carolina.

Imagine a beautiful log cabin built out of ceder. Our feet knocked on strong ceder trunks, hewn down out of the mountain to make a home. Almost our home. Wooden floors, wooden walls, all hand made in my young mind at the time, by a man and his family back in the pioneer days; although now I see it wasn't quite that old. Dad showed me the ladder that came down out of the ceiling. He climbed up to opened the trap door then let me in. Gingerly I climbed the steep steps and popped into a room as large as the entire cabin below. Dad told me how he would build a wall and make a bedroom for the boys and a bedroom for the girls. The room was just like out of a story. It was dusty, you could see the particles wafting through the air when they floated into the sunbeam that lit up the room. You could smell the scent of wood. A sturdy deck came out from the dining room and over looked the river that flowed swiftly by. I remember looking at the water fall and soaking up the beauty. It was exhilarating. Also I squealed to Daddy about where I could put my play kitchen.

Happy Easter!

Today is Resurrection Day!

First here are a few Facebook posts collected over the season and then I will tell you about today.

March 21, 2013

One of my favorite church seasons is upon us! Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday, (although Holy Saturday I have never done anything special on, but it is part of the calendar) Resurrection Day, and Ascention Sunday! A few years back I attended my first Good Friday Service. It made a huge difference on what I thought about Passion Week. I had grown up with the typical Sunday school story of Easter and then after class teachers and students would talk about Easter egg hunts. After this service the whole idea and thought process about this time of year changed.

Actually I think this is my favorite church season. Palm Sunday is my particular favorite out of the whole bunch.

Sunday can't get here fast enough! (We are also joining that day as well. Two reasons!)

Biking with Grandma, Veteran's Memorial

Last Saturday my two oldest youngest siblings and went riding our bikes. We started out at 10:15 with my brother running beside us as we rode. He is training for a half marathon this November. We spent an hour and a half and only went about three miles. He will get better the more he practises... still he is way faster than me! We stopped at a bridge an looked at the small river below. We saw a big fish! About a foot long and pretty fat.

When we got back to the house we packed a lunch. Sandwiches, tangerines, carrots, and there were supposed to be pretzels but I forgot. We brought some more water and then headed back out at twelve o'clock or so.

It was a quick ride to town, probably about thirty minutes. We zipped through downtown and headed for the docks. There we had our lunch as we dangled our feet over the edge.

Zippidy Doo Da

Lately I have really, really been enjoying my life. This stop in Florida (I am still a bit cautious to presume I know how long) has given me some time to breath. I think of it as a longed for oasis in the middle of a wilderness. While travelling through the wilderness God gave me the ability to endure it but now that we've gotten to this place of rest I don't ever want to leave it. If we must go on we must, but I just think I am in paradise right now.

Two Years

Two years ago today, my baby brother was only one week and three days old. It had only been one week and three days since our house burned down and only one week and three days since I had seen the ugly side of the police force. The side that only criminals are supposed to see. On this day two years ago we were still living with our friends and my parents were still in the hospital struggling to keep our baby brother safe. Struggling to keep their son in their arms. It was a dark time. An uncertain and frightful time. Almost equal to the year when we first moved to Missouri. That year our family went through what seemed like Hell on earth. The questions, the doubts, the accusations I flung at God. "What are you doing?!" Anger and confusion was my first reaction. Then about a week after it happened something clicked. God spoke to me and then I knew that my life had been changed irrevocably for the good.

The Bigness of Life

[I don't remember when I wrote this, obviously during the summer, but it has sat around in my drafts for quite a while. I find my thoughts then still ring true with my thoughts now so I will post it, even if it is belated.]


Over the past two months, I have started to realise just how big life is. Well, I suppose I started to have an inkling of it when my dad had his heart attack, when the house burned down, and when my baby brother was born - but it is now in the quiet lull of business yet to come and business past that I have thought about it much.

Yes there is much to life. Rain, sun, plants, bugs, animals, crop failures and successful crops. There are silly games to be played, times for serious thinking. There are the chores to do, and then of course friends to hang out with and have fun with. There are the big things in life, and then the small.
And what about the future? What is going to happen? Who will I marry, how many children will I have? Will I be a good mother, a good wife? Am I going to marry? Will I write a book someday? Where am I going to live - what about my dream home up in the mountains with a little herd of goats and a garden? I am afraid one of my weaknesses is wondering about the future.

Remembering Grandpa

I've been thinking about my grandpa tonight. He passed away over a year ago now. November 14, 2011. I was thinking and I realized that I didn't write anything about him on the one year aniversary of his death. It's not because I don't miss him, I do. The first week or so after his death I struggled with feelings of hypocrisy. I didn't cry, I slept fine at night. (Although if I took a nap in the day I would dream of the funeral and wake up drained and not refreshed.)  It took me a while to realize that I didn’t have to have extreme outward signs of distress to grieve.

I didn’t write about him and I didn't STOP on that day, one year later, and think about Grandpa. I thought about him yes, even tried to write about him, but I was doing my school or going out on the river. That day I did not feel like writing about him. It is not an obligation to write about him, yet many people do write about their loved ones on the day of their passing away.  I do not like to write unless I have the writing feeling. It just didn’t come that day. I tried to make it come but it wouldn’t so I left well enough alone.

Now I do have the writing feeling.