At the end of the day, we're all enough.

It's Friday (started this on Friday...)  and like most, I'm attempting to get through the final day of the week. My body resisted climbing out of bed this morning and I found myself worn out from being "on point" all week (let's be honest... I was never on point at any point this week).  Fridays are like, "If I can just make it through one more day..."

Ironically, with Matt's schedule lately, it's been endless days of "if I can just get through one more day..." 

At points, I recognize survival is the only goal for the day, the week and often, the month. Get through it. Meals, clothing, tidy house, school work, few social obligations.... do it all over again. It can feel mind-numbing and often incredibly isolating. The monotonous day in and day out of a noble motherhood experience, and yet... there is always someone, somewhere telling me I should be doing more.

This is a trap; the feeling of needing to do more. I fall into it daily.

I'm told I should be doing more situps to achieve that flat stomach. I should be doing more meditation to give the world more of an open heart. I should be reading the Bible more often, to enrich my spirit. I should be praying for my husband, my child, my family, my friends, my pastor, my neighbors, my church, my kids' friends, their families.... I should be eating healthier food. I should be reading more self-help books. I should be reading more fiction! Dangit, I should start a book club. I should go for a run, because nothing is healthier than a strong heart and cellulite-free thighs. I should be participating in a women's club. 

This is just the tip of the iceburg... I could name 100 more things I should be doing as a mother, a teacher, a wife and as a friend. The list often feels endless.

If I'm being honest, I've attempted to imagine accomplishing all of those things I'm told are good, and right and noble. Daily, I beat myself up for not completing my mental to-do list and monthly I recount all the failures I've stacked against myself. Annually, I look back and see only the "important" things I didn't do... the goals I didn't achieve.

This horribly destructive pattern is tearing me apart, and I can bet I'm not the only one out there trying to keep up. 

What if I laid down all the stuff that doesn't really matter? What if I focused on the things that do matter? Stuff like, playing with my kid and laughing with my husband. Creating wholesome meals that are tried and true...nothing fancy or over-the-top expensive. What if I focused on my child's character building through relationship, instead of pushing memory verses on him daily? What if I accepted myself the way I am, and then learned to love myself... instead of believing I should be firmer, thinner, prettier...smarter?

Sigh... deep breaths and let's take a minute to think about all the expectations we set for ourselves.... and then imagine how many of those expectations really matter to us. Like, REALLY matter.

I am trying to let go of all the obligitory expectations (it's a slow process, mind you), and as I do so I am realizing it becomes easier for me to see evidence of the things I am doing right. Clearing the air allows me to see where my real values lie... and then, in turn, I am able to invest in those things that matter to me the most. Ignoring the expecations the world dumps in my lap, gives me head space to foster and nurture the values we hold most dear to in our own family. 

It's a daily battle to simplify, especially when I've been in my head for years. Trying to be better is often a trap that is measured against the impossible, and though it is noble and right to want to improve on ourselves, we have to accept that we can only do so much. 

Instead of keeping up, I'd like to thrive. If thriving means only doing a few things a day or setting smalls goals that are truly acheivable for the time of life I'm in, then I'm on board. I'm tired of feeling like I'm not enough, I'm not accomplishing enough, and I'm not good enough. At the end of the day, we're all enough. We have only ourselves to give... and that, my friends is enough.

For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith. This is not from yourselves, but a gift from God; not by works, so that no one can boast.

-Ephesians 2:8

Do The Work and Find A Therapist

Photo: Yumi Kim

January is by far my least favorite month of the year. Some would think it's great... starting over, fresh beginnings, and nothing to plan for. For me, it's bleak.

This particular January has been a rough one. I've come to accept the fact that I cannot manage my depression on my own. It's a day to day basis, and frankly I've had more bad days than good ones the past six weeks... or the past year... or maybe my entire life? It's all in question right now.

Christmas was beautiful... my parents came to Muncie, and we celebrated in such meaningful ways. Togetherness is something that always touches my heart, and having them here for a couple weeks was an incredible gift!

In spite of the festivities, I still had this cloud of grey over my heart. It seems, I cannot remember a time when I was genuinely happy, or light-hearted. It seems everything is weighted or heavy-laden... tainted with some kind of sadness. I am unable to truly be free. At times, I've felt this happiness people speak of, but just as I seem to get a grip, it is lost again.

I am unsure why I'm sharing this.

This morning I did the easy thing... I lost it on my husband. Just ugly crying, slinging judgement, accusations, resentment, blame... all of the ugly came pouring out. Everything I've fought years to learn to control came tumbling out. There was no hiding everything that has been my heart. I caught a glimpse of myself and was immediately ashamed of how far I've let myself go. How far I've slid from the woman I know I really am.

This is where guilt, shame and embarassment reside. We're all very familiar with one another... they and I.  

After Matt left for work, I did my own work and found a therapist. The sense of relief was slight, but it was there. 

Right now the tears are partially for my brokeness, but mostly for grace. I've felt lost, but truly in my heart I know I am never lost. I am known, loved and wanted. I know this, but I don't feel it. I don't know why, but I'm rewarded with an incredibly patient husband, and friendships with whom I can be honest.

I look at others and often wonder: How are they so free?

Monday will be a step in the right direction... a step toward healing. Not just temporary healing, but life-changing, mending the broken pieces, becoming whole again, healing...freedom. 

  

Here's To Joy

Okay guys... confession time. I have no good reasons as for why this blog has been neglected. My only reason is that I've been really low. Like, emotionally low. Like, depressed.

If we all have a "thorn in the flesh" one of my biggest "thorns" is low-grade depression that comes and goes, especially when life is most challenging. The irony of depression is that it hits you when times are the most difficult. Lately, things have been difficult.

I'm working on a few things (like my diet, my spirituality and my physical activity) to get my heart in a better place. Feeling like I'm in control of myself again is really important for stability and I'm aiming to get back there.

In addition, focusing on the joy of the every day. I need to do that more. The every day of life is our life. Why not focus on the joys that greet us in the moments we least expect it? The joy of a great run, or a peaceful afternoon. Let these joys dictate the joy in our heart. Rather than go from one disappointment to the next, I would like to see my heart go from one joy to the next.

So... here's to joy. Here's to turning over a new leaf...

Beginning A Good Work

Tomorrow is my 33rd birthday. I love birthdays! They signify growth, change and new beginnings. I absolutely love new beginnings!

Ironically, I don't have vast plans or aspirations for this upcoming year. I'm not looking forward yet... I'm still looking back with a deep sense of thankfulness.

This past year was full... full of pain, disappointment and revelation. It may have been the most pivotal year of my adult life, yet; creating depth, awareness and knowledge I wouldn't have acquired otherwise.

Our marriage was rocked to levels I never imagined and in that I realized just what kind of wife I was. Or better yet, what kind of wife I didn't want to be. This painful time in my most cherished relationship opened doors of honesty, vulnerability and beauty I never thought possible. What a gift to see a vibrant, exciting future with the only man I've ever loved.

My personal self was knocked deep at the heart when I recognized my own insecurities were preventing depth and honesty in my friendships. It seemed dumb and pointless to speak of internal maturity and confidence when I myself struggled with vanity, vulnerability and grace. I had to break myself of this trap and I'm still continuing to see what this looks like on a daily basis. It takes work to be authentic, real and honest with all of my friends.

My family had always been a facet of my life that I struggled to find balance with, but once I learned to let them be who they want to be, I no longer felt this impending need to "be different." It's like the shackles of swimming upstream had been released and I could finally join those I love without being defined by them. Seriously you guys, this is a beautiful thing. I may be unique and different than those I love, but that doesn't mean I have to stop sharing life with them. It's a freedom I haven't known till now. Freedom from judgement.

These are huge defining moments for me and they've all taken place in my 32nd year of life. I've yet any idea what lies ahead for me personally, but if it includes loving those I hold dear, learning more about this weird heart of mine and creating more space in my life for what really counts, I'm looking forward to my 33rd year.

Wish me a happy birthday and say a prayer for this heart of mine. It's been worked over and I'm reaping the benefits of it from this day forward.

He who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it. 
Taken from Philippians 1:6

A Full Heart

We are three weeks out from our Epic Summer Road Trip and I find myself becoming increasingly more emotional about leaving Salt Lake City.

At the communion table Sunday morning Matt thanked God for the beautiful relationships we have here. Against my will, tears sprang from my eyes and I could not allow myself to think of all we're giving up.

We have a beautiful community of friends and loved ones! Why are we leaving?!

It's amazing how ungrateful I am until I realize I'm going to lose the wonderful. Suddenly, I'm so grateful I want to take all the wonderful with me.

It's shameful how I don't appreciate the friendships, the weather, the home we live in, the grocery stores... the normal. I can see plain as day how I took all of this for granted.

Except the weather, because I love the weather here. I talk about how great it is all the time.

The relationships I have here are priceless. I'm not glorifying them, because now we'll be separate and I can forget all the weird, gnarly stuff and only remember the good times. Ironically, my friends have seen the weird and gnarly in me and still claim to love me.

Not sure why... but they do.

My friend Katie who will go to Target just to grab a coffee and chat while we wander through the store with our loud kids. Emily who lets my kid throw rocks at her kids and doesn't bat an eye when he accidentally stomps on her flowers. Erin who will drive 45 minutes with her two kids to see me and speak love into my life. Haley who will call me out on my ish any day, any time... and still make me laugh with her real-to-life sense of humor. Amanda is a friend who is tender, laughs at my jokes and lets my kid shoot Nerf guns inside her house. Josie who doesn't think it's weird when I kiss her newborn as if he were my own.

There are so many who are light and love and compassion and all that good stuff that makes a wonderful friend... so many who have prayed for me, loved me, spent time with me, spoken wisdom into my life and seen me change over the course of three years.

The only thing I can be is grateful. Grateful I have had this opportunity to be changed and molded by these beautiful women. Women who have lightened the load, made me laugh and warmed my heart in only the way a friend can. I've learned more about what it looks like to be a friend, and with a full heart I'll take all these things into the next chapter of my life.

Space And Light

Heart work is hard work but as a friend recently said: "Life has been feeling a lot less small." It seems, when we're caught up in the shroud of our own emotions and pain, life feels awfully narrow. And for now, those walls are expanding with joy, freedom and life.

I can't claim to have anything answered, figured out or resolved. I still consider myself a fragile person. In the midst of the search, though, I have come to the conclusion that the efforts made to find resolution are more than half the battle. The battle is what brings my purpose.

And what is my purpose, you ask? It seems vain or arrogant to assume I know my purpose... because really, we'll look back on this life and see it for what it really is... through the eyes of the Maker. And things will look drastically different than they seemed through our little people eyes.

But... if I were to follow a direction I'm being led in; to walk the steps that have been clearly laid before me, I would say my purpose is to change the future for myself, my children and their children. Not all of us feel this innate desire to change the destiny we're wired for, and yet, I find myself unable to accept the destiny that has been presented before me.

If I examine how I'm wired, it looks pretty dim; narrow and small.

It takes both humility and strength to figure out why I'm wired this way... to resolve the brokenness and pain I carry from those before me... and to lay it down before the Father as a sacrifice. In this sacrifice I'm willingly submitting myself to the purpose I'm meant for. The purpose the Father has intended.

To lay it down and leave it.

And then maybe...just maybe... I'll look back after this life is over and the Father's purpose for me will look familiar. It won't be as far of a stretch from what my little person's eyes saw while living here in this life. My children's children will have a better chance of not carrying the sin and darkness that has so lovingly been passed down and maybe, just maybe there will be more space and light in their lives.

When You Act This Way, You Get Nothing

Five minutes ago I endured an epic meltdown with my three and a half year old. It was unnerving, awkward and frankly, really inconvenient. To boot, it's not the first "meltdown" today. This habit of "freaking out" has become routine the past two weeks and, it's killing me.

Truth be told, I recognize this as normal. Three year olds are like baby teenagers. They're not babies, but not kids... they're in between. The ability to understand emotion is there, but they cannot control those emotions. Not unlike a teenager, this three year old goes from calm and fun to psychotic, the-world-is-ending, emotional wreck. Choices cannot be made without irrational desires (i.e. I want to make a choice, but really I want both!) and the ability to fully verbalize one's thoughts is still lacking.

I believe this leaves both of us tired.

I can see the meltdown coming... typically if there is a disagreement regarding activity or limitations. I can also typically identify why we're having a meltdown...off-routine, tiredness, insecurity, not enough attention...the list can vary, but normally, there is a good reason why we're headed in this direction.

I can do my best to divert or distract, but the value of "seeing it through" is really important. So I gird up my loins, put on my "I'm-tough-but-calm" face and I stick to my guns (even though I'm shrinking inside, because hey, I've got my own issues!).

Normally the child would cry and admit defeat. But not lately. He's ready to fight.

It takes a good twenty minutes, typically involves a spank (ugh...break my heart) and reminders that once child has decided to act this way, all choices are up to Mom. I reward nothing. He is taken away from all fun activities and I repeat this phrase every time:

"When you act this way, you get nothing."

I insist he lay in his bed (or sit in a quiet place when we're not at home) for ten minutes (I point to the clock and give him a time when he can get out of bed), or until he is calm. Ironically, he usually falls asleep. This is good, because most of the time these meltdowns happen when kiddo is tired (coicidence!? I think not!).

The part that kills me? After waking, he always says: "I'm sorry for my behavior Mom. I was being SO naughty...". Slays me. And then I wonder, "Am I doing this right!?" Ugh...

We talk and snuggle and I reward his cuteness with something I KNOW he'll love (typically a movie or a game together). Then I remind myself this will happen again... because you know, he's learning to be a human. And not just any human... a really awesome one!

Hurl It Into The Sea

In the New Year I found myself swaying away from resolutions. I have my reasons, but not because they're bad...resolutions are a really healthy part of life. The idea of turning over new leaves and attempting a better self for a healthier and happier life is a beautiful thing. If you made a resolution (or five)... yay you!

I steered away from turning over leaves all at once and decided on one thing: that I would take the time necessary to identify the parts of my life that need change; slow change.

The beauty of slow change is the full experience of processing and identifying the need for change; removing the parts of myself that need sluffing off and adding back the goodness that fills me with healthy newness.

Does this make sense?

I envision the season of Fall... crusty leaves falling away from the trees and bushes. The ground swelling with frozen water in the Winter. Tracks of ice, pushing the rock and dirt away from itself, leaving a crunch of frozen earth. Then in Spring... the thaw. Warmth filling the soil, the water seeping in. Seedlings laying in the soft dirt; feeling the security of the soil fall all around. The gentle breeze pushes the soil over these seeds. And then.... weeks go by.... the seeds sprout and create beauty. The beauty fills the earth and all of creation sings as it enjoys the warmth and lush of Summer.

Through the month of January I did a lot of thinking, praying, quiet time, reading, solitude (less socializing) and attempts at healthy living. With the healthy living I find my mind is clear to process and sort. In January, I tried to find the parts that need sluffing off.

As we're now looking into February I'm still unsure where I'm suppose to find healing in my own life. I recognize discomfort within myself... which is surely the onset of awareness... and I find myself at a loss when it comes to comforting others. I feel insecure and yet, strong. I still have a lack of clarity, which is not where I envisioned I'd be.

Oh me... I'm such a planner. Maybe my plans aren't what's supposed to happen here....

At this time of year, I want more than ever to "hurl my iniquities into the sea" and be filled with the goodness of the Lord. Maybe throughout the month of February I'll truly identify the parts of myself that need to be "hurled".

You will again have compassion on us; you will tread our sins underfoot and hurl all our iniquities into the depths of the sea. - Micah 7:19

30 Days Of Thanks - Day 28, Community

Today we had a friend come over and play for a little bit... and what a treasure he is! His Mamma brought him over while she went and had her hair cut and it was the highlight of my day!

That being said, she sent me a text this morning that said "Huds has a runny nose... are you still comfortable with him coming over?" Isn't she sweet? Of course I said, "Yes!"

To be fair, we're around kids all the time and seriously... I have a three year old. The child would lick an escalator at a moments notice. I'm not too worried about cold germs.

Perspective, people.

Anywho... when Katie came in the stress was evident on her face... and she continued to apologize and ask if it was still okay and how she felt like such a "bad mom"...

But really, it was okay. That Mamma needed to get out and get herself a haircut. Even thirty minutes of no baby can be SUCH a relief. I wanted that for her.

Poor Huds... he's definitely sick... sneezes and boogers and coughing. But don't all babies get sick? Don't they all cough and have boogers? Oh well...

He was precious. We snuggled, and laughed at the cat and chewed on everything (those things have been quarantined)! It was such a delight to rub those soft curls on his head while he drank his bottle and see him smile at me when we made eye contact.

Just... melts... my... heart.

Then Katie returned and I gave her snotty, sleepy little guy back to her. Assured her again, it was a treat. And who knows? Lucas or I may have a little cold to fight off this coming week... but it's inevitable. And frankly, I'd rather catch a cold from sweet, adorable little Hudson than an escalator any day.

Today, I'm thankful Katie allowed me to love on her precious little boy. I'm thankful Katie trusted me, went out on a limb and allowed herself to "burden" me with her snotty little man. Isn't that what we do in community... in family? We carry each other's burdens, willingly. And when it's willingly, it doesn't feel like a burden at all. It feels like a blessing... for all of us.

Bear one each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ. - Galatians 6:2

How Deep The Father's Love For Us

This is my hearts' song tonight; my prayer. I hope we all, in our daily struggles and commitments can remember how much love we have been given. And truly, how much love we have to give!


How deep the Father's love for us,
How vast beyond all measure
That He should give His only Son
To make a wretch His treasure

How great the pain of searing loss,
The Father turns His face away
As wounds which mar the chosen One,
Bring many sons to glory

Behold the Man upon a cross,
My sin upon His shoulders
Ashamed I hear my mocking voice,
Call out among the scoffers

It was my sin that left Him there
Until it was accomplished
His dying breath has brought me life
I know that it is finished

I will not boast in anything
No gifts, no power, no wisdom
But I will boast in Jesus Christ
His death and resurrection

Why should I gain from His reward?
I cannot give an answer
But this I know with all my heart
His wounds have paid my ransom

-Stuart Townsend

A Mother's Love

A mother's love is of peculiar interest to me. Our generation especially...we complain about our children and discuss how they've put us out. And yet, we snuggle these critters, give them the best we have and exhaust ourselves for them.

I'm in a place right now, that is difficult. Emotionally, that is. I dearly love my head-strong child...but his difficult and normal behavior has me struggling with sanity by the days' end. I find myself weary and broken.

Here I am complaining, as it is...and yet this child was, is and continues to be my choice. I will ALWAYS choose him, in spite of the farts, talk backs, loudness and defiance. His unwillingness to cooperate makes me shake with frustration and yet, my love runs deep.

How is this possible? How is it, that I am weary with emotion and fatigue, and in the morning I will be full of patience and joy for this little person? Is this comparable to God's love for us, only on a more majestic scale? We frustrate our God, but instead of destruction, he gives us grace...and love.

Really, it's a miracle.

For now, I need escape...in the form of blissful slumber. Prayers will be said and then, I will leave this hard, frustrating day behind me. My sleep and God's redeeming grace will fill me while I dream ...and tomorrow I will wake, full of mother's love.

Cute Cousins

Okay... for the sake of memories, I need to post these pics. My sister in law's baby girl (Corinne) is adorbs!

Love the drool face... and those gorgeous brown eyes!

Then there is Lucas... acting like a moron. Still love him, though.

And this was the best I could do... it's totally weird that my child (MY CHILD!) is a talker. Who won't stop talking.

Now... to get Trip in with these two!

Smashing, Crashing... and Cuddling

Raising a boy... there is nothing quite like it. I know some boys who aren't this way... but if a person should spend any amount of time with Lucas they'll say: "He's all boy." Literally and figuratively... yes, he's all boy.


Last night, he was in a "shootout" with the boy who was bagging our groceries. At first the gun issue was something that really rubbed me the wrong way. I was worried about the idea of guns and violence... but no matter what I did to try and prevent this fascination from developing in my child, it happened. Shooting is like, the coolest thing ever.

Lucas holding his Train Rocket Ship...of course.

We constantly talk about things like rocket ships, trains and cool trucks. While riding in the car Lucas will exclaim: "Mom, look at that!", while pointing to a crane or a cement truck.  He seeks out conversations about how things work or why things are the way they are. "What's that? is our biggest conversation starter.

My largest complaint when playing with Lucas is "being gentle"...it's a battle that seems endless. Smashing, crashing, booming and throwing are all fun in his book... but dangerous in mine. I long to have a boy who can be tender and use soft hands when handling small animals, small children and his mother. Fighting the good fight against roughness will be the end of me, for sure.

As Lucas grows, I'm continually amazed at how different he is from his niece, Brooklynn. Brooklynn is "all girl", so you can imagine how vast the differences are between the two loves of my life. That darling little girl can play with hair, clothes, makeup... all day long. Lucas could care less. And some days... having a little girl around sounds divine.

But for now... this little boy is all I have, and most of the time I'm tickled at his boyishness. His defiance, fists clenched, running everywhere and all the time. His humor and the snuggles... every day or so he says: "Mom, come... come here. Snuggle me." And then I melt and realize how much I love the boy... all of him. Dirt, scrapes, loud mouth and all.

In Feast Or Fallow

As I prepare for Sunday's worship session, I am rehearsing this song... and it speaks to me in this season of life:

In the harvest feast or the fallow ground
My certain hope is in Jesus found

My lot, my cup, my portion sure

Whatever comes, we shall endure
Whatever comes, we shall endure

Becca...Is...Engaged!

My longtime friend, Becca... is... engaged! Woo-hoo! I couldn't be happier for she and Brandon (and little Matthew). Love is grand and worth celebrating! Hope you guys can celebrate as much as possible these days!

Teasing Temperatures

I know it's only February, but I am ready for Spring! I can't seem to shake the blues and my excitement for life just hasn't been what I'd like it to be. Unable to put my finger on a logical reason and refusing to admit to straight up depression (denial is my key to survival), I'm blaming it on Winter.

Yep, Winter needs to go... or I need to go... to the Bahamas, that is!

Lucas and I were at the Park over in our old neighborhood and as I sat on the curb watching him play without a coat, I realized how eager for Spring I am. I'm ready to feel the warmth of the sun on my skin, smell the grass and let my toes be free in sandals. I'm ready to spend an endless day outdoors, doing nothing but munching on snacks and playing in the grass.

Ironically, it's supposed to snow tonight. Oh well. I guess I'll go back to hibernating in my cave (both literal and figurative) and longingly wait for another random day of mild warmth and teasing temps.

Our Friends In Haiti

Along with a few other folks from Missio Dei Community, Levi and Jeremy left for Haiti today. They'll only be gone seven short days, but their presence will be missed in our home and our community.

While in Northern Haiti, the group will seek out  potential partnerships with Christian pastors in Terrier Rouge and solidify relationships within that community.

While in Haiti, the group will be assisting Much Ministries with their efforts to inspire and empower locals in Gonaives toward a healthy, thriving livelihood. Our friend Grace has only begun her life in Gonaives and will have a very special time welcoming the group to her new home.

If you think of us, please say a little prayer for Haiti and our friends from Missio Dei, Salt Lake City!


--------> If interested, our group will have a blog of their travels, experiences and joys while on this trip.

http://blogs.hungryforlife.org/mdc-haiti-0212/

Toy Guns

I'm just gonna come out and say it: My kid plays with toy guns. And, we're kinda okay with that.

If I were a better mother, I would have done WAY more research on the topic, but I didn't. And so we're left with: My theory (which is probably way off base)... guns are a part of our lives...whether we like it or not. And let's be honest, sticks, rocks, and other inanimate objects end up being used as weapons in children's (my child's) imaginative play anyway. Guns are in Disney Movies, storybooks and in every children's toy store... you can't avoid them. 

In my feeble opinion, the breakdown begins when parents do not communicate with their children at pivotal points within their development. It begins with rules and as a child grows, teaching them that guns can potentially be very dangerous, if  not respected or handled properly. In addition, the importance of keeping "real" guns away from children. Being an informed parent regarding homes your child enters and ensuring all guns are kept safe and out of reach of those adorable little hands.

We have started with one gun rule: No pointing it at people. Not nice. And a little creepy.



Do you allow gun play in your home? Should I be more concerned about potentially violent imaginative play with my child? Do you think it's dangerous to let my child play with toy guns?

He Is Truly Incredible

Ahh, my precious little one. You are incredible...strong...intelligent and independent.

But now, in this moment...these days... your body is weak. You cry tears of defeat and I cry tears... of defeat.
What am I to do? How can I take this illness away... out of your body? Make you healthy and free of pain?

The mother's cry. Is it heard by God? I have hope that He sees my weakness, in spite of appearances. Does he cry this same prayer for us? I hold out and can only imagine the cry of a mother who is losing... I can't even say it. It's just too much.

"God, take these fears and this pain and my vulnerability. Make it a blessing. Make us stronger."

Tomorrow, this virus...this pain my child is experiencing will be less. He will laugh and run. And I... I will have immense thanks for a healthy, strong, intelligent and independent child. He truly is incredible. So is our boy.

We have much to be thankful for.

Sick Day

Normally... we find ourselves dealing with a sick little boy WHILE we're traveling, but Lucas held off until we were home. Sad little guy can't keep anything down today. So we're watching movies... and taking lots of cat naps.



In his sadness... Lucas said his first full sentence! He said: "I want Daddy." Nearly broke my heart... precious lil' goober.