Changes

First of all, I can hardly believe it's been so long since I've posted. I know I've always been a bit sporadic, but five months is a long time to be quiet. That's not very like me. I think the reason is that there has been so much going on inside that I've been processing, I haven't known what to say. So I've been just living life (which has been good, by the way) and waiting on the Lord for further direction.

In the meantime, there have been a few changes. First of all, we are pregnant! Our sweet baby #7 is due to come on Easter Sunday, April 8, 2012. I really hope that he/she is born on that day. It just means so much to me. This baby is such a gift from God. I have had such a hard time with my attitude about being pregnant in the past, but since adding Crown and Lion to our family in 2009, my heart has changed so much. I want to welcome every little one with whom God blesses us with open arms and an open heart. Including the process of their arrival, whether through my womb or that of another loving birth mother. So there has been a dual desire in my heart. I want ... oh, so badly ... to adopt again soon. And I also want to have the incredible opportunity to carry another little life inside, and this time with a good attitude!

Regarding adoption, we are still waiting on the Lord. Despite our completed home study, there have not yet been any open doors for us in this area. We are praying and hoping that it will not be too much longer!

And finally, we are moving! While doors have not yet opened for us to adopt again, doors have opened (for the first time since we sold our last home in 2006) for us to buy a house! It's a pretty farm house out in the country, and we are SO excited to move our family there. The property is an acre, which we plan to "homestead" farm with gardens, goats, chickens, and whatever else we can dream of. We will be surrounded by beautiful 20+ acre horse ranches, trees, and fields. This is a dream come true for Saltracer and me, as we have longed to raise our children in a more rural environment. The house itself is in some need of repair (hence our ability to purchase it for a low price), so we will be spending the first few months/year or more remodeling and renovating to make it just right. I'm actually looking forward to it, as I feel that this is my opportunity to really design my home just the way I want it. I haven't been so excited about creating a home since moving into our first home, a small townhouse, and setting it up when we were newlyweds.

Speaking of which, we celebrated our 10th anniversary during my "quiet period." We enjoyed a beautiful, romantic weekend in Sutter Creek at The Grey Gables bed and breakfast. It was so fun to relax, talk, walk, and dream together. That weekend was actually the seed for us coming home and seriously looking into purchasing a farm house. Now look what God has done! I am in awe.

I hope soon to post pictures of our new home. We'll have to post "before" and "after" pictures during the renovation. In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed this update and that God is blessing you abundantly, above all that you could ask or think.

Brain Fog

I suffer from brain fog. It's pretty strong right now so I'm having trouble concentrating enough to even figure out what I wanted to write. I didn't wake up with it. This morning I had energy and motivation. I was in a good mood, and I was looking forward to a great day with my kids: giving the babies baths, twisting TaTa's hair, cleaning the kitchen, vacuuming, folding cloth diapers, and then maybe doing some fun things like reading, watching a movie with my girls, or doing a project like making bubble gum with them (Laughter got a gum-making kit for her birthday last summer).

Then, about four hours after I woke up, the brain fog began. I thought maybe it was because I needed to eat something, so I did, but it didn't get better. Instead of feeling happy and motivated, I now feel tired and easily overwhelmed. I can barely do anything and I feel disconnected. It feels like there's a cloud in my forehead and behind my eyes. I just want to go to sleep. And it's frustrating, because there are so many other things I know I'd really rather do, but I don't have the energy anymore to do them. What happened? And why?

I told my sis-in-law, so she and the girls prayed for me. While praying, I thought of looking up "brain fog" online. I'd never thought of doing that before, so I thought perhaps it was the Holy Spirit's leading. To my surprise, quite a few links popped up. None terribly helpful though. Brain fog can be linked to a whole lot of things including fibromyalgia, chronic fatigue, menopause, stress, depression ... and the recommended remedies are just as varied. Exercise, rest, diet, meditation, supplements, and more are possible treatments. Oh, and it's also apparently not a recognized medical diagnosis. Just something that a lot of people say they suffer from. Even a lot of teenagers, which also surprised me.

What to do? I don't know, except to throw myself into the arms of my Creator Father and ask for His help. Abba, please heal me. I want to be well!

Let's Get Real Some More

Well, that was fun! It was a relief to get some of my hidden fears into the open, and I loved reading yours too. More stuff has come to mind today, so I think I'll keep sharing.

7. I really struggle to appreciate my children's artwork. I know that they need to create, and I love to see what they do, but in the pit of my stomach there is always this feeling of dread when they bring me something they just drew. Now I have another treasure, priceless to my child, which they want me to display prominently (preferably hanging on the wall next to my bed) and which I want to throw away as quickly as possible. Then I feel guilty for being so heartless. I have set up a system that works pretty well, but they keep insisting that this one is SO special that I just HAVE to hang it in my room (which is my husband's and my sanctuary and I want to keep it as clear of toys and kids' clutter as possible).

8. Speaking of keeping my room kid-free, we have had babies sharing our room for much of our marriage. And we have never had a real bassinet. They sleep in portable pack-n-plays. I feel bad about it sometimes, but mostly I just haven't seen the need to invest in something fancy when this works just as well.

9. We do not have enough storage space for our kids' clothing. Currently our 7-year-old keeps her clothes in a plastic 3-drawer thingy from Walmart that we happened to have. Our 6-year-old has a broken down dresser that was found as junk in front of someone's house which we refinished for her, but the drawers don't really work right. Our 4- and 2-year-olds have overflowing baskets on shelves in their closet (I actually like this arrangement; less fussy than a dresser and easier for them to put their clothes away themselves. Well, at least for the 4-year-old. Though he rarely puts them in the right basket.) Our babies used to share one dresser/changing table combo, but now that they're getting bigger I can't fit all their clothes in it, so our 9-month old has the dresser to herself while our 6-month-old's clothes are in (and on) a plastic bin next to the dresser.

10. I dislike crafts with a passion. The mess, the trouble, it just gets to me. Especially when there are toddlers around to make it more complicated. So, unlike my friend who does it anyway, I do not. At least, we do as little as I can get away with. Tonight my girls are painting because we got our school work done early and I told them we could do fun stuff this afternoon/evening. So I could hardly tell them no when they've been waiting weeks (or months) to do these projects (one of them is an unfinished box my 5-year-old got for her birthday last June). When I finally do let them do it I feel like SUCH a good Mommy though!

11. We usually eat dinner sometime between 7-8pm. Then the kids get in their jammies and go to bed. It's not how I grew up, and it seems rather strange to me, but our kids are used to it. And it just seems to work for us. But I always feel a little guilty that we have snack time around 4pm and don't have dinner until late. I'm not sure why I feel guilty about it though, except that we are not like a lot of other people who eat earlier.

Okay, my kids want me to help them with their crafts. Sigh. Guess I'd better go!

Let's Get Real

My friend, Courtney (who I only know through her blog), inspired this post. I try to be real in this blog (and in my life). Sometimes I feel I am too open. But I like people to know me in reality, not in some false image that I create for them.

EXCEPT when it comes to my house. In that area, I would love to have someone airbrush my life. (I'm just being honest.) Over the past year, my husband and I have been in a dinner group hosted by several couples who have become good friends. (One or two of them may even read this blog.) And I have grown terrified at the thought that we might ever need to take our turn hosting. Without exception, every one of their houses has been neater, cleaner, and most of all, more beautifully decorated than mine. We live comfortably and, for the most part, happily in this rental with terrible gray-brown carpet and plain white walls that need paint badly. We're actually grateful for the yucky carpet since our babies love to roll off of whatever blanket or towel I lay them on and spit up on it!

Anyway, I love to read things my friends write that are just real, so I am joining the Mommy Revolution and spreading the word to just Get Real. I enjoy relationships so much more when I am allowed past the facade, and I'm sure many others feel the same way. If you do, leave a comment or write your own post and leave a link so I can get to know you better too!

I've already shared about my embarrassment over my less-than-guest-ready-home. (Oh, and I forgot to mention the huge backyard that is a swamp during the winter and a lumpy mess of weeds and bare patches in the summer - but the kids LOVE to run and play in it so I love it too - except when we have guests to see its flaws.) Here are a few more confessions:

1. The Valentine's Date Disaster: My husband and I have given up going on dates on Valentine's Day since our fourth child was born on Feb. 14. So last week we went on our belated (and much anticipated) Valentine date. It started out well. We enjoyed a free dinner at On the Border with a gift card Paul had gotten from work. Afterward, as we were driving to the movie theater to see Edge of Darkness with our discounted movie tickets from Costco, we were pulled over and cited for not coming to a complete stop at a stop sign. Needless to say, that put a serious damper on the evening. After some awkward attempts on my part to help cheer my husband up (he was driving), we went ahead to the movie. (It was fun to see the bad guys get what they had coming to them.) We had planned to go out to dessert after the movie, but a series of miscommunications and assumptions led us to come home instead and go to bed frustrated and angry (at least, I was). I learned a lesson that I hope sticks with me: when someone just got a ticket (or something else bad happens to them), don't try to cheer them up. Just empathize. Be in the moment. Give it time. Perspective will come later, but sometimes you just need a chance to grieve, rant, be sad, be mad, whatever.

Last night we did get to finish our plans by having a dessert date at Cheesecake Factory where I ordered Chris's Outrageous Chocolate Cake. (It really is outrageous; I'm still working on it.) We talked about words and definitions and things that no one in the world would think funny except ourselves. We laughed and laughed and enjoyed each other. Then we came home and watched Ice Castles on Netflix instant watch. It wasn't at good a movie as I remembered it being when I was a teen.

That one was really long. I hope the rest are shorter.

2. Anger: I yelled at my four-year-old today while making my five-year-old cry by snapping at her. After a day filled with grace and many wonderful moments, I suddenly lost all patience. We got the math done, but I was sad to have lost some of the sparkle in their eyes. Maybe we can get it back tomorrow. Thank God for new days.

3. Bad Personal Hygiene: I don't get dressed every day, or even brush my hair or teeth. Today was one of those days.

4. Self-induced Sleep Deprivation: I stay up way too late nearly every night and pay for it in the morning. Tonight is one of those nights. I love to get up early to spend time with God, but most days it doesn't happen and I try to make it up at naptime.

5. Once a Week Whether They Need It Or Not: I only give my kids baths once a week. That may horrify some, but it's the way it is. It takes me all morning to get them all bathed. I just can't do it every day. So one day during the weekend is "bath day," and they all get clean, "whether they need it or not," as my husband says. (Believe me, by then they need it. - We do try to keep hands and faces clean in between, but their nails are truly disgusting by the end of the week.)

6. Procrastination: I hate cleaning bathrooms, putting away laundry, and picking up toys. So I procrastinate. And then, when it gets really bad, I yell at the kids for not keeping their bathroom clean, putting away their laundry, and picking up their toys. (I am gradually riding this cycle less and less, thankfully, but I still need help.)

I could go on and on, but you get the picture. I am a weak, sinful person who needs to admit that fact far more often than I actually do. I am learning to say I'm sorry more, but it's still hard for me. I need God, and I need to know how much I need Him. I want to be free of the need for approval from others, but I still crave it.

How about you? Want to share?

Snapshots from Today

Brand-new diapers drying in the sunshine ...

... and Rainbow proudly showing off her gap-toothed grin. She pulled it out all by herself after dinner!

Bring Liza Home

Here is a story I read today on Adoption Connect, a blog I follow. Please click the link below if you would like to donate $10 or more to help bring Liza home. As a bonus, you will also be entered into a raffle!

Rick and I were married almost 4 years ago. We were both single parents before we married who knew we wanted to have more children. When we were dating we started talking about adopting and being foster parents because we knew we were unable to have more children biologically. Rick himself is adopted and I was in foster care as a child so this is something that was near to both of our hearts. We also both have strong hearts for the orphan and those who are downtrodden. We have tried a few times to adopt through different avenues and the door has always been shut to us. We were beginning to think that it was never going to happen. Then a few months ago I had a dream that I was crossing a bridge and I was carrying two children. Rick came beside me, took one of the children out of my arms, and walked on ahead of me. When he was in front of me the child looked at me and smiled like a child would smile at their mother. I noticed that it was a little girl with blonde hair and she had Down syndrome. When I woke up I just knew that I had seen my daughter. Around that time I began to pay more attention to the children on the Reece's Rainbow site again and that's where I found Liza and started to pray for her and all of the rest of the children. The Sunday before we committed to her I felt that Holy Spirit telling me to find out the meaning of her name. After church I looked it up and was floored that it meant "God's Oath". (Before we were married God promised me during a church service that we would have more children.) I immediately stepped up my prayers and asked others to pray as well. That next Friday my husband told me he wanted to commit to her. and now here we are. Believing that god will provide for us to bring her home.


Please visit Journey to a Promise and consider giving a donation to help Liza come home.

http://journeytoapromise.blogspot.com/2009/03/lizas-first-fundraiser.html

The Heart of a Mother

Here is a beautiful article about life by Lorraine V. Murray. This is so encouraging to me with our surprise baby #5, because it reflects my heart.

Most life stories of great men open with their births. But in the case of the greatest man ever born, a man who was also God, the story starts with the actual moment of his conception.

And what a poignant moment it was, when an angel told a young girl that she would bear a son and call him “Jesus.” We can imagine her tangle of emotions at hearing this news.

She had to know that she was in danger of being harshly criticized. In fact, in her day, an unmarried woman who became pregnant faced death by stoning.

So when Mary said, “Let it be done to me according to thy word,” she was in effect saying, “I am willing to face death.”

Mary had plenty of reasons to tell the angel “Go away. Ask someone else.” She could have said, “I’m too young.” Or “I’m not married.” She certainly could have said, “I’m afraid!”

She obviously could have used many of the reasons that women rely on today when they decide to say “no” to a pregnancy: “I’m too poor” or “I’m too young” or “I’m unmarried” or “I have other plans.”

Talk about the ultimate unplanned pregnancy: This was what Mary faced!

It is very likely that many readers of this article are the results of unplanned pregnancies. Some may have been conceived after their parents had decided their family was big enough. Maybe others were conceived because Mom thought she was past childbearing days, and then: Surprise!

But even if a pregnancy is unplanned and comes as a shock to the parents, here is the important part: There is no unplanned life.

You see, God doesn’t create any child accidentally because God doesn’t make mistakes. So even if we stunned our parents, we certainly didn’t surprise God.

And the feast of the Annunciation reminds us of the old saying that “God writes straight with crooked lines.”

Here are some crooked lines in the life of Christ: His mother was very young, and she wasn’t married. But God had everything straightened out to protect Mary, so that Christ would be born nine months later.

God sent an angel to let Joseph know in a dream that Mary’s account of her pregnancy was true. And because Joseph accepted God’s plan and married Mary, she avoided social ostracism and stoning.

There are crooked lines in every life. In my own, my mother had a miscarriage before bearing my older sister, and my sister’s birth was long and dangerous. So arduous, in fact, that the doctors sternly warned my mother against having more children.

And then, on a day near Thanksgiving in Chicago, where my parents were visiting family, my story began: I was conceived in my mother’s womb. And I have to believe that my mother, Grace, had very mixed emotions when the doctors confirmed that she was pregnant.

After all, as she looked into the future, she saw another arduous delivery and maybe even death. But she went ahead and had the baby, the one she named Lorraine with Grace as a middle name.

Obviously, St. Luke could have begun the story of Christ’s life with his birth in the stable, rather than nine months earlier at his conception. But it was not by accident that he opened the narrative where he did.

He was following God’s plan when he wrote the narrative of Christ’s life, and was guided by the Holy Spirit to tell the truth with a capital T.

And that Truth is this: Christ’s life started just like every life begins. The Word was made flesh not in a hospital room, not in an inn, not in a stable.

Instead, God became man in a womb at the very moment Mary said “yes.”

And that womb had to be nurturing and protective, just as the wombs that brought each of us into the world.

Perhaps a reason that Christ’s story begins at conception is to bring a message to a world in which the womb is no longer a safe haven.

Perhaps it is to remind us that the most beautiful words in the world are not those spoken at the birth of a baby when the doctor pronounces the child alive and healthy.

Instead, the most exquisite words are the little veiled conversation that goes on in the heart of the mother many months earlier, when she first learns that she is pregnant.

The loveliest words of all come despite inconvenience, despite having other plans, despite being too young or too old, despite being too poor, despite being scared, despite being unmarried, despite being afraid of death.

The most beautiful words of all come at the moment when the mother whispers to God: “Let it be.” And that’s where the story begins.

Broken

I have always been a bit clumsy, but it seems like lately there has been a rash of breakages and losses in our house. From the broken serving bowls a couple of weeks ago, lost cell phone and charger (finally found after three weeks) and other miscellaneous things, to today when I broiled the bread rising in the oven, along with the mixing bowl ($50 to replace) and plastic wrap covering it.

This brings up so many emotions ... fear of rejection, frustration, hopelessness, anger ... I don't even know how to respond. What are You showing me in this, Lord? I feel helpless on the outside, and with every break and loss I feel more lost and broken on the inside. So I am coming to You to be mended, healed, and found. Please help me.

Questions of Prayer, Healing, Life, and Death

It's Sunday evening. The kids are all in bed. The girls asked if they could sleep together tonight, promising that they really wouldn't talk. This led to a conversation about promising things that they would never follow through on (and telling them that I never expect them to sleep together without talking, just to keep it quiet). I was just upstairs swaddling Thunder Buddy (Daddy's nickname) so he would stop crying and go to sleep, and I heard them whispering to each other in bed. I have so many fond memories of late-night conversations in bed with my sisters. Hearing their quiet giggles makes my heart smile.

I kissed Thunder a little more tenderly after I swaddled him tonight. This evening I've been reading a blog by a mother who lost her little one around the same time that we received our miracle baby. I sobbed as I watched a slideshow of the day her baby was born.

The Lord is so much greater and more beautiful and more terrible and more tender than I can comprehend.

While we are rejoicing over the birth of our little one, another mother is losing hers.

One person is healed and another continues in chronic pain.

He relieves my chronic neck and shoulder pain without any fanfare while I continue to struggle with depression and hypothyroidism.

One night a couple of weeks ago, I prayed for Thunder who was coughing and struggling to sleep through a stuffy nose. At first I was frustrated and complaining, God, why don't you heal him? Then my heart suddenly received the grace to be humble, and I simply lifted him up before the throne of grace, asking God to touch his little body. He immediately went into a peaceful sleep for the rest of the night and only coughed a couple more times over the next day or two.

My Salt Racer endures constant back and neck pain. Visits to the chiropractor helped for a season, but when we trimmed our budget a couple of years ago he stopped going. The pain drains his energy. I pray for him, sometimes with much faith and sometimes with little. One night my heart was filled with such childlike faith. I placed my hands on his neck and lower back and lifted him up to Abba, knowing that my prayers were being heard and that He cared for us and delighted to hear us asking Him for help. I even felt something shifting in his back. He said he felt it too.

Since then, he's had some of his worst days.

I wonder, is it my fault? Am I not praying hard enough or consistently enough? Does God care? Why doesn't He heal my husband? Why doesn't He heal me?

I am afraid I'm becoming like an Israelite in the wilderness--tired and complaining. Forgetting all the miracles God has done for me. Experiencing a little discomfort (or a lot), and suddenly my memory of His goodness becomes very short. I start to question His goodness. What a fickle, unruly heart I have!

Heart, I would teach you to rest in the Lord with the trust of a little child.

On Friday I got the results of a blood test that show my thyroid is still not working right. Had I gotten the results I hoped for, I would be rejoicing. Since I didn't, I am discouraged. This morning, I read this excerpt from a letter by the apostle Paul:

"... we were so utterly and unbearably weighed down and crushed that we despaired even of life [itself]. Indeed, we felt within ourselves that we had received the [very] sentence of death, but that was to keep us from trusting in and depending on ourselves instead of on God Who raises the dead. [For it is He] Who rescued and saved us from such a perilous death, and He will still rescue and save us; in and on Him we have set our hope (our joyful and confident expectation) that He will again deliver us [from danger and destruction and draw us to Himself] ..." (2Corinthians 1:8b-10 AMP).

As I am writing this, my sister-in-law, Beloved Pearl, is watching The Passion of the Christ. Jesus is being beaten and mocked, and Peter is so confused by what is going on that he is denying his Lord. He does not understand the heart of a Father who would love His Son so much and yet allow Him to suffer defeat, discouragement, and death. I am reminded of these words:

"Because you have made the Lord your refuge, and the Most High your dwelling place, there shall no evil befall you, nor any plague or calamity come near your tent. For He will give His angels [especial] charge over you to accompany and defend and preserve you in all your ways [of obedience and service]. They shall bear you up on their hands, lest you dash your foot against a stone" (Psalm 91:9-12 AMP).

These words are so confusing in light of very real circumstances, even the circumstances of Jesus' life, that Satan used them to try to confuse and tempt the Son of God (Luke 4:10). If anyone deserved this level of protection, it was Jesus. Yet He suffered more than any man.

What does that mean, God?

The answer begins here:

"He shall call upon Me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him" (Psalm 91:15 AMP).

He does not promise that we would not suffer, but that those who dwell "in the secret place of the Most High" (91:1) shall have no evil befall them. In other words, nothing can happen to them outside of Abba's perfect, loving will. In the case of Jesus, it was the Father's will to crush His Son:

"Yet it was the will of the Lord to bruise Him; He has put Him to grief and made Him sick" (Isa 53:10a AMP).

Jesus is being whipped. Satan is watching, seeming to think that he is winning. God's perfect will is being done. And the Son is submitting willingly. (The scene currently playing from The Passion.)

These are the paradoxes in which we live. Lord, I would like to understand. But more than that, I would like to trust You as did Your Firstborn. He didn't question or complain. He rested in Your love even when You lovingly assigned Him to endure torture and death. He endured everything You asked because He knew Who You Are and Who He Is in You. No circumstance would ever cause Him to become offended or disobedient to You, the only One who is Good.

I, too, am Your child. Help me to rest in You as He did. Help me to trust You no matter what.

No matter what.

No matter what.

Thank You for these struggles that keep me from trusting in myself. Help me to look beyond the present death and despair. For You are the God who raises the dead.