My Forever Valentine

I'm THAT girl.

You know the one- the child who cooks supper in her plastic kitchen and sets the table for two: herself and her imaginary husband.  The little girl who cradles her baby doll while singing it it sleep and telling her imaginary husband how perfect it is.

I knew at an early age that love was something I wanted.   I often had daydreams of what my adult life would look like.  I pictured the adoring husband, happy kids, loyal dog and white picket fence. I could never see my husband or children's faces, but they were always so beautiful.

Growing up in church, I learned what true love is.  When you first hear the story of Jesus and what He did for us, you know what love is.  When God's sacrifice truly hits home and touches your heart, you know what love is.  When the magnitude of that sacrifice truly touched me for the first time, it changed the way I thought about everything, including my future family.

The older I got, the more mature my fantasies became.  I still imagined my family, but those dreams became more realistic.  One Sunday evening at youth group, we divided into male and female groups and discussed finding the person God made for each of us.  That night, reality hit me like a ton of bricks and my view of my future husband changed completely.

That night, I wrote a letter to my future husband.   I can see it in my mind- purple ink on unlined paper, and well, slanted because who can write on unlined paper??  That night, I began to pray for my future husband- not that God would bring him to me because I knew He would, but that He would protect him in the trying teenager years and would mold him into  the man He intended him to be.  I was only in 7th grade, but had a clear perspective.

A few years later, I kissed dating goodbye.  Reading the book changed my dating life.  Throughout the remainder of my school years, I was very picky about who I dated.  That meant most weekends were spent at home while my friends were at the movies with new guys, but to me, dating just to have something to do wasn't worth it.  I dated sporadically, and at one point, thought briefly that I had found a potential match.  He wasn't who God had in mind.  While that realization hurt at the time, God gently reminded me that His plan is ALWAYS better than mine.  Boy, was he right!

At times, pledging myself to a man that still had no face in my dreams and whose name I didn't know was HARD.  When it got tough, I found myself cuddling up with a [lined] piece of paper and penning another letter.

March 8, 2008 was a day that changed my life, and the day that God showed me His promises are good, even if they seem to take forever to come to fruition.  That's the day I met the man God had created with me in mind, the man who would give me the most beautiful baby boy ever (totally not biased) and who would love me the way God intended me to be loved.

March 17, 2008

I can remember that night in vivid detail.  I was with my friend, Shannon, eating dessert pizza and drinking chocolate martinis (hello, sugar high!).  I walked outside and saw Clay against the rail.  He was in jeans and a dark purple Polo.  I should have noticed his eyes or smile first, but his arms caught my eye immediately.

As I typed that, I felt like God laughed.  He built Clay and put those guns on him for me.  Bwahaha.

Memorial Day 2008

My relationship with Clay blossomed quickly and was always so easy.  Conversation flowed with no awkward pauses and we had a lot in common.  (Too bad football loyalty is not one of them)  He kept me laughing and on my toes. I could let my guard down and just be myself.  He held my hand when we walked beside each other, and his hugs made me feel more secure than any ever had.  I missed him when we weren't together and wanted time with him daily.  Seeing him gave me butterflies, and even a kiss on the forehead left me breathless.  He became my sounding board and a shoulder to lean on.  Even though his Facebook-appointed title was boyfriend, it was far too shallow to describe what he was to me.  He was so much more- he was my best friend.  Within weeks, I knew that He was the one I had been praying so long for.

And then trouble hit.

Less than 5 months in, our relationship turned rocky overnight.  The next 16 months were tough.  We spent days arguing through text and nights fighting in person.  We broke up, got back together, broke up then hung out as "friends."  That always resulted in getting back together and repeating the vicious cycle many times over.  There were hurt feelings, lies, tears, anger, disappointment and distrust on both sides.  Through it all, we both felt like we were supposed to be together, but just could not make it work.  In November 2009, we called it quits for good.

(Yeah right.  Try to tell God you're changing His plan and see how He works.)

For the next month, we barely spoke.  We didn't see each other.  At all.

I jumped into two small groups and immersed myself in God and new friends.  I opened up about our issues to people I could trust so I could get clarity on the situation and to allow my heart to heal.  I specifically remember telling my friend, Amanda, about it.  While I don't remember the words she spoke, I remember the feeling that came over me.  Her words were divinely chosen and breathed new life into me.  A weight was immediately lifted from my shoulders and the hard shell around my heart began to crack and fall off.  When the conversation ended, I felt renewed, which is something I had wanted for so long.

Just two weeks after talking with Amanda, I saw Clay again.  The love I had for him was still there, but I was surprised that none of the other feelings- resentment, anger, distrust, sadness, guilt- were.  We spent the next year rebuilding our relationship.  God confirmed many times what we had known all along- that we were right where we belonged.  He used whatever means necessary to speak to us: friends, family and even movies.  Thinking back, I am so amazed at how quickly God was able to mend us when we just gave up and laid our problems at His feet.  What we couldn't resolve in 16 months took him no time.

In May 2011, I wrote to my future husband one more time.  I bundled it with the letters I had written previously, and on June 4, 2011, he finally got to read them right before I walked down to the aisle to become his wife.





We've been married for over 2.5 years now.  Our lives have changed so much since the day we met.  College classes have been replaced with jobs, and crazy professors with crazy coworkers.  Afternoons at the pool are now spent with floaties and squirt toys.  Date night conversation usually centers around the funny things Bryson did that day and how much we miss him already.  I still set the table for 2, but also pull up a highchair and we arm ourselves against food flying from all directions.  If we stay in for a movie night, it's usually produced by Disney and is interrupted by milk runs and diaper changes.  

Through all the change, a lot has remained the same.  I still get butterflies when I see him, especially when he's playing with our son.  His arms are still the safest place to be.  I miss him when we aren't together and anxiously await the end of the day when we're reunited.  He's still the first person I run to when I need to talk or need help.  Unfortunately, he's also still an Auburn fan.  Above all, he is still my best friend, my soulmate and the answer to hundreds of prayers.

Looking back at the fantasies of my childhood, my life doesn't compare.  I didn't get the things I daydreamed about, wished upon stars for, or the things I prayed about.  I got abundantly more.  Those elaborate childhood fantasies pale in comparison to reality.

Clay, 

I thank God for loving me more than I deserve, and for giving me more than I could have ever imagined.  You are so much more than I could have even asked for- I never would have even been able to dream up someone so perfect for me.  I am so thankful that it's you that God chose to be my partner in life.  We've been through so much already and I'm looking forward to many more years of adventures, firsts, lasts and everything in between.  I love you so much.  U=my<3

Worth Bragging On

Thinking back on my life, I can think of countless times my mom bragged about me.  Even my smallest accomplishments made her proud.  I didn't understand the fuss over finally spelling "daughter" correctly (seriously, why the u-g-h??), perfecting my cartwheel or landing a duet in my church youth group's play.  Actually, I can understand the last one- I'm a LOUSY singer and the fuss was probably a way to give me confidence, even though I seriously STUNK.  I was easily embarrassed by the attention lavished on me for my accomplishments and just didn't get it!

Before I had Bryson, I remember people saying they didn't like seeing babies all over Facebook.  In hindsight, I realize those people probably aren't parents.  I'm a sucker for kids and puppies, so I never minded my newsfeed being plastered with gummy grins and first steps, but now those pictures excite me even more.  Now that I'm a mom, I understand why parents think seemingly mundane activities, like sleeping, are worthy of a shoutout on Facebook.  My kid is a cute sleeper and I would hate it if people had to miss that he passed out holding his bottle or that he's taken over Mommy's bed yet again.

I'd hate those of you who aren't my Facebook friend to miss the cuteness of him falling asleep on Mommy's pillow... with a bottle.

I am extremely blessed to have friends with babies close to Bryson's age.  Since I'm a new mom, there are so many unknowns and having people to bounce things off of is a tremendous help.  I have people to tell me what works for them or about their experiences with certain sippy cups and diapers.  I get to vent when I'm having a hard time with a new phase, and I have people to celebrate with when we reach a milestone.  As an added bonus, I get to see lots of baby feet, new crawlers and funny sleeping poses when I sign on to Facebook.

In having so many mommy friends, I have also experienced a concerning problem that I think all mothers can relate to.  Since children develop at their own pace, it's very easy as a mother to get wrapped up in what your child is or isn't doing.  At one time or another, most of my mommy friends have expressed jealousy for something Bryson is doing that their child isn't, and in turn, I have reciprocated those feelings for something Bryson hasn't yet mastered.

Yesterday, I was talking to a friend whose child wakes up at 3:15 AM like clockwork.  She's exhausted since she doesn't go to sleep at 7:30 PM like her child.  Of course, since she's so fatigued, she's jealous that Bryson sleeps so well.  Our conversation eventually moved to her child's new mobility and it was my turn to be jealous.  I have a child who has ZERO interest in crawling and prefers to stand.

I read an article a few weeks ago on parenting a boy that also addressed baby comparison and our conversation reminded me of it. In a world of competition, it's so easy to put your child on a stage and have them compete without their knowledge.  For some reason, we want "bragging rights" over developmental milestones.

All those years ago when I told all the boys in my class that girls ruled and boys drooled, I was right.  Go figure.  Babies have been studied for years, and it's a scientific fact that girls develop quicker than boys.  Of course, contrary to every female's belief, it eventually levels out and boys catch up to their female counterparts developmentally.  (Of course, every random scratch in public and other caveman-like behavior would make you think differently.)  So what does this mean for us moms of boys?  It means we get the shaft now, but when they're in their teenage years, we get deep voices while moms of girls are dealing with periods, girl fights and bras!

It's easy to get discouraged if it seems like everyone else's baby has reached a milestone and yours is far behind.  It's just as easy to get overly excited when your baby reaches a milestone well before his/her peers. (S)He'll reach one milestone months in advance and may reach the next one months late.  The timing doesn't matter- every baby will reach milestones at a different pace and at this age, worrying over whether he/she is slow or extremely gifted is silly.

I'm saying all of this [from the comfort of my soapbox] to try to drive the point home- each baby is his or her own person.  (S)He is perfectly content with his/her development and is happy right where he/she is. The only person in this competition is you.  Don't drag your baby into it.  (S)He already has too much going on in his/her body and mind.

Being a mom is hard enough without this weight we add to our shoulders.  In today's Pinterest-inspired society, women are expected to be tiny with an awesome wardrobe, to have an immaculate home with a design worthy of the front cover of Better Homes & Gardens and to be able to cook elaborate meals complete with an artfully decorated cookie for dessert.  Add being a super mom on top of it, and a woman's circuits are easily overloaded.  I say we, as women, declare to drop the expectations we put on ourselves and our children.  That means being healthy and attractive to your husband, but not killing yourself to be a size 0, using the homes we're blessed with to keep our children dry and safe and feeding our families healthy meals, even if they taste much better than they look.  Most importantly, that means continuing to be a super mom, but only because that's what your child needs you to be, and not to ensure your child is superior to other kids.

No matter where your child is developmentally, every milestone is worthy of praise.  His first tooth is exciting, and her first steps are worth celebrating, so even if your child is "late" to the party, it's worth shouting from the rooftops... and posting on Facebook.

Amazing Love

I've known love for a long time. I have loved God since I can remember and am blessed to have an incredible family and friends that I love so much.  I experienced a new kind of love in spring of 2008 when I fell in love with my husband and that love deepens with each day that passes.  

However, at 5:32 PM on Thursday, June 28, I experienced a kind of love I've never known.  It was at that moment that a completely new part of my heart opened up. It was the moment I finally got to meet my son.

At around 1:45 on Wednesday, June 27th, I stood up from my desk and felt a small gush of fluid. It was a strange feeling and I honestly had to convince myself I hadn't had an accident on myself (ha).  The trickles continued for 30 minutes, so I called the doctor and left work immediately. The doctor confirmed that my water had broken, so I was immediately admitted to the hospital. 

The next few minutes were a whirlwind.  I had one nurse checking me in, another getting my bed and gown ready and yet another starting my IV and drawing blood.  As nervous as I had been about giving birth, I was sitting on the bed with a huge smile on my face and laughing with the nurses when Clay came in.  Our dream of becoming parents was finally becoming a reality and the thought of seeing my precious little boy overruled any fear or anxiety I had.

Because my water had broken, I was forced to stay in the bed to prevent infection.  I was already 3 centimeters dilated and 50% effaced on arrival, and they expected me to start contracting on my own through the night. I had a few erratic contractions throughout that sleepless night, but they weren't measurable or becoming regular, so the nurse added Pitocin to my IV at 6:00 AM.

By 7:00, I was having fairly intense contractions that were 2 minutes apart. They really began hurting at 7:30 and by 7:45, were enough to make me forget to breathe. Our nurse, Rhonda, sent everyone to the waiting room to check dilation and to give me a few minutes to relax. I was already at 5 cm and was insistent on holding out for the epidural until 7 cm... until one big contraction sent me over the edge.

I began involuntarily shaking and couldn't control it.  Even feeding myself ice chips was impossible, so Clay had to spoon them into my mouth. I don't know what caused it, but the nurse said it was a natural reaction to being in labor.  I'm glad to hear that- I thought I was just being a weenie. :)

I got the epidural at 9:15, when I was 6 cm dilated. I began to feel relief quickly.  I could no longer move the left side of my body, but after 3 contractions, noticed I was still having pain in a localized area on my right side. It intensified with each contraction and one even made me cry. I could still move my right leg, a sure sign that the epidural was not working.  The anesthesiologist gave me an additional dose of meds and they rolled me to the right to get the meds to move, but it didn't work. I had to have the epidural removed and reinserted. Thirty seconds later, I was numb from the waist down and the involuntary shaking stopped.

The next few hours seemed to last an eternity.  I wasn't feeling any pain, but my legs tingled.  I made a game out of trying to move my legs, but lost every time.  No matter how hard I tried, I had no control of anything below the belt.  Clay had to move my legs for me when the tingling got too intense and once when he moved me, I discovered the reason behind the tingle.  Thanks to the epidural, my feet and legs were retaining water and looked like I weighed 400 pounds.  

Finally, at 2:40 PM, I was at 10 cm and Bryson was ready to be born!

I started pushing at 3:00 PM.  My contractions were strong and the nurse said we'd push through them so the combination of the force of the contraction and pushing would move him down.  The first push was an experience I can't describe.  I had waited so long for this moment, but I was so unsure of what I was doing.  It was suddenly very real that I was about to give birth, something I have feared my entire life. Enter involuntary shaking... (Maybe I am just a weenie) I began to make real progress after roughly an hour of pushing, but little man was stubborn (imagine that) and was moving slowly.  I was exhausted, both physically and emotionally, and when I heard the nurse tell a person over speaker that my progress was slow, I wanted to cry.  

At 5:10, my doctor came in to check on me and could see Bryson's head was only a 1/2 inch away, but he had turned it to the right.  He gave me two options: use the forceps or go in for a c-section.  I elected to have him use the forceps.  He told me we had one shot- if the forceps didn't work with the next set of pushes, we would be going in for a c-section. I immediately began praying that God would push this baby out!

A few minutes later, the drapes were set up around me and my doctor was preparing me to push one last time.  It was then that my contractions decided to calm down... of course.  Finally, a contraction began and I pushed once and Bryson's head was out.  His body followed very quickly without any help from me. Actually delivering him was nowhere near as scary as I'd expected.  I didn't feel any pain, but did feel the pressure of his head.  Knowing he was out was a surreal, indescribable feeling. Relief flooded my body and I screamed, then began crying uncontrollably. I had done it- I made it through labor and my little boy had finally entered the world.

At 5:32, I heard his first cry and my pink and purple little boy was laid on my chest.  

There was a scurry of activity in the next few minutes.  As I was being tended to, Bryson was weighed and measured.  He weighed in a 7 pounds 12.7 ounces and was 21.25 inches long.

After he was cleaned up, the nurses handed Bryson over to his daddy.  Clay couldn't take his eyes off of Bryson and stared at him in awe.  Watching my husband with our son may have been the most precious moment of the day.

Clay and I got a few minutes alone with our little guy before anyone came in.  Those first few moments as a family of 3 will be forever etched in my mind.  

After awhile, our family was allowed in to meet our precious little man. We spent most of the night surrounded by family and friends. At around 8:30, we were finally alone with Bryson for the first time. It was awesome to have our little family together and just enjoy time with this little guy we had waited so long for.  

Around 9:00 that night, a nurse came in to tell us that because Bryson had a fever of 100.6 and had grunted a little right after birth, they were going to do some precautionary tests. Within the hour, we learned that he had a pneumothorax, or a collapsed lung.  Hearing the news sent us into a tailspin!  The neonatalogist came to our room to explain the situation.  It's a fairly common condition, but Bryson's was pretty large.  To someone who isn't in the medical field, especially new parents, hearing something like that is awful.  Although the doctor did a terrible job explaining and made us think the worse, a pneumothorax isn't a huge deal. It is just a pocket of air next to the lung that prevents the lung from expanding as far as it should.  It can typically be resolved with a round of antibiotics.

They took him to the NICU immediately and hooked him up to all kinds of machines, one of which measured his blood oxygen. It was at 100%, so the pneumothorax was not affecting his breathing. They hooked him up to an IV and gave him antibiotics. 

The following morning, we got to the NICU early.  In addition to finding out the pneumothorax had improved, we also learned that Bryson's white blood cell count was elevated, signifying an infection. The doctor, who has a reputation for being very conservative, informed us that he would be doing a spinal tap to rule out meningitis, even though he was already certain that wasn't the cause. As expected, the results indicated that Bryson didn't have meningitis. 

Twenty-four hours later, on Saturday morning, his white blood cell count was normal and the pneumothorax had improved even more.  The doctor informed us he would no longer be testing his blood and wouldn't do another chest x-ray until Monday morning.  

I was discharged from the hospital on Saturday evening. That morning, I awoke before Clay and cried until he woke up... then cried some more. We had been looking forward to bringing our little guy into the world and taking him home to meet his fur sisters for so long and now we were facing going home without him. To know we were leaving without him broke my heart. Leaving him in the hospital that first night was the hardest thing I have ever had to do.

Until Saturday night, we had only told a few people what was going on, but because people were planning to visit when we got home, we decided to post about Bryson's condition on Facebook.  The responses we received were overwhelming. Wall comments, Facebook messages, phone calls and text messages began pouring in.  With so many people praying for our little man, we had no doubt that Monday's chest x-ray would reveal a completely healthy lung.

On Monday, three days after his birth, the pneumothorax was gone.  Praise God!  If antibiotics wouldn't have worked, a needle or chest tube would have been inserted in his chest.  I'll take antibiotics to the alternative any day! 

It is now Thursday, July 5 and we are still in the NICU.  Although the pneumothorax is gone and his white blood cell counts are normal, little man has to receive a 10-day cycle of antibiotics.  We spend 11-12 hours a day at the hospital.  He is in a crib and is only hooked up to machines for 20-30 minutes a day when he gets antibiotics, so we spend the day holding him and watching him sleep, feeding him, changing diapers and taking hundreds of pictures.  Leaving him at night has gotten easier, only because we know now that he is healthy and in good hands, but it's still so hard to enjoy being home when he is stuck in a stark white hospital room.

In his first week of life, Bryson has had 4 chest x-rays, a spinal tap and a number of IV ports.   He has been hooked up to a pulse oximeter and various sensors since he was 5-hours-old.  He currently has an antibiotic catheter port on the right side of his head. He's handled everything like a champ. While it's been incredibly difficult to see this little boy we love so dearly go through so much in his first week of life, it's a relief to know that he is completely healthy.

The last week has been trying and we've ridden a roller coaster of emotion, but it has been the best week of my life.  Not only did I finally get to meet the newest love of my life, but I have also seen God work through Him.  I have spent countless hours of quality time with my two favorite men and we have been blessed by so many friends and family.


On Saturday night, Clay and I will stay in a suite at the hospital and will finally get to spend the first night with our son.  We will bring him home on Sunday, July 8 and will finally get to begin our lives as a family of 5.  


I have taken my time with writing this, partially to ensure its accuracy, but also to reflect on the last 7 days.  While Bryson's first few days of life were not what we had planned, God has turned this test into a testimony.  Since we learned that Bryson was on his way, God has been faithful and has shown Himself to us on so many occasions.  The last week has been no exception and I am so grateful that He has been with us every step of the way.


Clay has always been a great husband and I have known for a long time that he would be an incredible dad, but this week, he's been tested and has passed with flying colors.  From the delivery room, to the NICU, to our babyless nights at home, he has been my rock.  He's been strong when I needed him to be and is soft and gentle with our son.  He's held my hand to comfort me, both through tremendous physical discomfort and incredible emotional distress.  He's helped me with the gross parts of labor and recovery without batting an eye and has taken care of me through all my pain and general ickiness.  I am so blessed to have him as my partner in parenthood and in life.


Without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, Bryson Reed..........

 

Dear Bryson

Dear Bryson,

The time has finally arrived!  In just 6 days (or less), Daddy and I finally get to meet you!  We've waited a long time for this day and each minute seems to pass slower than the one before it.  I'll be honest- I'm a bundle of emotions right now.  

I'm nervous.  I've never had a baby before and delivery has always been at the top of the list of my greatest fears.  I've never been a mom before and being responsible for another life is a daunting task.  Not only do I have to keep you alive somehow, but I also have to teach you to live life on your own.  

I'm a little sad.  For the last 38 weeks, I've been able to monopolize you.  Sure, other people can feel your movements, but no one can feel what I do.  Nobody has the bond that you and I share.  Pretty soon, I have to share you with your Daddy, grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins.  

Most of all, I'm thrilled.  I finally get to hold you and feel your hands wrap around my finger.  We will finally get the answer to what your little nose looks like and whose lips you have.  I finally get to see if you'll come out looking like a monkey like I did when I was born and if you'll have a head full of hair or just peach fuzz (my money's on lots of hair!).  I'm elated that I finally get to see you and your daddy interact.  He's been waiting patiently, but is very anxious to meet his little buddy.  I'd be lying if I said I wasn't slightly excited to see him change your diaper for the first time.  He's a little skittish when it comes to bodily processes, so I may just have to pull out the video camera for the big event.  Shh... just don't tell him!


When Daddy and I first learned you were on your way, you were literally just a ball of cells that was approximately .04 inches long.  That's TINY.  We have been amazed as we watched you grow from that to the big boy you are now.  While we don't know just how big you are, if my belly is any kind of indicator, you are growing leaps and bounds each week.

You continue to amaze and delight me with everything you do.  I've already told you I'm whipped and goodness, is that ever true.  Your daddy and I have a weekly Law and Order SVU date on Wednesday night.  It's been one of my favorite shows since its pilot episode, but lately, I'd rather watch you bounce around.  You see, it comes on at 9:00 PM and that's your play time, so you're all over the place and impossible for this mama to resist.  I can't imagine what it's going to be like when you're here.  Ooooh, I'm in so much trouble.  

I think by now you know how enamored your daddy and I are with you, but what you don't know is how much so many others love you.  Although you don't know it, we have spent the last few months being showered with love.  You're already so loved that SIX showers have been arranged for you and even more people randomly send you things.  You get more mail than Daddy and I do!  I sat in the floor of your bedroom the other night and took an inventory of your things.  It's humbling to know that so many people care about our little boy already.

I tell you this now so that one day you will stumble across this post and see that you've been loved from the moment people learned of your growing life.  I hope that the timing works out perfectly so that you get the reminder when you need it the most.  


Life isn't always easy, kid.  Unfortunately, you will encounter circumstances and people that will bring you down.  You may not always feel loved and may even get lonely.  I already hate the thought of that and wish I could take those times from you, but I know that those times will be the ones that shape you into the man you will become.  You will inevitably look back over those hard times and see that God was always able to turn difficulty into a lesson.


I hope and pray that you know that Daddy and I will ALWAYS be there for you, both during hard times and good times.  No matter how alone you may feel, we are always going to have a shoulder for you to cry on and an ear to listen to your problems.  You've got an even better confidante in your Creator- there's no better shoulder or ear when you're in pain.


Daddy and I love you so much and even though we've never laid eyes on you, we are already your biggest fans.  We can't wait to meet you and are counting down the days!


See you soon, kiddo!  


Love,
Mommy

My First Test of Faith as a Parent

Growing up, when I got in trouble for something, my mom always said, "You'll understand when you're a parent." I got the same response when she requested I call her upon reaching my destination (even my honeymoon!) or she called in a panic because it had been a few days since we had spoken.

I swear, the woman is always right! It wasn't until I found out about Bryson that I understood the concerns that come with having children. The days before our first appointment were filled with doubt. Was I really pregnant? Was our little one okay in there? Between each monthly appointment, those same fears creep in. Am I eating enough or the right things to help him develop correctly? Did the doctors mess up by giving me that antibiotic? Did I just break his foot or whatever's stuck at my hip when I sat down too hard? (Don't make fun- it knocked the wind out of me, so I just knew I crushed toes. Ha)

Yesterday's appointment revealed my first true test of faith as parent.

We went to our appointment excited to see our little guy again. Since we're at 20 weeks, we were going to get to see him for an extended period while they check his heart, brain, spine and kidneys, and check his overall growth.

We spent 30 minutes oooing, aahing and giggling at his movements. Ok, I giggled, Clay just oohed and aahed. He had grown so much in the last 4 weeks and looked like a little monkey. His long legs, toes and arms were so precious and we even got a sneak peek at the 4D images. We learned that our little man is developing quickly. He is measuring a full 8 days ahead. At 20 weeks and 2 days, he's measuring 21 weeks and 3 days and already weighs a pound!

At the end of the ultrasound, I asked the tech how everything looked. Her response put me on a roller coaster of emotion. She started off by saying that everything looked great, and then said he has choroid plexus cysts on his brain. She continued by saying they see these in 1 of every 4 babies and typically go away by week 28, but that didn't make me feel better. Common or not, I don't want them on my precious baby! I wanted them gone IMMEDIATELY!

I took a few minutes to read a little about the cysts. The choroid plexus is an area of the brain that isn't involved in thinking or personality, but is responsible for making a fluid that protects and nourishes the brain and spinal cord. Basically, a choroid plexus cyst (CPD) is a fluid-filled space in that area of the brain. They can vary in size and shape and can be on one or both sides of the brain.

Regardless of how many there are and their size or shape, they're generally harmless if they are not accompanied by any other abnormalities. If there are other abnormalities, the cysts could indicate Trisomy 18.

As a human, it's easy to focus more on the last sentence instead of the positives. I won't pretend I didn't worry a little after reading that, but as a Christian, I am told not to worry.

Matthew 6:34 Therefore do not worry about tomorrow for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

I began praying and was reminded that God's got this under control! Since that reminder a mere hour after learning about the cysts, my attitude has changed. I'm not worrying about those cysts. I'm not worrying about this pregnancy. My God has those cysts in His hand. He has my little man in His hand. As concerned as I am for Bryson and his development, God is even more so because He loves him even more than I do!

When we go in for our 28 week appointment, not only will we get to see our little man again, but we WILL hear the words that the cysts are no more. God alone has the ability to remove them and I have faith that He will.

When I got pregnant, I gave Bryson back to God. After all, he belongs to God and God is just asking Clay and me to raise him. This test is inevitably the first of many, but with God's help, we'll get through every one. Only with God can you walk through fire without getting burned.

Your prayers for our little guy are greatly appreciated. In two months, you'll see God answered them. Just wait!

Sportmanship

I have a confession to make.

I hate to lose.

Growing up, I hid Monopoly money in my lap to fool my opponent. In the weekly "spelling bees" my parents held in our living room to help me with spelling and vocabulary, I wrote difficult words (seriously, daughter is hard at 5!) on my Charlie Brown dictionary, just in case.

My family started off by letting me win everything, but after seeing my competitive side and tendency to be a sore winner, they had to let me to lose to teach me sportsmanship. That lesson stunk, but in hindsight, was absolutely necessary.

I believe sportsmanship is a vital lesson in our lives. As everyone does, I've had disappointments in life: I didn't make the cheerleading squad in 5th grade or the basketball team in 7th. I've lost spelling bees and gotten beaten out of scholarships. I've also had victories: out of 100+ candidates, I was chosen to participate in the Orange Bowl halftime show AND was the youngest drum major ever chosen. I made flag corps even though I was the least experienced and I've gotten great jobs ahead of many other candidates. Because of the lesson I learned at an early age, I was able to congratulate my friends on making the team and not to boast to those whom I beat out.

That lesson also translated to my marriage. You see, not only are Clay and I extremely competitive, but because God has a sense of humor, we are a house divided. We're both passionate about our teams and there's no chance of conversion, so we rely heavily on being good sports. Sure, we tease each other on occasion, but know where to draw the line. Iron Bowl week is a fun time in our house, full of lighthearted trash talk and bets. We've been through 4 Iron Bowls together and neither of us have ever bragged about a win (though I've had more opportunities- ha) and can rationally discuss the good and bad about both teams.

With Alabama holding the crystal for 2009 & 2011 and Auburn winning the title in 2010, our state has been the college football capital for the last three years. While this should be a great thing for our state, it's also fueled the rivalry even more.

When Alabama broke Auburn's 6-year Iron Bowl win streak with a final score of 36-0, the combination of bragging Alabama fans and heartbroken Auburn fans turned ugly. An Alabama fan lost his life for walking through an Auburn fan's yard while wearing crimson.

In early 2011, Harvey Updyke poisoned the trees at Toomer's Corner in retaliation to Auburn fans taping a Cam Newton jersey to Bear Bryant's statue outside Bryant-Denny Stadium and for poisoning a patch of the grass on the UA quad in the shape of 28-27 (2010's Iron Bowl score). These trees have been a cornerstone of the school, football team and community for decades, so he really hit Auburn where it hurt. Auburn officials are currently trying to determine if the trees and surrounding fauna can be salvaged and are even considering planting fake trees to prevent future vandalism.

With a baby on the way, I think about the hard lessons I had to learn when I was little and how to pass them on to my children. I see the importance of learning sportsmanship and how to lose with grace even more clearly now. It may seem silly to you that this post took a football turn, but our children will be raised in the thick of it and therefore, must learn to embrace it. They will undoubtedly spend one weekend on the Plains and the next in Bryant Denny.

Of course, the sportsmanship lesson extends far past the Alabama/Auburn football rivalry and into their lives. I don't ever want my child to pout over a loss or get in a fight for running his/her mouth about a win. Instead, I want to teach my child grace, both with a win and a loss. My prayer is that God will continue to reveal His thoughts on a good sport and teach us to pass His wisdom on.

Proverbs 27:2 Let someone praise you, and not your own mouth; an outsider, and not your own lips.

Philippians 2:3 Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility, consider others better than yourselves.

"I've missed more than 9,000 shots in my career, lost almost 300 games, missed the game-winning shot 26 times. I've failed over and over again in my life. That is why I succeed." - Michael Jordan

"Once you learn to quit, it becomes a habit." - Vince Lombardi

Joy Through Suffering

Throughout our lives, we will inevitably see a great deal of suffering, whether it be a person fighting for his life, a couple considering divorce or a single mother trying to keep food on the table for her children. As Christians, we are not free from life's struggles, but have Help through all hard times (Matthew 11:28-29, Isaiah 40:29-31).

While I have not read Rhonda Byrne's book The Secret (and do not intend to), from what I've gleaned from reviews and friends, I believe she has a good point, at least in theory. The "secret" she shares is living a life of joy through your attitude. Her book is not written from a Christian perspective, but is written with a Godly attitude, in my opinion.

Last week, I watched Ben Breedlove's video that has recently gone viral over the internet. In his 18 years of life, Ben learned more than many of us ever will. Although he was born with a very serious heart condition, he lived a life filled with joy. As you watch the video, you will learn that the experiences in which he "cheated death" didn't scare him, but gave him hope for the future, whatever and wherever that may be. At the age of 4, he saw "the bright light" and even in his innocence, recognized the presence of God. He made this video a week before he passed away. While his family and friends are obviously suffering from their loss, through this video, it is obvious that Ben is happy where he is and he was very satisfied with the things he accomplished in his short life.



When I think of someone living a life of joy, I immediately think of Ed Horn. No, you probably don't know him and you haven't heard his story. I never had the privilege of meeting Ed, but he has long been an inspiration in my life. He is the late husband of my dear friend, Kelley. Ed suffered from anaplastic large cell lymphoma in leukemic phase (I think that's right- I always mess that up) and his health declined rapidly. He spent the majority of his last months on Earth in the hospital, but his faith in God and the joy in the life God had given him was unwavering. There are two things I remember vividly from his journey to Heaven: on their anniversary, Ed and Kelley danced in the hospital, and after he passed, Kelley found he had written in His Bible that God held his cancer in His hands. I can only imagine the pain Ed felt, both physically and emotionally, but he always had a beaming smile on his face and spoke to so many people through that smile.


A few years ago, after praying for circumstances in my life, I realized that I was no longer living a life of joy; my overflowing glass had become half-empty. I began praying that God would break through the shell around my heart so I could once again live a life like Ed and Ben. I wanted to feel God's joy, no matter the circumstance. As God began to reveal Himself to me, I found myself more willing to open up my heart to Him. He began to mold me and to change my heart and my attitude... and I found joy again. Once again, I learned to fully rely on God and began to see Him in everything- from the geese that held up traffic as they slowly waddled across 280 to the purple flowers budding in trees. I saw God on the faces of the women at the shelter and in the stripes of the zebras at the zoo. When you ask God to reveal himself, He does just that!

In hindsight, I can see God's hand in the struggle. What once was misery is now one of the greatest learning experiences of my life. Not only did I see the things I was doing to fail God and really, myself by allowing Satan to rob just one minute of joy, but I also learned that God was there with every step, even if I wasn't willing to acknowledge Him.

In saying all of this, I'm not trying to portray a Mary Poppins type life; I have days where I fall apart. Some days, it's as simple as the house smelling funny because the trash didn't go out. Others, I have real problems, like my cousin and lifelong partner in crime in ICU, nearly paralyzed. The difference between then and now is how I handle those things.

As Christians, we have a choice in every situation. We can let Satan exchange that minute of joy for a moment of heartache or we can have hope that God's got everything under control. As for me, I want my hope to make me glad. I want to find my joy, even in suffering.

Romans 12:12 Let your hope make you glad. Be patient in time of trouble and never stop praying.

Proverbs 10:28 The hope of the righteous brings joy, but the expectation of the wicked will perish.

Being Resolute

Resolution {rez-uh-loo-shuh'n}: a resolve or determination, the mental state or quality of being resolute.

I'm not a New Year's resolution kind of gal. I've made the obligatory weight loss and gym goals many years, only to go the way of the rest of the resolutioners by January 31. I've had one successful change - in 2004, I gave up the 6+ Mountain Dew's and Dr. Peppers I drank daily for water and diet beverages and have not looked back.

With 2012 being a year of big change for the Stoker family, my "resolutions" aren't the typical variety. Yes, after July, I will need to lose some baby weight and see the inside of the gym pretty frequently, but my goals this year are more important than my pants size.

This baby I'm carrying belongs to God and he's trusting Clay and me to raise him/her. That's a HUGE responsibility. God created me- He knows my flaws and my many shortcomings. What's awesome about God is that He doesn't see those things, but instead, sees my potential and He trusts goofy ol' me to bring a life into the world and to nurture it for Him.

With that being said, this year is a time to change the things that cross my mind and my lips. I know that everything that enters my mind makes up my attitude, my words and my actions, so I want everything rattling around in there to be pure. Pretty soon, every word I say will be heard by tiny, impressionable little ears, so those words need to be sweet.

Gracious words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones. Proverbs 16:24

Clay and I have a very strong friendship and an incredible marriage, and with the addition of a baby, it's vital for us to nurture both relationships. We will still have to find time to spend together, just the two of us, playing Monopoly on Wii or cuddling on the couch. Just because our spare moments will be filled with feedings and diaper changes doesn't change the necessity of doing "just because" things for each other. Our family will only be as strong as our connection with one another and I pray that God will continue to show us how to keep up our relationship through the busyness of life.

If a resolution is a mental state, I'm already there. I was there when I committed my heart to Christ and to spend my life with Clay. It's only because of God's calling that either came to be and it's only through God's help that I can see these resolutions through.

What are your resolutions?

Blessing Others

Somehow ESPN has the uncanny ability to make me cry, whether it's the story of a football player who fought cancer to get back to his team or the story of a father who wrote letters to his son before his football game every week. Yeah, I'm a sap. Don't even get me started on the annual Christmas Folgers commercials. Oh. My. Gosh.



I digress…

Last night, the University of Alabama Crimson Tide football team received the Disney Spirit award because of its efforts in rebuilding Tuscaloosa after the EF-4 tornado ripped through the town on April 27. Obviously, seeing images of the destruction in a town I love brings tears to my eyes; however, there is so much more to this story.

Alabama is a team full of tradition; its fans are known to be some of the most passionate in the country. The real fans support the team through losses, awful coaching decisions and even the Shula years. *shudder*



When the winds were gone and the devastation was visible, the football team put the suffering town and its people and their backs. In order to give back to the fans that had supported them for so long, they spent days upon days sorting through the rubble, recovering bodies and clearing debris. They spent countless hours rebuilding local businesses and the homes of families who were forced to begin again. They sponsored kids who had no hope and gave them something to smile about again.

As football season approached, Tuscaloosa's residents desperately needed normalcy, something to cling to when so many things were bleak. With images of the destruction and the faces of their despondent neighbors, the team set out to win. This time, they didn't work for a championship ring, but they worked for their town.

Last night, Carson Tinker, our long snapper, accepted the award on behalf of the Crimson Tide. His acceptance of the award was bittersweet. He, like so many others, lost someone he loved that day. As his house was ripped off its foundation, his girlfriend was ripped from his arms. He was thrown 100 yards, where he suffered a few injuries, including having a ligament tear from the bone in his wrist. The greatest injury of all was to his heart, when he discovered his girlfriend a few yards away, lifeless.



The point of this post isn't to highlight what my team did. I'm sure most teams around the country would do something similar in the light of tragedy. Instead, I'd like to highlight something Carson said. When asked, "What did giving back mean to you," he replied, "You know, some people asked for blessings, but we asked that we could be a blessing to the state of Alabama and the people that were affected."

There's absolutely nothing wrong with talking to God about blessing your life or the lives of those you love. For that reason, Jesus said, "So I say to you: Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you." (Luke 11:9 NIV) I, for one, have no problem telling God what I desire for myself, my family or my friends. What I occasionally forget is to ask God to use me, to let me be a beacon to Him.

Asking God to use me used to be a necessary in my prayer life. With the busyness of life, that tends to slip to the optional list. Carson’s message really spoke to me. Each day, I am given the opportunity to be light to someone else. I come in contact with hundreds of people a week, many of which probably need a blessing. How different would my life be if I began incorporating the invitation for God to use me in my daily prayers? How different would the world be if we all sought out people to bless instead of blessings for ourselves?

Luke 6:38: Give, and it will be given to you. Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.

The Deadliest Day

On the morning of Wednesday, April 27, I awoke with a start. There was a loud BANG outside my window that startled me from sleep and suddenly I was aware of the incessant clinking of the wind chime on the patio. I jerked the cord on the blinds, expecting to see someone in our back yard. Instead, I was unable to see anything. The wind and rain outside my window are so intense that not even the big weeping willow tree 20 feet from the house is visible. When it finally comes in sight, the top branches are bent at such a sharp angle that they're almost parallel to the ground.

A mere 10 minutes later, the wind died down and the rain calmed. Clay and I rushed outside to see if there's any damage from the winds. What we see is astounding. The heavy patio furniture was tossed like rag dolls all over the yard and the entire neighborhood is littered with wood from broken fences, shingles, and even stray garbage cans. We discovered the loud bang in our back yard was our 5' long, super heavy grill being tossed across the yard.

After securing our belongings and inspecting our house, we drove around the neighborhood. Just thinking about the things we saw brings tears to my eyes. There were gaping holes in roofs, windows blown out, fences completely missing, doors blown off their hinges, and houses missing siding and brick. We were very fortunate because our only loss was a grill. None of the shingles littering our subdivision belonged to us.

Within the hour, we learned that a EF-1 tornado had torn through our tiny little town. The path was evident- it had gone down our side of the neighborhood, missing only our house. One man in Moody had been killed.

At the time, I didn't really blog. I want to take the time now, on the six-month anniversary of the tornadoes, to recount that day.

Thinking it was safe, Clay and I went to work. He got to work pretty easily, but the Cahaba Heights area had been hit by a tornado at the same time as the Moody tornado, so they had no power or phones (and to top it off, his iPhone was broken, so communication was impossible). As I neared downtown, my boss called me and told me to go home. She was unable to get out of her house in Cahaba Heights and didn't want to risk me being out with the threat of worse weather.

James Spann, a very popular meteorologist in our area, warned that this was just the tip of the iceberg and to expect "a very bad day." Still now, 6 months later, I can hear those words ringing in my ears and the thought sends chills down my spine.

I went home and began working on wedding favors. Shortly thereafter, Clay arrived, safe and sound. He immediately turned on the news and there is no talk of local news or sports. Where anchormen typically sit, meteorologists are everywhere, warning people to seek shelter and secure their belongings. Being that we live in tornado alley, we're used to these warnings and usually brush them off. The urgency in their voices and actions caught my attention. I tried to occupy my time keeping busy, but then I heard the name of my hometown on the news.

I sat in front of the TV watching a camera that was posted on the water tower in Cullman. I am very familiar with the area, as my uncle has worked in the water tower for more than a decade. I watched the horizon turn from a calm, ugly, gray to a disastrous, gray funnel. As the tornado formed, James Spann commented on where the tornado was going. As he spoke, I was able to determine what it was hitting... and destroying. The first picture of the destruction was my home church, First United Methodist Church of Cullman. The church was built in 1923 and was constructed of stone. Beautiful stained glass windows encompassed the church.
BEFORE

AFTER



Cullman had a ton of damage from sustaining the winds of 6+ tornadoes, including one EF-5. Many decades old business were destroyed and hundreds of people were forced to rebuild their homes and piece together their lives. Fortunately, God's hand was over the county because no one lost their life. Buildings can be rebuilt and vehicles replaced.

This is the back of the house I grew up in. It stood in the historic district as it was built in the early 1900's. The building to the right is the garage and garage apartment, which was my playroom. The house was torn down after slipping from its foundation.

Roughly three hours later, they cut to a shot of Tuscaloosa, where I went to college. The town is another one that is dear to my heart. Clay and I hear Spann say there's a tornado on the horizon and think it must be a small one because we can't see it. That's when they zoom the camera out and it's obvious the entire horizon is a tornado. They estimated this tornado was a mile and a half wide when it came into Tuscaloosa.



This video will show a little of what we saw.


The tornado ripped through heavy commercial and residential areas. Thousands of people lost everything they had. Forty-one people were killed, including 6 students at the University of Alabama. While the damage is terrible, it would have been much greater had the EF-4 tornado hit the University of Alabama, where many students live or had sought shelter from the storm.

Driving through Tuscaloosa is almost unbearable. Where buildings once housed businesses I frequented in college, there is now piles of wood and brick. It's hard to even remember what stood where. Clay's best friends from high school lost their house, but were protected by a parking deck at the hospital. A member of our football team huddled in a closet with his girlfriend, his arms wrapped tightly around her. The house was picked up and rolled over half a mile, throwing everyone out. He suffered broken bones and his girlfriend was killed. Clay's college roommate's best friend lost her life.

This site has satellite images of before and after pictures. You can drag the blue bar between the two sides to see the full picture before and after.


Krispy Kreme was destroyed.


15th Street, before and after


A better view of 15th Street, which used to be a thriving area, full of buildings. These buildings blocked the view from McFarland Blvd to DCH Hospital. Now you can see the hospital as soon as you get on McFarland.


A small shopping center at the corner of McFarland and 15th. Everything was destroyed (including the tux shop that we ordered the tuxes for part of wedding party at. Eep!)

The tornado moved out of Tuscaloosa after what seemed like an eternity and headed toward Birmingham. Meteorologists warned that it would hit downtown, which would have been a major hit to our city. At the last minute, it turned and hit Pleasant Grove and surrounding areas. These areas were completely destroyed. The path continued East, where Clay and I were. James Spann warned it was either going to hit Trussville or Moody.

With no underground shelter to go to, we reverted to the lesson that you get in a closet in the innermost part of your house. We began stacking pillows in our guest bathroom. We practiced getting ourselves and the girls in the linen closet so if we had to do it, we'd know how to position ourselves and wouldn't freak Jenna out too bad. We put our shoes on and put all important papers in my purse, which stayed on my shoulder. We put harnesses on the girls and leashes were in the closet so they could be attached quickly. Fortunately, the tornado headed toward Trussville, where it lifted off the ground. After moving past Trussville, it hit the ground again and stayed there as it passed through northern Georgia.

The 2011 Super Outbreak, which spanned from April 25 to April 28, affected the Southern, Midwestern and Northeastern parts of the country. Over 336 tornadoes touched down in 21 states. An estimated 346 people were killed nationwide. April 27 was the deadliest tornado day since 1925 with 292 tornadoes on the ground in 16 states.

Like I said, we live in tornado alley in north/west Alabama. We hear a lot of tornado warnings but are very accustomed to thinking meteorologists are crying wolf. Now, many Alabamians shudder at the sound of thunder and get nervous when wind swirls leaves in the street. The thought of a thunderstorm sending blood pressure through the roof.

I had always had empathy for those affected by nature's devastation, but you don't understand the real impact until it happens to you. Fortunately, my family and friends were not included in the loss of life statistic.

April 27, 2011 is a day that will live with me forever. I saw mass destruction and felt so many emotions. I cried... a lot. I still cry when I see pictures or discuss the events of the day. My tears come for many reasons: the destruction is heartbreaking and I feel for those who lost so much.

Most of all, I cry because of the blessings that came in disguise. God spared my family and friends and for that, I am eternally grateful. Our communities have banded together in such a way that many towns have been completely cleared of debris and rebuilding efforts have begun. FEMA came into Tuscaloosa two weeks after the disaster and were blown away by the progress. They stated that in two weeks, more had been done in Alabama than was done in 6 months after Katrina. Good ol' boys got to work and got things going!

My emotions go into overload when fences come down. Auburn and Kent State football players have come down to help with cleanup and rebuilding. Auburn fans actually built a website, Toomer's for Tuscaloosa, that connected thousands of volunteers from all over the country to our cities in need. They have been responsible for organizing one of the largest efforts and been so much help.

Six months have passed since that terrible day and so much progress has been made, but there is still so much to be done. Your prayers are greatly appreciated.

One lesson so many of us have learned- don't ever take anything for granted. Enjoy your possessions, but don't forget they're just things and are fleeting. Instead of holding material possessions dear, make those things that matter, like friends and family, a priority. You could wake up on any given day without them.

Thank you, Lord, for your protection, for keeping my friends and family safe. Thank you for the lessons learned and for the people who have unselfishly given their time and resources to help complete strangers in need. You're in control of rebuilding- of lives and buildings- and I can't wait to see what you have in store!

Far More Valuable Than Diamonds

As a woman, there is a lot of pressure: to be desirable, you have to have the toned legs and belly of an airbrushed runway model; to succeed in the workplace, you must overcome your gender and claw your way up the corporate ladder; to succeed as a mother, your children must have good manners and earn good grades; to be a good wife, you have to don your apron and make June Cleaver look like a scrub!

While I don't feel a part of my purpose is to crawl up the corporate ladder, I know part of it is to be a good wife... and I have moments where I feel like I'm not living up to potential. I have been in the pressure cooker lately and at times, I feel like my head may explode.

I am one of those weird people who has a precise spot for everything and can tell, down to the millimeter, if something's been moved. I detest clutter and am thrilled by a freshly organized cabinet. I grew up in a household that boasted squeaky clean baseboards and remote controls wrapped in Ziploc bags (yes, I'm serious). While I'm not THAT bad, very little makes me happier than going to bed on crisp, clean sheets in a freshly cleaned home.

With that being said, I married a man who is fine with leaving soiled plates on the counter for days and whose idea of organizing is leaving his shoes in one place on the floor and towels in another. Needless to say, keeping our home maintained in a fashion I find suitable is difficult. I don't need a spotless house, but I do want it to be presentable. I have really had to learn to chill out my OCD tendencies.

Last week, I came home in an extremely foul mood. I'm surprised that no living being turned to stone when my eyes locked on their's. When I got home, the kitchen sink was overflowing with dishes and there were 2 plates and a cup on the island. This was perplexing since the kitchen had been clean when I left 12 hours earlier. I begrudgingly unloaded the dishwasher and instead of unloading on anyone (even those without opposable thumbs), the silverware really got a talking to.

After venting to the salad forks, I calmed down a little and began a nice conversation with a teapot. Ok, I'm kidding about that, but I did talk to myself and God.



Like everyone reading, I have a lot going on. Along with being a wife, a daughter, a granddaughter, a sister, a friend and a puppy mommy, I work full time and run an Etsy shop on the side. I try to take care of myself to control Fibromyalgia symptoms and to look good for my husband. All of this combined makes for one very stressed little girl that watches the clock like a hawk.

It was through the clatter of stainless steel that I had an epiphany and was reminded of the picture of the ideal wife.

"A good woman is hard to find, and worth far more than diamonds. Her husband trusts her without reserve and never has reason to regret it. Never spiteful, she treat him generously all her life long. She shops around for the best yarns and cottons...First thing in the morning, she dresses for work, rolls up her sleeves, eager to get started. She senses the worth of her work, is in no hurry to call it quits for the day. She's skilled in the crafts of home and hearth, diligent in homemaking. She's quick to assist anyone in need, reaches out to help the poor... When she speaks she has something worthwhile to say, and she always says it kindly. She keeps an eye on everyone in her household, and keeps them all busy and productive. Her children respect and bless her; her husband joins in with words of praise." Proverbs 31

I believe women are meant to be busy. God granted us with the assets we possess so we can take care of our husbands and family, keep a home running efficiently (and cleanly) and work where necessary to benefit our families. Although the woman described in Proverbs 31, the ideal wife, was busy, she carried out her tasks with grace and was praised for her hard work and positive attitude.

Through my time at the sink, I began to wonder how in the world I would ever learn to balance the busyness of my life? How does someone like me learn to deal with coming home to find a once spotless home covered with crusty dishes and piles of clothes?

I could organize every inch of my house, manage my time with the precision of a football coach (well, just not Les Miles), and clear my schedule of extracurricular activities, but I believe the answer is much more simple. If God gave me the assets to run a home and a family, doesn't it make sense that He would be the one to ask how to use them? The only answer I see is to seek advice and wisdom from the One who made me capable of fitting into the mold of a Proverbs 31 wife.



I'm a new wife and learning to jive my life with another is something I've never had to do. Until June 4, my life was MY life. Now, my life is OUR life. Without God at the center of our marriage, I will undoubtedly feel the heat of that pressure cooker, but with God at the helm, our marriage is built on a Rock and dirty dishes and life's unexpected bumps are already taken care of. We just have to ask. God is for us, even if we're a bit OCD or slobs messy and only He can bring those two idiosyncrasies together in complete harmony.

"Charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeing, but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised."

Edit: P.S. I would like to add that I once told Clay to run some water on plates and bowls and I would load the dishwasher, thus some of the mess. I told him that the growing pile of dry plates, both in and out of the sink, and skillets bothered me. We came up with a plan together and voila! Crisis diverted. Marriage is a give and take. He does a great job of meeting me halfway and for that, I am grateful. He looks past my OCD ways and loves me all the same!

Our Fairytale: Part 3

As previously mentioned, the Disney/Pixar movie "Up" is an integral part of our story. It's this little twist that I believe shows just how funny God is.

Every year, my church, Church of the Highlands, integrates a widely popular series. Thousands of visitors darken our doorways and hundreds turn to Christ throughout the series. Basically, during the "At the Movies" series, Pastor Chris Hodges turns a secular movie into a message.

I still had not seen "Up" when it was showcased at COTH. When the movie selection was revealed, Clay reminded me that the main female character reminded him of me. In the first scene, Ellie removes her adventure hat and wiry, frizzy hair pops out. I looked at him in disbelief, thinking he was thinking of the awful odd way my naturally curly hair looks before it's straightened.

As little Ellie continued to spout off then states, "You're quiet; I like you," I begin to see the similarity. :)

*****BEWARE: SPOILERS AHEAD*****
The scene continues through the lives of the two characters. Carl and Ellie get married, buy and fix up a house, work, get pregnant and lose the baby. All the while, their focus is on a great adventure to Paradise Falls. Because of the bumps along the road of life, Carl & Ellie grow old without making the trip.
When Ellie passed away, the tears began to fall freely down my face. It's then that Clay decided to reveal why Ellie's character brought me to mind all those months ago. As he watched the beginning of Carl and Ellie's relationship, then their marriage and all the things that come with it, he realized no one could fill the Ellie role but me. He had been watching the movie with a girl he dated during our break and decided the relationship needed to end before the credit begin to roll. When I was able to regain a semblance of composure, he told me he knew the movie showing at church was God's way to revealing to him that he was right where He wanted him to be- with me.

*pause* Must. Regain. Composure.

Ok, I'm back.

As you can well imagine, I was a basketcase throughout the service. Thinking back on that day makes my heart flutter... and I chuckle every time. Clay and I fought hard for a year to make our relationship work. Over 14 months, our hearts had hardened to prevent further abuse and any trust we had was long gone. All it took for God to break through the hard exterior was a cartoon movie!

Until that moment, we hadn't had a healthy relationship, but until then, we hadn't been genuine in asking God to be a part of it. That day, we discussed where we had been and where we were going- all 3 of us.

Our past hadn't been the type of relationship I had always dreamed of and the road we traveled was FULL of bumps, but the bruises taught us so much. Because of the [many] arguments and all-out fights, we learned how to rationally discuss those things that we don't see eye to eye on. We have learned to talk things out instead of either flying off the handle or bottling things up. We have learned the requirements of a relationship and how to respect the other. Above all else, we've learned the type of relationship we want isn't possible without the Center.

Guilt by Association

When Clay and I began talking about marriage, we had a few talking points to hash out. Being a CPA, his biggest concern was finances. Being a woman, mine was parenting. After preliminary talks, we determined we were on the same page and off to the chapel we went!

Now that we're married and the prospect of children is much more real, we've been discussing this in more detail. (No, we're not trying for that grandbaby, Mom) Unless you count our furbabies, Bailey and Jenna (which I typically do), we have never been parents before. The thought is daunting. My every action can potentially influence another life. I don't even like to choose a restaurant- how can I steer a child's life?

During our wedding, Clay and I took communion together and he prayed for us. Included in that prayer was a request to mold us into the people we need to be for our future children. Since then, I have been praying for the same thing. Not only do I need to learn to be unselfish, but I need to know how to raise a vulnerable little child. What do I do if a bully is harassing my child? I want him/her to learn from the experience but really want to just beat the bully down. How do I keep my child away from sex, drugs and cigarettes? Neither of us smokes and we don't really drink but kids learn about these things at a younger age now.

Thinking back, my mom always had the answers for everything I encountered. When I was younger, her famous catchphrase “guilty by association” drove me insane. Now that I’m older (but young looking) and wiser, I know she was right. That lesson about choosing friends wisely stuck and her catchphrase still rings in my ears in certain situations.

Last night, while I was thinking about the phrase and realized that my mom is not really a genius (at least in this instance), but that she cheated with all these lessons. :) Every single lesson we learn in life is in the Good Book.

For instance, the Bible is abundantly clear about choosing friends wisely. "Do not be deceived: 'Bad company ruins good morals.'" (1 Corinthians 15:33 ) "Whoever walks with the wise becomes wise; but the companion of fools will suffer harm." (Proverbs 13:20) "The righteous shall choose his friends carefully, for the way of the wicked leads them astray." (Proverbs 12:26)

How do I deal with a punk child bullying my child? “You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against the sons of your own people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself: I am the Lord.” (Leviticus 19:18) “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy but I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in Heaven.’” (Matthew 5:43-44) What was mom’s catchphrase for this? “Kill them with kindness.” This is the ol’ “you attract more flies with honey than with vinegar” approach.

As all parents do, Clay and I will encounter situations we don’t know how to deal with. Or worse, situations that our flesh wants to take over. How do we handle those? If we can't approach each and every situation he/she will encounter, how do we equip him/her to handle them? That's easy. We open the pages of a familiar, timeless best-seller and learn from our Creator. We follow His path for if you “train up a child in the way he should go, even when he is old, he will not depart from it.” (Proverbs 22:6)