Deep, Not Wide

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I made a mistake last year.

Well, to be fair, I make them every day. 😉

But this one…it was the kind that grated on me for a year. I just couldn’t get it out of my head. And I knew things needed to be different, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on what I had done wrong. And, really, it took twelve months to process.

But this morning, as I sit down with my coffee and pour my heart out to you, I’m starting to see.

And, oh…it feels good to finally see.

So one of my dreams has been, for a long time, to “make it” in the blogging world…to become the next big blogger, whatever that looks like.

And what that DOES look like…well, I still haven’t quite figured that out. For a long time, I had it in my head that it meant tons of followers, comments, a platform the width of the world, lots of recognition. And, of course, a book deal to follow.

In reality it sounds like a lovely, perfectly-ordered dream, doesn’t it?

And there was a time…a span of about a year…when I chased that dream hard.

Too. Hard.

Today I’m over at God-sized Dreams telling a heart-story, one that’s tough to share with the world. Will you join me there?

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Sig

Just Life…Because It’s Been Too Long

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How is it November 21st already?

Or, more accurately, how is it that I have yet to write something this month?

So I’ve started and even almost-finished a few posts lately.

….like the letter I wrote to the waitress we had the other night when Maelie wanted to go out for pancakes. She was kind of mean. Or a lot of mean. And I decided maybe I should give her some grace and not push publish. Because I am not mean.

…And then there was the spiel I started writing about leggings and why they aren’t pants but they are…and I didn’t get very far because it seems that every blogger has spoken his/her piece on that subject. (I did appreciate my snarky thoughts, but I’m not sure y’all would have. Plus, I wear leggings. Gasp.) 😉 But maybe I’ll share that one anyway. Later.

…And I even tried to write about life a few times. Just life.

And I think that’s where we’re landing today. We’ll see how it all goes. :) So grab your coffee and a heated blanket if you’re in the Midwest…because, helllloooo, evil winter, who decided to come Way. Too. Early.

Maybe I should write about the weather. Or not. (Plus, I don’t live in Buffalo…therefore I have absolutely nothing to complain about.) 😉

The truth is, friends, it’s been a quiet season. Quieter than I ever could have anticipated. Life has been full of raising a four year-old, of a few other things sprinkled here and there, and of a lot of reflection.

There is a part of me that hates the whole reflecting thing…I mean just how much can a person think about a particular life event? Or two?

Apparently…A. LOT.

So, the truth…and life…in I-hope-not-too-many words, but I forewarn you. I’ve gone 21 days without a blog post. 😉

This season of grief has been hard. I can’t believe how many reminders come up. I’ll be having a good week and then I’ll see a pregnant woman and just about lose it. I’ll have to stop and catch my breath or even turn and walk away.

My God feels so very far away.  I have tried to walk with Him through this…or allow Him to walk by me. Whatever. But there’s this distance…and I’m not sure that’s entirely abnormal. I think it’s ok to still love Him and feel like there’s a quiet season. I think He’s waiting to speak until my heart is ready to listen. That’s where I am, and I have no idea if it’s right or wrong.

We’re trying so hard to count our blessings. There are so many and, daily, we are aware that there are reasons to be thankful. It’s just that there are often…and I do mean OFTEN…moments when that good feels like it’s shrouded in a thick fog. I see…but I battle believing that it’s for us.

I still don’t understand. We would be about 5 1/2 months along right now. I thought for sure I’d have some glimpse into life by now of why God didn’t want us to have this little one. But…nothing. And the truth is that as hard as it can be to have answers, I find it even more difficult to not have them. What? This was just random? Some days I just wish He’d spell it out for me.

There are still a lot of ugly days. I still cry. I had a screaming match with God…or, more accurately, at God…the other day in the car. It wasn’t my finest moment and I’m thankful no one else heard it.

We’re trying to keep going and find some sense of normalcy. And, how hard is this to admit? Some days it just looks like survival. We get up, we do our day, we try to find a few smiles…at least one more than the day before. And that’s how we move forward. We do what’s on the list and we don’t do much more than that.

And it sort of breaks my heart, this whole season I wasn’t counting on. Because this space…my heart…it’s so empty, and I hadn’t planned on that. In a weird way, it’s a reflection of life in general. Life feels empty.

BUT…I’m trying to fill it somehow. With laughter, with memories, with Bible journaling, with loud Christmas-and-non-Christmas music, with friends, with things that make me smile. I’m reading books that make me laugh, watching cheesy Christmas movies, reading stories with my girl and laughing with her, too. And I’m not worrying so much about words and writing a lot of them.

Oh, I’ll write them when it’s time…and I know that someday there will be a whole lot more of them here. But there’s also a time for quiet. And I think this might be it.

We’d still appreciate your prayers. We’re heading into the holidays, and I commented to Tobin yesterday…I’m just having a hard time getting into Christmas. (Yes, I realize we’re a week out from Thanksgiving…but it’s not that far away.) 😉 I can force the music and the movies, but the feeling isn’t there. Not that it’s about feelings at all…but there’s usually something warm and fuzzy about this time of year, right?

The gifts aren’t purchased. I want to put up the tree this week but only so I don’t have to think about it closer to Christmas. I dread hanging ornaments we ordered on it…too-small ways of remembering our precious baby and beloved dog.

Somewhere in this there is something we’re supposed to learn. I have to believe that. Because, although it’s been a season of battling with God, I have to fall back on all I know of Him.

I know He’s good. I know He doesn’t just randomly allow things to happen without having a purpose.

I know He still loves us.

And maybe that truth is the one we need more than ever right now.

Well, I’ve rambled on and on about life and, RATS! I never even got to the leggings part. That will just have to wait until next time. 😉

Thanks for being here.

Photo Credit: Christian Reimer

Sig

Please Use Caution When Opening Your Drink…

smilebooth2 final I should have titled this post something more along the lines of…

Allume 2014.

Family Reunion 2014.

Lessons From a Really Great Weekend.

On Meeting With an Agent and Other Things That Whisper Hope.

A Weekend of Blessings.

Or, all of the above.

I flew in late Sunday night after a glorious five days spent in the beautiful city of Greenville, South Carolina. Seriously, y’all (do you HEAR me getting all Southern already?!) I heart this city. I have plans to bring some of you TO this city. If I didn’t love where I live so much, I’d be tempted to move my family down there so we can eat fried green tomatoes and sweet potato cake for the rest of our days.

Maybe I love it for reasons like this…

cupcake quote finalBecause, YES. I do want to live in a city that has signs like this on their sidewalks.

Or, this…

cutepuppy finalMel walks into cute, upscale boutique.
Is greeted by cute puppy.
Immediately trades browsing for puppy cuddles and a picture.

But chances are, I love it most of all for this.

allume4-1024x768 finalMy heart sisters. They are forever that.*

When I started my blog back on that lonely, cold morning in January 2011, I had no idea it would turn into Community. Family. Sisterhood.

These are my people…

The ones who stay up late and chat deep and laugh loud with me when I totally explode my drink mid-flight. Yes, yes I did.

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The ones who, when you finally meet in person for the first time, are just as wonderful and sweet and encouraging as you knew they’d be.

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The ones who take the time to hold my hand, share a hug, and whisper Hope to me in a season that doesn’t feel like there’s much to hope in.

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The ones who pray me through a knee-knocking meeting with a literary agent, the kind in which I hand over my proposal. (aka: My. Heart.)

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The ones who don’t count how many cupcakes I eat in one weekend.

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The ones who will sit and drink coffee and share life, even just minutes before they have to leave.

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The ones who make me smile just because they’re near me.

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The ones who will stand by my side as we worship our Father and trust that He is good in ALL.

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The ones who share their dreams and stories…the pretty parts of them and the not-so-pretty, too.

Meetup finalLoved the God-sized Dreams meet up!*

Yes, I went to Allumeand it IS a writing conference…an amazing one. Logan and her team did an awesome job, and I’m so grateful for the prayers, sweat, and tears they put into it for all of us.

But it’s also so much more than a writing conference. It’s that place where I find so many of my friends…sisters. It’s a place where we just get each other. It’s a place where we raise our hands and praise Him…completely…even when it’s hard and the tears flow. It’s a sweet, precious gift, and when it’s over…well, it takes more than a few days to process it all.

I didn’t know how much I needed to be there this weekend…how much I needed to just go and cry and laugh and beand then find some healing. And there was…it wasn’t the kind of healing that makes it all go away. It was the kind where God used people, over and over, to remind me that He still loves me so much and that there are so many blessings still to be had. Even in loss.

There were some cool God stories…and I’ll share those someday. Stories about how God opened up seats BOTH TIMES on full flights so my sweet sister and I could sit together and share life and eat cupcakes at 20,000 feet for a bit longer. Stories about how God brought two precious women…now friends…into my life to bring some Hope to a heart that has just begged for a glimpse of light.

MIssy&Mel finalI love this girl…she has such an amazing heart.
And she makes some of the most awesome jewelry ever.
(See Mel’s necklace.) 😉

Dawn&group finalWith my friend, Dawn, in the middle next to me. LOVE her, her story, and how God planned our meeting.
(And we’re with two super awesome women who I wish I’d had a chance to talk with longer!) :)

Today, though, just think of this post as the scratch-the-surface-and-dump-my-photos kind. Feel free to share some smiles or grab a picture. One of the whole twenty…maybe…I took. 😉 And if you’d like a copy without the watermark, just let me know and I’ll send it your way.

To the wonderful women…friends…sisters…who were part of this weekend. Thank you. You mean so much to me…and though it’s hard to put into words, I think you understand just how much that is.

Until we meet again. And I hope it won’t be too long.

*I’m not sure which of my GSD sisters get credit for these photos. But, thank you!!! :)

Sig

My Andre…

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It’s been three days.

It seems like so much longer, but that’s how hard days can seem. The way they stretch and linger is painful…heart-wrenching.

He and I, we sat on the couch together three days ago. He was resting, his chest rising and falling…my hand there with every breath. In between games of Sudoku…something to keep my mind off of it all…I’d look over at him.

Feel the tears well up.

Whisper a prayer that it was all a bad dream.

Breathe into his ear how much I loved him.

Repeat.

We knew it. The vet had confirmed it just the day before, but we knew. We knew it was almost over.

Eleven years that had made up a lifetime were about to end.

It was soul-crushing, the kind that leaves a hollow, painfully deep ache.

And even in the ache, I caught myself reflecting…

Reflecting on a life together that began on a beautiful September Saturday in 2003. He bounded toward us, and I almost said no because he was bigger than the cute, wiggly, 12 week-old puppy I really wanted. But there was something about him, and we just knew.

We knew this was our puppy. And so we took this almost-five-month-old, still wiggly, ball of fur home with us and named him Andre.

He was totally an Andre…always happy, a little goofy, and perfectly sweet. We were in love immediately.

He bounded into our lives, ready to take on any adventures that might come with it. And had he known what was coming, maybe he would have turned around…but he didn’t. He stayed, he boarded planes, he crossed cultures, he welcomed more family members, he followed us wherever we went…and he lived every single day with exuberance.

Every single day for eleven plus years…and those years passed by too quickly.

And we watched the calendar pages turn, wondering where it was going. The one consolation was that he was still so much a puppy…so playful, so full of love.

And it continued until the end. Only in his last weeks did he show signs of slowing down…and that was why my hubby decided he needed to be checked out.

It didn’t take long to hear the words tumors and a week or two…and those words broke our hearts to shards. He wasn’t in any pain…but we carried that pain.

Knowing that he could slip away at any moment made it hard to even breathe.

Just 24 hours after we knew, it was time. We watched through tears as he used up the last of his love on people…that was so Andre. And then, exhausted, he found a spot in the grass to breathe in some of his last moments. We carried him to the van, and Tobin and I went.

We drove in tears, we gave final hugs, we went into the room, the three of us together for the last time.

We held him and told him, over and over, what he already knew. We loved him so much…and he had been the best dog in the world.

And my arms were wrapped around him, my hand on his heart, when he went.

The tears fell…more than I’ve ever cried, I think…as we said goodbye and forced ourselves to leave the room and find our way home…a home that will never feel the same again.

It’s three days later, and the tears still pour.

I miss my boy. I miss the way he greeted me with a smile and a butt wiggle multiple times a day. I miss the way every second was a gift worthy to be lived with exuberance. I miss the cuddles and the snuggles and the endless amounts of dog hair all over me.

I miss it all so much.

I miss him. And I will forever.

And I sometimes wonder why we chose it when we knew it would come to an end. But, really, we know the answer to that…and it’s the same answer that helps us breathe through the moments that hurt so much.

It’s Love. He lived it so well.

And so we laugh through the tears and smile and talk about the Andre stories…about the times he went swimming in places he shouldn’t have, about the time he ran into a tree, about the millions of ways he filled our lives with love.

We go on. Because the best way for us to honor his life is to live ours like he did.

Goodbye, sweet, sweet boy. You were a gift to us in ways we can’t even describe. We thought we were making your life better when we brought you home, but you were the one who made us better. Blessed us. And gave us a life full of love that will stay with us forever.

To Andre. You are forever a part of us…and forever in our hearts.

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Sig

On Friendship and Celebrating

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A story:
to preface the celebration. :)

Four years ago, we moved here to this strange land. Ok, ok…it was strange then. Now it’s pretty normal.

Well, as normal as Illinois can be. 😉

And it might be safe to say that I didn’t want to be here at all. I had to be, but I sure wasn’t choosing it, and I sure didn’t have a happy heart about it either.

The first few weeks were a blur, thanks to the teeny-tiny baby we had at the time. I rarely left the house except to go to Target. And Starbucks…I did find my way there a few times, too. Because, um, sleep deprivation. Yes, it must be countered with multiple shots of espresso.

Our neighborhood remained a mystery. We had a cute, blue house on the corner, but we didn’t know the people who lived near us. And during those weeks, I was more than ok with that.

Until. The night. When my husband forced me to walk across the street.

A neighbor had stopped by, one he had already met, to drop off a note for me. It was a sweet, welcome-to-the-neighborhood/would-you-like-to-come-to-Bible-study, letter from a woman across the street.

I smiled and went back to feeding Maelie…and sort of forgot about it.

But Tobin didn’t, and he made sure that we ALL marched across the street to say hello, meet her and her family, and give me a chance to accept her invitation.

My heart might not have been happy…but by then I was warming up to the idea of life here. I kind of had to.

And that night, I met Kris. From our first conversation (which lasted well over an hour) I knew we were going to be friends and not just neighbors. I saw the way she looked at my daughter, the way she genuinely wanted to know about us and our crazy lives…and when she offered me a ride the next morning and then went out of her way after Bible study to show me around town (I really hadn’t been out…) I found myself breathing thanks that, maybe, I finally had a friend.

And over the weeks that turned into months and then years, a friendship grew. It started off with little visits across the street and chats after Bible study. Then it turned into double dates and coffee dates and sometimes just chats on a porch…hers or mine.

A friend in Minnesota had told me, before we moved, that she was specifically praying that God would give me a good friend. I saw the answer to her prayer in Kris.

And in the past four years, it’s been such a sweet friendship. There have been ups and downs…for both of us. We’ve walked and prayed each other through some hard days…and we’ve celebrated a lot, too.

And today…well, it’s a celebration. A BIG one…the kind that starts with a 5 and ends with a 0.

😉

Today my beautiful friend turns 50…and though she might kill me (but only just a little…) for this, I think she deserves to be celebrated. She’s pretty fantastic…and she’s been a gift to me and my family…and a lot of other people, too.

She’s been such a big part of why we call this place home. And why we’re happy to call it that.

The happiest of birthdays to you, sweet friend.

Fifty looks pretty amazing on you.

Sig

On Life…and Monday and Coffee. But Mostly Life.

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About a week ago, I walked outside…and what I saw made the tears drip almost immediately.

At the beginning of the summer, my dear friend had given me some day lilies to replant in our yard. Being the awesome, motivated, person I am, they sat in a wagon for two days before I got around to actually putting them in the ground.

And for several weeks…I wondered. Watched them turn brown-ish. And figured they were probably beyond hope.

But when I walked out and looked at them on that Friday afternoon…

HOPE. In the form of beautiful, orange blossoms. And I knew God had sent me a little hug, a reminder…that He can always bring beauty, even on the days we feel like we’re dying.

And that’s where I am right now…in that place of waiting on Hope. Of trying to live even though, honestly, some days it feels like the life is being sucked out.

And writing…well it’s such a huge part of how I live. And so there are days, like today, when I just pound out the words and hope they mean something in the end. 😉

And? It’s Monday. Oh, Monday. How I looooove thee.

Can you just hear the sarcasm dripping? In fact, I think it’s dripping right into my coffee… 😉

What is it about Mondays? Seriously. Even as a stay-at-home mom, I don’t generally embrace them happily. Or, even embrace them at all.

But the fact that they can come with coffee, so long as I can find my way to the kitchen to actually make it…well, that might make them look just a little better.

So let’s have a coffee chat, since it’s waaaaay early on Monday and there is coffee in my mug. Thank you, Jesus, for that.

I was telling my hubby that time feels like it’s crawling right now. It’s been such a long two weeks.

In some ways that’s good. I mean, I’ve said often how bittersweet it is to watch my girlie growing up so quickly. The years are FLY. ING. And, yet, somehow, the days that have made up life since July 22nd…well, they’ve been plenty long.

The truth is that the ache is an ever-present thing. I’ve had to find distractions, sometimes purposely creating them. Loads of laundry that aren’t quite full yet might just get washed anyway to fill some minutes. Cleaning underneath the couch, (oy…) yeah, maybe that happened, too. Sort of. And I don’t forget to water my plants and flowers anymore, either. 😉

I find myself desperate to make the days go by.

Maybe that’s normal?

But by Friday night, I was so ready for something to be different. I’d been out one other night that week for the every-28-days haircut/color. (Totally serious.) But I needed…to think. To just be. In a quiet place where talking didn’t need to happen unless I felt like it. So I called my favorite nail salon and made a pedi appointment. Of course, I arrived and the place was busier than I’d ever seen it. Goodbye quiet and hello, woman next to me loudly proclaiming her joy that her friend was pregnant.

I went home that night, cute mint green toenails and all, and cried. Probably more than I’d cried yet.

And so on Saturday, we ventured A.W.A.Y. Downtown away, via Portillo’s because Chocolate Cake Shake. Enough said. 😉 And then we sat in traffic for a small forever and found the zoo. A fun day for Mae because she needed it…and she declared it the Best. Day. Ever. We were glad for her, even if we might not have shared her sentiments. 😉 Seeing her excited was fun, though. We needed fun, and we needed to smile. Even laugh, especially when she announced to several people that the wild hog was “SO cute.” Golly, I love her. :)

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And yesterday. Let’s just say it’s not how I imagined we’d ring in 12 years of wedded, up-and-down, bliss. We’d had plans to go downtown overnight but decided not to leave for that long and had even debated whether to really celebrate…that word just doesn’t work right now. But our sweet, amazing friends had offered to take Mae to church and hang with her for the afternoon, and…who turns that down?

So we bummed around an area about 30 minutes from us. Drank some really bad coffee. (Seriously. I think this former-barista girl should’ve gone back behind the bar to teach them how to Make. A. Latte.) Walked and wandered a lot. Ended up at a really fun flea market and bought a bookshelf and two trinkets for the porch wall.

That might have been what made me cry for the first time that day…and in front of a complete stranger, too. But sometimes…yeah.

And we found a pizza place for an appetizer and a water (because I’m boring when I drink liquid) and played cribbage and talked about life. About how we’ll never forget the crazy trip to South Africa or the Thailand adventures. About parenting and how it’s filled us and left a huge hole all at the same time. About a little girl who has brought so much joy to our days, a kind of joy for which we will be eternally grateful.

And we talked about our sweet baby, the one who has been gone just shy of two weeks and it feels like two years. The one we named Carly Kristine…and we talk about her in our house, and it just feels right even though it makes us cry.

And I was reminded again that even in the ups and downs, there’s no other person I’d rather walk this journey with. Happy anniversary, Tobin…I. Love. You.

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And I thought a little, too, about how writing is how I cope right now. It’s how I process life, and I don’t worry so much about how or what I write but more about where my heart is when I write the words.

And it goes back to my Father. Because He knows and He loves…and though there are times I have to remind myself of His love, it’s always there.

And maybe in all of these words and stories, I’m just trying to survive. And He’s giving me a way to survive. To live. It’s important.

And some days we just breathe…and figure it out as we go.

Thank you to all of you who have been praying…you need to know that your prayers mean the world to us. And that we’re ok…because He’s holding us.

To Monday, a new week…and the adventures that are waiting. :)

Sig

Pieces That Make a Story

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Fifteen years ago…and I can’t believe it’s been that long…I hopped a plane with some friends. Our destination was the country of Peru, a place that, at the time, seemed about as far from home as one could possibly be.

And it was great…it was three plus weeks of laughing, learning, memory making…and most of all, getting my first glimpses into the heart of my Father and how He was at work in another place.

I’d grown up with missions…at least from the perspective of missionaries who’d visited my church. I’d come to understand that missionaries were people who planted churches, preached sermons in another language, and started Bible colleges. Therefore, I knew I’d never be one.

But Peru changed that.

It was on that trip that my Father began speaking to me and opening doors in my heart that had always been closed. It was during those weeks God told me that if I was willing, He would give me a place. Somewhere.

Where that was, I didn’t know, but I was sure that God was calling me to be a teacher, and I made plans, almost immediately, to return to the place that had captured my heart.

Enter: a year and a half later and a boy. 😉

His name started with a T, he had an amazing smile, and I fell head over heels within minutes. (That’s kind of embarrassing to admit now.) He was settled, had a good job, and there was no way missions was even on the horizon for us. Oh, yeah…us. We became an us pretty quickly. 😉

There was a part of me that was devastated to give up Peru…but by then, well…love. I was heart-deep in it.

A ring followed, and then a house…before the wedding, even. Don’t worry…he was the one only who lived there. 😉

In the tiny part of my brain that is logical, I knew. His job was stable, we’d just bought a house…we were staying. Or so we thought. 

So we said our I-do’s, ate pie, and jetted off to Jamaica. We came home from our honeymoon, I started a new job as a nanny, and BAM. He called me on a Wednesday morning. Mel, I got laid off.

Total shock. We had not expected this…especially not to him. Tobin is good…and he’s good at what he does. And there’s a whole lot more to the story, and it has nothing to do with his abilities and talent and everything to do with his name being randomly chosen from a list in order to downsize.

But, really…that was the door we needed to close in order for more doors to open.

For the next nine months, he searched like crazy and interviewed like crazier. The job market was horrible, money was tight, and we started to wonder. More, if that’s even possible.

We prayed over it before emptying our bank account to purchase two plane tickets for Nicaragua and Honduras. Two weeks in March were spent with missionaries we knew. We were hoping…praying…wondering…was this it? Was God calling us to something else?

We came home from that grand adventure…and we were confused. There were no strong pulls for either of us to Central America, we were teetering on having about no money, and we were starting to lose faith.

And then came a job offer that would at least pay the bills. Buy us some time until we could figure this out.

But by then, we knew. We knew the call, and we knew that saying no wasn’t even an option.

And so…we prayed. And waited. Pushed on a few doors. Cried when they slammed back in our faces.

Finally, two years later…His answer. Indonesia.

Really, God? A country that really IS about as far from home as we can get?

After locating it on a map 😉 and praying it through, we knew our answer was an overwhelming YES. Less than six months later our house was sold, our cars about to be sold, most of our belongings were gone, we’d sent our dog on ahead to Jakarta (yes, yes we did…), our bags were packed, and the monsoon of goodbyes began.

And we went…and it was life-changing. It was the best and worst, it was life-altering and felt strangely like a piece home…it was His plan. I don’t paint a picture of Indonesia that is all sunsets and beauty…though the sunsets were spectacular and the green about as beautiful as anything can be.

Indonesia was a paradox of joy and struggle, of hope and heartbreak, of embracing and longing. It was all of those things, often all of them at the same time.

And like any good piece to the journey, it ended, and we said goodbye to people and a place that had embedded themselves so deeply into our hearts that we were forever changed.

And now we sit in the middle of what came next. Ok, ok, so maybe we’re not exactly sitting…who has time to sit with a toddler running around?! 😉 We’re doing our best to trust His plan and embrace each moment as it comes, knowing that our Father always, always has a far greater plan than we can ever imagine.

Tobin and I will celebrate twelve years in just a few weeks, and as I look back, I see so many pieces. I see pieces that didn’t always make sense…

And yet…He took them. He is still taking them. And He is writing our story with them.

And I might not know what He’s making out of the pieces of the now, either…but I know it’s going to be good.

Because He is good. And He writes some pretty incredible stories.

Photo Credit: Nomadic Lass

Sig

The Cost of a Dream

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I’ve talked here and there about the piece of my story that involves Indonesia.

The short version is that my husband and I spent five years there…serving, living, loving.

It was good, and it was full of lessons.

It was hard, and it was full of tears.

It was long, and at the same time, it went by too quickly.

I’ve been back in the States for about four years, and I mean it when I say not a day goes by that I don’t ache for Indonesia.

But something God has had to teach me is that the ache isn’t a bad thing.

Rather, it means that it meant something.

Nearly nine years ago we were selling off our lives…the tangible parts at least. Except for putting some things in storage and packing eight suitcases/containers, it was all going away…to friends and family, to strangers, some of it even to the curb.

It was what we had to do to follow the dream of Indonesia, and we were okay with that. Mostly.

But following a God-sized dream like Indonesia came at a price.

Today I’m over at God-sized Dreams, talking about the real of following a dream…and the beauty that He brings when we choose Him. Join me? :)

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You Are Four

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Dear baby girl, the one who’s not so much a baby anymore…

My Maelie Naomi.

Today you are four. FOUR. As in, years old. Wowza, where did the time go?

I was telling a friend tonight, through a stifled giggle, about life exactly four years ago. I was so enormously pregnant that I refused to even take a picture.

And yet I knew, somehow, that the little person inside me was worth the hugeness…that she was going to burst into my life and change it forever.

That, my sweet Mae, is exactly what you have done.

Each year, as I take the time to look back, I realize just how much you have changed me. Just how much better my life is because you fill my days.

I hear your howling and singing, the first things to alert me that you are ready to greet each new day. Sometimes I ask you to turn down the volume, but the truth is? I love your exuberance. And I love YOU even more.

Howl away. Really. :)

I see the joy you find in the simplest things…in playing outside, in a new little pony, in jumping on the bed only to leap into my arms for a hug…you see the beauty everywhere and you embrace it completely.

I love that about you.

We’ve watched you grow and change so much in the last year…your first year of school already behind you, several haircuts and jeans sizes (quit getting so tall already!) passed, many new skills and words, too. OH. You are just soaking up every piece of life around you.

It’s amazing.

You talk about wanting a baby sister. Sometimes you pretend you already have one. And often, we’ll stop what we’re doing to pray for one.

Sweet girl, I would love to see that happen for you. For all of us. And watching your faith grow as you kneel and ask Him for such a deep desire is something that melts me and breaks me all at the same time.

You are learning lessons, already, in resting in God’s will and trusting Him. It’s not easy but it’s worth it.

But I really, really, hope that this is the year you will get to be a sister. Because I think you’d be an amazing one.

There are so many people who love you…when I pause to look around at this community, I see just how blessed we are with the people who love you…and you love them right back.

Please, sweet girl…never stop. Never stop loving people.

It’s a bittersweet night for me…the last night of having a three year-old in the house. I stroke the hair away from your face, watch your chest rise and fall as you sleep, and I know these days are numbered. This doesn’t last forever.

But I also know something else…I know a lot of somethings, but this one thing sticks out more than anything.

God gave us the most precious blessing in you…and every day is a gift.

I’m so glad I get to spend this life with you.

Dream big and love even bigger, my sweet girl.

He’s always got you. You are His forever.

All my love,
Mommy

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Five-Minute Friday: Hands

Today I’m linking up with Lisa-Jo for Five-Minute Friday. So, grab a timer, set it for five minutes, and join me!

The rules: Write for five minutes. No editing, revising, overthinking, or backtracking. Just write. Then leave some comment love for the person who linked up before you…and anyone else because that’s the fun and the heart of the community!

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Today’s prompt: Hands

I seriously can’t believe this is the prompt this week.

I’m not kidding when I tell you that my eyes filled with tears the second I saw it. The word, Hands.

You see, God gave me a gift this week. One He knew I needed…even when I didn’t know that.

He sent me a friend…a sweet friend from years ago. We’ve kept up as much as we could, but oceans and countries made that harder. Our lives were so separate…so alike, but that physical separation by miles isn’t always easy to bridge.

But she came for three days…and they were three of the most precious days. Days I will hold in my heart for a long, long time.

There were so many conversations. Some laughs. A lot of deep. Connections…sharing lives that had so many similarities but hadn’t been able to connect in the same room for so long.

What a beautiful gift.

She pulled away on Tuesday morning, and the tears streamed down my cheeks as I watched her go. And then I just breathed thanks…because God knows what we need, and He gives it in the most beautiful, unexpected ways.

But before she went, she left a sweet gift with me and my girl. Something from her life to wear on our wrists…a reminder to pray, and a reminder of our friend.

And so I did what seemed right at the time…I took a picture of our hands.

Just so I could have that little reminder of friendship. And of the way God brings people together in His timing.

Tonight, just before I left for praise team practice, I asked God something. Please give me a word that works…I’d love to write my Five-Minute Friday about this.

And He knew…and He gave it to me.

Friends. Always connected by our Father, even if we can’t be together. I love that He cares about the littlest things.

I’m so blessed.

Five Minute Friday

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