So here I am, at a new blog address, new blog title, new blog design. Sometimes it's nice to have a change.
I wish it were possible for me to be able to simply write my own experiences, my own life, in my own words without people getting on my blog and making it about them, but it's not. So instead of making my blog private, I went this route and seriously doubt there's any chance of these negative people ever finding my here. But if they did (and they'd seriously have to stalk me in order to do so), I guess it is what it is.
So as I do begin to write again on my own blog, I'll preface it with this. It's simply that: my own personal blog. It's my own personal experiences. It's my own personal insight's. It's my own personal faith. It's my record of my life. If you can relate in any way or if it encourages you, that's great. If you think completely different than I do, that's great, too. Agree. Disagree. Read it. Don't read it. I don't care. But take it for what it is.
And that's all I have to say about that.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Day #3 of The 30-day Giving Challenge - Cancer and a hot meal
When I arrived home from Africa, I learned that sadly, one of our neighbors had been diagnosed with breast cancer. I don't know this neighbor well, but we're friendly and would say hi at the pool during the summer and wave in the neighborhood. I do know that she's young, a wife and mother of 3 children. She's a daughter and probably a sister. She has friends and family that have all been affected by her diagnosis. The scope of cancer goes far beyond just her or her immediate family. I hate cancer.
Another neighbor has rallied together the neighborhood to support this woman and her family while she's undergoing Chemo, doing what she can to support her through allowing people to sign-up to bring meals during the week, especially on Chemo days.
So last night, I had the privilege of preparing and bringing a meal to my neighbor and her family. It wasn't much, just a homemade chicken pot-pie, a salad and a chocolate pie, but she and her family were so gracious and so appreciative.
Her head was wrapped with a silk scarf, as she quietly explained that she'd already lost all of her hair. And that although she had a wig, it was more comfortable to go without. I can't even begin to imagine what that must feel like.
As I pulled out of her drive-way, my eyes welled up with tears and my thoughts immediately went to my grandma. My mom's mom was diagnosed with cancer at age 50, a few years before I was born. She fought courageously and even after a long bout of remission, lost her battle 15 years later. I, too, remember the silk scarfs that used to wrap my grandmothers head when she was sick and having treatments. I remember seeing my grandmother, truly the most healthy women I have ever known, grow smaller and more sick as the cancer slowly took her life.
And even though my beautiful Grandma Johnson had cancer and was in and out of remission for the entire time that I had with her, there are two things that stick out to me most about my grandmother, two legacies that she left for me.
First, she left a legacy for Jesus. She didn't just call herself a Christian or "spiritual" (gag), her life spoke volumes to the fact that she loved the Lord and she was a true servant for Jesus. When she asked Jesus into her heart and gave her life to him, it not only changed her life, but the life of her entire family and in ways that she'll never even know. Because then my mom became a Christian. Both her and my grandma began to attend Bible Study Fellowship (BSF) and were even leaders. Then my mom brought me to the children's program of BSF and in May of 1982, at the age of five, I accepted Jesus into my heart. Fast forward to this year and I led my own five year old son to Jesus. My grandma loved Jesus and made sure that everyone around her knew just how important that her relationship was. She understood that even though it's a personal relationship, it not a private one. She knew the power of Christ and wanted to make sure that no one missed it. Talk about a legacy for Christ.
And even more, I spoke to my mom just yesterday and she has started BSF again. She thought that her leader looked familiar and when she went to speak with her, she found out that her leader not only knew my grandmother, but talked about how much she enjoyed her and most importantly, how much she loved the Lord. Hearing that made my day.
The second thing that I remember about my grandma, especially when it came to her battle with cancer, is that she never played the victim. Sure, having cancer was brutal and something that eventually killed her, but she knew that God had a plan for her life and she wasn't about to succumb to the, "Woe is me. I have it worse than everyone else" syndrome that is so prevalent today. I never heard my grandma complain, but I do remember seeing her on her knees in prayer. I'm positive that she struggled, but she ultimately laid it has feet. Even in the midst of her own battle with cancer, she gave of her time and her heart. She was always volunteering or at church. She lived and died with cancer, but made sure that the world knew she was victorious through Christ, not a victim of her circumstances.
Next month marks 20 years since my grandma went to be with the Lord. I miss my grandma.
Another neighbor has rallied together the neighborhood to support this woman and her family while she's undergoing Chemo, doing what she can to support her through allowing people to sign-up to bring meals during the week, especially on Chemo days.
So last night, I had the privilege of preparing and bringing a meal to my neighbor and her family. It wasn't much, just a homemade chicken pot-pie, a salad and a chocolate pie, but she and her family were so gracious and so appreciative.
Her head was wrapped with a silk scarf, as she quietly explained that she'd already lost all of her hair. And that although she had a wig, it was more comfortable to go without. I can't even begin to imagine what that must feel like.
As I pulled out of her drive-way, my eyes welled up with tears and my thoughts immediately went to my grandma. My mom's mom was diagnosed with cancer at age 50, a few years before I was born. She fought courageously and even after a long bout of remission, lost her battle 15 years later. I, too, remember the silk scarfs that used to wrap my grandmothers head when she was sick and having treatments. I remember seeing my grandmother, truly the most healthy women I have ever known, grow smaller and more sick as the cancer slowly took her life.
And even though my beautiful Grandma Johnson had cancer and was in and out of remission for the entire time that I had with her, there are two things that stick out to me most about my grandmother, two legacies that she left for me.
First, she left a legacy for Jesus. She didn't just call herself a Christian or "spiritual" (gag), her life spoke volumes to the fact that she loved the Lord and she was a true servant for Jesus. When she asked Jesus into her heart and gave her life to him, it not only changed her life, but the life of her entire family and in ways that she'll never even know. Because then my mom became a Christian. Both her and my grandma began to attend Bible Study Fellowship (BSF) and were even leaders. Then my mom brought me to the children's program of BSF and in May of 1982, at the age of five, I accepted Jesus into my heart. Fast forward to this year and I led my own five year old son to Jesus. My grandma loved Jesus and made sure that everyone around her knew just how important that her relationship was. She understood that even though it's a personal relationship, it not a private one. She knew the power of Christ and wanted to make sure that no one missed it. Talk about a legacy for Christ.
And even more, I spoke to my mom just yesterday and she has started BSF again. She thought that her leader looked familiar and when she went to speak with her, she found out that her leader not only knew my grandmother, but talked about how much she enjoyed her and most importantly, how much she loved the Lord. Hearing that made my day.
The second thing that I remember about my grandma, especially when it came to her battle with cancer, is that she never played the victim. Sure, having cancer was brutal and something that eventually killed her, but she knew that God had a plan for her life and she wasn't about to succumb to the, "Woe is me. I have it worse than everyone else" syndrome that is so prevalent today. I never heard my grandma complain, but I do remember seeing her on her knees in prayer. I'm positive that she struggled, but she ultimately laid it has feet. Even in the midst of her own battle with cancer, she gave of her time and her heart. She was always volunteering or at church. She lived and died with cancer, but made sure that the world knew she was victorious through Christ, not a victim of her circumstances.
Next month marks 20 years since my grandma went to be with the Lord. I miss my grandma.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Day #2 of The 30-day Giving Challenge - Love letters and simple giving
So for my first day of the giving challenge, I decided to start right here at home. And who better to start with than my fabulous husband, Bob. So here's my chance to brag a little bit...
Bob and I have been married for 9 years and together for 10. Bob is not just my husband, but he's everything that God intended for me to have in a partner. He's my confidant. He's my number one cheerleader. He's my comic-relief. He's my lover. He's my best friend. We are not married out of duty or obligation, but our marriage is built on God-principles and based upon love and respect. Do we have the "perfect marriage"? Absolutely not! No one does! But we are acutely aware of just how imperfect we are and we come to the cross daily to leave our marriage at His feet.
And above all else, Bob is the spiritual leader of our home. He puts everything in it's natural order: God, wife, children and then everything else. I'm incredibly proud of the man that Bob is and I love watching him become such an incredible man of God. I am so proud to have Bob as my husband.
But I also realize the important role that I have as his wife. God has placed me by Bob's side as his helper and encourager. Bob needs to know that I support him and love him and that I'm proud of him. He needs to know that he's appreciated and that I recognize how hard that he works for me and for our family.
I love writing Bob love letters, but in the last few months, I've started leaving messages with a dry erase marker on both Bob's and Mason's bathroom mirrors. It's my little love letter to the men in my life. So here was yesterday's message (and no laughing at the pet name!):
Bob and I have been married for 9 years and together for 10. Bob is not just my husband, but he's everything that God intended for me to have in a partner. He's my confidant. He's my number one cheerleader. He's my comic-relief. He's my lover. He's my best friend. We are not married out of duty or obligation, but our marriage is built on God-principles and based upon love and respect. Do we have the "perfect marriage"? Absolutely not! No one does! But we are acutely aware of just how imperfect we are and we come to the cross daily to leave our marriage at His feet.
And above all else, Bob is the spiritual leader of our home. He puts everything in it's natural order: God, wife, children and then everything else. I'm incredibly proud of the man that Bob is and I love watching him become such an incredible man of God. I am so proud to have Bob as my husband.
But I also realize the important role that I have as his wife. God has placed me by Bob's side as his helper and encourager. Bob needs to know that I support him and love him and that I'm proud of him. He needs to know that he's appreciated and that I recognize how hard that he works for me and for our family.
I love writing Bob love letters, but in the last few months, I've started leaving messages with a dry erase marker on both Bob's and Mason's bathroom mirrors. It's my little love letter to the men in my life. So here was yesterday's message (and no laughing at the pet name!):
"Always know how much I love you.
I'm so proud of you.
Love, Sugarplum"
I realize that often times the best gift that I can give to my husband is the gift of encouragement. It may be a simple, "Thank you." Or maybe a written note that I hide somewhere in the house for him to find. Or maybe a love letter written to him on the bathroom mirror, just so he knows how much I love him and just how proud I am to be his wife. The smallest gestures can be the biggest gift in someone's life.
And while I'm here, I'll report what I've already given for Day #2...
A few weeks ago I befriended a homeless kid outside of BJ's. His name is Lindsay and he's 18 years old. He spent his life in the foster care system and recently aged out, only to end up out on the streets. I keep looking for him every time I'm in that area, but haven't seen him again since. Since that day, I've started keeping a large bag in my car full of clean clothes and old jackets, blankets and food. In the event that I see Lindsay again, I'll have some things to pass along to him (as well as some resources that I've since found out about for him).
I looked for Lindsay today, but I didn't see him. However, I did see another man on a corner that is frequented by homeless men and women, especially now that the weather has become cold. At that red light, I was able to give this man a few t-shirts, a sweater, a blanket and a bag full of snacks and food. It took little to no effort for me to put the bag together and have it available if I saw someone in need.
What will Day #3 bring?
Monday, November 1, 2010
My weekend in photos
We had such a busy weekend, so I thought I'd share the photos from our fun-filled, Halloween weekend!
Enjoy!
Enjoy!
Fun on the farm on Mason's Field trip
Time to carve the pumpkin (and take out the brains, as Mason would say!)
The Annual Neighborhood Halloween Party
(I LOVE my neighborhood!)
Halloween Dinner and Trick-or-Treating with friends
(and yes, it is impossible to get eight kids to look at the camera at once, but at least Mason's smiling!)
The 30-day Giving Challenge
Nobody can do everything, but everyone can do something.
~ Author Unknown
~ Author Unknown
Today is November 1st and if you're anything like me, you already feel flung head first into the upcoming holiday season. I love the holidays. Spending time with friends and loved ones. The festive decorating. Choosing that perfect gift for your spouse and children. The food! Ah, so many things to love and yet, so many things to stress over. Like, stressful times with family. All the time it takes to decorate (which, we as moms and women do most of!). Buying gifts on a budget. And gaining weight from all that food!
With Thanksgiving being only 3.5 weeks away, most of us begin to think about just how thankful we are. And while it's important to be thankful, it really puts the focus on us, "I'm thankful for ..." After all, there are two parts to Thanksgiving; the "thanks" part and the "giving" part. This month, I'm committing to the latter part of the word, the "giving" part. This month I'm committing to the 30-day Giving Challenge. Simply put, it's just what it sounds like. I'm taking each day during the month of November and I'm consciously making the effort to give. Give my time. Give my money. Give my resources. Just give of my heart. Let me be very clear that my giving has nothing to do with me and everything to do with Jesus. I will listen and respond to the promptings of the holy spirit. I'm pledging to God that I will continue to say yes to all the little things and that it will all be to His glory. Period.
I'm pretty excited to see where God will take me this month. He's already got ideas swirling around in my head, but I'm not going to share them here just yet because I don't want to ruin the surprise if I'm planning something for someone who reads my blog. You'll just have to wait and read what God does this month and I pledge to post about it everyday.
So I'm wondering who will join me? What can you do this month above and beyond what you normally do? How can you sacrificially give this month to His glory? Don't think of it as a service project or something to cross off your list but of something you get to do.
Here's to an awesome month of giving!
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
I can't put put my finger on it
I returned on Thursday evening from my trip to Uganda. Why is it then that I don't feel as though I've really returned? I keep telling myself that it's jet lag or just getting re acclimated after the trip, but it's definitely something more; I just can't seem to put my finger on it.
Everyone wants to know how it went. What did I see? What did I do? Expressing that they can't wait to see the photos. And of course, this is all great. But I know for sure that I'm still processing it all. That it's not merely a series of stories and that the photos can't possibly capture all that I'm feeling after traveling to Uganda. I can't seem to put my finger on it.
I know that this is where I live. That this is where my family and friends are. But why do I feel so out of place? As if my heart caught a glimpse of something more and keeps nagging at me, not allowing me forget what it saw and heard and felt.
My world is bigger now than my little town in North Carolina or than the United States. I've seen what's outside and now I'm obligated to do something about it. I can no longer claim ignorance or any other excuse. Because after all, that's what they are - excuses.
I can't ignore the fact that I've held and played with precious children with AIDS, orphaned by parents who've died of AIDS or Malaria or some other preventable disease. I can't pretend that I've never seen firsthand the distended bellies of starvation or the crying two-year old little girl that I gave my Luna bar to, her tears from an empty belly. There are no more excuses.
I kept a journal during my trip, just so I could remember what I was doing and where I was during each day. I'll begin to share a little bit each day, just so I can take my time to process it all and so I can share with everyone about my trip to Uganda. It's my trip through my eyes.
In conclusion today, I want to share a song with you that played on repeat in my head while I was in Africa. A few weeks before I left, I won tickets to see a concert with Matthew West, Josh Wilson and Jonny Diaz (I know, right? What an awesome line-up!) Matthew's newest single from his new album is called "My Own Little World" and the lyrics kept playing in my head while I was there. Beyond even my time there, how does it translate here back at home? God knows my heart and already knows how much I give, but can I be giving and doing more? I think I already know the answer to that question.
Everyone wants to know how it went. What did I see? What did I do? Expressing that they can't wait to see the photos. And of course, this is all great. But I know for sure that I'm still processing it all. That it's not merely a series of stories and that the photos can't possibly capture all that I'm feeling after traveling to Uganda. I can't seem to put my finger on it.
I know that this is where I live. That this is where my family and friends are. But why do I feel so out of place? As if my heart caught a glimpse of something more and keeps nagging at me, not allowing me forget what it saw and heard and felt.
My world is bigger now than my little town in North Carolina or than the United States. I've seen what's outside and now I'm obligated to do something about it. I can no longer claim ignorance or any other excuse. Because after all, that's what they are - excuses.
I can't ignore the fact that I've held and played with precious children with AIDS, orphaned by parents who've died of AIDS or Malaria or some other preventable disease. I can't pretend that I've never seen firsthand the distended bellies of starvation or the crying two-year old little girl that I gave my Luna bar to, her tears from an empty belly. There are no more excuses.
I kept a journal during my trip, just so I could remember what I was doing and where I was during each day. I'll begin to share a little bit each day, just so I can take my time to process it all and so I can share with everyone about my trip to Uganda. It's my trip through my eyes.
In conclusion today, I want to share a song with you that played on repeat in my head while I was in Africa. A few weeks before I left, I won tickets to see a concert with Matthew West, Josh Wilson and Jonny Diaz (I know, right? What an awesome line-up!) Matthew's newest single from his new album is called "My Own Little World" and the lyrics kept playing in my head while I was there. Beyond even my time there, how does it translate here back at home? God knows my heart and already knows how much I give, but can I be giving and doing more? I think I already know the answer to that question.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
We all need training wheels
I've been so busy with the first few meetings of MOPS, getting ready for my trip to Africa and preparing ahead for October 15th Raleigh that I haven't been on mine or any other blogs in weeks.
October is here and in North Carolina, the first hints of fall have arrived. We woke up this morning in the 50's and I'm absolutely loving it! Fall is my favorite time of the year. Mason has been begging to take his training wheels of his bike so he can practice before we move to a "bigger boy" bike, and it's the perfect weekend to do so. Did I mention how much I love the fall!
Mason is a bit of a dare devil and has little fear, but it just hasn't felt right until now to take off the training wheels. We needed to know that he was ready. We didn't give Mason his first bike at 3 without training wheels because we knew he wasn't ready. He needed to practice, to get a feel for the ride. He needed to learn to peddle and turn and stop. It's all a process and had we taken the bike out of the box and simply said, "Ride!", he would not have been ready. He needed to attain the experience and confidence that only time can build. In fact, pushing him too soon may have adversely effected his experience and confidence. Mason is now five. His balance is better now. He can stop on his own if needed. He's already fallen a few times and he knows the risks, but he's willing to try. And most importantly, he knows that Bob and I are still there with him if he needs us. After all, we're his parents and we love him and know what's best for him.
Aren't you glad that God is the same kind of loving parent to us? He loves us so much and knows what we need, when we need it. He gets us ready for what's ahead, for what we can't even see. But He sees it. We have this minute perspective on our lives, but he sees the big picture. We may be thinking, "But I want it right now!" or "Why do I have to struggle like this?" But all along, in ways we can't even fathom, He's preparing our hearts for what's ahead.
And His timing is perfect. In all His love and wisdom, He slowly prepares us for what's ahead, in ways we may not see until we're there. But there are no accidents. God doesn't screw up. He just needs us to trust that He has it under control. But I do have to warn you: It's going to be uncomfortable. We're going to be so tired that we can't possibly go any farther. We're going to fall and it's going to hurt. But then there He is, right beside us. Encouraging us. Holding us. Carrying us through. And even when we finally get that point where we say, "Okay, I CAN do this," we know that we don't do it alone, that we can't. That He's still there right beside us, loving and guiding us through it all. I guess we all need training wheels.
When I return from Africa, our family will begin the paperwork and home studies for adoption. We are not pulled one way or the other towards domestic vs. international adoption, but we have decided to begin with domestic infant adoption. Had you asked me (and I was asked, many times) two years or even one year ago if I was open to adoption, I would have said, "no" (and yes, to the countless conversations in the last two years, this had been my response). But what I know now is that I just wasn't ready. God needed to prepare me. He needed to prepare my heart, my mind and my soul for adoption. He needed me to be ready before He brought us to this place. He brought me through the utter devastation and heartache of losing a son to two years of infertility and failed fertility treatments in order to get me right to this place. Was it painful? You bet! Did I ask a whole lot of "why's?" Without a doubt! But is He faithful? Absolutely!
What I've come to discover is that I am not alone in this process. I have met and talked to countless women and families who have traveled similar journeys. That when you suffer from infertility and God closes that door, He very often opens the door of adoption. What a beautiful thing! It's not hopeless. He hears our cries and He loves us so much and loves orphans so much that He has a way to fulfill the promise of our family. He sees Mason's broken heart of so desperately wanting a little sister and He fills that desire.
Romans 8:15 (The Message) tells us, "You received God's spirit when He adopted you as His own children. Now we call Him, "Abba Father!""
If you have been born-again and asked Jesus to be your Lord and Savior (these being the literal words of Jesus in John 3:7. And yes, He is the only way, John 14:6), then you are in fact adopted into the family of God! We are not born His children, but when we say "yes" to all that He has for us, He adopts us as His forever children. What a beautiful promise.
So, long story long, I'm grateful that God is so patient. I'm so grateful for His grace and His sovereignty. I'm so grateful that I don't have to do this on my own. I'm so very grateful for training wheels.
October is here and in North Carolina, the first hints of fall have arrived. We woke up this morning in the 50's and I'm absolutely loving it! Fall is my favorite time of the year. Mason has been begging to take his training wheels of his bike so he can practice before we move to a "bigger boy" bike, and it's the perfect weekend to do so. Did I mention how much I love the fall!
Mason is a bit of a dare devil and has little fear, but it just hasn't felt right until now to take off the training wheels. We needed to know that he was ready. We didn't give Mason his first bike at 3 without training wheels because we knew he wasn't ready. He needed to practice, to get a feel for the ride. He needed to learn to peddle and turn and stop. It's all a process and had we taken the bike out of the box and simply said, "Ride!", he would not have been ready. He needed to attain the experience and confidence that only time can build. In fact, pushing him too soon may have adversely effected his experience and confidence. Mason is now five. His balance is better now. He can stop on his own if needed. He's already fallen a few times and he knows the risks, but he's willing to try. And most importantly, he knows that Bob and I are still there with him if he needs us. After all, we're his parents and we love him and know what's best for him.
Aren't you glad that God is the same kind of loving parent to us? He loves us so much and knows what we need, when we need it. He gets us ready for what's ahead, for what we can't even see. But He sees it. We have this minute perspective on our lives, but he sees the big picture. We may be thinking, "But I want it right now!" or "Why do I have to struggle like this?" But all along, in ways we can't even fathom, He's preparing our hearts for what's ahead.
And His timing is perfect. In all His love and wisdom, He slowly prepares us for what's ahead, in ways we may not see until we're there. But there are no accidents. God doesn't screw up. He just needs us to trust that He has it under control. But I do have to warn you: It's going to be uncomfortable. We're going to be so tired that we can't possibly go any farther. We're going to fall and it's going to hurt. But then there He is, right beside us. Encouraging us. Holding us. Carrying us through. And even when we finally get that point where we say, "Okay, I CAN do this," we know that we don't do it alone, that we can't. That He's still there right beside us, loving and guiding us through it all. I guess we all need training wheels.
When I return from Africa, our family will begin the paperwork and home studies for adoption. We are not pulled one way or the other towards domestic vs. international adoption, but we have decided to begin with domestic infant adoption. Had you asked me (and I was asked, many times) two years or even one year ago if I was open to adoption, I would have said, "no" (and yes, to the countless conversations in the last two years, this had been my response). But what I know now is that I just wasn't ready. God needed to prepare me. He needed to prepare my heart, my mind and my soul for adoption. He needed me to be ready before He brought us to this place. He brought me through the utter devastation and heartache of losing a son to two years of infertility and failed fertility treatments in order to get me right to this place. Was it painful? You bet! Did I ask a whole lot of "why's?" Without a doubt! But is He faithful? Absolutely!
What I've come to discover is that I am not alone in this process. I have met and talked to countless women and families who have traveled similar journeys. That when you suffer from infertility and God closes that door, He very often opens the door of adoption. What a beautiful thing! It's not hopeless. He hears our cries and He loves us so much and loves orphans so much that He has a way to fulfill the promise of our family. He sees Mason's broken heart of so desperately wanting a little sister and He fills that desire.
Romans 8:15 (The Message) tells us, "You received God's spirit when He adopted you as His own children. Now we call Him, "Abba Father!""
If you have been born-again and asked Jesus to be your Lord and Savior (these being the literal words of Jesus in John 3:7. And yes, He is the only way, John 14:6), then you are in fact adopted into the family of God! We are not born His children, but when we say "yes" to all that He has for us, He adopts us as His forever children. What a beautiful promise.
So, long story long, I'm grateful that God is so patient. I'm so grateful for His grace and His sovereignty. I'm so grateful that I don't have to do this on my own. I'm so very grateful for training wheels.
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