tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54459256582276243082024-03-12T19:46:25.450-05:00All About the Allens-Beth-http://www.blogger.com/profile/04084765790601870793noreply@blogger.comBlogger324125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5445925658227624308.post-46396579328460569172018-12-06T15:40:00.000-06:002018-12-06T16:40:01.145-06:006 years post Gibson<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgelz2lBfULMtXYqQJCSi0uVZSvBbK4ySxj5bxWYj3m_ccteSteDwoWNcuNFLnCbORo2hs9O4WIxi2L71O832OCcASDM7kwehj6mKfJWdnRek1I-p8E06vc9TO3GE-bMcfMF2YQd_d0vto/s1600/IMG_5831.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgelz2lBfULMtXYqQJCSi0uVZSvBbK4ySxj5bxWYj3m_ccteSteDwoWNcuNFLnCbORo2hs9O4WIxi2L71O832OCcASDM7kwehj6mKfJWdnRek1I-p8E06vc9TO3GE-bMcfMF2YQd_d0vto/s320/IMG_5831.PNG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
6 years post Gibson<br />
<br />
<br />
I definitely don't share as much now about the grieving process as I did in the early years- that doesn't mean it isn't changing and it doesn't mean it doesn't matter anymore. For me it seemed like those first seasons of grief moved & changed much more quickly. I've said before grief is like an onion we just keep peeling away the layers. Some are sweet, some have different flavor, and some bring many more tears. </div>
</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
This season for some reason brought a different realization to me. I've watched other friends and acquaintances bury babies and while sometimes I hope that having walked through this for so long now I have some sort of wisdom or extra encouraging words to say, but most of the time it's still best to just say you're sorry. Everyone tries to rationalize these things. There is no explanation on this side of heaven. It's very clear that God does not "need" them. Well wishers might say this, and yes they definitely are in a better place, but that is the last thing you need to say to a mother or father who just lost their precious child.<br />
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>What I feel like I've realized this year is that there is just as much power in the healing process of a heart as in an actual physical healing of a heart. </b></div>
</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
Along with a list of anomalies a mile long, Gibson had multiple holes in his heart. One of those last things they hoped to do was a surgery that hadn't really been done on babies his size. After all the other things his little body had endured for 3.5 months his heart lungs just did not want to play together. The day before he died one of his doctors, who was a believer, sat us down and told us we needed to pray for a miracle. </div>
</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
As much as I wanted him to be with me on earth for as long as I lived- no mother should have to bury her child. I wanted his body to be whole and well. I had watched his body go through so very much for months that I can't even explain. </div>
</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
But in that moment when that doctor said that as much as I hoped for a miracle, something whispered in my ear that if he was not healed here on earth people would not see the goodness of God through his little life. That, my friends is a lie of the devil.<br />
<br />
·····<br />
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I was sitting in a Tori Kelly concert recently as she sang the song, "Questions..."</span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="text-align: center;"><b><i>What happens when the healing never comes?</i></b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="text-align: center;"><b><i>Do we stand and curse the heavens</i></b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); text-align: center;"><b><i>Or lift our hands and feel the sun</i></b></span><br />
<span style="text-align: center;"><b><i>The mystery's not clear</i></b></span><br />
<span style="text-align: center;"><b><i>Just once, Your voice I'd love to hear</i></b></span><br />
<span style="text-align: center;"><b><i>What happens when the healing never comes?</i></b></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
<div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); text-align: center;"><b><i>Is there a chance for me to believe</i></b></span></div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); text-align: center;"><b><i>We would dance together soon</i></b></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); text-align: center;"><b><i>If there's a billion galaxies</i></b></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); text-align: center;"><b><i>I'll count each one 'til I'm with You</i></b></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); text-align: center;"><b><i>They say where You are is better</i></b></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); text-align: center;"><b><i>But I want You here with me</i></b></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); text-align: center;"><b><i>Oh, this is for a purpose</i></b></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); text-align: center;"><b><i>But hurt won't</i></b> <i><b>let me see</b></i></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); text-align: center;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); text-align: center;"><b><i>So now I must be silent</i></b></span></div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); text-align: center;"><b><i>Your voice is in the wind</i></b></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); text-align: center;"><b><i>The hands that made the heavens</i></b></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<b><i><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); text-align: center;">Will heal the storm</span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); text-align: center;"> within</span></i></b></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); text-align: center;"><b><i>I have so many questions</i></b></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); text-align: center;"><b><i>I don't know where to begin</i></b></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); text-align: center;"><b><i>Since You were there at the beginning</i></b></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); text-align: center;"><b><i>You already know the end</i></b></span></div>
</div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I suddenly found tears pouring down my cheeks. I'd heard the song before, but something about it that night, coming up on this day, with my husband on my left and one of my dearest friends who's walked through every step of grief with me on my right, it hit me and peeled this whole new layer & revelation in my grieving process.</span></div>
</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<div style="text-align: start;">
</div>
<span style="text-align: center;">
</span></div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I couldn't see at the time that the healing process we would walk through in the coming years could be just as powerful display of God's merciful grace and love as what I really longed for in that instant healing. There were days I questioned - and there still are - and that's ok. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">If you're waiting for a healing- don't lose hope. I do believe my God still does miracles. If you didn't receive the healing you were praying for- don't lose hope, the healing in YOUR heart will come. Some days may feel like it was ripped right open again but His mercies are new and continuous. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Layer peeled. -XO </span></div>
</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
-Beth-http://www.blogger.com/profile/04084765790601870793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5445925658227624308.post-78754880679519382612015-12-05T21:31:00.002-06:002015-12-05T21:31:45.852-06:003I crawled in the back of the closet this morning and dug out my box. Deep down I hoped that it would still smell like him. The scarf I wore that night that caught hundreds of tears and now wrapped my sweet memories tight. I hoped it would have the faintest smell of him. It didn't. <br />
<br />
I haven't looked through that box in a long while. Probably a couple years. I sat and read all the thoughtful words and prayers. All the sweet words of encouragement. Notes of how his life changed theirs. It brings heartache and hope in the same breath. <br />
<br />
It's been 3 years tomorrow. <br />
<br />
This year has been a different year of grieving for me. It seems each year brings a different wave of emotions and reactions. This year I feel like I was able to take a deep breath and accept freedom. Let go of the guilt. Assess some resentment I had buried deep down. And ask God some big questions - knowing that the answers may not come and may not be what I wanted to hear. But sometimes they're even better.<br />
<br />
The first year of grief I plowed through full steam ahead. I was NOT going down in that pit. I felt like if I moved and moved and moved I'd get through. And I did. I only allowed myself certain times of sitting in it and feeling it. I resolved to be thankful, make new memories and find change. We did all of those things. And we did them well. The second year was more of the same, with a lot of newness. Newness that began to reap joy. We moved into our house, we had a precious baby girl and life bloomed. We still remembered him daily. There were still very hard days and reminders but a new joy flooded our hearts. <br />
<br />
This year Stella has continued to bring joy and hope in our hearts. But something has changed in how I looked at my grief this year. Personally I've been able to stop and ask God things in the darkest parts of my heart that I was scared to uncover before. I read the book, "Soulkeeping," this year and it really allowed me to look at those places and have honest candid conversations with God. <br />
<br />
I was never mad at God. I've said before something in me wanted to be so angry in those first weeks. I wanted to scream at Him and throw things and yell, "WHY?" But that's not what rose up in my heart. I'm not mad now. But this year I've asked God to reveal to me things I needed to hear. I think I felt like if I stopped and wondered too much in that first year I would fall deep in that pit unable to get back out. I was afraid if I asked God questions He'd respond in ways my soul couldn't handle. If I let myself sit and smell the scarf, read the notes and look at his tiny handprint I would crumble. I had little eyes watching and they couldn't see me crumble anymore. People would tell me I was strong and inspiring so I figured I had to keep it up. Chin. Up. Buttercup. I put expectations on myself that others never would have. I'm not in anyway saying I regret how I walked that first year out. I'm only saying that I've found more freedom in the process of grieving this year.<br />
<br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">Once you take any wrong doings off of God and accept the process of grieving you find FREEDOM. </span> </i><br />
<br />
That is my revelation this 3rd year of grief. <br />
<br />
Soulkeeping challenges you to speak to your soul. To ask God where He is in those hard times. One day while thinking of that night 3 years ago when everything came crashing down I took a deep gulp and said, "God WHERE WERE YOU?"<br />
<br />
As everything fell apart that afternoon I sat curled up in a chair in the corner of the hospital room watching as if it weren't my reality, gripping onto that scarf around my neck. Mostly shaking my head no. As things progressed I wanted to leave. I didn't want to remember him this way and wanted to be anywhere but there. The nurses began to ask me questions to which I just kept saying no. Do you want to wait? Do you want to hold him? do you want to have people here? do you want to take pictures? No, no, no! I didn't want any of it at all. This wasn't what I'd chosen. They explained what would happen and convinced me that of course I wanted to hold him. Everyone gathered around, my rock of a husband by my side, and we were handed that sweet boy for the last time. <br />
<br />
"God WHERE WERE YOU?!?"<br />
<br />
Immediately I heard God say, "I was right there." I saw the sweetest most gentle image of my kind and compassionate savior with His arms wrapped around us weeping. <br />
<br />
He is with us IN our grief. In the moment, and in the moments and years after. I don't believe He's asking me to "move on." If anything I've asked that of myself, not my patient Father. <br />
<br />
He's ok with me sitting in my closet clinging to that scarf.<br />
<br />
One of the sweet notes I read today was from a nurse that loved & cared for Gibson. It read,<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>"Sometimes the tiniest of feet leave the biggest impression on your heart."</i></span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqDFScdCPjClE_KW_6jt2wB7tBEJe0i6xA6AOzEqMgYoaIybPU6QE1GdphEmtqjkPCGkzgRXE7HwPl16rnZgV6Hnat7PmdQK2c-AzV54giOcrALjvApNVuJuuh3kdqerZ2SIf0kYOlFL8/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqDFScdCPjClE_KW_6jt2wB7tBEJe0i6xA6AOzEqMgYoaIybPU6QE1GdphEmtqjkPCGkzgRXE7HwPl16rnZgV6Hnat7PmdQK2c-AzV54giOcrALjvApNVuJuuh3kdqerZ2SIf0kYOlFL8/s400/FullSizeRender.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
we miss you baby boy.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />-Beth-http://www.blogger.com/profile/04084765790601870793noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5445925658227624308.post-88993682122417013142015-10-15T09:00:00.000-05:002015-10-15T09:40:11.089-05:00Stella Wren is one.I cried this morning (and every morning this week) as I nursed her. Bittersweet thankful tears. How in the world a year has flown by I do not know. I still stare at her in shock. Amazed that she's real and in my arms. Amazed that she's SO beautiful. Amazed by the miracle of life. Amazed by God's goodness and love for us. <br />
<br />
When you've witnessed every possible thing that can go wrong in a baby it's easier to stand in awe when things go right.<br />
<br />
A year ago I was awakened in the night by a big surprise... a wonderful surprise. I laid in bed the night before feeling like I could burst wondering how I could wait two more days to meet this babe. And God said, "Ok, baby girl, Let's Go."<br />
<br />
The tears and the joy in her delivery will never escape me. And that was just the beginning of His restoration. <br />
<br />
I didn't let her leave my side for a couple days. I slept with her in my arms all night long in the hospital the first couple nights despite the looks of concern and offers to help from the nurses. I brought her home and still slept with her in my arms for months. (Even though I'm definitely not by nature into the whole co-sleeping business.) Daniel joked that she might move out of our room around high school age. (She's happily sleeping in her own room now.)<br />
<br />
It just seemed like day after day she was pouring God's love on me in the most simple ways. Through each milestone she's passed and each hurdle we've faced it's His goodness that's carried us. <br />
<br />
I've mentioned before the oddity of experiencing extreme joy & extreme grief simultaneously. There have been so many moments of that this year. Shame sneaks up and guilt wants to rear its ugly head while I'm enjoy my beautiful healthy baby. The loss is no less because of the gain of new life. There's still hope in eternity in the joy of the present, even on days I'm longing for the past. I'm ok with that and God's given me that freedom to feel those feelings - no apologies for when they come. <br />
<br />
Stella has truly been a gift of God's redeeming love. I can see it when Ryder stares at her and delights in her antics. I can feel it when Paisley holds her and calls her sissy. And I can see the fullness of it when she bounces on her knees and squeals, "Dadadadada!" when Daniel comes through the door. It's in every reach, every touch of her hand and every babble she makes. His goodness is here. <br />
<br />
Yep, she's hit a crazy phase. She's into EVERYthing. She's a constant ball of energy. She loves life and loves people and she's testing alllll the limits. But even in that there's a joy that is indescribable. <br />
<br />
I felt so robbed of so many things. I felt such resentment for things that would never be. But somehow He's given me those things a new. In her.<br />
<br />
Stella Wren, we love you more than all the stars in the sky. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFGS1y79pp2iV4g76IVOrorT6N3gQqYAHhHBh5J2e5bYLcBJJeZyyAiTxQZ056CXzjZJkahJzMCVs8kGGEOyfY4NIGThActPqgS3v6ls-XqCozMb3X2SSY3crqE5uv0ZRqLrkQTuSMbtY/s1600/IMG_6872.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFGS1y79pp2iV4g76IVOrorT6N3gQqYAHhHBh5J2e5bYLcBJJeZyyAiTxQZ056CXzjZJkahJzMCVs8kGGEOyfY4NIGThActPqgS3v6ls-XqCozMb3X2SSY3crqE5uv0ZRqLrkQTuSMbtY/s400/IMG_6872.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAT0fvWiB1svLHSXg1kqccCfc_tKR5dwUg_u_C99XVPTWb8owTTbCORij_Id1gayrdCsSnpOUtw53-lF46gI3H1VFDlsLxzAaB-VDnERWKznkBddYbZbxQ9pNoElxXv2d4jQ4PfZz6_i0/s1600/IMG_0331.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAT0fvWiB1svLHSXg1kqccCfc_tKR5dwUg_u_C99XVPTWb8owTTbCORij_Id1gayrdCsSnpOUtw53-lF46gI3H1VFDlsLxzAaB-VDnERWKznkBddYbZbxQ9pNoElxXv2d4jQ4PfZz6_i0/s400/IMG_0331.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />-Beth-http://www.blogger.com/profile/04084765790601870793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5445925658227624308.post-39166400275918037422015-08-21T07:00:00.000-05:002015-08-21T07:00:11.234-05:00Happy 3rd.<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><span style="background-color: white;">For some reason I feel closer to you when I'm here.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">Not just because we brought your ashes here, but more so because the waves seem to drown out the noise of life.</span></i></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>They wash away the worries and busyness and bring me clearness of mind. I can set my eyes on heaven. On Him - the finisher of my faith. With whom you dwell.</i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">I came here when I was broken. And I feel like this is the place where I began healing. </span></i></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>I walked till I couldn't anymore. </i></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>I rode in the rain and my tears and the rain became one. </i></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>I sat in silence and let my thoughts and questions as numerous as the stars run wild. </i></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>I clung to your daddy and found great peace with him. </i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><span style="background-color: white;">I heard the fatherly voice of God promise me I was going to make it... Promise me I could go home and be a mom and a wife and a daughter and a friend again.</span><br style="background-color: white;" />Promise me He is good and His love endures.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>I miss you as much as the day you left and I celebrate you as much as the first time I laid eyes on you. I see you in everyday life. In the eyes of your new sister. In the sound of her squeal. In your little blonde hair buddies here on earth. In the way your siblings remember you. </i></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>I miss you fiercely and work each day to hold on to the memories I have that sometimes seem ancient already. I dusted off your picture on my nightstand the other day and whispered, "I love you," wondering if I should say it more. If my soul needed to utter those words aloud more often to feel the gravity of it all. </i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>I can't believe you are 3 today. How could the 3 months we had together suddenly vanish into 3 years?<br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">Your brother told me</span><span style="background-color: white;"> last night as we stood in the sand that he was worried because babies couldn't take care of themselves and you'd be in heaven without me to take care of you. I assured him you have the ultimate keeper... holding your hand and heart. And mine as well.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br />I have this picture in my mind of you running into my arms the day we meet again. Similar to when your brother and sister have been away from me for a bit. They run to my arms with glee and delight. I hold onto hope of that day with you. Until then my little love... </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Happy 3rd Birthday.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>You are so loved.</i></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiRXUnEVZprMxWlcsooFVf8F5_VAWOaSMDsYdipPPrsyQYbsRqUP-g3r9zQhcaa3ZJifkEsN99bWw3nGMb6RAVQa0OAgUSqRHUcojgj8jmT4Kro1WhXkxroUDULvIV3qq1C8gB8BwOEVI/s1600/IMG_9747.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiRXUnEVZprMxWlcsooFVf8F5_VAWOaSMDsYdipPPrsyQYbsRqUP-g3r9zQhcaa3ZJifkEsN99bWw3nGMb6RAVQa0OAgUSqRHUcojgj8jmT4Kro1WhXkxroUDULvIV3qq1C8gB8BwOEVI/s640/IMG_9747.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br style="background-color: white;" /><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><br /></span>-Beth-http://www.blogger.com/profile/04084765790601870793noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5445925658227624308.post-68726778625704111062015-04-23T10:49:00.000-05:002015-04-23T10:57:24.591-05:00Super Stella<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Yesterday I drove my sweet perfectly-perfect 6 month old baby girl to Dell Children's Hospital. The same route I knew all too well. I was mad... at life, the devil, our earthly bodies. Just mad. I wanted to be sad and I wanted to be mournful of the days I was there with Gibson, but I just kept thinking I shouldn't be taking her here. This isn't how the story goes...</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Monday morning we went into Stella's 6 month well-check at the pediatrician. She's the epitome of a healthy bouncing baby girl- 'The Gerber Baby,' as she's referred to by multiple strangers a day. I can't even begin to write how God has poured love over my heart and is healing all the little broken and shattered pieces in the past 6 month through this child (that's a whole other blog!)</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Her well check went like most do: weigh, measure, do some tricks for the nurses...</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">The doctor began to look at the dreaded growth chart. Then she looked at Stella's head. On the chart Stella's head had jumped in size pretty rapidly. In the past two months she'd gone up a good percentage and was now well above 100 percentile compared to her weight & height both around average at 50 percentile. The doctor examined my baby's beautiful round (perfect but large ) head and I could see the concern growing. She rubbed on her soft spot on the top of her head and explained that it seemed to be protruding a bit. And like a ton of brick - or something much worse she said, "I'd like for you to take her to have a cranial ultra-sound done. I want to make sure there's no fluid in the ventricles of the brain." She said it as if she didn't want to give me too much unnecessary knowledge yet. Little did she know there was wayyyyy more knowledge there than I'd ever hoped to have about hydrocephalus.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Keep in mind our pediatrician knows about Gibson, but had NO knowledge of <i>his</i> issues.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">I was standing holding Stella at the time and I could feel it welling up in me. I slowly and quietly said, "I'm really trying not to panic here, but that was the first thing they found wrong with our baby boy that we lost." At this point I think I rambled on about how they'd checked Stella's brain every 4 weeks in utero, this couldn't be, they found no genetic link...</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">I left the appointment like the cool, calm, collected mom I was supposed to be. Except I had an order in my hand to go have something I never expected tested on my baby girl. I sat in my car crying, so confused and afraid to even ask God why... again. I know the 'why' is never answered here.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">So we made our appointment at Dell. The dread of going there and the anxiety of what could be revealed filled me for the next two days.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">We prayed hard.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">I fell asleep both nights with my hand on my baby's head and my heart and stomach in knots.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">I didn't really want to tell it to the world (or broadcast to the social media world) until we had more details.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">A sweet friend prayed the exact words I needed Monday afternoon on the phone for me: <b>She said, "God I pray that you silence the lies."</b></span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">I clung to that, knowing that my God is a redeemer, he has been faithful and He IS good. No matter what He would be good.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">But if I'm being completely honest, as I drove to the appointment yesterday I said, God I don't WANT to be brave right now, I'm tired of being STRONG. I really just want to enjoy my healthy baby girl.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">I found my place and sat in the car. Afraid to pray. Afraid to get out. The last thing I said was, "God, you have control over this sweet baby's brain. And devil, you have no place here. You've messed with the wrong momma, AGAIN."</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">The scan was quick and fairly simple. Since her soft spot is still open they were able to do it via ultrasound instead of an MRI/CAT scan. Stella laid there cooing sweetly. It was less than 10 minutes and I KNEW they did not measure any pockets of fluid. I've seen what it looks like, I've seen the zoom in and measure bit, the confused technician, the look of worry masked with a comforting smile. I've been there when they went to get multiple backup technicians to hopefully see something different.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">She simply said, "The doctor will call you, I don't see anything of concern." I said, "You didn't measure any fluid did you???" And she said, "No."</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #222222;">In the afternoon we got the call from the doctor that everything was </span><b style="color: #222222;">PERFECTLY NORMAL</b><span style="color: #222222;">. There was NO fluid in her ventricles.</span></span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">We are praising Jesus and thankful again for each moment we have with these healthy babies.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">I'm still not sure what the point of all of this this week was. I'm not sure why the devil had a chance to scare me again or make our heart doubt for one minute God's faithfulness. But if anything it proved His goodness even more. He silenced the lies. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: large;"><b><i>As the song says, "You drown my fear in perfect love."</i></b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><b>And we will rejoice in that with our sweet Super Stella.</b></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvblCLmWcD21ekJoBq2QqSAtxIRjd226DofW9FJbpohuXPpoZuVlhwKYLU6VChUVmMtqU7c0cyEU3qfeWscquWF6ukWt0Hkgz00vCMmK_mMdTisEK2bIRd-WcHxR7Nf2yr-k53D8JYfhI/s1600/FullSizeRender+(3).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvblCLmWcD21ekJoBq2QqSAtxIRjd226DofW9FJbpohuXPpoZuVlhwKYLU6VChUVmMtqU7c0cyEU3qfeWscquWF6ukWt0Hkgz00vCMmK_mMdTisEK2bIRd-WcHxR7Nf2yr-k53D8JYfhI/s1600/FullSizeRender+(3).jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Q8Xbjw3HbDd8HTLjsltpmxJPkYP28c9KdjAI21OTHGPzkviFwAI29HuXqsgzn099SfV0afc8u7SyibHXBhHub5Tx0RZoi2x_PVt0znbjqNmmNeoeuaHyA7996JNDSzt20paMnUjGQhc/s1600/IMG_7513.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Q8Xbjw3HbDd8HTLjsltpmxJPkYP28c9KdjAI21OTHGPzkviFwAI29HuXqsgzn099SfV0afc8u7SyibHXBhHub5Tx0RZoi2x_PVt0znbjqNmmNeoeuaHyA7996JNDSzt20paMnUjGQhc/s1600/IMG_7513.JPG" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><br /></span></span>-Beth-http://www.blogger.com/profile/04084765790601870793noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5445925658227624308.post-4003113768561468702015-03-10T21:20:00.000-05:002015-03-10T21:20:03.403-05:00Repent & be baptized because we are all in this together.<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It was 11:05. Church started in exactly 10 mins. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">Considering it would take at <i>very</i> least 12 mins to get there if it weren't raining and I weren't standing in my pajamas with crazy hair, we were already going to be late. Daniel was already there and I was home- left in the battle of getting somewhere at a certain time with these 3 unpredictable and needy little people. And for some reason the oldest is usually my biggest battle.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">I looked at my phone. I looked in the mirror. Should we just not go?!? </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">I have to make a decision... </span><span style="background-color: white;">Quick.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">We'll go. It's harder to stay here sometimes I thought. And so it began...</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">"Y'all! Get your shoes on! Ryder, when you're done go put Rocky up! Paisley, come help me with Stella!" Ryder appears, (clearly the battle has begun) "Can I record Star Wars Rebel?" "No, turn it off, put your shoes on! Do what I asked." </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">Ryder appears again. Shoes on. Laces hanging everywhere. I snap, "You can't go like that! Fix your shoes!" "I can't," he says, "I don't know how to tie my shoes." (I know, I'm a horrible mom.) He flops in front of me as I leaned down to tie them. "SIT UP. How am I supposed to fix them when you flop like a toddler?!? Ugh, your breath smells awful, did you brush your teeth like I said?? Go get your toothbrush and do it down here so I can watch!" The harsh words continue to fly off my tongue... "Why can't you act like the almost 7 yr old you are?? Why do you do this to ME on Sundays?!? We should just stay here and take naps!" My voice gets louder. Stella cries on the bed... I throw my clothes on. Of course nothing fits. I've gotta get to the gym I think. Dang it, why did I eat that kolache for breakfast?!? I need a salad for lunch... We've gotta get to church, so we can go to lunch...</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">Minutes pass. He's still brushing his teeth, sobbing with each breath. More bitter words fly. (Why can't he cooperate?!???)</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">We all somehow get dressed and head to the door and then I hear it in my heart...</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">"Repent to your son. Make the time. Choose what matters."</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">I send paisley in the rain to the car. I set Stella down and kneel down in front of him. "Buddy, I'm sorry I got upset with you. I really am. Can you forgive mommy?" I can see the relief wash over his little fair face. "Yes, mam," he says sweetly, (now he uses manners of course to twist the knife in my heart a little more).</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">We get in the car at 11:20. We're 5 mins late already and we've still gotta get there.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">We get almost to church and Ryder says, "Mommy, can I go in big church with you?" (The social butterfly that he is never asks for that. Ever.) "Sure, wanna stay for worship and then go to your class?" Thinking well at least I'll get to go in worship before dropping them off.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">We get there for the last couple songs of worship, including baptisms. People stood and sang, and cheered for the baptisms. As I sat in the back row, arms around my now calm children I leaned over and ask Ryder, "Do you know what they're doing?" I knew he did, but I wanted to ask what he was thinking in the moment. He said confidently, "They're getting baptized." I said, "Do you understand what that <i>means</i>?" Without missing a beat, in the most calm & confident voice he said,</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">"It means they've met God."</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">Clearly I had no more words. I'd used them all just trying to get there. But some how, just <b><i>somehow</i></b> God's mercy had been poured out anyway and redeemed what seemed doomed as another awful Sunday morning getting to church.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">We held each other close and sang, "For the Lord is good and His love endures, yes, the Lord is good forever..."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">Last Wednesday I sat at a table with some moms and we discussed our biggest fears as moms, our personal pitfalls, the words we wished we hadn't said, our daily, "mom fails." The constant fear of ruining our children is prevalent and ever weighing on our hearts. But as I looked at these moms around me (each one I would confidently say is an AMAZING mom in every sense of the word!) I realized we all mess up ROYALLY. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We just do. That's it. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We're stressed out, exhausted, over-caffeinated humans that most of the time feel like a food-source, taxi, maid, life coach to irrational beings we created. But somehow if we continue to meet with God, He is faithful. And His mercy is real. And His love endures.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I started painting a sign for my entry way today that I've been wanting in my house for a while that says, "We are ALL in this TOGETHER." Because there are days I'll have to kneel in front of that sign in my entry and in front of my child and repent- and that's ok too. We're all in need of redemption.<br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">Take heart Mommas. Xoxo.</span></span>-Beth-http://www.blogger.com/profile/04084765790601870793noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5445925658227624308.post-84790004349094491792014-12-23T13:57:00.001-06:002014-12-23T13:57:45.972-06:00The Wonder of His Love<div style="text-align: center;">
Today while I was cleaning lipstick off crystal glasses in the kitchen, baby in the floor in her bouncer gazing at me, tree lights glistening in the background my Christmas pandora music took a slight detour and threw in just a hint of Great Is Thy Faithfulness. While wiping the last remnants of a sweet party with friends off the counter and floors I was reminded of that truth. He is so faithful. In the joy & the pain of the season.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Christmas is tricky with my emotions. Especially this year for me. The season is filled with such hard memories. Such stark realities and thoughts run through my head while in the midst of celebrations. A couple weeks ago was the 2 year mark. 2 years since I stroked his sweet cheeks and kissed his head and wept as I said goodbye. However, this year has been such an amazing year of renewing. Amazing rebirth, amazing NEW memories. And how can I not give thanks? Yet how can I not grieve?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It's so weird to feel distinct pain and extreme joy simultaneously. On the 6th of December I mourned that loss all over again while gazing at my BEAUTIFUL new baby girl. Sunday we sang a song about heaven... tears streaming I could picture him and long for that day when I get to see him, but somehow I choose and WANT to be present with my babies now. And you know what? That's ok. God doesn't ever ask us not to grieve. He asks us not to grieve as those that do without hope. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i>Because we have a THRILL of HOPE. </i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
When He sent Jesus to be born in that manger God knew there would be pain ahead. That's the crux of it. There would be JOY in His birth, pain in His death, and HOPE in his resurrection. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I looked for a card this year that said "The Wonders of His Love." Because that's what we're in the midst of. It doesn't make sense. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">But that's the wonder of it all. </span> </i></b> </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Merry Christmas. May you feel that love this Christmas.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOoTlscRGvTZK-MGkMBdwz01ln_-9zsuhb_v76mTakv4BdHq30QWAHqeP-1Aqv5G2myxrM3jU-4m_2YkKlx9nBS4nmY99Zsf0GKWSJdE9rdVZrLqr06UsgTT_KTrXJgPWDQEviRw7xdwk/s1600/Beth+Allen+2014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOoTlscRGvTZK-MGkMBdwz01ln_-9zsuhb_v76mTakv4BdHq30QWAHqeP-1Aqv5G2myxrM3jU-4m_2YkKlx9nBS4nmY99Zsf0GKWSJdE9rdVZrLqr06UsgTT_KTrXJgPWDQEviRw7xdwk/s1600/Beth+Allen+2014.jpg" height="459" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />-Beth-http://www.blogger.com/profile/04084765790601870793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5445925658227624308.post-2410738933790101832014-10-29T21:07:00.000-05:002014-10-29T21:28:57.273-05:00Stella WrenShe's two weeks old today and I can't believe she's really in my arms. I sit and stare at her and watch her sleep for hours. It feels kind of like having my first all over again. I don't want to miss a thing and I don't want to set her down. I'm so grateful to have these sweet first moments with her at home. I said multiple times in the hospital when nurses would ask about our other kids and I'd tell them about G, "It's just made this that much sweeter."<br />
<br />
So before my mommy brain completely takes over I thought I'd write about the slightly unexpected and surprising 9 day early arrival of our little Stella Wren.<br />
<br />
My "due date" was Friday October 24th, I was scheduled for a c-section (due to it being my 4th c-section) on Friday, October 17th- a week early, so we really didn't think she'd make an entrance before then. There were other plans...<br />
<br />
I went to bed on Tuesday night, the 14th with big plans for the next day. We were two days out from baby day so I was going to get my oil changed, go to Costco & Trader Joes, get Ryder a hair cut, yadda yadda yadda... While getting ready for bed Tuesday night I said to Daniel, "I hope my water doesn't break in Costco! hahahaha. I bet I wouldn't be the first though." While going to sleep at about 11pm I SERIOUSLY thought how it's nice to have these things scheduled but there's something exciting about a baby coming on their own... but I wouldn't ever have that and that's ok. Can't wait to meet this baby.... zzzzzzzz.<br />
<br />
I woke up at 1:15am (thinking it was about 4 or 5). I rolled over in bed and it hit me - something wasn't right. As I stood up to get out of bed I realized my water had broken! I yelled at Daniel, "My water broke - and I'm NOT kidding!" He jumped up and ran around the bed and promptly knocked over the water on my night stand while grabbing my phone! I called my dad - who hung up on me the first time. I called the nurse line and waited for the Dr to call. I frantically called and texted friends and tried to figure out what to do with our sleeping kids! Before the Dr even called back my sweet friend Stephanie was at our door! And Daniel was cleaning toilets (seriously) and I was, well, still dealing with the broken water situation... I warned Stephanie as she came in she may never want to have kids! LOL. When asked later why he was cleaning toilets he said, "Well, it was on the list of things that needed to be done before the baby came Friday!" HAHA. Love my man.<br />
<br />
The on call Dr called and said come on in, but if I wanted my Dr to deliver (which I really did) we could try to hold off till morning. And that would give our family a little time as well. (And my friends to wake up and see that I was in labor!) My dad drove through the night, threatening to finally turn to coffee. Daniel's sister Rachel I'm pretty sure sped the whole way to Austin and everyone else planned their quick exit and headed this way.<br />
<br />
We got checked into the hospital before 3am and they got me all hooked up to monitor the baby and my contractions. Since I was having a c-section they didn't want to give me pain meds prematurely, so lucky me I got to really feel what laboring feels like for the next 6 hours. Something crazy was going on that night because they'd checked in two other moms set to have c-sections on that Friday and all the operating rooms were booked until 8am. So as long as I didn't progress too quickly that would be the time and my Dr would be there to do the surgery then. So we waited... (and contracted!)<br />
<br />
They got me all set for surgery. My IV had to be done 3 times and my spinal had to be done twice (!) but other than that things smoothly progressed and by about 9 it was show time! "Let's have a Birthday Party!" is what my Dr always says. <br />
<br />
Just before we went in I talked to the nurse about my past and the traumatic delivery I experienced the last time and expressed my desire to have the baby back with me as soon as possible. Usually after a c-section you see the baby (VERY briefly) then the baby is taken to the nursery where all the adoring family can look on and watch it get its first bath and meet the world and the mom is laying on the operating table and in the recovery room. The nurse said due to the construction in the hospital they'd started keeping the babies with the mom the whole time! I was thrilled and wanted to start crying then... I might have.<br />
<br />
The whole operation was everything and more than I'd prayed for. Everyone in the operating room was so excited that we were having a surprise. They told us they'd let dad announce the gender as soon as the doctor was ready. So the surgery began and a few short minutes later it was time. I heard my Dr say, "Ok, Dad..." Daniel stood up looked over and said, "It's a GIRL." I started crying immediately. She started crying that good strong fresh new born cry that was everything I longed to hear. The funniest part of this moment was that as soon as Daniel said that the Dr turned her over upside down and then Daniel said, "Or is it...??? Oh yeah, it's a girl" We'll have fun telling her that one day! ;)<br />
<br />
The nurses asked if I wanted them to immediately clean her off or if I wanted to have her all ooey gooey. I said bring it on, I wanted her asap! So they brought her straight over to us and she was so beautiful even in the mess! She immediately quieted down when they put her next to my face. It was so sweet and surreal. I was almost worried because she got so calm. The nurse, seeing my concern said, "She's fine, I can see her breathing, she's just happy to be next to you." In a few minutes they took her over to clean her off and weigh her, I could hear all the nurses saying how beautiful she was. They told us she weighed 7 lbs 8 oz (more happy tears). Then they asked if I'd like to have skin to skin time with her while they finished the operation. Of course! (Again this was NOTHNG like any of my previous experiences!) So they laid her on my chest and we were in awe. She was completely alert and aware, wide-eyed and beautiful. It was one of the most precious moments of my life and I hope I never forget it...<br />
<br />
<b>We were in love.</b><br />
<br />
They moved us to a recovery room for a while and agreed to let in anxious visitors one by one for the next couple hours, even allowing the kids to come in to meet her. Daniel had gone out and told the party we'd had a girl. Ryder really had his heart set on a boy, but the moment he saw her <b><i>she</i></b> had his heart. <br />
<br />
We took a few hours getting to know her and looking at her before deciding on a name. Of course we had a list of a few for each gender, but really weren't certain, going back and forth in the days leading up to it. <br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i>Stella</i></b> meaning "Star" had been our first girl choice for a while and it seemed fitting. I blogged a good while back about how you can see stars brighter in the dark and was reminded this week of that thought while gazing at little Stella. God has truly sent her to shine brightly in our lives and we are so grateful for that light. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i>Wren</i></b> is an English name for "the little song bird." The Druids called it the "prophetic bird," and the early Irish considered it the "magical bird." </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
We've had a good couple weeks getting to know her. She's sweet and snuggly. She already smiles, and she loves her crazy siblings. She sleeps... maybe a good bit in my arms and eats well and is gaining weight. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Thank you to everyone for your love, prayers, kind words, support and HELP during this pregnancy, delivery, recovery, and now the adjusting to new life. We are extremely blessed for sure.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I'm so excited to see how this little one fits into (and changes!) our little family.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Stella Wren we're so happy you're here, love.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihfOnljqKFbL4-ZTJIWj0pAf4sv0EG0QodYmri7xUyDMrTqPuraLNC5XwHYXsf-ggoZk7e8pnweMqvt67GcjymxzGPfqJEq48lRmi7rdcirxPHow_Y4kexL1X_KqjkXX6s-fWB-ukKnGM/s1600/unnamed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihfOnljqKFbL4-ZTJIWj0pAf4sv0EG0QodYmri7xUyDMrTqPuraLNC5XwHYXsf-ggoZk7e8pnweMqvt67GcjymxzGPfqJEq48lRmi7rdcirxPHow_Y4kexL1X_KqjkXX6s-fWB-ukKnGM/s1600/unnamed.jpg" height="640" width="456" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
-Beth-http://www.blogger.com/profile/04084765790601870793noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5445925658227624308.post-42161550003279955922014-09-26T17:25:00.000-05:002014-09-26T18:48:27.121-05:00Fall re-do: RENEWYesterday afternoon while looking at the calendar on the fridge I said to the kids, "I can not WAIT to change this to OCTOBER! You know what comes in October?!?" Paisley said, "FALL!" and Ryder said, "BABY!" And I said, "YES!" Then we went on to all do a 'baby dance' and I went on to say something about how we get to bring the baby home in a few weeks. Ryder immediately interrupted and said, "Well, maybe... unless..." At which point I stopped him. I knew what he was going to say and his innocent heart only knows what it knows, but my hopeful, emotional (basket case of a very pregnant heart) couldn't handle hearing it. Sometimes it's just plain hard to believe what you haven't seen (or can't remember in his case!)<br />
<br />
<b><i>Have you ever asked God for a do-over a re-do?</i></b><br />
<br />
The months after Gibson was born (this same time of year 2 years ago) I would walk in and out of the hospital multiple times a day. Usually rushing after dropping kids somewhere or heading to pick them up, on the phone giving Daniel and family updates- tired, drained, heartbroken and insecure all bottled up into one. But one of the most excruciating things was that the entrance you have to go in as you head to the NICU is the same entrance that moms go home with their new (healthy!) babies. You know, the happy, tired, blissful, starry-eyed moms. It goes like this: the dad drives up in the mini-van or SUV of choice, he anxiously hops out surveying his crooked parking job in the circle drive. He then pops around the car and checks the carseat base for the 50th time just to make sure it hasn't magically come unlatched (you know because those things are <i>SO</i> easy to undo). The nurse wheels out the the mom & baby and all their gifts & junk from the past few days - flowers, balloons, boppys, blankets and more. The mom gets in the back with the baby, of course. They check the carseat... again (it might have come unlatched...), nurses give hugs and smiles and the mom and dad sit in the car for several minutes contemplating how they're going to possibly drive their precious new cargo home.<br />
<br />
And I walk on by. I think about the day we left the hospital and him in the NICU. The anxiety of it. The panic attacks as I laid in bed at home without him near me. I think about the fact that I want a <b><i>do-over</i></b>. <br />
<br />
We planned G would be our last. 3 was our number, he was it. I'd never have another do-over of the happy hospital experience and I'd never leave like those moms. I clung to the moment I'd finally leave the NICU with him and NEVER EVER come back. But it didn't happen that way... I went home months later on a dark December night, just Daniel and I, empty-armed, brokenhearted and hurting, walking to the car alone trying to figure out what to do next. And Gibson got to go home whole and healed, in a much grander way, to a much more glorious place.<br />
<br />
<br />
I didn't ask God for a re-do for a very long time. I've mentioned in previous blogs it took my heart a while to get there. And once we learned of our new blessing I chose (and still do choose) not to see this baby as a replacement, but as an <b><i>addition</i></b> to our family. I quickly correct if someone calls this my "third." ;) Yet, I've thought many times about those days walking in and out of the hospital, those nights alone in our hospital room and our bedroom at home. <br />
<br />
What I <b><i>have</i></b> asked God for was to RENEW. To renew my heart, mind, spirit, JOY & HOPE. Sometimes we want the easier solution and that seems like a Re-Do. If we could just not remember our pain or mistakes or tragedies life would be so much easier. Would it? I truly believe with all my heart God reaches down and pulls us through the muck and mire of life and he does not intend for us to forget what we've come through. He intends for it to grow us and change us and those around us no matter what the outcome. And yet He is so gracious to renew us and renew LIFE in us. <br />
<br />
And it all somehow makes that renewing that much sweeter.<br />
<br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;">But those who HOPE in the LORD will RENEW their strength... Isaiah 40:31</span> </span></b></i><br />
<br />
I've obviously thought about my hospital stay this time, but hadn't convinced my heart it would happen yet. A couple weeks ago I passed the "Gibson mark" of 32 weeks. I thought about his size and his health and prayed this baby would keep growing and developing. I hadn't been into the specialist in 6 weeks (the longest I've gone this pregnancy) so I wasn't exactly sure where we were at this point growth-wise. As we looked at the sweet CHUBBY cheeks on the screen that day the sonographer told us the baby was weighing in at 5 pounds 8 ounces with (hopefully!) 5 weeks to go.<br />
<br />
This week I bought diapers. Seems like a simple enough, normal step at this point. But actually setting that little bag of pampers newborn swaddlers in my cart took a lot of courage and a lot of faith. The last time I had diapers in my cart was a day I'd like to forget. They'd been stacked in my laundry room, I couldn't deal with them and didn't want my family to have to either, so the week after Gibson died my girlfriends loaded them all up - teary eyed & brave to target we went. There was a fiasco with the registry system and the poor workers were baffled with what to do and had to re-explain the situation every time a new worker came over (thus the puppy dog sad face looks to the grieving mom & her friends...) That day I probably would have said I'd like to never see a diaper package again. But I happily set them in my cart this week. And much to the urging of said girlfriends I started packing a hospital bag as well. Because... it's REALLY happening. <br />
<br />
God is renewing.<br />
<br />
This morning with 3 weeks to go the doctor said everything looks great. Baby should hopefully stay snug and happy in there till October 17th. <br />
<br />
After the doctor Paisley and I went to Trader Joe's and bought up all the pumpkin stuff in sight. Because you know what's coming this month? FALL... & BABY! <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9lO2QpbdUAH2V_F5hnxz-LLufPIiiXUbK6_OgpuAmCEgZ5UnCoV5XqHZx2FzUjBYhnnfSfV-rsMiBb-Tgz-u7u2mv5fZaMBlBYFOueLMqIpED0QaTvVUrVamYpKJGAuEnsmaISak_QpQ/s1600/il_fullxfull.647841731_bx06.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9lO2QpbdUAH2V_F5hnxz-LLufPIiiXUbK6_OgpuAmCEgZ5UnCoV5XqHZx2FzUjBYhnnfSfV-rsMiBb-Tgz-u7u2mv5fZaMBlBYFOueLMqIpED0QaTvVUrVamYpKJGAuEnsmaISak_QpQ/s1600/il_fullxfull.647841731_bx06.jpg" height="400" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />-Beth-http://www.blogger.com/profile/04084765790601870793noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5445925658227624308.post-47476582638335060612014-08-21T09:11:00.001-05:002014-08-21T10:16:09.982-05:00Glad he was born.<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><i>Through it all, through it all, my eyes are on You. Through it all, through it all <b>it is well</b>. Through it all through it all, my eyes are on You <b>and it is well... with me</b>.</i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">I sat on the shore a few weeks ago, feet in the sand, swelling belly wiggling with new life below, watching the tide come and go. The same ocean we'd brought his ashes to a year and a half ago... those lyrics wandering through my mind.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;">The kids jumped and squealed with delight in the waves, the sun shining brightly on their faces. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;">The tide is a peculiar thing. It's constant and unchanging, yet wildly unpredictable. Kinda like grief. It washes in and out but you're never exactly sure its power until it hits you. And you're never quite certain what it may bring in with it or take back out to sea. Sometimes coming and going as quickly and quietly as he came into our lives and then left us.</span></span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">But there is One who knows. And only one who controls the turning of it.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">It was a hot sunny day, just like today. I left the kids with a sitter and went on my way. A few errands to run before my appointment. The weekend before I'd done a huge yearly party, so the house was in shambles but I'd have weeks to clean up and prepare for baby, so I thought. The night before I'd felt a weird sense of urgency and late that night I went out and bought Ryder school clothes and purchased a diaper bag I'd been eyeing.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">That hot day I wore a purple & gray tie dye looking skirt & a tank top and got a much needed pedicure. I then unassumingly went to the sonogram. It had been two weeks and the last visit was a good report. I laid on the table alone for 2 hours, texting Daniel that I was irritated these sonographers couldn't figure out what they were doing. They kept sending a different one in, each time leaving with a more confused face, until finally my Perinatologist came in. Calm yet worried she looked... and looked some more. She asked me a few questions that seemed out of the ordinary, but still I wasn't getting it. She sat me up, took my hand and told me I needed to deliver the baby. 12 hours she said. I had 12 hours and they were going to get steroids in me first. Well, that's not exactly how things proceeded and within 45 mins we were waiting to hear him cry... </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">No idea what the next months would hold. No idea what the next couple years would bring.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;">Sometimes I selfishly say I wish I could erase everything that happened. </span></span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: large;">But I don't mean it really. Then there are m</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #222222;">oment like Tuesday when we're standing in a store and Ryder exclaims loudly to the register girl, "My Mom's PREGNANT..." "I see," she says smiling, and then without warning here it comes, "We already had a baby, but he DIED." </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-size: large;">There were times during his pregnancy I begged God that if G wasn't going to make it to take him then because I didn't want to live through the after. But..</span></span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: large;">. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>I'm glad he was born.</i></b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i> </i></b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #222222;">I'm so thankful </span></span><span style="color: #222222; font-size: large;">for those moments and months we had that changed all of our lives. But sometimes the pain of walking through the after is harder than the joy of the moments gone. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I want to celebrate his life today because I'm so grateful God sent him to us. But sometimes the waves just want to bring in other feelings. And sometimes I've found I have to let go of my courage and feel them. God is angry too in those times. His heart is broken with mine. He's not looking away from me in my grief. He understands I truly wish I were holding him to celebrate his life today instead. But He knows I still trust that it truly <i>IS well</i>.</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #222222; font-size: large;">We'll celebrate as a </span><span style="color: #222222; font-size: large;">family tonight. We'll let balloons rise to the heavens. {We will not have a piñata as the kids requested-kids have the weirdest ideas sometimes!} But we will love each other a little bit more today and hold each other a little bit tighter. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>And we will be thankful that he was born.</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBxkr8vaygoT5RZq3yJPlA5XBf0Tp2Hb9srWI-R3RpE6rIbzIaoKzv5gMA16G-ceF328Cac-_k2sFDGfl0C2nwu4ToqqTRRqA2HQ1PFsrtWgDzakelTaM9ycSYel8Gb4Vf3tUEKrayzIg/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBxkr8vaygoT5RZq3yJPlA5XBf0Tp2Hb9srWI-R3RpE6rIbzIaoKzv5gMA16G-ceF328Cac-_k2sFDGfl0C2nwu4ToqqTRRqA2HQ1PFsrtWgDzakelTaM9ycSYel8Gb4Vf3tUEKrayzIg/s1600/photo.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Happy 2nd Birthday sweet Gibson. This momma misses you every second of every day.<b> </b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
-Beth-http://www.blogger.com/profile/04084765790601870793noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5445925658227624308.post-1946765434169671902014-05-28T15:56:00.000-05:002014-05-28T16:07:11.388-05:00Hesitant Hope. Yesterday morning I was in the kitchen when I heard Paisley coming down the stairs. Just about the time she got to the bottom I heard a crash... followed by sobs. I turned to see that she'd dropped one of her favorite treasures, a sweet little princess snow globe given to her by her favorite friend. I think she'd just found it since the move and was bringing it down to show me. As she stood there sobbing I knelt down and began to wipe up the glittery water running all over the tile. With each wipe she sobbed harder. I kept telling her it was ok, it wasn't her fault, stuff like this happens... As I began picking up the little shards of glass I saw the most gentle and kind picture of God picking up the little pieces of my brokeness. Broken hope, my broken heart, my broken me. <br />
<br />
I went over and sat with her on the couch and held her. She was literally limp in my arms. I gazed down at her sweet tears and again assured her it would be ok... I remembered what my friend Carrie said when Paisley opened that present containing the snow globe... She piped up over the chaos of the gift-opening at the birthday party and said, "Paisley, be careful with that, it's real glass and Finley's already broken hers!" I reminded Paisley of that moment... That her friend had done the same and she was not alone in this sorrow. <br />
<br />
Sunday morning at church I led a new song and the words came from John 16 so I was asked to read that and briefly say something to start the song. As I read it the part that stood out to me was not the main part the song came from, but what Jesus said right before...<br />
<i>"<b>In this world you WILL have tribulations</b>, but take heart I have overcome the world."</i> <br />
He didn't say IF. He said you WILL. Once again I'm reminded as I have been so much in the past year that God is not surprised by our heartbreak. He's not put off by my grief. He's there to pick the pieces up and hold me.<br />
<br />
A few weeks ago I laid on the table in the perinatologist office once again. This time 16 weeks along. The same office I sat in for hour upon hour two years ago as my world was changed forever. I laid there and held my breath. Literally. I held my breath as the sonographer began to measure blood flow in the baby's brain. It flashed in red and blue. We watched as the sweet little one twisted and shifted around within. I watched as they moved the image around in the dark caverns on the screen, slowly scanning the areas of the head over and over. I'd seen it before. <br />
But this time I wasn't naive. <br />
And if we're being completely honest, this time I was much <b><i>less</i></b> hopeful. I wanted to be. EVERY thing in me wanted to be hopeful that there would be only good news...<br />
that I was holding my snow globe completely intact and that it wouldn't fall and shatter into a million pieces again. But my soul knows the true pain of this life.<br />
<br />
When we found out we were pregnant this time we just kinda sat and stared at each other. There was a weird almost reverent mix of joy & fear. It wasn't like I wanted to run out and tell the world this time, even though there was so much joy in this news. I'd finally gotten myself to the place of trusting that it was even possible. Even though I'd been told by doctors it was possible to have a healthy baby over a year ago I hadn't convinced my heart of that quite yet. And maybe I still haven't completely. <br />
So, grateful for this new life within, but fearful of the road ahead we began the journey again... With <b><i>hesitant hope</i></b>.<br />
<br />
There we sat waiting for the doctor to come in and give us the report. Paisley played in the floor completely carefree and unaware of the tension in the room. But Daniel and I sat silently. The doctor came in a few minutes later.<br />
<br />
The last time I saw her I was clinging to her chest crying as she'd just told me I would deliver immediately and that she didn't know if he'd be ok...<br />
<br />
She sat in front of us explaining the blood flow they were measuring. At the end I finally just blurted out, "Is there fluid in the brain?" "No," she said, "Not at all." I could breath again. She went on to tell us that everything looked good at this point. We would continue to come in for check-ups each month.<br />
<br />
So we carry on with hope. Maybe hesitant hope, but hope that I will hold onto my snow globe. And in the end hold this sweet healthy baby. But I do now know more than ever that trials will come, but take heart, God is faithful. <br />
And unlike anything I could do for Paisley's treasure, He pieces the shattered parts back together and makes them complete and new. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0X8iG4cwT7s4deY2tKdICSA25lWoeQxHajXwYAuZ8XldIJ_J5Tgxo2E5m4GzKw-c_za72RSUPrhpxhru-HoWvaMFvqtv3vuQJ2yXx_As7-aOxUbLiWtiwPchyphenhyphenDZfFtNRKbtNsJr2_QFo/s1600/10330273_10152411714777082_8698049392561172707_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0X8iG4cwT7s4deY2tKdICSA25lWoeQxHajXwYAuZ8XldIJ_J5Tgxo2E5m4GzKw-c_za72RSUPrhpxhru-HoWvaMFvqtv3vuQJ2yXx_As7-aOxUbLiWtiwPchyphenhyphenDZfFtNRKbtNsJr2_QFo/s1600/10330273_10152411714777082_8698049392561172707_n.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />-Beth-http://www.blogger.com/profile/04084765790601870793noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5445925658227624308.post-1788528901819254232014-04-03T21:48:00.001-05:002014-04-03T22:01:50.149-05:00Turning SIX.Our sweet first born is turning 6 today!!! How could that be possible? <br />
<br />
We've been in our new house for about 10 days and last night after he went to bed I lined the stairway with streamers & balloons. The grin on his face this morning was priceless. <br />
<br />
Sunday I took him to a friend's birthday party after church so I had a little one on one time with him, which is rare these busy kindergarten days. We sat and ate lunch at La Madeline and I stared across the table at his cute shaggy headed, wiggly tooth, bruised & scratched up little self. If there's one thing I know for certain about the little guy is that he will make an amazing husband one day. He thinks and worries about who he's going to marry, when he's going to get married and where he will live with his children more than any kid I've ever known. He looked up at me sweetly and said, "So Mommy, are you having a good date? What do you wanna talk about?" I laughed and told him he was the second best date ever. <br />
<br />
After we went to the birthday party we were driving home, it was a beautiful day, Ryder was quiet (again - rare!) and I was just thinking how lucky I was to be driving to our new home. Suddenly he broke the silence and pierced my heart out of nowhere, "Did they try every medicine in the world?" My heart sunk and I thought for a moment. Assuming I hadn't heard him he said, "On Gibson, Did they try every medicine in the whole wide world?" "Yes," I said, "They did everything they could for him." He paused for a moment then said, "So then what was really the problem?" <br />
<br />
An inquisitive six year old has questions. Hard questions. That rip off scars you think are healing while warming your soul at the same exact moment. Because as much as I didn't want to have that little conversation at that very moment, it told my heart that his little tender heart was staring out the window on that sunny day thinking of his brother. <br />
<br />
I wrote a blog almost exaclty 2 years ago called <a href="http://danielandbeth.blogspot.com/2012/03/celebrate-life.html" target="_blank">Celebrate Life</a>. It was a little before Ryder's birthday and although it was not public knowledge at the time I was pregnant with Gibson. And the party I was helping out on that weekend was for a friend who had walked a similar path as I was unknowingly about to embark upon. The blog was nothing fancy, just about parties and why I like to do them and the importance (that I knew little about at the time) of celebrating life. <br />
<br />
This morning after he walked down the stairs we gathered around him for donuts & presents. I took him to school and reminisced in the car about how he was THE cutest baby I'd ever laid eyes on - squishy, round, smiley and adorable in every way. (That was before he could talk back, sass me & drive me completely bananas!!!) As I drove home I thanked God for SIX healthy years!!! Something in me ached as it always does on days like this. That haunting thought of never celebrating a 6th birthday with G. That question of what he would be like at 6. Sometimes I watch moms with healthy little babies running around and something in me cries, "DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA what a miracle they are?!?" Seriously, it is a miracle they grow inside of us and overcome everything they do and thrive and grow. It truly is.<br />
<br />
I'm just once again reminded they are ours on loan. They are truly HIS. A gift... and one worth celebrating.<br />
<br />
We celebrated all day and tonight Ryder said, "Mom, I'm gonna remember this day for-EVER."<br />
<br />
Me too, buddy.<br />
<br />-Beth-http://www.blogger.com/profile/04084765790601870793noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5445925658227624308.post-13761066125035328432014-03-14T16:19:00.001-05:002014-03-14T16:19:40.288-05:00Exciting home videoWe are on the final countdown of moving into our new home! It's been an interesting few months but we've ALMOST made it. We are set to close next Friday (fingers crossed!!!!)<br />
The kids made this little video of our house last week that we're excited to share.<br />
Make sure and watch till the end...<br />
<br />
<a href="http://vimeo.com/88520736">http://vimeo.com/88520736</a><br />
<br />
That's right!!!!!!!!! :)<br />
<br />
Thanks for all you love & prayers as we anxiously but gratefully enter this new season.<br />
<br />-Beth-http://www.blogger.com/profile/04084765790601870793noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5445925658227624308.post-66070205262840585422014-01-31T11:43:00.000-06:002014-01-31T11:43:28.889-06:00Do angels have shovels; Guilty as charged.<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Yesterday I sat outside Paisley's dance class listening to a conversation between two moms who do not know me, my life, or my story. Completely unaware of the words coming out of their mouths with me sitting a couple feet away floods of guilt covered my soul once again.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">I don't even know who they were talking ab but their story resolved with the tough decisions at the sudden end of a life. The moments of deciding that's all their loved one could take, that's all they could take or allow their family to bear. The decisions to have family there or not. The decisions that come flying in your face faster than life could possibly prepare you for. Things that get dealt to you that seem so far beyond your means... Too fast to brace yourself for the fall. The frantic calls, the anxious breaths. I could feel it in my lungs again as I heard the unassuming words seep from their lips. I heard sniffling. And I feel the wailing deep in my loins.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><b>The guilt of each move I made that night attempts to haunt me. Will it ever not?</b></span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">I've sworn to myself I will write in detail every single thing I remember about that night. Every time I try I fail and curl up in a ball. Just as I did that night.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">I know that I know that I know God is sovereign and powerful and in control far beyond anything I will possibly hear, see or learn in this life, but does that ever prevent us from seeking some sort of revelation or asking the hard questions to our grieving, guilt-filled hearts? Will it ever satisfy?</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">As they continued to talk, a pregnant woman sat just seats over from me with her hand sweetly resting on her belly. A baby sat on the floor gazing at his mother and the moments of that night flash before the eyes of my soul. Moments I long to remember each detail of- the shape of his face and scent of his skin... but how so selfishly I wish I could permanently erase it from time. Moments I hope to never re-live but some how pray I don't loose what they have sewn in the depths of me.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">This week I mentioned guilt to a friend and she stopped me and said, "What do you mean, you deal with guilt??" It seems easy to me too. If only it weren't my story. Of course it wasn't my fault. Doctors told me over and over nothing I could ever possibly have done caused the problems he had. Nothing I could have done could change how things progressed or how things ran their course...how life was slowly ripped from his grip. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #222222;">But do I believe that? If it were only that easy. This is the rub.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">As a mother you long for, strive for, fight tooth and nail for your child. To protect them, to guard them, to nurture them. They take one step off the sidewalk- you jump with all your might. They get a cold- you worry what you exposed them to. They have an accident and you think of all the ways <b><i>you </i></b>could have prevented it.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">The weeks after Gibson's death this indescribable guilt washed over me in waves. Maybe more like a tsunami. I never saw it coming, never heard the quake and suddenly I was drowning in it. What did I do wrong? What did I do during my pregnancy? What did I do to deliver early? How did <b><i>I</i></b> cause all the problems? What decisions of the thousands I made regarding his care were wrong? What more could <b><i>I</i></b> have done?</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">That night. That awful night.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;">Was I wrong to guard the hearts of the ones I loved, the ones that so loved him? Was I wrong to want to run away? Such fast and hard decisions we had to make while our hearts were in a state of shock. Did we make the right choices? </span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And then in the months following a new guilt rolled in...</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Last weekend I was sick with the stomach bug and I got caught up on my favorite show Downton. During this awful episode there was a quote that cut me to the core. Isobel Crawley, Mathews mother, said this, </span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>"But you see I have this feeling that when I laugh or read a book or hum a tune it means that I've forgotten him for just a moment. And it's that that I can't bear."</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">That's the guilt of it. We move on and lives move on but with that comes guilt. Daniel's birthday is tomorrow. Last year he turned 30 and I wanted to celebrate. It seemed weird to be able to celebrate anything 2 months after life had stood still. Love, laughter, friends and <b><i>life</i></b> filled the lonely grief-stricken walls of our house and it was reviving, yet followed with a tinge of guilt. For a while <b>every good moment</b> was such a blessing and such a confusing ball of tightly wound <b>guilt</b>. </span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>The guilt of enjoying life with these sweet ones I've been entrusted with but longing to be with the one gone before...</b></span></div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Usually people struggle with guilt <i>from</i> a sin. So what if it is not from a sin? Can guilt itself be a sin? I wouldn't go that far. But I would firmly say that it can lead to destruction.</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-style: italic; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Psalms 103:2-4, "Bless the LORD, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits: Who forgiveth all thine iniquities; who healeth all thy diseases; <b>Who redeemeth thy life from destruction</b>; who crowneth thee with lovingkindness and tender mercies;"</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-style: italic; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>I repeat those words in my head. His plans are to prosper and not to harm me... I am to walk in full knowledge of and with Christ, it is for <i>freedom</i> Christ has set me free, old things passed away... all things new... </b><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Philippines 3:13, "...this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are <b>before</b>."</span></i></div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This morning on the way to school Ryder and I had a funny conversation which I briefly referenced on Facebook. His timing is (<i>per normal</i>) priceless. And the whole way home I was dying inside with thoughts of the various things he could have walked in and told his teacher...</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He says out of no where, "Mommy, turn the music down (here we go...)" </span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>"Do angels have shovels?"</b></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">(UMMMM. What?!?) More calmly than that I ask what he meant as we are literally 45 seconds from pulling into the school.</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"You know, to take the bodies to heaven," he says very nonchalant.</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We continue in the rapid conversation of souls, new bodies - new HEALED bodies like Gibson has. I mention that bodies are just the earthly dwellings, they can be put in the ground... the ocean... He hops out of the car and I'm stumbling over my words, retracting the ocean comment knowing he has no clue what that means and thinking of all the things that could come from that! </span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He kisses me and says bye. Unfazed. With sweet belief he skips down the sidewalk.</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This guilt & grief stricken world is not my home. Heaven is near. And that's the glory of it all. Ryder's sweet faith-<b>filled</b>, believing heart is the relief from guilt and questioning for today. Thank you God for answering me each day in new ways...</span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; font-style: italic; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;">2 Corinthians ...we groan and are burdened, because we do not wish to be unclothed but to be clothed instead with our <b>heavenly dwelling</b>, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life.</span><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; font-style: italic; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;"> <span style="line-height: 14px;"><b> </b></span></span><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; font-style: italic; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;">Now the one who has <b>fashioned us for this very purpose</b> is God, who has given us the Spirit as a deposit, guaranteeing <b>what is to come</b>....</span></span></div>
<br />-Beth-http://www.blogger.com/profile/04084765790601870793noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5445925658227624308.post-81503215372570392732014-01-10T16:27:00.000-06:002014-01-10T16:27:04.152-06:00Kickball & Hobby Lobby<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div style="line-height: 24px;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I had big (kinda) goals for this week. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">If you read my last blog you know I was planning, setting a positive outlook, going into the new year counting blessings (in the voice of Gru from Despicable Me... Goodnight Sleep tight, blah blah blah... blah blah...)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So this week didn't exactly go like that. Figures.</span><br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 24px;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Ever been dead legged? Got the wind knocked out of you?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 24px;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I have a vivid memory in elementary school of playing kickball on the big asphalt circle. A few things come to mind... One, although I couldn't run (previously mentioned on blog!) I could however kick that kick ball- because let's be honest if you can just make contact with the huge round empty ball you can kick it pretty far, making every non-athletic 10 year old feel like a rockstar. That's the beauty of it. My other memory of kickball was my friend Candace's perm. She had beatiful blonde ombré hair -before that was even a thing, and the most magnificent perm I'd ever seen. (It was the 90s people!) It was a Monday and she'd had the perm done over the weekend. She was explaining how they did it, how long it took & how it smelled while all us girls stood awestruck. I wanted one. I can now firmly blame my curly hair on her because a couple years later I got that long awaited perm. However my long brown hair ended up looking like Kenny G and <i>NEVER</i> went to straight again. Totally serious. </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 24px;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So there we were standing around gazing at her golden locks when suddenly I was jolted back to the reality of the kickball game with one flying ball straight to the gut. It knocked the air completely out of me. </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 24px;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 24px;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">That's kinda how I felt this week - I was gazing into the new year and more like a few flying balls all in a row <span style="line-height: 24px;">knocked the air out of me. Life got messy... ugly. It knocked the thankfulness right out of me. </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 24px;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 24px;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Sunday I prepped meals & lunches. Monday I wrote thankyou notes & filled up my fancy new little planner. I started my new devotional all dreamy eyed and full of faith. I started a couple new party jobs and scheduled when I'd work out 5 days this week and {fantasized} how I wouldn't eat sugar. <i>None</i> (I repeat, none) of that worked out so well... Plans got messed up, goals got interrupted. Life around me snapped, things got ugly. Things pounded down on my soul just like the erratic weather on our house progress! Ryder (and half his class) got strep. I didnt get to do what I wanted (whah!) And I chose anger instead of gratitude. </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 24px;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 24px;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And then I went to hobby lobby.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 24px;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I've mentioned before how I frequent HL. In fact it's gotten so bad that autocorrect on my phone changes JK (as in just kidding) to HL for Hobby Lobby. For Real. I know hobby lobby is a good company with good morals (again blah blah blah...) but their workers couldn't give a rip and are unhappy, unhelpful & rude pretty much all the time. Except the fabric ladies. After 5 years of going to the same store I've finally woed them into at least a pleasant exchange of words each visit. I'm certain they know I really can't sew and I'm mainly bothering them for fabric I'm gonna glue, wrap or drape on something. Nonetheless they are sweet to me now. So I went in and saw Lois a sweet gray haired lady in her 70s. She's got just enough southern sap to deal with most people but just enough edge to scare off unwanted customers and keep me in the know of how to work the Hobby Lobby system. So I smile and ask how her Christmas was. Her demeanor shifted. Not so good she said. She went on to tell me how her 50 year old son had a third heart attack and had been in a comma for 3 weeks, with little brain activity, expected not to ever come out of it. {gulp}</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 24px;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">She told me how she'd spent 2 weeks by his bedside in Houston and there she was... back cutting my <strike>super important</strike> fabric. I was jolted back to the days I couldn't be by that hospital bedside and how my mind was constantly racing and consumed elsewhere. </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 24px;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I asked her what his name was and told her I would pray for him. That I was SO sorry. (The BEST thing you can say to prevent saying something stupid in this situation!!!) and I told her to hold on to hope. She said she knew all she could do was pray. And then she said she knew I understood grief & loss & she couldn't imagine & began to tear up...</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 24px;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<div style="line-height: 24px;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There I was. THAT was my New Years goal. To just <i>be</i>. When God wanted me to be- just be. What was important in the course of eternity? Not any of my other futile plans (or changes there of) this week. No, those didn't matter. But that sweet little lady cutting my insignificant fabric on this mundane morning needed to hear little ol' <b><i>me</i></b> say that there is hope & God is good. </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 24px;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 24px;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Because there is. <i><b>And He is</b>.</i></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 24px;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i><span style="line-height: 24px;">To bring a sacrifice of thanksgiving means to sacrifice our understanding of what is beneficial and thank God for everything because HE is benevolent. -Ann Voskamp</span></i></span><br />
<div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;">
<br /></div>
-Beth-http://www.blogger.com/profile/04084765790601870793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5445925658227624308.post-21488036946793240512014-01-01T23:30:00.001-06:002014-01-02T00:07:15.887-06:002013 Graces ::: 2014 Goals<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We saw much grace in 2013...</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">more than I could ever have imagined. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We faced the year head-on knowing there would be many tough days and now I can look back and say "You know what? We had a <i><b>surprisingly</b></i> great year."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So I thought I'd do a recap of some of the many graces we saw this year. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Daniel and I started the year with a trip away full of rejuvenation & healing. We purposed in our hearts we were going to focus on our kids, try new things and pouring into the people who'd poured into us for the past year. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>::: we discovered more and more of the love of Christ :::</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">More than I know how to possibly express. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I've talked about it a lot on here, but there's really no way to explain the nearness we've felt to God this year. God is real, heaven is near and some how this whole story has taken us there.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>::: we went deeper with friends & community :::</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Best thing ever. I love our friends so much. Our community group has been so great. Our church has been amazing. My girlfriends started the year somehow knowing what I needed before I knew myself. There were bad days where they cried with me, there were days they spurred me on, & there were days they celebrated the good with me. I am one thankful girl.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>::: i discovered a love for a few new things - painting, running & writing :::</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I may never be an expert or even good at any of these but God has brought me great purpose and used all 3 as extreme therapy!</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh020LUSWFKf5cJC4vyQItI2CqtKO8n7mftjshnY5E37McO96Ya3GscUKF9JMYTuyCHJEijxz-MIlhaOhazdgayKOxhVH-d-Sz3ED0Y0d8_y_-YW48ssogzpzyhtthVWMz7gfYq5e4Uhi8/s1600/164640_10151601172307082_84012151_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh020LUSWFKf5cJC4vyQItI2CqtKO8n7mftjshnY5E37McO96Ya3GscUKF9JMYTuyCHJEijxz-MIlhaOhazdgayKOxhVH-d-Sz3ED0Y0d8_y_-YW48ssogzpzyhtthVWMz7gfYq5e4Uhi8/s200/164640_10151601172307082_84012151_n.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsaFgx5tVvvUnwRkfSXdZYaXQJOYK7S9QdafMfhbJm86k2uSnzpn0Wcsq30KWp0xy5-s1Kmqo3Y88GdN9RryGggtmVYwMz98-e6xAdgEsYzXHQVAY_L6Lm2YTq2q8_aDgA_lZd_JwIAdU/s1600/1237044_10151848197027082_422650391_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsaFgx5tVvvUnwRkfSXdZYaXQJOYK7S9QdafMfhbJm86k2uSnzpn0Wcsq30KWp0xy5-s1Kmqo3Y88GdN9RryGggtmVYwMz98-e6xAdgEsYzXHQVAY_L6Lm2YTq2q8_aDgA_lZd_JwIAdU/s200/1237044_10151848197027082_422650391_n.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>::: ryder played tball :::</b></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqR6Q72b772hQG8ABcw-1b-qOsr4iHjIr1v77u_fOcvUkjkEsIdCZd87a-JxPaX1YA349LZUNtDbnxkXtCfruSYzFQLcD8g8WQX8rFhRAcpdZ3YevnvOJZHdMSoweuNi7yUEJLzacyntU/s1600/68528_10151600658737082_1273340313_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqR6Q72b772hQG8ABcw-1b-qOsr4iHjIr1v77u_fOcvUkjkEsIdCZd87a-JxPaX1YA349LZUNtDbnxkXtCfruSYzFQLcD8g8WQX8rFhRAcpdZ3YevnvOJZHdMSoweuNi7yUEJLzacyntU/s320/68528_10151600658737082_1273340313_n.jpg" width="213" /></span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>::: paisley started dance - and loves it :::</b></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl2V0Bj67NTHNIeGxuYJnDag38iAWndN2IcwNi7MIZ7aVjwhwgCBPcve_v1BDPb90rX9CnLqk_7xCtKtRLhxD9f3EsvD8IjkSvoOzjNXri2vabk1aZk_V5rIk2iPXCkITL-GRPQu6qsMg/s1600/969022_10151661725512082_1022459169_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl2V0Bj67NTHNIeGxuYJnDag38iAWndN2IcwNi7MIZ7aVjwhwgCBPcve_v1BDPb90rX9CnLqk_7xCtKtRLhxD9f3EsvD8IjkSvoOzjNXri2vabk1aZk_V5rIk2iPXCkITL-GRPQu6qsMg/s200/969022_10151661725512082_1022459169_n.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>::: our bills were PAID :::</b></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi1qiqOPlshljar2AOQT8fztGUGviCIJFuBk3_zReL6lTmIKGCyqDM5LC-pdnDZ8yfcBoYlDBtE1c0ZqMW71QPtguISKGKLIjuiT0slsyIzjqR5jc7li4bnx1qndepNEEAvyt-4cik25A/s1600/285205_10151510139312082_625128137_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi1qiqOPlshljar2AOQT8fztGUGviCIJFuBk3_zReL6lTmIKGCyqDM5LC-pdnDZ8yfcBoYlDBtE1c0ZqMW71QPtguISKGKLIjuiT0slsyIzjqR5jc7li4bnx1qndepNEEAvyt-4cik25A/s320/285205_10151510139312082_625128137_n.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Yes, that's right. All of G's hospital bills got paid. We will never EVER be able to truly express our gratitude to all who so selflessly & lovingly gave and made this happen. People gave and gave and gave... And they ALL. GOT. PAID! And somehow (by the grace of God) the largest bill that we were being charged as an "out-of-network" charge which would have added almost 30k to our already mounting bills was <b><u><i>pardoned</i></u></b>. All the sweet lady at Dell said to me on the phone that day was, "I've spoken to 'some people,' you will not be charged over what your insurance has paid for this one. Hope y'all are doing ok..." I really didn't believe it and thought for sure I'd receive another bill soon. To this day I get a knot in my stomach when I receive the mail! But we are so happy to say they're PAID. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">THANK YOU!!!!!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>::: we went on a safari :::</b></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYKst-rGuyo6J-jpSIS-HZbdm4cFkelvoa5OKJxoiCQmlhfFLdk6DKVek4vazq-_dlDTFPSBLkOR_SNTGGOTNHTm4HDt8MqOlb2xrq1W2G1EPqHziS_hURbb2SVz_1TjbjMvvXtMGQ-Yg/s1600/269805_10151747719462082_1511917567_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYKst-rGuyo6J-jpSIS-HZbdm4cFkelvoa5OKJxoiCQmlhfFLdk6DKVek4vazq-_dlDTFPSBLkOR_SNTGGOTNHTm4HDt8MqOlb2xrq1W2G1EPqHziS_hURbb2SVz_1TjbjMvvXtMGQ-Yg/s320/269805_10151747719462082_1511917567_n.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>::: we celebrated 10 years of marriage :::</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And I can say I'm more in love than ever after watching my husband stand like a ROCK for us this year.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJa0z8gnhlQ7eBo8_DkxI46KQ1I4wY6fDTdwheeGm7CrKNxGkgWfQcPd4R7byeiZcywkia7kOhAIjoVDYnIVPawjYT3xEIbD2VhoqBqUFH3Z7KP-gyrPZAmaOH1h-nBkiCSnWzJAFofZQ/s1600/389066_10151627992177082_296474833_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJa0z8gnhlQ7eBo8_DkxI46KQ1I4wY6fDTdwheeGm7CrKNxGkgWfQcPd4R7byeiZcywkia7kOhAIjoVDYnIVPawjYT3xEIbD2VhoqBqUFH3Z7KP-gyrPZAmaOH1h-nBkiCSnWzJAFofZQ/s200/389066_10151627992177082_296474833_n.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilDLPOFFMSym-gjaHLqfjUaLXpDDSePERq2-jweaLOyUTWMkRLYKrMIm68gQWlNJoY28gsJOQ8WWR0lERuZXhpme6tLGDTn_UaH5dAhm4ZMWg2c2vsD0hrcnWWzp7GTjPQ4OLNZ8M6LnE/s1600/945950_10151793147092082_192014434_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilDLPOFFMSym-gjaHLqfjUaLXpDDSePERq2-jweaLOyUTWMkRLYKrMIm68gQWlNJoY28gsJOQ8WWR0lERuZXhpme6tLGDTn_UaH5dAhm4ZMWg2c2vsD0hrcnWWzp7GTjPQ4OLNZ8M6LnE/s200/945950_10151793147092082_192014434_n.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiujTKF8IhjMMqqLi55NbN0BIyMEs_yEVeEW-vtyU5pSss9SkwMcpBIqOc5Ny0bnLzXSZzRojl_A7cNSPXjBhRw9jwgXJzNnIyfH1NnL0P5TsMVu0gs3I39z1T1e78s3ugFrYuC27sSJsQ/s1600/1385215_10151938373527082_1129338036_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiujTKF8IhjMMqqLi55NbN0BIyMEs_yEVeEW-vtyU5pSss9SkwMcpBIqOc5Ny0bnLzXSZzRojl_A7cNSPXjBhRw9jwgXJzNnIyfH1NnL0P5TsMVu0gs3I39z1T1e78s3ugFrYuC27sSJsQ/s200/1385215_10151938373527082_1129338036_n.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>::: we celebrated G's birthday :::</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">yes, celebrated. it was bittersweet but it was again, more than I could have imagined. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>::: ryder started kindergarten :::</b></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeCB5RqIv981uibrTm0C3Vo7ChtzUb3bbYsIuTUroBcjUiHHAnEe-VmWFuHdcFVrnopy1V5x-YAOsrVWJj3_Zl6hKDTBiH1c6zJPUGg5HFP201TJzTG7Ny82DS0eMqqP9C7efgqb_R4s4/s1600/1185393_10151852614862082_1417707187_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeCB5RqIv981uibrTm0C3Vo7ChtzUb3bbYsIuTUroBcjUiHHAnEe-VmWFuHdcFVrnopy1V5x-YAOsrVWJj3_Zl6hKDTBiH1c6zJPUGg5HFP201TJzTG7Ny82DS0eMqqP9C7efgqb_R4s4/s200/1185393_10151852614862082_1417707187_n.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>::: sold our house :::</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So we got a wild hair and sold our house. Wasn't exactly what we saw coming either! </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN2D0tY-kTOeHzi6hVjiIpz0gXvX0vJvnrLH2feDU5aNr_pTdwHVNLssxodx4-CA2cIrb6zaYTjjbPVwiJPYZrmGV8IfLe50kUsWmNzNfwLstzgC3iCKzZVxScvgcJicKoYFylxO8W5WA/s1600/1476053_10152046410117082_699482453_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN2D0tY-kTOeHzi6hVjiIpz0gXvX0vJvnrLH2feDU5aNr_pTdwHVNLssxodx4-CA2cIrb6zaYTjjbPVwiJPYZrmGV8IfLe50kUsWmNzNfwLstzgC3iCKzZVxScvgcJicKoYFylxO8W5WA/s200/1476053_10152046410117082_699482453_n.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>::: started building a house!!! :::</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Again, wasn't exactly what we saw coming, but we're oh so excited for what's to come. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLbd6kOkSpw2pZd4FiagnCZ5rkE8CfZITycCgmY-YOryKa5t1eJrlRWHJLzyL0oPpR6TIcYd_cqfzJ6hBqBXr8OOAL7LADU1xs2_zctnfslgW5DuDROqxfmemBdLpI8XGgi9n9RsHKOqc/s1600/1383183_10151966213717082_1561422020_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLbd6kOkSpw2pZd4FiagnCZ5rkE8CfZITycCgmY-YOryKa5t1eJrlRWHJLzyL0oPpR6TIcYd_cqfzJ6hBqBXr8OOAL7LADU1xs2_zctnfslgW5DuDROqxfmemBdLpI8XGgi9n9RsHKOqc/s200/1383183_10151966213717082_1561422020_n.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>::: moved in with friends :::</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Yep, that's what we're doing!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">(we have pretty great friends!)</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>::: daniel got a new job! :::</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">PRAISE! </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>::: God has brought us purpose :::</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Our story is our story. And God has continued to give me purpose in that mystery. I've shared it in multiple ways this year only by His grace.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><b>So it's been a pretty great year.</b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">2014 GOALS...</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>::: live more simply :::</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I know, I know I just spent the whole day shopping at Dillards! But seriously, after packing everything we own to go in storage I really just want to live more simply!!! That means different things for every person, but this year I hope to discover what it means for us. I bought a planner today. Yes, an old school paper planner. I want to write things down. I <b><i>want</i></b> to use my phone less. (GASP!) I want to be present. It's a re-programming I think.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>::: let go of the heavy and just be :::</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">What does this mean in the course of eternity? Or even the course of this year. I want to do what's important and let go of the rest. I feel like we just touched the tip of the iceberg this year. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The other night Paisley was putting a little nativity puzzle together. She's probably put it together 10 times in the past couple weeks. But I laid on the floor and watched her and was amazed at how fast she did it and how smart she was. How could I have missed this? Was I on my <b><i>phone</i></b>? Was I focused on something <b><i>more</i></b> important? I have lots of dreams for my kids and for myself. Time to stop dreaming and do the little things that we can each day in the direction of our dreams and <b><i>let go</i></b> of the rest. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>(My goals are to pursue my business/brand more and write... as in a book. Did I just put that out there!?!)</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>::: counting blessings :::</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">A few years ago I read One Thousand Gifts for the first time, having no idea how much I'd need it in the coming days. Last week I bought the devotional because I need to be reminded going into 2014. Somehow it's easier to see the little blessings on the bleak days. Last year I was grasping for blessings at every turn to help get me through. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The other night while my parents were putting up Christmas my dad stepped outside and called my mom & I out to look at the stars. They were so bright and clear. You could see them everywhere. I thought about it later... You see the thing is the stars were always there. We just couldn't see them in the city light. For us God's light has shown brightest in our darkness. But I want to see(k) him the same in the blessings. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So here's to a new year, of new starts and new blessings to be counted...</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje7Q0ycO00mtg7wpkaFqcjxxTHT0VpnSDMp9X0SVdiZY4jmaSz_j_0R8vNW1E9CGTD-5zhFLZnv6IIVirPGKYdSHovqgWRe6RlfhpFpVq-zWUyMZrzJo7PcAjdD4m2xpWwJQ_UTP3M-DI/s1600/photo-5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje7Q0ycO00mtg7wpkaFqcjxxTHT0VpnSDMp9X0SVdiZY4jmaSz_j_0R8vNW1E9CGTD-5zhFLZnv6IIVirPGKYdSHovqgWRe6RlfhpFpVq-zWUyMZrzJo7PcAjdD4m2xpWwJQ_UTP3M-DI/s400/photo-5.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />-Beth-http://www.blogger.com/profile/04084765790601870793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5445925658227624308.post-62971964712604201792013-12-06T08:00:00.000-06:002013-12-06T08:04:30.393-06:00One year (later)<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The weight of this day has been pressing on my soul for months. Not that this one day means anything in the course of how grief rolls through time. But it's a day of such clear, deep wounds & bitter memories. And at the same time it's a day that somehow comes with a sense relief and a breath of fresh air behind it. We made it a YEAR.... Not only made it through a year of grief, but plowed through it head first, arms raised, seeking joy in the midst of pain in a way that most days I can say I'm more than thankful for - even proud of. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I can't act like this year hasn't been hard and that I always put on a good front, because it hasn't... & I didn't. Anyone close to us knows the ups & downs that have come this year as we've tried to move forward. There have of course been painfully difficult days along the way. There have been monthly milestones we suffered through, there have been days and days of guilt and suffocating questions. Many mornings I wanted to crawl under the covers and not come up for air. YET beyond the pain this year has been washed in (actually flooded in) GRACE. Such that could not be mistaken as to where it comes from. He has constantly and graciously pulled us up out of the pit. And even as we proclaimed a year ago that HE makes all things new.... He does and He is still. We have been made new this year and I am confident He will continue to renew, even in some of the darkest, hardest days of facing reality- like today.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I did this video {link below} for our women's retreat last month and have wondered if I should share it here. Despite my rambling it was edited beautifully to share the best of our testimony. So I can confidently say one year later... We are better than alright. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://vimeo.com/78273551">http://vimeo.com/78273551</a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i>Sweet Gibson,</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i>I can't bare the thought that it's been one whole long year since I held you in my arms, felt the beating of your heart close to mine, listened to your tiny breaths & stared into your deep blue wondering eyes. I swear I can sometimes still smell the distinct sweet scent that I carried on me for 108 days. Our hearts still ache for you. Our lives are not complete without you here daily. I long to sing to you one more time, let your brother pat your head and your sister stare in awe, and your daddy nap with you on his chest. I still anxiously await the day we meet again. I have dreamed of all the things your little body has now conquered. We rejoice with hope that you are happy, healthy & whole, walking & talking with Jesus today.</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i>Happy Homecoming day in heaven our brave little angel.</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH9NNCNtkbtBBgAJj4BV92W5wjHwq2-zuwL3PVEb1WwT5m9lEKEXsrDELeVuVdVbjCNQ7u4VdXG6fPLMAktC5dWftfvE08aWhZvBWZN5WJZmrY2yCPV553ESiRApr5ym6SLgmdx5t5tFA/s1600/photo-2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH9NNCNtkbtBBgAJj4BV92W5wjHwq2-zuwL3PVEb1WwT5m9lEKEXsrDELeVuVdVbjCNQ7u4VdXG6fPLMAktC5dWftfvE08aWhZvBWZN5WJZmrY2yCPV553ESiRApr5ym6SLgmdx5t5tFA/s320/photo-2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>-Beth-http://www.blogger.com/profile/04084765790601870793noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5445925658227624308.post-81723932442707151662013-11-08T09:43:00.000-06:002013-11-08T09:43:12.930-06:00#ichoosethankfulness<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">One day in July I was on one of my normal (just about daily) walks through hobby lobby. Darting in with two kids flying past the breakables, pleading for cooperation when it hit me. Suddenly there it was - the fall stuff. I could feel the tears welling up as my heart began to beat faster. Even past the horrible acoustic rendition of "Lord I lift your name on high," playing in the background, kids tugging on me, screaming for snacks and random unassuming moms all around I felt it hitting me and began to cry. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Fall has always been my favorite time of the year. And we all know I love to celebrate. So as I felt the pain rise up in me with the mere sight of decorations I felt confused and unsure of the days ahead. A few weeks later I was praying with some girls one night and I mentioned my fear of the season ahead. My sweet friend said in the most simplistic but firm way, "You just need NEW memories this year." It was simple in theory but more difficult for my mind to grasp how I would implement that. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I do have good memories of last fall. Despite the heartache that accompanied them, I documented a lot through the #ichoosethankfulness series. A <a href="http://blog.kellitrontel.com/" target="_blank">friend</a> posted on IG the challenge and I jumped in and am so thankful for the impact it had on my heart. It truly changed the course of our gratitude going forward and walking through this past year. Some of my hard but favorite photos from last year...</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizzpvzGGct2Ho8ThXw_99_mX2TL3SvawzMU2Ufce5rEk972frtNTDZfx6mF4v24CgXZVnxLLWoQIaYYqj25rL5gY43CWASbd6AH7k6ifGeSFLTabAwhQIi-Wg13lbDlU0VzigaC2ZpXls/s1600/28030_10151297293192082_243074353_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizzpvzGGct2Ho8ThXw_99_mX2TL3SvawzMU2Ufce5rEk972frtNTDZfx6mF4v24CgXZVnxLLWoQIaYYqj25rL5gY43CWASbd6AH7k6ifGeSFLTabAwhQIi-Wg13lbDlU0VzigaC2ZpXls/s320/28030_10151297293192082_243074353_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF1u5M91GUNeuyLhYrZYwaPIyZ_5v1iOYsBj83GBZX1oCCvECBJFPkwBf2t7KXQJNzEM-wJusQ2Fn6Vh9sWndUWJgccgQNFEtE0gfcPbhpdW0_m3K4p9mQTJeb-x7s4uYApfB_Mx4eid0/s1600/63161_10151325225167082_205535006_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF1u5M91GUNeuyLhYrZYwaPIyZ_5v1iOYsBj83GBZX1oCCvECBJFPkwBf2t7KXQJNzEM-wJusQ2Fn6Vh9sWndUWJgccgQNFEtE0gfcPbhpdW0_m3K4p9mQTJeb-x7s4uYApfB_Mx4eid0/s320/63161_10151325225167082_205535006_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggCAwx_BowAfm4dS3UCQsCcTyImpUlVC1tmekVgs6qBKM14MoHU70TXr15qQkc0pGsYxQJUpNK4NaXYmXB-YEQ1q4zDafQqk5NCcDWFGudpBFXlhAHOK01ewAW-wciuvCNC24bKS8BWOU/s1600/75196_10151334480717082_2102627760_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggCAwx_BowAfm4dS3UCQsCcTyImpUlVC1tmekVgs6qBKM14MoHU70TXr15qQkc0pGsYxQJUpNK4NaXYmXB-YEQ1q4zDafQqk5NCcDWFGudpBFXlhAHOK01ewAW-wciuvCNC24bKS8BWOU/s320/75196_10151334480717082_2102627760_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRDKVPtt34E5Epj4ZOBzE0jc8XcBjju1XcsLd9OWJ6ti1uIhMtiN1ljYevLaW_nJVChKQRIktbMCW-ixDRH87dhPzmUaucsPSVFhAgTRN2x6ZJGaMEuwfYulMQSdLga9D6rSHv_992Rmw/s1600/292892_10151312707152082_430668281_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRDKVPtt34E5Epj4ZOBzE0jc8XcBjju1XcsLd9OWJ6ti1uIhMtiN1ljYevLaW_nJVChKQRIktbMCW-ixDRH87dhPzmUaucsPSVFhAgTRN2x6ZJGaMEuwfYulMQSdLga9D6rSHv_992Rmw/s320/292892_10151312707152082_430668281_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNPHagY9_mnJod2nZVm7wIP1GhpSfQMC8jAoBEuxvugPQ7mqzg2Gge3-kdgM_rSf4JGSwsiKO6LUebwFWwBIXswHtAAncVb3aXf3czjGBd7LJOp3dIbAb6xYO9k-ewXKNs1rNj5ZdTpNE/s1600/302802_10151301792342082_2105490678_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNPHagY9_mnJod2nZVm7wIP1GhpSfQMC8jAoBEuxvugPQ7mqzg2Gge3-kdgM_rSf4JGSwsiKO6LUebwFWwBIXswHtAAncVb3aXf3czjGBd7LJOp3dIbAb6xYO9k-ewXKNs1rNj5ZdTpNE/s320/302802_10151301792342082_2105490678_n.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIj9sm5BIhxL27WH3gKAmBpEpDMfMHr6N6NVkRGCW15l05m1dBeeQPcBxq6uJWijU3IP0z3SSuVU2TY0-39G3bNF6pqyCvTZoVETaHb_ayovAtnSUEQPuuH2HkCh6HVXD4h6lfhw-8miU/s1600/559140_10151319294227082_982527738_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIj9sm5BIhxL27WH3gKAmBpEpDMfMHr6N6NVkRGCW15l05m1dBeeQPcBxq6uJWijU3IP0z3SSuVU2TY0-39G3bNF6pqyCvTZoVETaHb_ayovAtnSUEQPuuH2HkCh6HVXD4h6lfhw-8miU/s320/559140_10151319294227082_982527738_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGP8qUv4tT8aq47XpdBRDVTDFBOwsBTgxmKd3AedLUrxAL2z-brGbvi-QOhgFsYx1dwe2TXUba_mew4t5Mi8qoQWWHxgC2HbHJxpz8FEIkorj6GP2RUGYFBKn5dYjBYXYDk_i9q4692Ag/s1600/599036_10151311533172082_1498195423_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGP8qUv4tT8aq47XpdBRDVTDFBOwsBTgxmKd3AedLUrxAL2z-brGbvi-QOhgFsYx1dwe2TXUba_mew4t5Mi8qoQWWHxgC2HbHJxpz8FEIkorj6GP2RUGYFBKn5dYjBYXYDk_i9q4692Ag/s320/599036_10151311533172082_1498195423_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSMewYjQTCmKLI6haQAmNcPF7Z_keTVNo8QjnvLKUkQGHCiyV2eDv8LkVFUoQtLHTYa9p4nnLoED9ewN3OWX9G7aHiPmT5SPFbuwsVaAbf1KStVedJyCvp0-WlSJwBv500u43xi83YGsE/s1600/599925_10151331558492082_755660143_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSMewYjQTCmKLI6haQAmNcPF7Z_keTVNo8QjnvLKUkQGHCiyV2eDv8LkVFUoQtLHTYa9p4nnLoED9ewN3OWX9G7aHiPmT5SPFbuwsVaAbf1KStVedJyCvp0-WlSJwBv500u43xi83YGsE/s320/599925_10151331558492082_755660143_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy3I9Gtv9F-3tQWu421EVQd5aTeuoAC9DsDryg8QsqvzLZplvGUU3LLstexQw3xJbHORzmiGX9zA2vu39aUfyuZ2aDDnAIYjaNu1-m2ODb0tKLOJzbbeP9ZVA-uWgqP2lRsLpZYvahtN8/s1600/603907_10151299768797082_128576501_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy3I9Gtv9F-3tQWu421EVQd5aTeuoAC9DsDryg8QsqvzLZplvGUU3LLstexQw3xJbHORzmiGX9zA2vu39aUfyuZ2aDDnAIYjaNu1-m2ODb0tKLOJzbbeP9ZVA-uWgqP2lRsLpZYvahtN8/s320/603907_10151299768797082_128576501_n.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh81lo0Cp_nkk5pOQu56gLqcOJp2PsTH-IR4kH6SF9olGKYbxdS9fvaHoF3J5zKXXhePlXQfM_PWtbtaYMakLD9F2rPAus3jcmJ08EolVI9nyJdB8iqc6A-nSF9XEW3ari8akphGK8ZqU/s1600/552288_10151314417002082_601252745_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh81lo0Cp_nkk5pOQu56gLqcOJp2PsTH-IR4kH6SF9olGKYbxdS9fvaHoF3J5zKXXhePlXQfM_PWtbtaYMakLD9F2rPAus3jcmJ08EolVI9nyJdB8iqc6A-nSF9XEW3ari8akphGK8ZqU/s320/552288_10151314417002082_601252745_n.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdYLTT5gxAYgzg3qrWXaa9rt78CQYra3W3S8GXpsx-s6PIpVVm-_z0rfmqr19t43p0QCX7wfKrJjMYAG0hqbykI1qPruztpoMZAqb6pFZQjdn5Bv2yVyjSx-Oo5HQrlmvXn-lfM05bLlY/s1600/64681_10151329379042082_835540456_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdYLTT5gxAYgzg3qrWXaa9rt78CQYra3W3S8GXpsx-s6PIpVVm-_z0rfmqr19t43p0QCX7wfKrJjMYAG0hqbykI1qPruztpoMZAqb6pFZQjdn5Bv2yVyjSx-Oo5HQrlmvXn-lfM05bLlY/s320/64681_10151329379042082_835540456_n.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCrxzXigP035CsF3BiIdeXXdFErhGY7PDgJOQT1UdDL3r8lRrDBS7BUqnonaH9kuWVy-tDcLy6XzgGHZntEIUlMoF9JhiQdblJ4E0v0SjuebWHX32xeUMc3Y6_HPLSugCH1VVTnEZnKks/s1600/252271_10151337327797082_590544846_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCrxzXigP035CsF3BiIdeXXdFErhGY7PDgJOQT1UdDL3r8lRrDBS7BUqnonaH9kuWVy-tDcLy6XzgGHZntEIUlMoF9JhiQdblJ4E0v0SjuebWHX32xeUMc3Y6_HPLSugCH1VVTnEZnKks/s320/252271_10151337327797082_590544846_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVKOzguXCIBeFPtohAhqy2g9UjXfEOIwHOE6VMAXhDIZdkYHpk4mvW9pB5RrzasowpYL0BakkCc83ADUwErRsBRsl-1rzUsKoicF6rJEOJg1rgVcVR1QJdTbIqhsyg6m_F2YAiSsqsftE/s1600/604043_10151336230197082_496022517_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVKOzguXCIBeFPtohAhqy2g9UjXfEOIwHOE6VMAXhDIZdkYHpk4mvW9pB5RrzasowpYL0BakkCc83ADUwErRsBRsl-1rzUsKoicF6rJEOJg1rgVcVR1QJdTbIqhsyg6m_F2YAiSsqsftE/s320/604043_10151336230197082_496022517_n.jpg" width="320" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbj_CneNdSZ6k-0LvU859S0_czxNgGXIbzL7R9-ZyfzKHTSc4obyAwik4KBUl73xQkIDRJRQJLEgC-lZrfFfe9DGHRaPUnnlagJD-75kJL8wBuwiqKGCZkYOtnYXpTtFDJKPnvP_ssbf8/s1600/526909_10151339053822082_1604570562_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbj_CneNdSZ6k-0LvU859S0_czxNgGXIbzL7R9-ZyfzKHTSc4obyAwik4KBUl73xQkIDRJRQJLEgC-lZrfFfe9DGHRaPUnnlagJD-75kJL8wBuwiqKGCZkYOtnYXpTtFDJKPnvP_ssbf8/s320/526909_10151339053822082_1604570562_n.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I felt the same pain this morning - it hit me out of nowhere just like that day in hobby lobby. I walked through the living room and glanced up to see the Rockefeller center tree being rolled down the streets of NYC on the today show. I've only been to NYC a handful of times but the first was this exact time of year and the thrill of the city preparing for the holidays was something I can't even describe. I felt it in my heart. Preparation for this season in my soul. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">We're moving out of our house next weekend. As we prepared to put our house on the market it became clear how much I wanted to move... before the holidays. We don't have a new house yet. But we have an amazing half-way house with some very giving friends! ;) It WILL be a good season, full of NEW memories. And I AM thankful. And I know that on the other side of the crazyness ahead is a newness we can't imagine. And I'm clinging to that. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">When we bought this house our backyard was a lusious garden reaping the harvest of a sweet little widow. Well, after having kids, despite our best intentions that didn't last. And the past few seasons of drought have completely wreaked havoc on it! When we were getting ready to list the house we had to rent a chipper and haul out all the dead stuff. I kinda thought the only beauty left in it was the free roaming yellow lantana and the last standing rosemary bushes. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">But this week I found this little spot...</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD8K0PMkO2vQII6abUjd-0NtiQMudrdiWWjnL2XBhjp9ZYYrhd5zlusWWPpOyakcb4JBF_r-18TuJBc3pLjJEGqXaUFeAtgFREusXNnls8L4fK4AAJm93Y6mbUztgbyY1UQO1aPBGP5ig/s1600/image-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD8K0PMkO2vQII6abUjd-0NtiQMudrdiWWjnL2XBhjp9ZYYrhd5zlusWWPpOyakcb4JBF_r-18TuJBc3pLjJEGqXaUFeAtgFREusXNnls8L4fK4AAJm93Y6mbUztgbyY1UQO1aPBGP5ig/s400/image-1.jpeg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">God is still a God of new seasons. If you're in a drought, there's beauty ahead. If you're in a winter, there's a spring budding up below you. Hang in there. And CHOOSE thankfulness with me. Please?</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I should probably start packing now...</span></i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />-Beth-http://www.blogger.com/profile/04084765790601870793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5445925658227624308.post-49114291829448473532013-10-16T09:39:00.000-05:002013-10-16T09:47:47.017-05:00Deeper Roots. We're moving! Somewhere...<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Monday morning as I walked into the dim kitchen and picked up the dented coffee pot I chuckled. It is still in the same condition it was when it came out of the POD exactly 6 years ago to the day. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">We moved here on faith. Literally. When people have asked for the past 6 years why we moved to Austin I've usually said, "I don't know, God told us to." Now I know.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">We moved because God told us to, but the truth is we weren't so convinced...for a very long time. We uprooted everything we'd built as a young couple trying to seek God's will for our life, build deep relationships and start a family. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">We knew exactly 4 people in Austin when we moved. We didn't have jobs. We didn't have a house. But we had a church and despite the turmoil we stuck there and grew new roots. (I'll get back to that!)</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">When God told us to move here we'd been in our {NEW!} home outside of Nashville for exactly 2 years. We'd been married 4 years and were ready to have a baby. We put our house on the slow market and it sold by owner in 3 weeks. We found out a couple weeks later to our surprise I was pregnant. I say surprise because we'd tried and prayed for a while and then decided (WE) should wait. {Haha. As if we're in control.} We came here to visit for a weekend, picked a house (on complete faith or stupidity- one or the other) and <b><i>didn't</i></b> get jobs. We went back, loaded all our stuff in a POD (or I should say a SAM - I don't think they're in business anymore- and there's a reason!!!), we stayed with friends for a couple months and then it was time. We moved. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Until recently with friends I haven't admitted how hard the first couple years here were. We loved Austin, we were closer to family which we wanted, we had a sweet new baby boy soon after which was amazing, but I had all the hormones and emotions to go with that and no one near that I was close to. And things were tough. It took a long time to get jobs. I worked horrible hours at starbucks during the in between and before & after pregnancy. The so called "Live Music Capital of the World" was surprisingly hard for Daniel to find a good job. And we questioned God a lot along the way, asking where that "traction" was we were looking for to grasp onto and start thriving in. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And really I can't say exactly when things got better. There was a good period when we considered giving up. Going back or going to Dallas. But we didn't feel like God was done with us here. And he definitely wasn't. We dug into our church because we knew God had called us there despite the loneliness we felt. We dug into our community and I met the most amazing group of MOMS that helped me as I was pregnant with a second much sooner than expected. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And things didn't get easier over night. But over time God planted us. He helped us sprout roots and prepared us just in time for the storm. I recently saw the quote:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>Storms make trees take deeper roots.</i></b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I did a little investigating to see if that was true. Here's what I found:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">A lot of rain will saturate the ground to a greater depth, and the roots will no doubt go down deeper to get the water. One storm won't make much difference, because roots don't grow fast enough, but a series of storms will.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"> I</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">t has been found that wind stress from repeated storms causes the trunks of trees to increase the speed of growth in the outer layers, making them thicker faster. If they get thicker, they will probably grow more and deeper roots.</span></i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So here we are, exactly 6 years later, not a lifetime, but somedays this year it kinda feels like it. But I couldn't feel more rooted & planted. I couldn't want more to be exactly where we are. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">We put our house on the market 3 weeks ago because we felt like we should. We realized we could surprisingly make enough right now and be able move forward. We didn't have to move, but the thought of a fresh start right now sounded overwhelmingly comforting & appealing. Sometimes all the paint in the world can't change the walls around you.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I like to frequently remind God that we did our "Blind Faith Move" and we don't need to do that again. Well, here we are. Our house closes in less than a month. And we have no idea which house is waiting for us. (But don't worry Austin, you've won hearts, you're stuck with us now!)</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><i><b>So here I am, holding my dented coffee pot... reminding me of God's faithfulness.</b></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"> </span></span>-Beth-http://www.blogger.com/profile/04084765790601870793noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5445925658227624308.post-44331910799323403952013-08-30T16:15:00.003-05:002013-08-30T16:15:54.153-05:00Embrace your shadow<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">This is the last day of the first week of Kindergarten. Can I get a "What What" from all the new Kinder moms!?!? </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I feel like I'm crawling across a hurdle at the finish line, dreaming of pizza and a movie at home tonight, staying in my bed till at least 7am, and letting Daniel make pancakes in the morning.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Will this schedule ever feel normal?!?! </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I. am. not. a. morning. person. I am a night owl. I work at night, I'm creative at night, I get things <b>done</b> at night; I stay up late. I watch Jimmy Fallon for crying out loud. I'm only 30! (ahh hmm, ok 32.)</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I questioned a fellow walking mom (or should I say trench-mate?!) this morning on the way at exactly 7:36am. She had a child a couple years older and looked like maybe a little more wisdom than I, so I said, "Does this ever get easier?!?" She turned to me and I saw her tired eyes, frazzled hair and just-rolled-out-of-bed wrinkled sweat shorts. (To be fair, I looked the same... I just had a baseball hat & big sunnies on!) "No," she replied. "It doesn't." Then scrambling for hope I said, "Well, does the pick-up line at least get better in the afternoon?" And even more assertively she looked me in the eyes and replied, "No! It does not."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">She walked on ahead of us and I saw her hug & squeeze her sweet daughter, telling her to have a good day and it seemed like nothing she'd said moments before really mattered. We entered the school, I followed Ryder to his class (although he says he's got it now and doesn't need <b><i>me</i></b> to walk him to his room). I watched him put his stuff in his locker and Paisley and I headed home. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">On the way back she begged to stop at the playground and I begged to go home and drink more coffee. We walked hand in hand looking at our shadows again as we've done the past few days.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I was staring at my shadow, in my head criticizing the size and shape of my hips, thinking about spin class in a few hours when Paisley broke the silence with, "I don't want my shadow! I want yours! It's bigger!" I laughed at the irony of the moment. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I wanted a slimmer shadow and she wanted a bigger one.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Without thinking I said, "Well you can't change your shadow. It's exactly who you are and where you are standing in the sun right now."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">It's true. I remember being little and wanting to be older & bigger. I remember being in high school and dreaming of college. I remember being in college and wanting it to be done. I remember being young married and wanting to be a mommy. Now we reminisce of the days before kids when we didn't have bags under our eyes and could eat dinner at 9pm if we wanted. As we crawled into bed the other night Daniel said something to the effect of how we <b><i>USED</i></b> to be cool... "hey there were days when we would just be heading out for the night at this time..." </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">What I wanted to say to Paisley (and to myself) this morning was, <b><i>"Embrace your shadow sister!"</i></b> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Not just your size (I won't go into one of those blogs... Women, your daughters do not need to hear you criticize your body... just search pinterest for a blog on that! LOL. Not my topic.)</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">But where you are <b><i>in life</i></b>. I don't wanna wish away these day of Kindergarten. The other night I said something like, "another day down... 18 more years to go..." But I regretted the words the moment they left my mouth. They seemed so hostile and ungrateful in light of the past year. </span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">As much as it pains me to mess with 'my' schedule. I yearn to have the strength to embrace my shadow. It's not my past, and not my future. But it's exactly where the sun is shinning right now. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I wanna be all there. Even if it is at 5:45 in the morning with a little boy that's "too excited about school" that he just can't sleep. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqUdnkiQ3d8SUR_7yNQGjHb8VcMUiN_Ju9dvOIE4qP68dDgqN3M9LuDbExQv8XtHwczHDiVxK9YGIbcmY55OP2MXVSmrCMOGIzB_A7ILNXs4lXcgVFxXESfDWiWYMq1ZXq3WDgH-V70Wc/s1600/photo-2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqUdnkiQ3d8SUR_7yNQGjHb8VcMUiN_Ju9dvOIE4qP68dDgqN3M9LuDbExQv8XtHwczHDiVxK9YGIbcmY55OP2MXVSmrCMOGIzB_A7ILNXs4lXcgVFxXESfDWiWYMq1ZXq3WDgH-V70Wc/s400/photo-2.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />-Beth-http://www.blogger.com/profile/04084765790601870793noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5445925658227624308.post-15190871940769301982013-08-29T10:56:00.001-05:002013-08-29T16:04:37.894-05:00Celebrating G<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Thank you so much for all the love, support & sweet words over the past week. We had a good last week celebrating Gibson. It was<b> exactly</b> what we needed. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Wednesday we awoke to celebrate the day. My dad was here to be with us and the kids and I had some errands to run, a friend from church came and gave me an amazing massage (!) and we made cupcakes for the night. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Wednesday night we celebrated with friends who put together a <b><i>lovely</i></b> dinner. I wanted us to be with friends and knew our family wouldn't be able to make it to the mid-week get together. And like I said in the last blog I wanted us to really celebrate the year that G changed our lives. We wanted to be together with some of the friends who've really helped carry us through the last year. At one point in the night Daniel thanked everyone and said something I couldn't put into words... He said how we know as Christians and as the church we are to be the "hands & feet" of Christ, and just how much we'd learned and experienced that through those around us this year. How we've learned what that <b><i>truly</i></b> meant.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">That is what we celebrated. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">On the patio at sunset- with lots of friends {even more kids than adults running around!} & lots of food. We celebrated that with music, tears, words of encouragement, hope, strength & love.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">{God's Grace}</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Before we headed out for the night we gave the kids a little gift. I ordered these sweet little key necklaces from an <a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/MudandRoses?ref=l2-shopheader-name" target="_blank">etsy shop</a>. They were so cute about them and Ryder's insisted on wearing his almost every day since. </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimOPEbn0D_OlY5w4RtwpNjDyLBFYr6ImELy81ByRXx8M6uzjzQ1DHlF008TxemuwDPgISynCkfkXDUieXAqAJgmTNFpy1TaCN_Rfm3BCbR2IdTWmbKW2cULfO0c_4-ez8szHZrc3FmNoc/s1600/IMG_4057.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimOPEbn0D_OlY5w4RtwpNjDyLBFYr6ImELy81ByRXx8M6uzjzQ1DHlF008TxemuwDPgISynCkfkXDUieXAqAJgmTNFpy1TaCN_Rfm3BCbR2IdTWmbKW2cULfO0c_4-ez8szHZrc3FmNoc/s400/IMG_4057.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="400" /></a> </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdErDSMCqel2ch0lRK1CgdpbWhASD3AzX2gLB4BkQuD3oplCFyHrRAWw8C-L_q0JAyOx5ZgGvY0RVFSBrsRf0abYLwOUMvMIBpAbQG70bH03-Pv4WSC-Ph7x0In1D_wcKCSDRWdM6WJZ0/s1600/IMG_4032.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdErDSMCqel2ch0lRK1CgdpbWhASD3AzX2gLB4BkQuD3oplCFyHrRAWw8C-L_q0JAyOx5ZgGvY0RVFSBrsRf0abYLwOUMvMIBpAbQG70bH03-Pv4WSC-Ph7x0In1D_wcKCSDRWdM6WJZ0/s640/IMG_4032.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="426" /></span></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP9A3EFts6nT6NdgSWrOC6h3ZB_Ruphzdu5rYE5RlykKK7FH_cRs84gwHW2T4U5-umyR5mQUw1VEWIBq7ZQ2wpOiJL3smaRFTHU34rwLj3A3ajGLN-nW9DH3BV-xkoPu-zyDaMjK2V1j8/s1600/IMG_4031.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP9A3EFts6nT6NdgSWrOC6h3ZB_Ruphzdu5rYE5RlykKK7FH_cRs84gwHW2T4U5-umyR5mQUw1VEWIBq7ZQ2wpOiJL3smaRFTHU34rwLj3A3ajGLN-nW9DH3BV-xkoPu-zyDaMjK2V1j8/s640/IMG_4031.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="425" /></span></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwSyUQ46GSQKseU0o31pPahrIEUCe32uGJ2XihJbTRUu4UgXILRq-QJH3O-HXxb8gRn9ftRM0DzQ2B431Mu30O7Liw0EIv3MlqcwalnrfQD0-ugoxsyrA3j0j46Vs4tl1C8ftjQa1C3t8/s1600/IMG_4044.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwSyUQ46GSQKseU0o31pPahrIEUCe32uGJ2XihJbTRUu4UgXILRq-QJH3O-HXxb8gRn9ftRM0DzQ2B431Mu30O7Liw0EIv3MlqcwalnrfQD0-ugoxsyrA3j0j46Vs4tl1C8ftjQa1C3t8/s320/IMG_4044.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhybsW0eQvBjw08jzocnBRPvr6_dijRDgJRXam_qH1g6OqtWMqc6ru-a7DWcB6OcntNv9bZzlMApeZrbtywbQhzpVGsE2c89q7PnL5ruloJXB-m-ZlYGv8oNUU5g3lFOpP13zyGew8VZvs/s1600/IMG_4052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhybsW0eQvBjw08jzocnBRPvr6_dijRDgJRXam_qH1g6OqtWMqc6ru-a7DWcB6OcntNv9bZzlMApeZrbtywbQhzpVGsE2c89q7PnL5ruloJXB-m-ZlYGv8oNUU5g3lFOpP13zyGew8VZvs/s320/IMG_4052.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdZr2cnXPrfATM7s5yUPNAN05NOrOUvQ1U3QWOUCgTZ6UKHfYNxGrqv1kt9OVnIUaYuF-KyiS5a7B4Em7-t1KmwrhRezZinCntW2XNWRzUTGUPMpxcMWLRcVvpFhfg8aF4XiFFuPrP1sg/s1600/IMG_4053.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdZr2cnXPrfATM7s5yUPNAN05NOrOUvQ1U3QWOUCgTZ6UKHfYNxGrqv1kt9OVnIUaYuF-KyiS5a7B4Em7-t1KmwrhRezZinCntW2XNWRzUTGUPMpxcMWLRcVvpFhfg8aF4XiFFuPrP1sg/s320/IMG_4053.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieEhUY-sF6_ODo_SAflYdOBYALZwv30NejHxC2BSfN_iRGA3QYxAPjpe5ewCeECywkvaa-m8ryi_n6fmg48WxYWIXSpCWz5zMiBa48p2mWupMa9tcYtM81VlviHJ1nggn87rmkd6nQ714/s1600/IMG_4033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieEhUY-sF6_ODo_SAflYdOBYALZwv30NejHxC2BSfN_iRGA3QYxAPjpe5ewCeECywkvaa-m8ryi_n6fmg48WxYWIXSpCWz5zMiBa48p2mWupMa9tcYtM81VlviHJ1nggn87rmkd6nQ714/s320/IMG_4033.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQbWIEVXTQ0Tz8JTuRXIl0p7u4ro38hlgEwT6z5s-_lu8X4XmnpncLy6vLR_idkgluxvzXrRSmR8bjII1QtX8-8TFyyqsGLynHJisHqcPFoOVYzOIWCgxQ-84dirCO1VjOj6hcUjVO_yE/s1600/IMG_4035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQbWIEVXTQ0Tz8JTuRXIl0p7u4ro38hlgEwT6z5s-_lu8X4XmnpncLy6vLR_idkgluxvzXrRSmR8bjII1QtX8-8TFyyqsGLynHJisHqcPFoOVYzOIWCgxQ-84dirCO1VjOj6hcUjVO_yE/s320/IMG_4035.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-5h8dUJ9BmMwUaTN0WLd-KdYCdEfl8BKHWohR4Osf1YELI7SaXjgCtXS19dUFBqjTMO1hogEWwFS9GbcjA8bnwn33-YQbI2m0ERIs5MD4rj0-c4I1LWVvSvPvgorM1_wagIQixDrTsHg/s1600/IMG_4055.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-5h8dUJ9BmMwUaTN0WLd-KdYCdEfl8BKHWohR4Osf1YELI7SaXjgCtXS19dUFBqjTMO1hogEWwFS9GbcjA8bnwn33-YQbI2m0ERIs5MD4rj0-c4I1LWVvSvPvgorM1_wagIQixDrTsHg/s320/IMG_4055.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf1d3ztdp_OMR15gVuGaG172qYHm_DctT2zhhq7NglC4rWUlW5gFMcLcnFYWd1O5JFtqG9HMsIXVOcr_vRRKHZNVbP3sNwtHjo_wQHzW3-TAVdh9C8UEztSGdANURE1H0UOelFxI2JXyk/s1600/IMG_4036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf1d3ztdp_OMR15gVuGaG172qYHm_DctT2zhhq7NglC4rWUlW5gFMcLcnFYWd1O5JFtqG9HMsIXVOcr_vRRKHZNVbP3sNwtHjo_wQHzW3-TAVdh9C8UEztSGdANURE1H0UOelFxI2JXyk/s320/IMG_4036.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Eky3DcMWIG7ti_4hyU4aZ9wnXgckxA_kaBI8k0rwlHsjQq5i3F3IufD0Mh7D5-DQBlfVL8tUxu3ROBPL9u1jVNAMCRe82gau_OoFy5Nlydm2pPaZTKBc6LoTzOi8ejeh84Lvs4-J6aI/s1600/IMG_4038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Eky3DcMWIG7ti_4hyU4aZ9wnXgckxA_kaBI8k0rwlHsjQq5i3F3IufD0Mh7D5-DQBlfVL8tUxu3ROBPL9u1jVNAMCRe82gau_OoFy5Nlydm2pPaZTKBc6LoTzOi8ejeh84Lvs4-J6aI/s400/IMG_4038.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="266" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij50LJoDJmySX8QMBWwDRIznwetWWzwVW-TtvyZMBH32UDD5VfpXPifU1vdZZ8p51oAVwkE4NRHG0Sf87HOdaAF06Or0ZrQh9uKpwYHIgtRDG0vy_kzlFhZMz_GpoBQhcXAOpXihm4Wg0/s1600/IMG_4042.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij50LJoDJmySX8QMBWwDRIznwetWWzwVW-TtvyZMBH32UDD5VfpXPifU1vdZZ8p51oAVwkE4NRHG0Sf87HOdaAF06Or0ZrQh9uKpwYHIgtRDG0vy_kzlFhZMz_GpoBQhcXAOpXihm4Wg0/s400/IMG_4042.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie1CyzVuwsuy4ziUxlAspVBrsZgCI6mrhXKOzqq-_LhRxP5yw1qsGUFM-5EGSCtT4vPZDkzqWrQzb_tUxG84TnFVL5bqb4dvXDP2sxJIydKT3Genvw4UknbaviUZv7nNqq6fSAdK8qeZU/s1600/IMG_4040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie1CyzVuwsuy4ziUxlAspVBrsZgCI6mrhXKOzqq-_LhRxP5yw1qsGUFM-5EGSCtT4vPZDkzqWrQzb_tUxG84TnFVL5bqb4dvXDP2sxJIydKT3Genvw4UknbaviUZv7nNqq6fSAdK8qeZU/s640/IMG_4040.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="640" /></span></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi37gPKtdYbj_BkUkKzf52XEyYeFOt4QKWrGlfEk5wJ9Lhx2VIhwAaIDnXQZrTgGdqqmkq2u31ULg5am3tOBIr2TxfLi4A15YVfXJly0y4l3PMacGGdvzloZPwkQiHZpYflZMZ72Fm5R4Q/s1600/IMG_4049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi37gPKtdYbj_BkUkKzf52XEyYeFOt4QKWrGlfEk5wJ9Lhx2VIhwAaIDnXQZrTgGdqqmkq2u31ULg5am3tOBIr2TxfLi4A15YVfXJly0y4l3PMacGGdvzloZPwkQiHZpYflZMZ72Fm5R4Q/s640/IMG_4049.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="640" /></span></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">After dinner we headed out to release lanterns. The kids were SO looking forward to it (and I was too)... Well, a windy Texas night and huge flames... and maybe the not so perfect suburbia location did not bode well for the lantern release! After a joint effort try we decided that was not the wise choice to release them there and then. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Carrie wrote these <a href="http://carriesburnttoast.blogspot.com/2013/08/the-lantern-of-friendship.html" target="_blank">sweet words</a> about the night. And I stole her pics below...</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQwAe6UlhubpHkxvHOAotlXHana-4bGYbHdWPwz8aDPshd9QNLK55nWI9Bk_nnegYVd5q6X_b6gp5aoinUjayB5oUiWx3cs9LbVSMF-Fzd4Z5kvCIJtIEjcjr8eA6C7xlYdDa3nCyrijk/s1600/s_418.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQwAe6UlhubpHkxvHOAotlXHana-4bGYbHdWPwz8aDPshd9QNLK55nWI9Bk_nnegYVd5q6X_b6gp5aoinUjayB5oUiWx3cs9LbVSMF-Fzd4Z5kvCIJtIEjcjr8eA6C7xlYdDa3nCyrijk/s400/s_418.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrzOgdqBAFbvbwN91G3Nt1q_DMP2LwnuB1xsGas7pg7zzk75w7287LoCFPPlz8MxNVpHdGqv1qkBhLZJEmJMSYStZXONIhzuyNYICAjyv1GHpRnd7eN-Js_-gr7gIe8I3uhQA0r7_4yhc/s1600/s_419.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrzOgdqBAFbvbwN91G3Nt1q_DMP2LwnuB1xsGas7pg7zzk75w7287LoCFPPlz8MxNVpHdGqv1qkBhLZJEmJMSYStZXONIhzuyNYICAjyv1GHpRnd7eN-Js_-gr7gIe8I3uhQA0r7_4yhc/s320/s_419.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> Ryder cried & cried. But we told him we'd do it another time and place. When we got home Daddy came to the rescue with some (old leftover!) sparklers! :)</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGYsOrSCWrprlF9fM0JYrEQQ-WMkOYRWDrdj-tcn9O7ESU-DXJ2-hzdclG_31w6vP5yXakUb6ei6ytDSuAm2HeVDG4ggCbbFhxGPbjCIp8MsJrN5TciYpSl6snM-9K7E6sSe4vRR4G_UU/s1600/IMG_4060.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGYsOrSCWrprlF9fM0JYrEQQ-WMkOYRWDrdj-tcn9O7ESU-DXJ2-hzdclG_31w6vP5yXakUb6ei6ytDSuAm2HeVDG4ggCbbFhxGPbjCIp8MsJrN5TciYpSl6snM-9K7E6sSe4vRR4G_UU/s320/IMG_4060.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> It was a good night. </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">We went to bed with hearts {again} full of gratitude in the midst of what could have been a horribly painful day. So thank you all. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Saturday was Race day!!</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">! :)</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I talked about the 5k and the meaning in the last blog - so I figured I better have proof! </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It was HOT and crazy with color! We had to take some breathers from the heat & walk a bit, but we did it. So proud to have these girls with me every step of the way. Was so amazing to see "Team Gibson" running in front of me and hear people yell "Go team Gibson," behind me! </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Getting ready to go...</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvRqgrHwrVQUj9w2GDiVQdHYMzA-A8A1flyKTzeamEUoyHOQfvaxYf7Thp-hIQhyphenhyphenPzs0uACUHEyAj4r2bcxQlyyCr1FcRKV640-qz6N-U95ag2V2Q3m1w7zTtW49iDPlvbGQwORwoUhYs/s1600/IMG_4076.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvRqgrHwrVQUj9w2GDiVQdHYMzA-A8A1flyKTzeamEUoyHOQfvaxYf7Thp-hIQhyphenhyphenPzs0uACUHEyAj4r2bcxQlyyCr1FcRKV640-qz6N-U95ag2V2Q3m1w7zTtW49iDPlvbGQwORwoUhYs/s400/IMG_4076.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Matthew & Warren joined Team Gibson too! ;)</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicQZ_LUHmMQDsmHRSo5OMUl9s7ITPjt-0T3R23b0029uqAub9yVcy17yXaGva4vbLlmqefM7yn9b5dSx8jkC2mlU1XoqNnF4eTxvk_tUzUXEPAFI5Fm4-n9Z7SnUnTMif-8msBok5tUes/s1600/IMG_4072.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicQZ_LUHmMQDsmHRSo5OMUl9s7ITPjt-0T3R23b0029uqAub9yVcy17yXaGva4vbLlmqefM7yn9b5dSx8jkC2mlU1XoqNnF4eTxvk_tUzUXEPAFI5Fm4-n9Z7SnUnTMif-8msBok5tUes/s400/IMG_4072.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> And we're off!</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkaBLVP3jRlzjx_ryfb3OqK7nfJ214tPqf0UQSZpdgYTFtQKh0mBkLuqdXt13KPvViKnasD2DSGSmJgMNgEBoqKoPNVyd42dfMNvNIlpTarnB9VDTYprQtmj-YBl5lTkpudboXO5IW6kM/s1600/IMG_4082.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkaBLVP3jRlzjx_ryfb3OqK7nfJ214tPqf0UQSZpdgYTFtQKh0mBkLuqdXt13KPvViKnasD2DSGSmJgMNgEBoqKoPNVyd42dfMNvNIlpTarnB9VDTYprQtmj-YBl5lTkpudboXO5IW6kM/s400/IMG_4082.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="322" /></span></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6a8nMfsqNO7G_4W2IjCEWlC9gKKSpiVnwQ8gbalOv3xugm9SqliWEcMfr3FZliAU1kr0PaZtbCu32irv43D5bIxexjPbxguxqX-raeQbs4BTuPiTF102vzsxQB7nKWMRbKbmGQitnloY/s1600/IMG_4083.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6a8nMfsqNO7G_4W2IjCEWlC9gKKSpiVnwQ8gbalOv3xugm9SqliWEcMfr3FZliAU1kr0PaZtbCu32irv43D5bIxexjPbxguxqX-raeQbs4BTuPiTF102vzsxQB7nKWMRbKbmGQitnloY/s400/IMG_4083.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxuhG9WFFY5yJv5tXGHEwNbcYp-CUqKYDgMgyUijkeC1W7mK3uhIX3O0eIJgYclXbhrLS9hDedSn8qf4KSL9APMqVb-uMsjOVxkmjmVcvDUzDmho5xnYqrn2tZ9HCCFogkGvOgWP51Mbo/s1600/IMG_4089.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxuhG9WFFY5yJv5tXGHEwNbcYp-CUqKYDgMgyUijkeC1W7mK3uhIX3O0eIJgYclXbhrLS9hDedSn8qf4KSL9APMqVb-uMsjOVxkmjmVcvDUzDmho5xnYqrn2tZ9HCCFogkGvOgWP51Mbo/s640/IMG_4089.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="640" /></span></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcd_Gnm584uw13ln1Qkg4IvLC8A0xqgksrSvNifsIdiD_lTg_PjMqpvi-lSG6NsjVTZnAOzTmucC6v58HHsC5IidmCHcx44-O57LO5RfzosqKYO5VI9-laLZrph6jBdQpRl9eycgrA1hc/s1600/IMG_4091.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcd_Gnm584uw13ln1Qkg4IvLC8A0xqgksrSvNifsIdiD_lTg_PjMqpvi-lSG6NsjVTZnAOzTmucC6v58HHsC5IidmCHcx44-O57LO5RfzosqKYO5VI9-laLZrph6jBdQpRl9eycgrA1hc/s400/IMG_4091.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAbmSuOx_nF8EpeFooa3h6swCqR54HxJ4JSyXFg4JOpmSnFQp6UpEUmTGdBchy9W5ENEA9BHXbftNgj92_vicIccuUz3xePGLz_0INqbfLExdmkUQumkXI2PDDUpz82tyulM68y8IW0_8/s1600/IMG_4099.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAbmSuOx_nF8EpeFooa3h6swCqR54HxJ4JSyXFg4JOpmSnFQp6UpEUmTGdBchy9W5ENEA9BHXbftNgj92_vicIccuUz3xePGLz_0INqbfLExdmkUQumkXI2PDDUpz82tyulM68y8IW0_8/s400/IMG_4099.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The AFTER!</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgf4XO0hbGRuF9TojbKPIFsHuALz-QpMclPWFaVQtGKJ7YR6k5DSqnYo9nWfi-BEE321U-JO8YEQglu_0Icw64USfH8KVVJmerW94hQ_on0bkGAYOM5etEbyGCE21cdbk0KSw2qVqD8oQ/s1600/photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgf4XO0hbGRuF9TojbKPIFsHuALz-QpMclPWFaVQtGKJ7YR6k5DSqnYo9nWfi-BEE321U-JO8YEQglu_0Icw64USfH8KVVJmerW94hQ_on0bkGAYOM5etEbyGCE21cdbk0KSw2qVqD8oQ/s320/photo.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">My biggest fan ;)</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicPSx_sX0h0j8PfSsr9CXmBJ6m7xhpK4m2prXcP0d695i8UzidGmD6DbKTnKZFIFQSgsf1sxrpOk3Bc56Dar0H8zl0ZjQGfH30uR-1SazGmPH2pA5ZoGG-wS98o9GuuI_w-1GfDc6WFU8/s1600/IMG_4107.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicPSx_sX0h0j8PfSsr9CXmBJ6m7xhpK4m2prXcP0d695i8UzidGmD6DbKTnKZFIFQSgsf1sxrpOk3Bc56Dar0H8zl0ZjQGfH30uR-1SazGmPH2pA5ZoGG-wS98o9GuuI_w-1GfDc6WFU8/s400/IMG_4107.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="266" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">My littlest fans... they were not exactly happy at this point. Hot & over it! haha.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg76SVsMyHql_whcN5BBeCXria6s4G15uHHpMdm7iENbuXFMt0YZhF10mlULSCkT2izlertQMoEjWqcG1nGPlNxuM37ytRd-MOSI3ywPPpn_-JceItL2QY23ctiG2JjKUMa8ZyqHhPWEPU/s1600/IMG_4102.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg76SVsMyHql_whcN5BBeCXria6s4G15uHHpMdm7iENbuXFMt0YZhF10mlULSCkT2izlertQMoEjWqcG1nGPlNxuM37ytRd-MOSI3ywPPpn_-JceItL2QY23ctiG2JjKUMa8ZyqHhPWEPU/s400/IMG_4102.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The group.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsYCi2sfAf1KrijwJvOnOXGSLh5jjrfbsYxUWiEqkaNR5EZsxFSH6726rWD_BeIjdbsEUxrY7WphLkv1s6874WqVtdpKfJi0CAhiQUjwmVyxXv2cUXjO0BGj34LqakN6H2VINwqoC85wY/s1600/IMG_4143.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsYCi2sfAf1KrijwJvOnOXGSLh5jjrfbsYxUWiEqkaNR5EZsxFSH6726rWD_BeIjdbsEUxrY7WphLkv1s6874WqVtdpKfJi0CAhiQUjwmVyxXv2cUXjO0BGj34LqakN6H2VINwqoC85wY/s400/IMG_4143.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> The girls!!!</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Christy, Kristin E., Me, Ashley, Kristin L.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqJxeuAimU2vSn4u0ru4AInwENiDvqc7ylx15nzi7E99djp95WbQpoSOiSVFfzNAuT6ASrwhH8aDKynyadz3ikn-gSubzE1VzDMaGfhNkIazUJvbPVC2w8nMrbNkFc2ss5NhR-kyLsqJ8/s1600/IMG_4128.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="484" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqJxeuAimU2vSn4u0ru4AInwENiDvqc7ylx15nzi7E99djp95WbQpoSOiSVFfzNAuT6ASrwhH8aDKynyadz3ikn-gSubzE1VzDMaGfhNkIazUJvbPVC2w8nMrbNkFc2ss5NhR-kyLsqJ8/s640/IMG_4128.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="640" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSgfJ1hNU33Kj0NOV1IbueH34jSMf_IuCnToIrhdVaAcM-OrseUSBoTjEEvocdeH2PNtoabEApUifjsz8XK3STWYFe728WOdVO69JvyNxRa2CyayCjriGISiNxE12XFQLsH-B5geUoKC8/s1600/IMG_4108.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSgfJ1hNU33Kj0NOV1IbueH34jSMf_IuCnToIrhdVaAcM-OrseUSBoTjEEvocdeH2PNtoabEApUifjsz8XK3STWYFe728WOdVO69JvyNxRa2CyayCjriGISiNxE12XFQLsH-B5geUoKC8/s400/IMG_4108.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXsKrx3L39GGElLBBHombspwd5DplYHNkZEm2wxYYN1ftGQ3m78BUpZ6QVZX-EJNpo2YlDI9Qr2a6nVqDl29MtmktvKsS23o6qMTuzWK9oGxXz0geo-r3fsn6ZqMBiofwFNNU6c4sK4cE/s1600/IMG_4140.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXsKrx3L39GGElLBBHombspwd5DplYHNkZEm2wxYYN1ftGQ3m78BUpZ6QVZX-EJNpo2YlDI9Qr2a6nVqDl29MtmktvKsS23o6qMTuzWK9oGxXz0geo-r3fsn6ZqMBiofwFNNU6c4sK4cE/s400/IMG_4140.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMAf4VDOITeyGgXoHrgxMaZtz-O4AQQT84b00RdJzkn_hCek8mHLTLs5O7xZC5RTxsH54RucPDXCTeVPB1bGNWF6EtjPoDFNBIat4_4qFxn2QwgjGNfW23uzZr38u5VPxuZQK6al4VPGg/s1600/photo-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMAf4VDOITeyGgXoHrgxMaZtz-O4AQQT84b00RdJzkn_hCek8mHLTLs5O7xZC5RTxsH54RucPDXCTeVPB1bGNWF6EtjPoDFNBIat4_4qFxn2QwgjGNfW23uzZr38u5VPxuZQK6al4VPGg/s640/photo-1.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="640" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSu_YDfPPoK1-KiCl2MwoSa5bcljOWs0eZnpQJMts0wk_5OOTvtbU6FhULsCcIkBsxv1XoW8Qa3nsZvN6LnKruNyK0tkqolYOcr7K0C9XuS6dKjpNX_arkM9tIsvGyq8pbbKsN3oAQo1Q/s1600/photo-3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSu_YDfPPoK1-KiCl2MwoSa5bcljOWs0eZnpQJMts0wk_5OOTvtbU6FhULsCcIkBsxv1XoW8Qa3nsZvN6LnKruNyK0tkqolYOcr7K0C9XuS6dKjpNX_arkM9tIsvGyq8pbbKsN3oAQo1Q/s640/photo-3.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="640" /></span></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
-Beth-http://www.blogger.com/profile/04084765790601870793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5445925658227624308.post-35165576883319791062013-08-21T08:00:00.000-05:002013-08-21T08:00:02.230-05:00One Year<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i>Today we will celebrate The Year That Gibson Changed Our Lives.</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A year ago today was the most terrifying and yet one of the most joyous days of our lives. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">As we welcomed Gibson into a world that wasn't quite ready for him we chose joy because of the crazy treacherous waters we'd walked through to get there. At that moment the sight of his tiny sweet face was beyond anything we'd ever experienced before. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And we were hopeful yet fearful of the days to come. </span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This week has been a milestone I've both dreaded and looked forward to. It's the pain of remembering each detail and the hurt of my heart longing for that sweet one year old baby boy... meanwhile the peace we find in crossing the finish line with this year behind us. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Nothing will change in a day, but it is another step in the walk of healing. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">I hate to run. I've hated to run since the first time in 5th grade I was forced to run around the asphalt track at florence black elementary. Then to the beginning of tennis in 8th grade when coach sutton made me run the white lines of the court... it just got worse. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">In January I started running. Confession: I would go in the cold, dark cardio theater at the Y and run and ball my eyes out. One because it hurt; two because it was healing me. For something I'd always hated, I had a strange determination to conquer it, and it was somehow oddly therapeutic. Like painting... but that's a whole other chapter of my book! ;)</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">When I started running my c-section area still hurt. With every step I could feel the pain of that precious child I bore; that sweet baby boy that was missing from my womb & my life. But somehow as the pain subsided in running, the daily walk through grief grew easier as well.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">Saturday I will {try to!} run my first 5k - something I <b><i>swore</i></b> I'd never do. I've always held to the opinion that running a 'race' was about the dumbest thing a person could willfully do. I go by the ecard that says, "if you see me running you better call the cops..."</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">But I'm doing this 5k this weekend because it was part of my healing. It was something to work toward... and conquer. Something to do with friends on the milestone week of G's birthday- friends who've helped me conquer a lot of things I didn't think I could face this year. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">But I did. We did.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><br /></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">Gibson taught us so much about what we could conquer and walk through. Before the moment he arrived, through the tender moments of the 108 days we had with him, and the many days we've walked through since- about ourselves, each other, those around us and most importantly about God.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><br /></span>Some days I find myself falling into the trap of guilt, of questions, of "what ifs." But really I wouldn't trade what we went through this year. As painful as much of it was, it was a journey God had for us and it's made us all a little bit more of who He intended us to be.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<div style="border-collapse: separate; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">As I wrote one of those sentences in the first paragraph today I realized it's even more true now: <b>We <i>choose</i> JOY because of the treacherous waters we've walked through to get here. </b>We STILL <i>choose</i> thankfulness because we really truly are thankful for the year God has given us and carried us through. And for all the people he's placed next to us to pick us up when we <i>couldn't (or didn't want to)</i> keep going. </span></div>
<div style="border-collapse: separate; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">How one little baby & his less than 4 month on earth could change a lifetime of 'us' is beyond me, but that's how God's love works. It's not a measure of time. I mentioned to someone last week that we were anticipating the milestone of Gibson's Birthday and they very calmly said, "A life is not really truly measured by the time lived."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">HAPPY BIRTHDAY sweet boy. I hope you are having a GLORIOUS heavenly birthday. A party beyond anything this party-planning momma could imagine.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">We love you with all our hearts.</span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzl_uS6swQF1QHYB2Pvlmmtp_dGdKGjI7MndiDWBLoCik0Uz66YbjB7dyw0AsI7GxVQ4n-LJOwBo93OH8L66gGshzdwnx2leo-5VG-rM99QgTKxhVGq3LPs1_QVxDEqa6M6FYKfI4gpGA/s1600/Gibson_09.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzl_uS6swQF1QHYB2Pvlmmtp_dGdKGjI7MndiDWBLoCik0Uz66YbjB7dyw0AsI7GxVQ4n-LJOwBo93OH8L66gGshzdwnx2leo-5VG-rM99QgTKxhVGq3LPs1_QVxDEqa6M6FYKfI4gpGA/s640/Gibson_09.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222;"><br /></span></span>-Beth-http://www.blogger.com/profile/04084765790601870793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5445925658227624308.post-28298787959388571912013-07-25T12:01:00.001-05:002013-07-25T12:01:15.568-05:0010 years!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">10 Years ago today I married my love. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">We were young and starry eyed, having no grasp of what was to come. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">But I wouldn't change a thing.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I remember the first moment I saw him walk into the choir room and into my life. I had no idea at that moment the journey ahead of us... I definitely didn't think I'd marry that kid!</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Life has thrown us for some loops but we've clung to each other and most importantly to God and made it thus far.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">5,334 days together</span></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">3 Houses</span></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">1 cross country blind faith move</span></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">16 jobs</span></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">3 beautiful kids</span></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">1 great loss</span></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">100's of fights</span></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Just as many make ups</span></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">A LOT of faith</span></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Many many joyous days </span> </b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJHv-xul7q3YQZnoUQzjztIs2NZy2X8DLnLG3APuMETXWDXZN5GExfW_e81V6PK4bjeFhu88Fti8oh9Y6-5FG7cFp4OSzwrelvKL-LYcn2R9DAgyrreqj-zVAkq75I0ST1fK5eoLswcVU/s1600/photo-7.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJHv-xul7q3YQZnoUQzjztIs2NZy2X8DLnLG3APuMETXWDXZN5GExfW_e81V6PK4bjeFhu88Fti8oh9Y6-5FG7cFp4OSzwrelvKL-LYcn2R9DAgyrreqj-zVAkq75I0ST1fK5eoLswcVU/s640/photo-7.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwXkmM9ZYoQSqkPT2eI2MUO0toKeLZa-bj_qB0BobrvL1dVJyZ1EJfyjuYXlbMZzPDSiFxiBtuVtC7dM0haSMP1ViGPvVikmISeThXYxxuIbcYij7Iu4RsSjfkXijU8yMVF33ogo4t9CU/s1600/photo-13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwXkmM9ZYoQSqkPT2eI2MUO0toKeLZa-bj_qB0BobrvL1dVJyZ1EJfyjuYXlbMZzPDSiFxiBtuVtC7dM0haSMP1ViGPvVikmISeThXYxxuIbcYij7Iu4RsSjfkXijU8yMVF33ogo4t9CU/s640/photo-13.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjridCMoizXaDqetJ3on30C-9wxzmBrpxNzksk61orIDrJLxly8xhuI2hlCxXndfvdSPi6fjh1pHFzYaLAcrbmaJIa_8Fz3qyg-tVlMXjrgEyHaIveyQG5COWSgQpNaeRe3qksTfDH3zOY/s1600/photo-4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjridCMoizXaDqetJ3on30C-9wxzmBrpxNzksk61orIDrJLxly8xhuI2hlCxXndfvdSPi6fjh1pHFzYaLAcrbmaJIa_8Fz3qyg-tVlMXjrgEyHaIveyQG5COWSgQpNaeRe3qksTfDH3zOY/s400/photo-4.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK5fpNHsDHw6Lqlm2zkC6FmAkQHE1XsJmaW9boUxzwAUVocibt23h-gepvCOkoaMh7X8kotVigOU0JgZOFvxdqapFr3mA3AGY4Wt2ev5nt8JmWdkS1Pbn_xIwHlW6Jdp1orkjxjBvXBjU/s1600/photo-9.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK5fpNHsDHw6Lqlm2zkC6FmAkQHE1XsJmaW9boUxzwAUVocibt23h-gepvCOkoaMh7X8kotVigOU0JgZOFvxdqapFr3mA3AGY4Wt2ev5nt8JmWdkS1Pbn_xIwHlW6Jdp1orkjxjBvXBjU/s640/photo-9.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ6WI0XEaLjwjY9fOkOFKprpEiSggQ7ArRL32mSPARh4g7Ok1dl7laNwOl1HfpFzdWIMvH0ve_-pjpbknEe0kQzSdS52yfDF5Z8GtDkQRqUvalAHr938yKqXTLaZZl_Ou8xy91fVzkaxc/s1600/photo-5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ6WI0XEaLjwjY9fOkOFKprpEiSggQ7ArRL32mSPARh4g7Ok1dl7laNwOl1HfpFzdWIMvH0ve_-pjpbknEe0kQzSdS52yfDF5Z8GtDkQRqUvalAHr938yKqXTLaZZl_Ou8xy91fVzkaxc/s640/photo-5.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR016uRjmYIhCrkrEJ9C96zqjoCduPijCtq3l6EcEC2-xykHPiP6dh-tHuqOYDQ0kbUoPlFXDkWs5YXOvSgJWxtJF9bzC5B9pJft132nsBtXlOzfI1GAqG-tzIXwc6nMsIjwHVGg495No/s1600/photo-12.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR016uRjmYIhCrkrEJ9C96zqjoCduPijCtq3l6EcEC2-xykHPiP6dh-tHuqOYDQ0kbUoPlFXDkWs5YXOvSgJWxtJF9bzC5B9pJft132nsBtXlOzfI1GAqG-tzIXwc6nMsIjwHVGg495No/s400/photo-12.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbJB17kjoyYDHmkByySB_9YE942w7JSmzEEpSjXhailnux5EQ9nendo4CRszRpsatJZ1XPME3fWR0OMg8EHwlPeaqhlCI32aweXhJuS6DfUnC2cb4pwXDuEeTK7LUK9asB59VlspOWcfI/s1600/photo-8.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbJB17kjoyYDHmkByySB_9YE942w7JSmzEEpSjXhailnux5EQ9nendo4CRszRpsatJZ1XPME3fWR0OMg8EHwlPeaqhlCI32aweXhJuS6DfUnC2cb4pwXDuEeTK7LUK9asB59VlspOWcfI/s400/photo-8.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRG3z7BVhY8TMIBalbIvEXRh6kDSkyKa66kNkmnrV6ekqI2KtRMWR2xQyhkg0WLClNofzfyq5427dPiVWxfcwDFjXmp0r67Hf-iJg3PqzkyfV69yAlzyLLbnMs9QDEmTDxc4zvwaZIthE/s1600/photo-10.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRG3z7BVhY8TMIBalbIvEXRh6kDSkyKa66kNkmnrV6ekqI2KtRMWR2xQyhkg0WLClNofzfyq5427dPiVWxfcwDFjXmp0r67Hf-iJg3PqzkyfV69yAlzyLLbnMs9QDEmTDxc4zvwaZIthE/s400/photo-10.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg31uS6Nxw9ijlZAv0CV_4L4X4kHHkvj5Acm4YUJ__IMAW1G762Bf_TOA70zAlVBERLrkrhAWWkCcCAzoL9X591AbbKXCJG2r4tBaI8Vy7PgK2QhwKvm-5NdJBS-2Yg3oMZ3mQlMQrWKlU/s1600/photo-11.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg31uS6Nxw9ijlZAv0CV_4L4X4kHHkvj5Acm4YUJ__IMAW1G762Bf_TOA70zAlVBERLrkrhAWWkCcCAzoL9X591AbbKXCJG2r4tBaI8Vy7PgK2QhwKvm-5NdJBS-2Yg3oMZ3mQlMQrWKlU/s640/photo-11.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinO-Jqc7iW88FJzO2Zd1FVouKNC3-9B2BTQpzi0RSHSnRbpzCDArA0wdbwQrqhTbIZSB0GXsORWgv3Ylz4a-NvnEG6nIEHrCFJjCzG-OPlWHG76sN5_gPMBC644EMF0la86PTCMAXnz1k/s1600/photo-15.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinO-Jqc7iW88FJzO2Zd1FVouKNC3-9B2BTQpzi0RSHSnRbpzCDArA0wdbwQrqhTbIZSB0GXsORWgv3Ylz4a-NvnEG6nIEHrCFJjCzG-OPlWHG76sN5_gPMBC644EMF0la86PTCMAXnz1k/s400/photo-15.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiirZVbMhIeKlpMymnqn7M88VYLwUw97mMME1OeXRoQIkF9HL58phSQUBNRxLToT9CL-iAJ00L0z1JKnNBDEHR8Iozs_5m0JMKvkesOMHzYai9FalA5Phns6gB8g0mIL_0ZLZlyNwstHTM/s1600/photo-14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiirZVbMhIeKlpMymnqn7M88VYLwUw97mMME1OeXRoQIkF9HL58phSQUBNRxLToT9CL-iAJ00L0z1JKnNBDEHR8Iozs_5m0JMKvkesOMHzYai9FalA5Phns6gB8g0mIL_0ZLZlyNwstHTM/s400/photo-14.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr-17hb3525sN2EWKREjWiieHKPpjxHCvNRchPDN8zSA6lUOzguuBZpLz4hOjnFGe11JD1r4iqsvblost76TAnB8Eg8-KzBjj_-RGxkLFPT5IpRHJDVsJQQLR0d2bzB7AMFIC7Z4QmMZQ/s1600/photo-3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr-17hb3525sN2EWKREjWiieHKPpjxHCvNRchPDN8zSA6lUOzguuBZpLz4hOjnFGe11JD1r4iqsvblost76TAnB8Eg8-KzBjj_-RGxkLFPT5IpRHJDVsJQQLR0d2bzB7AMFIC7Z4QmMZQ/s640/photo-3.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I wrote this song for some friends before Daniel & I got married & we've sung it in several weddings since. It could not be more true for our love and our life now...</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In a glance I saw you, in a heartbeat you moved me</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">From my doubts, my fears & uncertainties</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">To a comfort beyond compare</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">You have taken my heart there </span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And from that first moment I knew...</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I knew it was you when I saw your face</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I knew it was you when I felt your embrace</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I knew it was you when you said always</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Oh oh, I knew, I knew it was you.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">You have shaped my world</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">To what I dreamt it would be </span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">You have shown me love unconditionally</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">From this day on</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In your arms I'll forever be </span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Cause from that first moment I knew...</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I knew it was you when I saw your face</span></i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I knew it was you when I felt your embrace</span></i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I knew it was you when you said always</span></i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Oh oh, I knew, I knew it was you.</span></i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And I can't promise I'll make all your dreams come</span></i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But I promise I will be there for you</span></i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And I can't promise I'll always know what's best for you,</span></i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But I know I know this much is true... </span></i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I knew it was you when I saw your face</span></i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I knew it was you when I felt your embrace</span></i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I knew it was you when you said always</span></i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Oh oh, I knew, I knew it was you.</span></i></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD56ijvjE-lFt1DPYDlQksqfr9bL-NNxnGo9bNrDF3m9LBVUoQek2PQuXi9Y6YYyQBRoSdFNw-AjYhxQWqsDHEoIivRr-qqQVZsuuLIXX4KYmcCM3coW496GAKoE-J665KmEJA3RbNIFQ/s1600/20130707_7618_BethandDaniel_TenYears.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD56ijvjE-lFt1DPYDlQksqfr9bL-NNxnGo9bNrDF3m9LBVUoQek2PQuXi9Y6YYyQBRoSdFNw-AjYhxQWqsDHEoIivRr-qqQVZsuuLIXX4KYmcCM3coW496GAKoE-J665KmEJA3RbNIFQ/s640/20130707_7618_BethandDaniel_TenYears.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>I've loved you more every single day for 10 years.</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Many, many more to come...</b></span></div>
-Beth-http://www.blogger.com/profile/04084765790601870793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5445925658227624308.post-28747769265741877732013-06-16T21:50:00.002-05:002013-06-16T21:50:43.522-05:00A loving Father<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This morning at the end of worship Pastor Morgan prayed for a couple and he said to the lady that she was missing a "nearness" with God. That she felt distant from God because of the actions and model set before her by her own earthly father. As I listened and watch this woman begin to weep it hit me like a flood on this Father's Day why I so easily trust my God. Why I so freely take Him at His word. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So many women have deep rooted trust issues with God because they've not seen that in their Daddy. They've not seen him come through again & again for them.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I trust because I've seen that in a father. I've had the best example of a loving father a girl could ever dream of. A father who has loved me through thick & thin. Been my biggest hero & my biggest encourager. My biggest fan & strengthening challenger. My loving rebuker yet standing with arms of grace. Grace... Underserved & unearned.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">My trust in my gracious heavenly Father this turbulent, stormy year came so naturally because I had that modeled in my earthly father from as early as I can remember. And he's never stopped. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">My daddy's love never gives up on me. How much more does the heavenly Father love us and pour out his blessings on us? (Matthew 7)</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">We went on to sing the words to My Chains Are Gone, "The Lord has promised good to me. His word my hope secures. He will my shield & fortress be as long as life endures..." I reflected on singing those very words at my Papaw's funeral with my daddy a few short years ago. Little did I know on this Father's day several years later he may be singing with my baby boy. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The other day in the store Ryder asked about his other great grandfathers. I reminded him Grandaddy, Papaw and Papa were in heaven. He smiled and asked how we could get them a Father's Day card. :) After a few minutes he relented that being with Gibson would be a good Father's Day for them. </span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Yes it would.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig3LrrUuu90g3HEsvJcJ8I8JNRf-fhYK1u3F40pdH9J8f1rSYuKhxz3Jj8BXTy-P-Q8o0-JPT6IvjUv08CvhRCu23kDykJVLWIhCoC1qAGN2hKnO8zAIFrkTnNKO4yNAvvxAjVDHmXdXU/s1600/photo-2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig3LrrUuu90g3HEsvJcJ8I8JNRf-fhYK1u3F40pdH9J8f1rSYuKhxz3Jj8BXTy-P-Q8o0-JPT6IvjUv08CvhRCu23kDykJVLWIhCoC1qAGN2hKnO8zAIFrkTnNKO4yNAvvxAjVDHmXdXU/s400/photo-2.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />-Beth-http://www.blogger.com/profile/04084765790601870793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5445925658227624308.post-76133129988156959152013-06-10T12:11:00.000-05:002013-06-10T12:11:20.202-05:00Get IN the party.What did we do all weekend?!? That is the question as I survey my house on Monday mornings. Our weekends seem to be a blur of a mess after all that. There are piles & piles of laundry & dishes all around and the kids are asking to go to the pool because it's now summer and that's what they expect everyday I guess. We had a weekend of nothing and everything. There was nothing really ON our calendar but I think those are the weekends that fill my needy heart the most. After a long church day, staying up unexpectedly last night talking with girlfriends till the wee hours of the morning left me a sleepy momma this morning, but it also made me a happy one. Because in the midst of the chaos around me this morning I'm better off. I'm better because of those around me who help me to grow, encourage me to step out in what I'm walking through and challenge me to see the important things IN life.<br />
<br />
I've been hard on myself lately because as I try to grow my business I just don't have time to blog ABOUT the parties I do because I'm usually working on the next one. And I know that's really the way to grow in what I do. So I usually just throw out an instagram and hope people like what I do and pass it along. I was telling Daniel last week while we were setting up a party... I just don't know how all these party bloggers do it... telling him all the crazy pictures I see and the set ups they do. I went on to tell him how many of them are paid by companies to style or rather "stage" parties. Meaning... it's not a real party. It's a FAKE party set up to give you ideas of how to use the products. All well-intended and a good idea really. But again, it's not a REAL party. They are paid & receive unlimited resources to create an imaginative party for you. I'd rather be in on the REAL thing, wouldn't you? The real mess of it all. The real problems of having a party are hard to deal with. You set up a party in the middle of the life happening around you. It's not just a pretty dessert table, set up on a lonely wall with a beautiful backdrop that looks unachievable & untouchable. <br />
At the graduation party I set up last week the first guests started arriving and no one was touching the milk & cookies table. They were all just standing looking at it... Finally I said to some of them- "GET IN THERE... EAT SOME COOKIES! DRINK SOME MILK" A few minutes later a guy came over with an almost empty mason jar of milk and said, "Man, I'm lactose intolerant but that was delicious!!!" I laughed and his wife rolled her eyes and ate another cookie. <br />
<br />
See that's why I wanna be IN on the party. I want to enjoy the time & ones around me. Last night as the moms I was with were talking about the pressures of life and feeling the need to just "checkout" sometimes one of my wise friends said that recently she read a devotional reminding her that God's resources to us are unlimited. His GRACE is unlimited to us. She said she saw it as an ocean. Many times we walk over and scoop up what we need for the day and walk through our day carrying it as it seeps through our tired fingers until in runs out. It runs out. Then we explode. On our kids or our husbands or our already worn down house. But what we should be doing is realizing there is an ocean to dip from constantly. His unlimited resources. So when I feel like I can't stay IN the party... I can't keep up. I CAN keep dipping into HIS resources. -Beth-http://www.blogger.com/profile/04084765790601870793noreply@blogger.com0