Suck it up, Princess

I thought about starting this post by saying that I've been going through a tough time lately…there are some personal challenges in my life that are really weighing me down. But then I thought, I'm pretty sure anyone at anytime in their life could make a statement like that.

The challenges change during different seasons of life.

• In college, I jammed my schedule SO full with classes, work, practicum, and ministry responsibilities that I could barely find time to eat or sleep.
• When first married, my whole life got turned upside down with a new husband, new home, new city, and new job. I suffered through an undiagnosed depression for over a year. 
• When we had our first child…
• When we started South Bay Church...
• When we adopted...

Some difficulties undoubtedly outweigh others. And, intermingled with the pain, every season has it's share of joys.

It's the dance of beauty and heartache. The place where laughter and tears merge. When fist-pumping victory in one area is tainted with failure in another. That moment when a breathtaking sunset is interrupted by a swarm of gnats.

We don't get to separate the two. They are always there…together.

And it is up to me to see the artistry in it all. To choose gratitude over pity. To cling to faith over despair. To believe truth instead of lies.

What I say to myself and about my situation can drastically affect, not only the outcome, but also how I walk through it. I have to surgically remove the lies I'm believing and replace them with what I know to be true.

• I am blessed. (Ephesians 1:3)
• God has given me everything I need for life and godliness. (2 Peter 1:3)
• His grace is more than enough. (James 4:6)
• If I ask, He will give me wisdom. (James 1:5)
• He has a plan and somehow this will work out for my good and His glory is I will stay the course. (Jeremiah 29:11, Romans 8:28)

And then, some of the most inspirational words I'm saying to myself right now are: "Suck it up, Princess." 

I don't have time to wallow around in hopelessness. I've got three kids who are counting on me. I'm the only Mommy they get so I better put my hand to the plow and try my best. I've got laundry to do, meals to prepare, bills to pay, and scraped knees to bandage. I have work to do and I am stronger than I think I am. So I will brush the tears off my face (or sometimes just let them flow) and I will keep moving. I will suck it up and believe that when I do what only I can do, God will step in and do what only He can do.

Self-reflection has it's place...But you might as well be sorting the laundry while you at it.

So today, identify the lies that you are believing about yourself or your circumstance and then replace them with truth. You gotta suck it up, Princess. The world is counting on you to show up. To bring your best. Keep fighting through the gnats to dance in the sunset. I'll meet you there.

Minivan VS. SUV

We are a Swagger-Wagon family. Although I’ve always felt like you voluntarily forfeit all rights to coolness as soon as you transition to the world of minivans, we took the plunge several years ago. I’ve been known to look with a tinge of jealousy on large families who drive SUVs. All the necessary space in such a cooler package.  

Well, now I’ve seen how the other side lives.

A few weeks ago, our van was tail-ended and it is still in the shop getting repaired. In the meantime, the insurance company provided us with a Chevy Tahoe to drive. Alright, now! Whose got their swag back?

So I’m here today to offer a little compare and analysis. I’ve now seen the grass on both sides of the fence and I’ll tell you (from my opinion) which one is greener.

My favorite thing about the Tahoe is taking it on dates with Andy. It makes me feel all fancy and hot. It does not give off the same feeling of “Mom-and-Dad-are-going-out-for-dinner” that a minivan leaves you with. The seats are big and spacious. And you feel like you would probably “win” in any run-in with another vehicle. Plus, I’m fairly certain that people are intimidated of us...like perhaps we’re drug dealers or gang members. And, you know, sometimes a little respect ain’t all that bad.

However, the negatives abound. 

• It is a beast to park, especially in the Bay Area where they try to promote clean air vehicles by making all parking spaces the size of a SMART car. 
• The doors open wide...very wide, as opposed to sliding like a minivan. Not only is this problematic with our postage stamp size parking spaces, but little boys don’t really care if your Mercedes is parked next to us. They will mindlessly bang any car door in their way, thus the reason I have the child-lock on their door so they can only exit upon assistance. 
• There is no storage space. Groceries, hello? If I am in need of this many seats in a vehicle, that means I also have that many mouths to feed. Strollers? Beach toys? Luggage? “Here kids, hold this on your lap for me.” (An XL edition would be imperative were we ever to buy one of these things.)
• It takes two strong arms to close the trunk. I cannot be multi-tasking or holding anything else in my hands when I close the trunk. No, this activity requires full engagement. And I  have to pull down on that thing as zealously as those people spin the wheel on “The Price Is Right”. 
• The third row does not exude kid-friendly accessibility. The seat on the middle row must laboriously be pulled forward each time we get in and out of the car. As a mom trying to quickly squeeze in an errand or two between naptimes, those are precious minutes lost. Our kids have resorted to climbing over the middle seat instead. 

It has been fun driving around my Monster Truck for the past couple weeks. I believe I may have achieved a level of coolness that I've yet to experience in my adult life. My neighbors probably think I keep parking it in my driveway just to brag, but the reality is it won’t fit in our garage. It’s just that big. 

So, I must say, I’m kinda looking forward to getting my minivan back with it’s sliding doors and trunk that can open and close with a simple push of a button. I realize that my lameness will automatically increase as soon as we make the trade, but for me, convenience outranks coolness in this stage of life. 

Family Time

We have been blessed with a ton of time with our extended family the past month and a half. 35 out of 49 days to be exact. That is always a huge gift to us since we live so far from all of our family. And, of course, any time you're with out of town family, that's the perfect time to eat a ton of desserts and experience all the fun things your city offers but we rarely take advantage of. 

We visited the Monterey Bay Aquarium and drove the Golden Gate Bridge. We played tag in front of Coit Tower and tried in vain to keep our food from flying away while we gobbled Gott's burgers at the ever-windy Ferry Building. We took more than one trip down Lombard Street and played "Papa-Pitch baseball" at Ortega Park. We hiked, swam, and had wrestling matches in our living room. We ate an obscene amount of ice cream because you have to try Cream when you come here. And at night, after the kids were asleep, we talked. 

Andy's mom, Marcy, came in January to meet Karis and then again in April to take care of the boys while Andy & I had a getaway (with Karis!). Two visits in 3 months. I told her I could get used to that!

Andy's brother, Josh, and his wife, Jamie, came in town at the beginning of May.

Andy's dad, Pete, and stepmom, Denise, came in town at the end of May.

We flew to Florida to spend time with my family at the beginning of June. Picture above are nine of the eleven grandchildren on that side of the family. 

Jonathan (8), Caedmon (7), Caleb (5), Sammy (5), Drew (4), Taylor (2), Daniel (18 months), Luke (18 months), Karis (7 months) 

Here's Karis with the other two grandkids from that side of the fam. Jacob & McCoy are my brother's 9 month old twins. They are posing as Karis' body guards in this picture!

Getting time with extended family (especially family that lives clear across the country) requires spending a little extra money, breaking normal rhythms, and some planning. But these times are the richness of life...what memories are made of and how relationships grow. I'm so thankful for the gift of this time together.

That Awkward Moment...

I've had two rather awkward moments recently:

1- I bought a new pair of jeans from H&M a couple weeks ago. When I put them on to wear them for the first time, I noticed something was in the pocket. That's weird, I thought. I pulled it out to find a receipt. A receipt from Auntie Anne's Pretzels, a place I've never bought anything from before. Definitely NOT my receipt. Which, obviously, brought me to the question of, "Whose butt has been in my jeans? And what kind of unders was she wearing?!?" In that moment, I felt deep regret for not washing my new jeans before wearing them. Gross.

2- Andy's brother, Josh, and his wife, Jamie, recently came to visit us. On the morning that they were leaving I heard Josh open the front door and say, "Hi, I'm Josh...pause...Were they expecting you?" I came downstairs to see what was going on, thinking maybe it was a repair man or someone selling something. But instead there was a man I've never seen before standing in my foyer with a suitcase. He'd already taken off his shoes and clearly intended to stay a while. My mind was racing as to what in the world could be going on while we all stood there looking at each other nervously.

"Oh!!" I finally exclaimed. "You must be here for the wedding!"

"Yes, yes." He rapidly shook his head in agreement.

I just happened to remember that our next door neighbors were getting married that day. He was almost in the right place. So close. But so awkwardly far away!

Please Don't Leave Me

Dear Hair,

I think we may have had some kind of misunderstanding.

You seem unhappy to be with me. I'm deducing this from the handfuls of hair that come out every time I shower. I know you've been a little neglected lately. You get spit up on regularly, washed irregularly, and jerked up in a pony tail most days. I'm sorry. Truly, I am.

But just because I'm head over heels in love with a baby doesn't mean I don't care about you anymore. You are still a very important part of my life. It would be helpful to me if our relationship could be more low maintenance right now. I promise we'll get some quality time together at least a couple times a week (namely, before church and date night). Please don't leave me simply because I had a baby.

I'm really hoping we can resolve this issue quickly because, at this rate, I may be bald by summer.

Sincerely,
Stacie

A Hot Mess

I was a hot mess last Saturday.

I was not supposed to be. All the attention was supposed to be directed at my friend whose birthday we were celebrating. But I guess we don't typically get to choose the timing of our messes.

It all started when we met at my friend's house to drive together. I was going to drive because Karis came along as an honorary member of our girls' breakfast. Everyone arrived, we piled in my luxurious minivan, and then...the sliding door got stuck. Would. Not. Budge.

I called my friend's husband to come outside to look at it, sure that he'd be able to glance at it and immediately see some silly mistake that I was overlooking. THIRTY MINUTES LATER we still sat in that driveway! We googled our problem. We figured out how to check the fuses. We got on the phone with Honda. Finally, I told my friends to head on without me. Andy was on his way and we'd just drive the van to the mechanic (with the door open, mind you). As my friends began to unload and Andy pulled up with my boys (still in their PJs), my friend's husband found a small broken cable and figured out how to shut the door. Long sigh. We piled back in the van and headed to breakfast.

I was a little rattled at this point. I don't really like being the center of attention, ESPECIALLY when someone else is supposed to be. And I absolutely hate it when people are inconvenienced because of me. But, alas, these were some of my best friends, I reasoned, and they were not upset.

When we got to the (very crowded) restaurant, a table for 6 became available. There were 4 of us plus a stroller, so that's where we were seated. However, as we approached the table I realized the awkward seating arrangement would be me and the stroller on one side and my 3 friends scrunched shoulder-to-shoulder on the other. And then one of my friends wanted to hold Karis for a bit so there was a 4 to 1 ratio going on. This was not helping the feeling that all eyes were on me.

Towards the end of breakfast, Karis was lying across my lap. I bent down to pick up her passy that she dropped and when I did I accidentally smashed her sweet head into the edge of the table. It left a red, indented line across that perfect little scalp. She (understandably) started screaming and I swooped her up in my arms and fled out the back door of the restaurant. As we stood outside, I kissed her over and over and told her how sorry I was...and maybe I shed a tear or two myself.

Finally we got ourselves back together and returned to the party. My friend, who knows what I'm thinking in almost every situation, knew I was trying really hard to hold it together. So she told me a great story about the time she dropped her baby's car seat with her baby strapped inside and the carseat flipped over. And then, even though her baby was completely fine, she still reported herself to her pediatrician out of sheer guilt! Ahhh, I am not alone unintentionally victimizing my child. Thank you for the validation.

But no sooner had her story began to calm my nerves then Karis had a blowout poop that soaked through her clothes and onto mine. (I am not making this up, People.) Seeing that this restaurant did not have a changing table we decided we'd better just call it a day. We fumbled back to my not-so-luxerious minivan that now doubled as a changing station so that I could strip Karis down completely naked, give her a wipes-bath, and re-clothe her, all while the birthday girl and my two friends looked on. I even had to take back the gift bag that I had just given my friend which was holding her birthday present so that I could use it to transport Karis' dirty diaper. Talk about tacky!

I know people who also carry a change of clothes for themselves in their diaper bags. Now I understand why...Because it's a little uncool to walk around with mustard colored poop smeared down your white blouse.

Not one of my finer moments...

Two Gifts

The darkest pain lays a backdrop for God’s blessings to shine most brightly. Maybe that's because when darkness closes in, our eyes strain to see anything that resembles light. I’ve seen this working itself out in my own life recently. 

My two biological children are just over 7 years apart. According to the calendar I had set in my head, the age gap should have been more like 18 months. It seems like neatly aligned bookends now, but the middle ground was anything but tidy. My heart was a mess many-a-days. The pain of infertility and miscarriage (which I wrote about here, here, here and here) was suffocating.

When you're suffering people will tell you "God's going to work this all together for your good," and "He makes all things beautiful in His time." I've even said those words myself. But when you're sitting in ashes, you can't see beauty. 

However, I've had time to take a shower since then and, though I may still have a few ashes clinging to me, I'm beginning to see some beauty popping up. Two gifts in particular.

Gift #1:

Sammy. 

Our infertility was the motivating force that urged us to begin our adoption when we did. The timing otherwise didn't make a lot of sense. We were less than one year into starting South Bay Church and had, perhaps, one or two minor lose ends hanging around (read: our lives were crazy). If we had been able to conceive naturally, I'm almost positive that we would have waited several more years before pursuing adoption. And in the process, we would have missed our Sammy...a possibility that seems more than I can bear. 

The sweetness of his smiles, the sound of his belly laugh, the shy way he snuggles close, the dance moves he'll perform (until I grab my camera), his deep love for sausage and tomatoes... We could have missed it. But, by the grace of God we didn't. Sammy is our gift. 

Gift #2:

Every single part of mothering Karis is a gift to me. I don't think I would have felt so strongly about that if the journey to her wasn't so winding. I remember being mesmerized and enthralled with Caedmon when he was born, but I also remember getting frustrated over sleep issues and feeling desperate for a little time to myself. 

With Karis, it's different. We've got our share of sleep issues (probably even more than we did with Caedmon) and I have even less time to myself these days now that I am the mother to 3 children. But somehow, every temptation to sigh is linked to my constant awareness of what a gift she is. (Please don't read this as a confession that I love Karis more than my other kids...it is more a confession that I had no idea how to fully appreciate each moment with them.) 

I delight in breastfeeding that baby (even if it means that I don't get to go to Catalyst this year and my "getaway" with Andy in May will include a diaper bag). It is no burden to me when I have to excuse myself from a meeting or a dinner early because she needs my attention. Her smile is pure sunshine to me and I would pay a lot of money if someone could figure out how to bottle the smell of her head. 

We receive gifts with deeper gratitude when we know the pain of going without it. 

What gifts do you need to thank God for today?

Confidence

A middle school girl does poorly on a math test and thinks to herself, "I'm so stupid! How did I make that mistake? I just can't do math."

A middle school boy does poorly on the same math test and thinks to himself, "My teacher sucks. She can't explain anything. This test was ridiculous!"

The scenario above is a middle school example that totally captures the difference between how men & women (stereotypically) cope with difficulty. One turns the frustration inward and one turns it outward.

My whole life, every mistake and failure has felt incredibly personal. Like a reflection of my worth. And the fear of failure has crippled me from attempting great things. I prefer low risk/high probability of success options. I tend to be a mid-course adopter of any new idea or initiative...let those crazy risk takers roll the dice and, once the chances for success look pretty good, I'll jump on board too.

I can get in horrible, downward spirals of negative self-talk. Especially while doing laundry. (Anybody else?) Satan feeds me a whole buffet of lies and I stuff myself by tasting each one, often going back for a 2nd portion.

• My whole life is wrapped up in menial tasks. Nothing I do counts for anything worthwhile.
• I'm no fun at all. I feel sorry for my kids. I wouldn't want to have me as a mom either.
• There's never enough time in the day. I am living in survival mode.
• No matter how much I get done today, I'll have to re-do it all tomorrow. 

And on, and on that ugly, well-trodden path.

But no more. This is the year that I change the sound-track in my head. This is the year I start speaking God's truth louder than the lies that Satan tells me.

• God has called & anointed me for this.
• God has given me everything I need to do this.
• There is more in me.
• I can get better.
• God is going to help me. 

I once heard Craig Groeschel say, "My language will not reflect limitations. My language will reflect nothing is impossible with God."

Confidence. 

I've let my insecurity hold me back too long. This year I will lead with courage. I will believe that God can use my life to do things that seem so far beyond my capacity right now. I will do the hard work of removing obstacles in order to pursue dreams. There is more in me. 

David encouraged himself in the Lord. 

2 Samuel 30:6

Picking Up Steam

2013 was not my favorite.

It felt like running (mostly walking) against the wind with a parachute on my back. Like living with a low-grade fever or chronic headache. Still functional, but definitely not my best.

I started the year off in a dark place. I was still deeply grieving the miscarriage we had suffered a couple months prior. And I hated that I was still grieving. I wanted more than anything to feel better, but I didn't.

When we lost the pregnancy, I felt smothered in grief. Like someone had wrapped my in a huge, dark blanket and I couldn't see a thing. I kept hoping and praying that one day it would suddenly be lifted and, aha, there's the light again.

But I discovered that healing from grief is not like that at all. At least not for me. You don't wake up one day and just feel better. It wasn't one thick blanket that I was smothered in. It was more like a thousand layers of chiffon. And day by day, layers were slowly lifted so that what was all darkness slowly gave way to hints of light. It takes a long time to see life clearly again, without a veil.

The darkness that I began the year in lingered on longer than I would have ever wanted (or predicted), but layer by layer, light returned to my eyes.

When we found out in March that I was pregnant again, I thought for sure that would lift the grief. But instead I felt very guarded and fearful to receive the pregnancy with pure joy.

The pregnancy was more difficult than Caedmon's. I was 24 years old when I had Caedmon so my young body just thought it was born to birth! This time round I had more nausea, more complications, and a lot less sleep. I've never wrapped Christmas presents at 3 AM in October, but I did this past year.

In the midst of pregnancy woes that forced me to slow down my pace, I felt such deep gratitude and joy over the gift of being pregnant.

• Nausea? Worth it.
• Sciatic pain? Worth it.
• Insomnia? Worth it.
• Contractions beginning in the 5th month? Worth it.

And then she was here. My JOY had arrived. Karis Joy.

We walked around for the final 2 months of the year like happy zombies. No sleep and total chaos. But she was in my arms and it was pure joy to me.

It's strange, though, the grief thing. Even after Karis was born, grief would surprise me at unsuspecting moments. Driving down the road one day my mind wandered back into the treacherous territory of our miscarriage. I tried to reason with the tears on my cheeks that there was no need to cry because my precious Karis was riding in the carseat right behind me. But, even so, I guess we carry a piece of our losses with us always. 

2013 was grief and pregnancy and life with a newborn. I didn't make a lot of personal progress...at least not towards my goals. But I have a feeling that God was growing something IN me that will one day shine THROUGH me.  

So 2014, I'm comin' for ya! I may have been in a sleep-deprived fog during January, but I'm like a freight train leaving the station. And I can feel myself picking up steam! 

Sick Day

Thermometer. Advil. Water bottle. Banana peel.

That's what's sitting beside me on my bedside table right now. Sick day = no fun.

I went to bed feeling crummy last night. Achy & chills, but no fever. I thought I was just exhausted from a long Sunday and not getting enough sleep the past few days. But as I slept fitfully for a few hours I could feel the achyness increasing and by 3:30AM I had a 102 fever. Bummer.

When mom gets sick, life gets complicated. Especially when mom is the sole source of nourishment for a 3 month old baby.

My husband is a rock star, and a saint, and an awesome example of what a husband/father should be. Not only did he totally readjust his morning to be able to stay home and help with the kids, he did it without ever giving me the slightest hint that it was an inconvenience for him. Love that man. I stayed quarantined in my room and just passed bottles out to him every 3 hours. Praying God protects the rest of my family (ESPECIALLY Karis) from this sickness!

Random side note, I wasn't sure whether or not I could give Karis my breastmilk while I'm sick, so I Googled it, of course. And wouldn't you know, that miracle liquid from God is exactly what's best for her even when I'm sick. In fact, the immunity that my body is building to fight off this sickness is being passed to her through my milk to protect her from getting it! Amazing. (The older boys are on their own though because I do NOT plan on passing out cups of my milk to everyone else in the fam. That's a little weird to me!)

So thankful my friend, Darlene, could come this afternoon to help with my kiddos so Andy could get a little work done. Thanks, Darlene!

I would totally appreciate your prayers as I feel like the timing of this sickness is less than coincidental. We are launching South Bay's Sunnyvale campus this Sunday (SIX DAYS!) and three of the people (2 staff members & me) who directly support Andy are sick today. Does anyone else see a pattern there? While your at it, please cover our whole staff and the Sunnyvale team with your prayers. Satan does NOT like to see the Kingdom of God gaining ground in the Bay Area.

That's all I've got for ya today. Nothing too spiritual or profound. Signing off, in my PJs in my bed!

His love never fails

This morning, Karis and I watched the South Bay Church service online. Well, actually, I watched it while she slept on my lap!

When Archie began singing the song, "His love never fails, it never gives up, it never runs out on me," it struck some tender place in my heart and I was trying to figure out why. Then it dawned on me...

It was this Sunday one year ago that I was in the middle of our miscarriage. I felt like something was wrong and had been to my midwife two times the previous week. Both times we saw the heart beating, but I still felt uneasy. That Sunday I found myself caught between hope and despair. Hoping against hope that my intuition was wrong. But the next day my fears were confirmed as the heartbeat was gone.

The song Archie sang this morning was one we sang regularly this time last year...and it haunted me.

"In death, in life, I'm confident and covered by the power of Your great love."

Except, I didn't feel very confident and what I was suffering through didn't feel very loving. 

For months I battled these thoughts in my mind. Every day. All day long. It was hard for me not to equate my circumstances with God's love (or lack of love) for me. I found myself thinking things like, "You could have prevented this. So whether You caused it or simply allowed it, You did this. And I just can't understand why."

Some time during those dark months I listened to a sermon by Andy Stanley. He taught about the time John the Baptist was in prison about to lose his life and it seems that his faith was shaken. John sent friends to talk with Jesus in order to relieve some of the doubts he was having. Jesus reassured John's faith and even said that there was no one greater than John the Baptist. There is no doubt that Jesus loved this cousin of His. But He left him there. In his suffering, facing death. And He said, "Blessed is he who doesn't fall away on account of me."

In other words, "I'm going to do things that don't make any sense to you. There may be times that it seems like I've left you high and dry. But you will be BLESSED if you keep believing and trusting Me even in the darkness."

Jesus proved His love for me on the Cross. No circumstance in my life can ever change that. No matter how much pain I'm in or how confusing His ways may seem, His love is consistent. 

This morning as I listened to the words of that song with Karis in my arms and tears streaming down my face, I thought of how much has changed over the course of one year. From perhaps the darkest days of my life to the most joy-filled. My circumstances have been all over the map, but this one thing remains:

"Your love never fails, it never gives up, it never runs out on me."

My Joy Has Arrived

8 lbs 15 oz of pure perfection joined the world on Saturday morning at 9:01 AM. 

Our long awaited Karis Joy was welcomed into the thankful arms of her mommy and daddy after 15 hours of labor. This week has been a dream for me. I cannot stop staring at her. I can hardly force myself to set her down. I keep singing to her that David Crowder song that says, "You are my joy, you are my joy" over and over again. She is my gift of grace from God and it has filled my heart with JOY!

I knew from the time I woke up on Friday morning that I would probably give birth within the next 24 hours or so. I wasn't in active labor, but I could tell things were happening. I had already planned on going to breakfast with some very special friends, so I just set about my day with a little giddy excitement in my waddling steps.

Andy and I had planned on going on a date that night. We had already arranged for a babysitter to come and I decided that I didn't want to cancel. Contractions were getting more regular, but I knew this would be our last date for a while and labor could take hours. So we still went out and enjoyed our time. It was quite surreal timing contractions (about 7 minutes apart) and working out childcare details while we ate our dinner.

We came home a little early from our date so Andy could take the boys over to our friends' house. I'm a little neurotic about coming home to a clean house, so I put a few dishes in the dishwasher and straightened things up in between contractions (now about 5 minutes apart). Andy got home, laughed at me, and said "Go get in bed!" I obeyed, but you can tell by the picture below that I was still in early labor. I shot out a few texts to family and friends and posted a couple comments on social media.  

When my contractions were averaging about 4 minutes apart, I text my good friend Stacy. I had invited Stacy to be apart of our birth as she was going to take some video footage of our labor. The picture below cracks me up because it really sums up how I think she was feeling on the inside! She is young, single, never had children, and not very medically inclined. She was honored to be there and said it meant the world to her, but it definitely got her out of her comfort zone! (Btw, she never made this face in front of me. My friend, Kendall, snapped this photo when I wasn't around.)

My labor, which ramped up slowly over the course of the day, progressed slowly the whole time. I got really discouraged by this because my labor with Caedmon was 9 hours and I knew that Caedmon was bigger than what Karis would be. So in my mind, with it being a 2nd birth, 9 hours was the absolute longest my labor would last. Not so. 

We asked our doula to come around midnight when my contractions had been 3-4 minutes apart for a couple hours. I thought for sure that as soon as she got there, she'd say, "Oh, we should head to the hospital soon." Nope. She said, "I think we've still got a good bit of time." :-( What?! I'd been in active labor for over 6 hours. Surely the baby would be born within the next 3 hours. She must be wrong, right? Unfortunately, no.

We got to the hospital at 5am. I still had 4 more hours of work before I held my baby in my arms.

And, finally, the moment we'd all been waiting for. Karis Joy was here.

When her child is born, her anguish gives way to joy because she brought a new baby into the world.  John 16:21

That's the look of pure relief on my face.

The picture below is of my amazing doula, Tara, and my midwife, Lin, who literally saved my life. About 10 minutes after Karis was born, I started bleeding really heavily. Lin switched gears and, in an instant, the room went from a joyful celebration to an intense medical scene. 

For 5-10 minutes, Lin barked out orders, administered 3 different types of meds to me, and did all kinds of painful things to my body. Andy and others around me began to pray out loud and Tara looked at me and said, "Stay alert. Don't close your eyes." It was a pretty scary few minutes until they were able to get the bleeding under control. I don't think Andy's ever been more thankful for modern medicine than he was in that moment.

The drugs that they had to give me left me feeling pretty crummy for at least an hour afterwards. You can see by the look on my face below how out of it I felt.

This was my first good look at her face. Love at first sight.

My support team, cheering me on and celebrating with me.

That evening my friend, Lina, brought our boys up to the hospital to meet their baby sister. You can see how special it was for them.

First photo as a family of five.

I think Karis' birth was especially significant to Sammy. He is a very nurturing child and plays so well with younger children. Moving from the "little brother" role to the "big brother" role made him so happy. He loves to hold her.

Karis is so thoughtful that she planned ahead and had a couple gifts to give her brothers when they met her for the first time. She gave them each a Big Brother t-shirt and the game Blokus to share.

Andy and I got ready to head home about lunch time the next day. Even though the nurses treated us like royalty while we were there, I'm not one for hanging out in hospitals unless I have to.

Karis,

You could never understand what holding you in my arms means to me. As I type with one hand and cradle you with the other, my heart overflows. So many prayers. So many tears. So much waiting and hoping that one day we would have you. And now you're here.

"Thankful" does not even scratch the surface of how I feel. 

3 Things I Wish I Would Have Known 3 Years Ago- Part 3

Since recently celebrating Sammy's 3rd "Gotcha Day", I've been doing some reflection on just how far God has brought us over the past 3 years. Last week I shared with you two lessons I wish I had learned a little earlier in the process:

• When in doubt, error on the side of grace
• You should never judge how your adoption in going within the first 6 months of having your kids home. 

The final thing I wanted to share is:

• Love grows. 

Above all else, this was the issue that haunted me. More traumatizing than the sleep issues, more discouraging than the inconsolable tantrums... the thing that wrecked me the most was what was going on in my own heart.

From the moment I found out I was pregnant with Caedmon, I was in love. That love grew deeper and stronger with every movement I felt inside my growing belly and it about knocked me over like a tidal wave when I finally held him in my arms. The love of a mother...there is nothing like it.

Throughout our adoption process, I had been having a very parallel experience in my growing love toward Sammy. When we started our paperwork (conception), I could not have been more thrilled. Excitement and happiness pulsed through my veins. When we received his first picture (ultrasound), we showed it to every one of our friends and immediately put it in a frame over our TV. The day we finally met him was one of the happiest days of my life (birth). I could not stop staring at him and trying to memorize his every expression. He was my dream come true, my answer to prayer. I was head over heels in love.

But then we got home.

And suddenly I felt like I was taking care of a neighbor's kid who I hardly knew and he was ruining my life. He cried all day. He stayed up all night. My older son was falling to pieces. And everything about my calm and orderly life just got flipped upside down.

I cried because I was so miserable with him. And then I cried because I felt bad that I was so miserable. Where was my motherly-love? What kind of horrible person was I that I didn't feel compassion and tenderness for this wounded, grieving child? Would I ever love this child the way he deserved to be loved? As my own son?

The guilt that I felt was unbearable. I was pretty confident that I was ruining Sammy's life every single day, at increasing measures. I was blindsided by the lack of attachment I felt toward him. I knew it may take time for him to attach to us, but I was sure that my attachment would be immediate, fierce, and without any gaps.

I was wrong.

That love took time to grow. It took picnics to the playground and dance parties in our living room. It took hanging pictures of our family of four on the wall. It took learning that his favorite food is tomatoes and that he can't stand a grilled cheese sandwich. It took seeing him get embarrassed in front of his friends and realizing that my heart ached to protect him from that pain. It took time, memories, and shared experiences.

I remember crying on his 1 year "Gotcha Day" as I confessed to Andy, "I thought we'd be further than this." I thought, for sure, everything would feel normal and natural by the one year mark. To be sure, we had made a world of progress. But we still had progress to be made.

It is a layer by layer process. Some days you feel like you're getting no where, but then you look back over the past six months and realize that God continues to do a miraculous healing in all of your hearts. The old is gone, and the new has come. He is making ALL THINGS beautiful in His time.

At one of my lowest moments in the midst of my self-hatred and depression feeling like the worst mom in the world, God gave a verse. A life-line really. A promise to cling to that I could LOVE this precious little boy the way that he deserved to be loved regardless of what my feelings told me. My feelings would catch up later, but I knew what I could choose to do in that moment:

Dear children, let us love not with words or speech but with ACTIONS and in truth. This is how we know that we belong to the truth and how we set our hearts at rest in His presence: If our hearts condemn us, we know that God is greater than our hearts, and He knows everything.           1 John 3:18-20

I desperately needed my heart to be set at rest. I was filled to the brim with condemnation and guilt over my lack of emotional attachment to Sammy. And Jesus said to me, "I already know about it. I'm bigger than that. You can love him with your actions and I'll take care of your heart."

So today, if you are a parent and for whatever reason you're having a hard time feeling love toward your child, be encouraged that you can faithfully love him with your actions and God will transform your heart.

Give it time, because LOVE GROWS.

Five Years Ago today

Do you remember what you were doing 5 years ago today? I, for one, will never forget.

Andy and I had been separated for the better of two weeks as he left Caedmon & me in South Carolina to begin his cross country trek to California. He drove to Texas, loaded a U-Haul with all of our stuff that was in storage, and then drove that U-Haul (pulling a car) from Dallas to San Jose all by himself. In the week before Caedmon & I arrived, he was attempting to find/rent somewhere for us to live AND get moved in...all by himself! He was my hero.

August 26 was the day Caedmon & I were scheduled to arrive in San Jose. But after the computer system in Atlanta crashed causing a dreadful travel experience with an almost 2 year old, we finally made it on August 27. We were deliriously tired, but oh so excited to be HOME!

It was the strangest feeling. I had read books where missionaries said that when they landed in China or Ecuador or _______ that they felt like they were finally home. I never understood that until I landed in California. I had been raised all my life as a Southern Girl (capitalized on purpose as that term is a proper noun), but you would have thought I was born and bred for the Silicon Valley.

That season of our lives was so full of excitement and promise. God had given us a God-sized dream, and every day we were watching it unfold before our eyes. We knew no one when we landed here, but one friendship at a time, one cookout at a time, one playgroup at a time, God started forming a network of people who would become South Bay Church.

As I look back over the past 5 years, my heart is BURSTING with joy and gratitude for all that God has done. South Bay has grown from 3 families to over 1500 people in weekly attendance. We've seen hundreds of people surrender their lives to Jesus and find new life in Him. We've seen marriages restored, people begin to thrive as they use their gifts, and community grow.

We've watched our almost 2 year old grow into an almost 7 year old. We've journeyed through an adoption and had our hearts hijacked by a gorgeous Ethiopian little boy who is now our son. We've felt the indescribable strength and love of a community of faith as South Bay grieved with us in our miscarriage and cheered wildly when we announced our current pregnancy.

Sometimes people thank us for being willing to move here to start South Bay Church. But let me tell ya, it is pure JOY for us. While they thank us, we just thank Jesus that He brought us here. There is no where else we would rather be and nothing else we would rather be doing. What a privilege it is to serve the King!

Here's to the next 5 amazing years! (And the 5 after that, and the 5 after that, and the...)

Happy Birthday to my sister

From the time I was born, she was my best friend. She had 3 years on me, so she already knew her way around the world. She had so much to teach me.

Today is my sister's birthday. And there's nothing quite like the relationship two sisters can share.

She has a prominent place in every childhood memory. 

She was always so much more brave than me. I loved that about her.

She let me tag-a-long, even when having a younger sibling around wasn't ideal.

Cleaning a fish we caught in the lake. It was also on this trip that she convinced me that if you poop in the lake, it sinks. That is so NOT true!

My mom says that we would play together for hours, completely self-entertained. 

We rocked those white sweatshirts. 

Ah, the 80's... Don't miss the feathered bangs, pink socks & matching hair scrunchy.

Prom night for me. Attending a wedding for her.

We are serious about our dessert. It can be dangerous.

We loved a good road trip. Grand tour of the West with our parents in high school. Trip to the Florida/FSU game over Thanksgiving weekend. 10 days in Israel. A month in Venezuela. We were always at home if we were together.

Floating in the Dead Sea in Israel.

We're a good team. She is more fun. I am more funny. Together, we're always laughing. 

True to form, she went totally above and beyond to make my engagement special. She and Andy worked together to plan the most amazing surprises for me that night. She is one of the most thoughtful people I know...a scrapbook of our 10 month engagement, homemade purses, monogrammed burp cloths, planning special family vacations... and on, and on I could go. She is always thinking of creative and meaningful ways to express love to others.

She now has FIVE (count them, 5!) boys ages 7 and under. Although that's a formula to test the sanity of any person, she has never been more full of grace. She loves and laughs her way through motherhood, albeit with a tear here and there as well. All that practice she had nurturing me as a child is going to good use!

Instead of sharing a room like we opted to do most of our childhood, we now live about as far apart as two people can and still be in the continental US. Our road trips these days are in minivans with a kid's DVD on in the background. Our phone conversations typically last 5-10 minutes while one of us is driving from one place to another and most are ended with a child screaming and an abrupt, "I gotta go," click. But we get to journey through these years as moms with young kids together. We still understand each other in ways that few can relate. Our times together and heart-level conversations are all the more cherished because they are all the more rare. 

Of all the wonderful gifts that God has given me in this life, 

having Stephanie as my sister has got to be close to the top. 

Feliz Cumpleanos, Hermana. Te amo mucho!

"There is no better friend than a sister. There is no better sister than you."