a song to live by

i'm the child of a good man
and the child of an angel
i'm the sister of a wild one
and i'm looking for direction

i'm the lover of a hottie
i'm the mother of two blessings
i'm the singer of a love song
but is that all i'm good for?

this is who i am, oh this is who i am
so take me and make me something so much more
this is who i am, oh this is who i am
so change me and make me someone better than before

i'm a saint and a sinner
i'm a lover and a fighter
i'm a true believer
with great desire

i'm a preacher of grace
prophet of love, teacher of truth
i've fallen down so many times
but here i stand in front of You

this is who i am, oh this is who i am
so take me and make me something so much more
this is who i am, oh this is who i am
so change me and make me someone better than before

take me as i am
but please don't leave me that way
'cause i know that You can
make me better than i am today

by third day...with a few of my own liberties

clean your mouth out with soap!

i got a physical today. haven't had one in five years. it was kind of a disaster.

i got called back after a forty-five minute wait and stepped on the scale. i looked at the number (which shall not be named). i asked if i could remove my scarf. and my shoes. and my light jacket. the number didn't actually decrease...at all. i checked to see if maybe the nurse was standing on the scale with me. she wasn't.

fast-forward to the whole doctor/patient discussion time. we talked about my stress level (it's a tiny bit high). we talked about my coping mechanisms of trying to handle it all myself, not talk to anyone about my feelings, and act like everything is ok (apparently these aren't acceptable?). we talked about how my shoulders and neck are so tense and knotted up that my hands fall asleep regularly throughout the day (it's called "pressure neuropathy").

and then he said a terrible thing: you need to exercise.

there aren't a whole lot of things i hate doing more than i hate exercising. treadmills make me testy. ellipticals make me edgy. zumba makes me zany. and those tiny little girls in tiny little outfits? i can't handle it. i hate walking. i loathe running. i don't like being hot. if i had thought i could get away with it when he said it, i would have stomped my foot and made a "hmmmph" sound.

but supposedly exercise (i choke on the word) is necessary. so cue the rock music...charge up the ipod...let's break out those tennis shoes.

it's time to relax. it's time to deal. it's time to get skinny. er.

so nice to meet you

on my way to work this morning, i saw a bumper sticker that proudly proclaimed, "i like sin". to the side of this bold statement was an imprint of a lipstick-stained kiss. i was disgusted. i made a face. and then the Holy Spirit and i had a "come to Jesus" conversation. literally.

i should preface this with the explanation that when God talks to me, i hear Him in a voice very similar to how i would talk to me, or sometimes a voice like my dad would talk to me. so this morning (after i made my face at the bumper sticker, but before i had the chance to start feeling all holy and mighty), God said, "really little pot? let me introduce you to the kettle."

i am not so brave as to affix such a bumper sticker to my car, but i think most days, my life declares that same kind of audacity. all of ours do, some more often than others. when i make choices that are in direct contrast to the word of God, when i see the proverbial red light and keep going anyway...i may as well be yelling to the world, and to my God, "i like sin!"

you're probably thinking, "that's awful! no Christian would ever say that!" but we do. every day. we say it when we do what we shouldn't. we say it when we don't do what we should. we say it when our hearts get hard and our intentions become muddied by our true selves. we like sin. why else would we do things to separate ourselves from our Creator? why else would He have had to send His only Son to die for us, to pay the price? He paid the price for my sin. sure, He did it out of love, but i can't even begin to imagine the pain i cause Him when i continually declare "i love sin" with my life, the life that Jesus died for me to have.

thank God for His grace. thank God for His forgiveness. Lord, help me declare "i love Jesus!" with my life.

comfort food

1 john 3:20-24 says that God is greater than my heart, that He knows everything, and that i can come into His presence without fear. it says that He abides in me. there is so much here to hold onto, just in these few verses.

abide is a great word. we don't use it very much in our everyday language. it means to remain, to continue, to stay. it means to wait for, to suffer for, to endure, sustain, to withstand without yielding or submitting. it means to remain steadfast and faithful. and the Holy Spirit has chosen to abide in me. whoa.

i've been chewing on that for a week or so. it's from last sunday's sermon, but our pastor loves the word abide and he points it out anytime it pops up in scripture. i have also become a fan of this word and what it means in my life. it means i'm not alone. it means that when the war rages inside of me, when my doubts climb higher than my hope, when the shadows consume...He is there with me. He loves me. He holds me. nothing enters my life that He doesn't cause or allow. the ebb and flow of joy and sorrow is only meant to draw me closer to Him, to make me more like Him. and through it all, the God of the universe abides in me. unbelievable!

as for the rest of those verses...well that's just icing on the cake. because He abides in me, lives in me, is with me constantly, my heart and thoughts and feelings are all subject to His power. my free will gets me into some messes of course, but He is there is all of that too. He is greater than my heart and He knows everything. there is nothing that i feel, no pain that i bear, no sadness that creeps in that He doesn't know about. He is greater. He is greater than all of it.

and the fact that i can come into His presence without fear? amazing. i am so undeserving. i doubt Him. i try to run my own life. i think i know better. i am sinful. i let fear rule the day. i let easy win over hard. all while He abides....waiting for me to come to Him, waiting for me to ask for His hand, for His will in my life.

all i have to do is lay it down. i lay it all down.

my prayer

if i saw You on the street
and You said come and follow Me
but i had to give up everything
all i once held dear and all of my dreams

would i love You enough to let go?
or would my love run dry
when You asked for my life?

if You're all You claim to be
then i'm not losing anything
so i will crawl upon my knees
just to know the joy of suffering
i will love You enough to let go

Lord, i give You my life
i give You my life

when did love become unmoving?
when did love become unconsuming?
forgetting what the world has told me
Father of love, You can have me

i want to be where You are
i'm running into Your arms
i will never look back
so Jesus, here is my heart

Father of love, You can have me

-lyrics by sidewalk prophets

perspective

even when the rain falls
even when the flood starts rising
even when the storm comes
i am washed by the water

-lyrics by need to breathe

making progress

we're this close (insert mental image of two fingers held very close together)! we have all but one little piece of paper filled out of our adoption forms, i have to get a physical, and then we'll be done with phase one of adoptionextravaganza! i feel like it has taken us a long time to get it all together, but we have taken our time and done things at a pace that was necessary for us emotionally. it feels good to be so nearly done but it's also a little scary. once we complete these last two steps, we will have three interviews and a home visit before we will officially be on "the list".

we are working on the nursery-to-be little-by-little. jeremy put the crib together a few days ago (and checked to make sure the part that holds the mattress was level...in fourteen different places...he's so stinkin' cute), i have started painting (it's "wet pavement" gray...trust me, it's going to be great), and my mom is coming in a couple of days to help me with a project or two. we're trying to do enough to feel like we are doing enough without going nuts and getting our hopes up too high.

this is all such a roller-coaster ride of emotions. some days i am so sad, some days i am excited, some days i am terrified, and some days i am just blah. i prefer a bit more consistency in my life, but that's apparently not in the works just yet.

trust, trust, trust...i am trying, Lord. thank You for the blessings, the light that chases away the dark long enough to catch my breath. thank You for hugs, allen wrenches, moms who say yes, friends and family who text just because, a husband who understands, dads that stop by, in-laws who ask and are patient, and "i love you". i am so blessed and i know there is a plan. we'll get there, wherever "there" is.

thanks for asking

i haven't written in a while about how we are doing in dealing with trying to conceive and adopt; many of you have asked, and i haven't been very forthcoming about all the details and emotions of it. this is the best i can do.

we are good, but it's hard. that's the simple answer. the truth is much more complicated, of course.

there's no rule book for how this is supposed to go. there are no guidelines, no ten commandments of how to grieve loss and how to move on with hope without forgetting the past (actually, there kind of are...in God's Word... but they are not quite as specific as i would like for them to be sometimes). and so, despite being blessed beyond measure, i struggle.

i believe in life at conception. period. i believe the two babies that i have never met are in heaven with Jesus. period. i feel loss because they are not here. i can't explain that completely, but i love them, and i miss them. and that is hard. sometimes i feel like i should be completely over it all by now, but i'm not, and that's just the way it is.

we aren't pregnant. we wish we were. we are trying to be. and that's hard. i know in my head that it is all so very much beyond my control (which also thankfully means that it isn't my fault), but the way i feel is very different from what i know. i feel like i am letting my husband and family down. i feel like i am failing. there are a lot of options out there for people like us. there are medicines, herbs, tricks to try, and a boatload of procedures. some of them we are trying. some of them we are not. some of them we are still thinking about. all of our decisions are being made after prayer and much thought, consideration, and conversation. we are doing what feels right to us. and we will keep doing that until we are successful or until we can't do it anymore. this is a "God thing"; it's in His hands.

if i am honest, despite my beliefs in God's ability to work a miracle in our lives, i don't have a lot of hope for conception to work out. but that doesn't lessen my desire and it doesn't mean that we aren't still trying. i am afraid. i am sad. but i am not giving up. it hurts too much to talk about how badly we want to conceive. it hurts too much to go into detail about all the fears i have about the future if that happens. it is more than i can handle to delve into the what-if's, the maybe's, and the if-only's. so i don't. i don't talk about it a lot. i just can't do it. it's easier to pretend that it's all ok. it hurts to answer well-meaning questions. it hurts to hear advice from people who love us. it hurts to hear opinions, even when they are helpful. i can't explain that either, but that's just the way it is right now. so i avoid the conversations sometimes. or i give the easy answers that everyone wants to hear.

in the middle of it all is the beautiful hope of adoption. this, too, is hard, but it is a comfort to me. we don't know for sure that it will work out the way we hope, but in this situation, i do have more hope. it's not that it's easier (it isn't), or that it is a guarantee of us having a child (it's not). that's not why we have chosen that route. it's certainly not cheaper and it has its own set of complications and difficulties. but for us, adoption is also a "God thing". we feel led to walk this path. i have said that before, but it is good to remind myself of it. we hope to turn our paperwork in this month and begin the home study process. whatever the timing, we want the baby that God has chosen for us. in whatever way that is going to come to be. if it's not through adoption, then He will show us that. if it is, then He will continue to work in that way. if His plan is for us to not have a child, then He will pick up the pieces, as He is doing today, and He will put us back together.

until we have answers, i am doing the best i can. some days i cope better than others. am i handling it all the right way? maybe, maybe not. i don't know if there is a "right" way. i am handling it my way, the best i know how. i know it's not always effective. some of my strategies are steeped in self-preservation. some of them are just a way to deal with the pain. a lot of them are simply my response to fear and to sadness. it's not that i feel a need to have control of the situation (clearly, i don't actually have any semblance of control), but it's hard to know what to do in the interim time of trusting. it's hard to know what to do with the feelings. it's hard to know how to respond to people. sometimes it's hard to even articulate to myself how i feel.

that's how i am. that's where we are in the process.
we are good. but it's hard.