Meaning of a Name

I'm sure it seems that I have fallen off the planet.

I haven't!  Instead, I have been elbows deep in all things baby. Bottles, burp cloths, diapers, pumping, wipes, bathtime, spit up, naps, coos, smiles, nursing, wiggles, toots, etc. All the things that make up the bliss of having a baby.

Most of the time, I feel like my brain is scattered as the many burp cloths and baby gadgets that are usually strewn around our house these days. I can't tell you how many times I've thought I replied to messages only to find hours or days - yes, days - later, that no such reply was typed but instead I responded in my head. It takes me a whole day to plan a menu and write a grocery list. It takes days to process laundry. All day last Friday, I legitimately thought it was Thursday! I've got at least 3 craft projects waiting to be started.

But I wouldn't trade any of this blessed chaos! In the middle of it all, it occurred to me that I never wrote about how Camden's name was chosen for her.

Daniel and I both felt very strongly about giving our little one a name with a positive meaning. It's a huge responsibly, this naming-your-kid thing. A name is spoken frequently throughout each day, so we felt like the words spoken over our child should be ones that would fill them with truth. I'm a big believer that the words we choose to speak can bring about life or death. I haven't always chosen my words wisely, but I have every intention to speak love and truth through my words into the hearts and lives of each of our children. So even in the early stages of my pregnancy, we began to toss around ideas for what we might choose for a name.

We scheduled an early gender ultrasound to be performed when I was 16 weeks pregnant. Weeks prior to this, I had a very vivid dream of a beautiful baby boy - a carbon copy of Daniel's baby pictures, but with blonde hair. We were convinced we were having a son! We quickly chose a name and settled into the idea of having a baby boy. But just in case, we spent weeks throwing around different names for a girl. We considered Isobel but soon realized how prevalent was that name. We thought about Blythe, but close friends had dibs and a much better reason behind the choice! I loved Mae, but quickly changed my mind when I learned that Mae meant "bitter."

The night before the ultrasound,  I was having some quiet time. As I relaxed in the quiet, rubbing my bump and dreaming about meeting our child, I began to weep with overwhelming love for this precious life. I began talking to baby, and speaking truths. I declared how great was our love, that baby was prayed for, sought after, pursued, and wanted. I declared good things over this life: that baby would know intimacy with God and receive His love. That baby would be a fierce warrior for the Kingdom, and be a light of God to those around. And I prayed. I asked God for my child's salvation, and began to thank Him over and over for giving us this beautiful,  perfect gift.

Then I was still in the quiet and peace of God. And in the quiet, God spoke.

He said, "In the valley is where I met you."

?

Quickly, He explained Himself. I had been so filled with peace and joy with each step of my pregnancy that the pain of the pit and the intensity of our journey through the valley had started to feel like a distant memory. He took me back.  He helped me remember the many nights I cried out to Him, begging Him to heal my womb and fill it with life. He reminded me of the moments I wondered if we would ever be able to conceive and carry more children. He brought back to me the deep longing I felt to be a mother.

He took me back to a raw conversation I had with one of my very best friends after our first miscarriage where I was bemoaning being in a valley. I wanted to be back on top of the mountain, looking down at a beautiful view. I wanted to be done with the valley.

My dear friend, in that moment, spoke the voice of God through her human mouth. She explained that a valley was not so bad; they are generally found resting between two mountains. The grass is soft and green, the soil rich. Altogether, a valley is teeming with life.

I began to weep with thankfulness at the memory. And then, God repeated,  "In the valley is where I met you, and where I brought you to life."

The next moment is somewhat difficult to explain. I heard the name Camden, specifically for a girl, and then felt a very strong sense that I was carrying Camden. My hand was resting on my belly and I felt/heard/knew: This is Camden.

The night turned to morning then to afternoon, and we were on our way to learn the identity of our babe! In my excitement,  I had forgotten about the events of the night before. When we arrived, we talked with the ultrasound tech about my pregnancy and how we felt like we were having a son. Not even two minutes into the procedure, she asked if we were ready to find out. Of course we were!

She said, "You're having a girl!"

..........

"Oh!"

..........

"How sure are you?"

"I'm very sure."

"If you had to give it a percentage, where would it fall?"

"I would say 99.99% sure."

"Oh man, I'm ruined!" (says Daniel)

And I cried, so thankful to know I was getting a daughter! Daniel quickly realized he was already wrapped.

Afterward as we talked through our giddiness,  it dawned on me what God had shared the previous night. As it all began to fall into place, I fumbled through explaining everything to Daniel. We were having a girl. God gave me a name for a girl. God gave me memories and what seemed like a completely separate revelation of His goodness.

Daniel asked me what the meaning of Camden was. When we looked it up, we found ourselves completely speechless.

Camden meant from the winding valley.

WHAT?!?!

It couldn't be.. No way... is this, is this real life?

I was 100% on board. Daniel, on the other hand, being completely bombarded with the craziness, needed a bit more convincing. He later shared that he asked God to give Him a little more information on this one.

On our way home, an SUV passed us that had an advertisement on the rear window that said "Cambria."

Okay, well. That's the first 3 letters. Maybe a little more?

A little bit later, we were sitting in our car in the Michael's parking lot. I was doing some price comparisons on items needed for the gender reveal party we were planning, so Daniel was just looking around outside. A mini cooper parked beside us, on which was a decorative emblem: Camden.

Again - WHAT?!?!

Not to be confused with chance, God gave us another one later that night. I was browsing Pottery Barn Kids and came across a wall decal. The name used? Yep, you guessed it! Camden.

Daniel promptly patted my belly and said, "Hey, Camden!"

How flipping cool is our God?!

How beautiful that he chose to give our gorgeous girl a name that would boast of His faithfulness? When we speak her name, we are reminded of the many ways God answered our prayers. I cannot wait for the day when we are able to share with our girl how she came to be.  I can't wait to for her to understand just how desperately we wanted her, how much we love her. I can't wait to see her eyes light up when we tell her that she is a perfectly timed gift given by her perfect Father, and given a name by Him whose meaning points right back to His glory.

We are believing big things for Camden! She has been anointed by God to bring joy, something she has done from the first moment of her little life. I believe she will love and lead people, and be a force for God's mighty Kingdom. God has a great plan for Camden, and my prayer is that Daniel and I do everything in our power to lift her up to whatever calling God places on her life. We pray that the love we show her makes it easy for her to accept God's perfect love.

As I transform my thoughts into text, I sit and watch the rise and fall of my daughter's chest as she sleeps. I see her life before me, and am reminded all over again what a good, good Father I have. What a tremendous gift, to be able to share with you the tangible answers to our prayers! May you, wherever you are in life, have faith to believe God for all that He has promised you. He will deliver, and it will be better than anything you have dreamed.

You're a good good Father

It's who You are, it's who You are, It's who You are

And I'm loved by You

It's who I am, It's who I am, It's who I am

Housefires II

Thank you, Jesus, for the work you are doing. We praise You!

Jehovah Rapha: The Lord that Heals

It is in Exodus 15 that God identifies Himself as healer to His people. Moses had just led the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt. At this point, all the people are celebrating; dancing and singing praises to God who swept Pharaoh and his chariots into the sea. They are rejoicing in being saved! Soon thereafter, Moses led the people away from the Red Sea into the wilderness of Shur, where there was no water to drink. They eventually made it to Marah, where there was water, but it was too bitter to drink. And as we see over and over again throughout the old testament, the Israelites take their eyes off the power of the Almighty, look at their circumstance, and begin to complain. When Moses speaks to God on their behalf, He comes. Not only does He make the water sweet and capable of being consumed, but He speaks to His people in Exodus 15:26: "..If you will diligently listen to the voice of the Lord your God, and do that which is right in his eyes, and give ear to his commandments and keep all his statutes, I will put none of the diseases on you that I put on the Egyptians, for I am the Lord, your healer." (emphasis mine)

There it is. I am the Lord. I am your healer.

I do not have to look very far to know this is true of my Father. I can look at lives around me and see clearly how God has transformed and redeemed so many different situations. I can even look at my life and the many ways He has kept His hand on me, healing every step of the way. Regrettably, I don't always see His healing for what it is. I often take God's credit and give it to something else. But, He is teaching me how to praise Him for the healing that He does, even when it doesn't make any sense.

A few weeks ago, the youth group at our church had just finished up their summer camp. Several students shared stories of what God had done in their lives during that week. One student, a junior in high school, shared with us that he had been battling lung cancer and with that, bitterness toward God. That week, God reminded Him that He wasn't finished with his life and gave this student a renewed energy for living. As a church, we prayed over him and asked God to heal. Two weeks later, he was brought back up on stage to tell us that at his recent appointment, they discovered that his cancer, which was covering 50% of his lung, had shrunk down to only 1/8 of his lung. Can you say, HALLELUHJER?!

It was through this young man's story that God spoke to me, beckoning me to share the glory of His healing in my own life. Our story of healing in regards to being able to have children has played out publicly through this blog, but I have left out a major part of my story. I have touched on it, yes, but I have not fully gone there. To "go there" would be hard. It would be painful. It would mean I lay down my pride completely, opening up my heart in a way I've never done.

Today I'm going there. And I am so super happy to do it.

I struggled with anxiety and depression for 11 years of my life.

It started when I was 13 years old. That gloriously awkward age when all your hormones go INSANE, your body does really weird things, and you start to think you have all the answers to life because, obviously, you are so grown up now.


For me, the age of thirteen was very chaotic. Both internally and externally, there were a lot of changes taking place in my life. These changes, in a way, catapulted me into a season of depression. I started to feel very heavy every day, like there was a weight on my shoulders I couldn't really shake. I began to feel all emotion on a deeper level, the main emotions being bitterness and anger. I started to look at myself in a new, very critical way: damaged, unlovable, ugly. I began to compare myself to those around me, like most young girls do, but it soon consumed my mind. Within months, I was convinced that I was completely worthless. One night in my room, I took a razor blade in my hand, and with tears flowing, decided I was just going to end it right there. My hands were shaking so hard that I accidentally cut my finger instead. When I saw the blood, enough logic stepped in and snapped me back into reality.

Though I realized I didn't really want to end my life, I was far from better. I had so much anger, bitterness, and pain coiled up so tightly within that living every day felt like work. Going to school was horrible. I felt unhappy all the time, and begin to work very hard at concealing all of this. So, I began to put my "fake jacket" on. I'd wear it hoping nobody could see the pain boiling just below the surface. Even though I felt different, I didn't want anyone to see these things. For the next 5 years, I explored many different outlets to ease my pain, all of which centered around the attitude that I was worthless, my life didn't matter, and my body didn't matter.

By the time I was 18, I had (amazingly) graduated from high school and Jesus had saved my life. (You can read my testimony here.) Though I was finally able to see that I was far from worthless, all those intense emotions were still right there, completely unresolved. By the time I was 20, I had met Daniel and we were preparing to be married. It was only a few weeks before our wedding, in a moment of crying out desperately to God, that He revealed to me something I never thought possible: I was angry with Him. There were so many parts of me that remained locked in chains of bitterness, and I had never once realized that all of that bitterness could be directed at my Father.

I didn't know what to do with that information, though, so everything went forward as planned. We got married in November of 2009, I worked my last day at my job in December, and in January I was a full-time student and wife. In such a season of good things and so many blessings, I found myself completely lost. Not only had I brought in all the baggage from years of unresolved issues into my marriage, but I was suddenly dealing with an identity crisis. I was twenty years old and somebody's wife, and completely and utterly overwhelmed. "Should I dress differently now that I'm married?" I asked myself. What am I supposed to cook? What cleaning products am I supposed to use? How do I decorate a house? It all sounds so silly, but every bit of it overwhelmed me and again, I found myself in a depression.

Inwardly, I was still drowning in negative emotion. I was still broken from old wounds whose scars were very deep, wounds both self-inflicted and inflicted upon me by others. I was hurting, and I still hated myself. I still saw myself as that worthless, weak girl who couldn't get her act together. There was a darkness, a heaviness, that clinged to me. It spread in every part of my mind, taking over like a virus. My soul was deeply hurting from the intensity of anger toward my Father. I would find myself thinking while driving sometimes, "I could just turn this wheel sharply and end all this." Outwardly, I would deal with it two ways: I would either completely shut down emotionally or lash out in anger. If my husband would try to get me to open up, I would usually tell him without an ounce of emotion to leave me alone because I "didn't care." If he would ask me gently if I had been reading God's word, I would literally scream at him. The beginning of his marriage to me was terrifying. He was confused, concerned. The opinionated, passionate, sassy, and sometimes a little kooky woman he had married was nowhere to be found. He thought he had been duped, and rightfully so. I was a completely different person.

Some days, he would come home from work and find me still in bed. He walked on eggshells, not knowing which version of me he was coming home to every day. As much as he persisted in trying to understand me, I was even more confused by my state. I didn't know who I was. Finally, one day after he came home, I opened up to him and told him all that was happening within. I told him how much I hated myself, how I didn't want to live anymore; life was too much, too hard. I was too much to handle and it wasn't fair to him to be stuck in a marriage to me.

Somewhere around this time frame, we joined a homegroup which helped me tremendously. It forced me out of my bubble and helped me realize that I was not the only person with issues; we all have them. Though I still didn't really know how to handle all the unresolved issues, I did slip out of the depression. And right by my side, every step of the way, was my husband. When the world would have given him permission to leave, he stayed. When I begged him to leave me, he told me he wasn't going anywhere. When I was too much for myself to handle, he held me tightly in his arms. When I hated myself, he loved me.

Through his selflessness, something clicked: If my husband, an imperfect human who sins and falls short, can love me like this, how much more must a perfect God love me?

Over the next few years, I began to learn more and more about just how much God loved me. I was still struggling almost daily, still learning how to accept myself, but I was beginning to open my heart to God who wanted to make me new. I still had not established my identity as being in Christ alone, so when we lost our first baby in miscarriage in February of 2012, I found myself in another season of depression. I had obtained my college degree but didn't feel called to a career. I had put my identity in becoming a mother, so when we lost our child, I felt like I had no purpose. In my limited mind, having a baby seemed like the perfect and appropriate next step in life. Quickly, I found my happiness diminished, snuffed out by the current circumstance I was in. I felt like I had taken two steps forward and five steps back, and was very hard on myself. I offered myself no grace and had no idea how to accept God's.

I had struggled for years believing that I was a weak, terrible person, someone who couldn't get her life together like everyone around her. When I became a Christian, in a lot of ways those thoughts got worse. I felt like a sub-par Christian; how could I have been given life by God but still hate who I was? Why couldn't I be normal? Why was I so messed up? But this time, something different was going on: God made me aware of His presence with me in the fire I was in. Not only was I completely drained and tired of going through seasons of depression like this, but I realized my Father did not want me to live in this place. He wanted me freed from my chains. He had died to give me life, and in doing so poured out His grace lavishly upon me. He was working His hardest to position me where I could receive these things fully and be free. In a lot of ways, He was trying to get me out of my own way so that He could move freely.

He placed people in my life that pointed me to Him over and over again. He brought an accountability relationship into my life which constantly spoke truth through my pain. He positioned me as a nanny where I observed a Godly family doing life and whispered to my heart through that time. He provided a godly counselor whom I met with for several months. He gave Daniel a strength and endurance to walk beside me without giving up on me, even though at times I made it very hard on him. Through all of these things, He began to chip away each thick layer of bitterness in my heart. He began to break chain after chain after chain that I didn't even know I was bound by. He began to free my mind of thinking I was weak, but instead merely a broken child in a need of a healing Father. But mostly, He loved me when I didn't know how to love myself.

During the season I was in counseling, my ever-diligent husband began to heavily research my emotional and physical symptoms. Through the information he found, we made the decision for me to start taking several herbal supplements that would balance out my hormones. In reality, we were focusing more on trying to conceive naturally than on my mental healing, but God's plans prevailed regardless of where our hearts were. I began to take several supplements at the same time I was seeing my counselor. Within weeks of taking them, we both saw a discernible difference in my overall emotional state. Where before I was always on edge, always feeling overwhelmed and on the verge of a breakdown, now I felt a calm settle over me. Before I lacked patience and would snap quickly at little, insignificant things. Now, the little things that so bothered me before barely affected me. I was beginning to feel a lightness that I had not experienced for years.

As God led us back to the fertility doctors in November of 2013, I was finally feeling a peace that I had searched for and yearned to have for years. We trusted God in following our doctor's plans and had several tests administered. But we realized: to move forward in attempting to get pregnant, I would need to stop taking the herbal supplements that I credited to making me better. I found myself terrified that I would slip right back into the darkness that had consumed me for years, but we knew this was where God was leading, so we took a step of faith. In December, I was pregnant. I had to stop taking the supplements due to lack of studies on whether or not they are safe in pregnancy. I was a little on edge, worrying I would wake up one day and feel the heaviness again.

I didn't. I haven't, for even a single day since going off the supplements. That which I had credited to my healing deserved no credit. The truth finally dawned on me: God had healed me. Psalm 118:5 says, "In my anguish I cried to the Lord, and he answered by setting me free."

God. Had. HEALED ME!!!!! He had set me free!

There was no longer a dark cloud looming over my life. There was no longer a tangible heaviness in my chest, anxiety restricting me. There was not a weight on my shoulders upon waking. I was no longer waiting for something to go wrong, for everything to fall apart. For the first time in over eleven years, I felt excited about each new day. I had hope. I had peace. And for the first time in a long time, I felt a joy settle into my soul, a thirst for life and to live fully, expectantly of the good God would do.

And when circumstances around me began to crumble as we learned of my mother's decline in health, for the first time my resolve did not crumble with it. For the first time, I was allowing God's grace to be sufficient for me.

Y'all. This is God!!! This is Jehovah Rapha! He is the Lord that HEALS! None of the ways I've been healed can be credited to anything but God. I am still finding myself overwhelmed by how much He loves, how good of a Father He is. When He shows Himself to me, I can't help but be made aware of how desperately I still do and will always need His healing, peaceful presence in my every day life. I can look with joyful anticipation to the birth of our daughter any day now, knowing that while life will be overwhelming in the season of new parenthood, it will NOT consume me because God's healing is more powerful than our circumstance. I have seen His faithfulness and I cannot and do not want it to be unseen or forgotten. And, I can't help but want to shout on the rooftop of the tallest building that GOD IS GOOD!! I want to look and sound like a crazy person if it means God gets glory!

If you are reading this, I don't know your story. I don't know of your pain, your struggles, the areas of your life that you may be bound by chains. But God does. Your perfect Father does. He sees you, every part of you. He knows you. He created you and he loves you wholly. He is not only capable of doing so, but He wants to heal you. He desperately wants you to be free of whatever it is that holds you back. I beg you: Let Him come. Let your Father in to mend your broken heart. Let Him love you.

Oh, Jehovah Rapha. My Jesus, my healer. Thank you. Thank you for the work you are doing all around us. We praise You!

Perfect Sustainer

I've already walked over some pretty rough terrain in my 25 years of life. This is not a point of boasting but simply a stated fact. I've already experienced loss, several times over. The pain of loss goes deep and therefore, takes time to heal. When you've experienced enough of it, there is this false sense of confidence that is formed within you; confidence that you know what to expect should it happen again. The reality is, nothing could be further from the truth.

I have this funny habit of saving nearly every voicemail someone leaves me. Even appointment reminder messages from my doctor. Weird, right? The appointment reminder messages make me laugh every time, because they are literally 3 minutes long. How come it takes three minutes to remind someone they have an appointment?! Daniel and I always laugh at this.

A while back, after receiving one of those reminders, I saved it so Daniel could hear for himself. When I had logged into my voicemail, Mrs. Automated Voicemail Voice says, "You have no new messages. You have 17 saved voice messages." Daniel heard this and said, "Seventeen?! Babe. You need to clean out your messages!"

I finally did that this morning, so go me! Of course, because I save nearly all messages, there are some from several months ago. As I was sorting through them, I found one from my mom, just a week or two after she was moved into assisted living. Hearing her voice, spoken so clear, nearly broke me.

That is when I realized that "confidence" I thought I had in dealing with loss and the tough things of life has been shattered like a dainty glass vase. I am in no way prepared to deal with the loss of my mother. Though she has not yet departed her physical body, in so many ways I say goodbye to a piece of her each time I visit.

I have so many worries, fears, anxieties in this season of my life. As ridiculously excited as I am about the coming birth of our little one, I am pretty much scared out of my mind about the fact that she has to come out, in one way or another. No joke. If I think about it too long, I go deer-in-a-headlight.

And then I think of my mom, and I'm worried she will never get to hold her first grandchild. I'm worried that if she does live past the birth of Camden, will she be aware enough to know who we are, who Camden is. I worry about saying goodbye to her. How am I supposed to do that? How am I supposed to lay the body of my mother in the earth, knowing I will never see her again this side of eternity? How do I let go?

A few nights ago, God spoke. He spoke to these and all other areas of fear, worry, and anxiety I feel right now.

Romans 11:36 reads, "For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be glory forever. Amen."

How quickly I forget in the midst of my fickle, overrun emotion that God is HERE! Moreover, every aspect of this time is governed by my sovereign Father.

As I read that verse, God gave me a picture of swimming in a pool. Specifically, the moment of impact as you jump into the deep end of the pool as a child. I can't speak for you, but for me there was a rush of thrilling excitement at jumping off the diving board coupled with fear that the shark I just knew was living in the deep end was on it's way to eat me as I shot through the water. I knew I needed to get to the surface - and fast! Not out of the pool, mind you. Just to the surface.

Anyway.

I thought of those seconds below water, when you are kicking as hard as your legs are able in order to break through. I was not an eye-opener in water, so for me, those seconds were blind. I had a general sense of the direction, yes, but I had no way of knowing how far away I was from the surface. I was a nose-holder, too, so I only had one arm to work with in getting out. In those short few seconds that always felt like much longer, the water completely surrounds. The only thing holding it back from filling your lungs is your tightly pursed lips and the ability to discern not to breath in through your nose. There is no escape from water. It fills every crevice it surrounds, pushing against every inch of you.

The same is true of living in a place of fear and worry. Those emotions surround you completely. It is hard to know where you are headed when every part of you is focused on the depth of those emotions. You can't breathe, or they might fill you even further. You kick as hard as you can, but the strength of the resistance is real. It may take a few moments to break out of that state, but those moments, while you are experiencing them, feel like an eternity.

But what of the exact second you feel your head finally break the surface of the water? You shoot up like a rocket from the power of your kicking legs and finally open your mouth to take in the sweet, fresh air all around you. The expanse is limitless. Just as you were completely surrounded by water below, you are completely surrounded by air above. You can breathe in and breathe out with ease. There is plenty of air to fill your lungs, plenty of life to breathe.

This is life lived in a place of trust in God and belief in His word. For from him and through him and to him are all things. Not some, but all things. This is life lived in knowing He holds everything in His hands and refusing to try to take it into ours in our false sense of control. My false sense of confidence. There is so much room for freedom here! The expanse of His peace is limitless.

It is in this knowledge that I want to walk forward. I don't have to have answers to my many questions. And really, when I think about it, knowing that my Father has all of this in His loving hands makes me realize this: I won't really need answers. He will give me strength as I need, peace as I need, hope as I need. When the time comes to say hello to my daughter, He will carry me through. When the time comes to say goodbye to Mom, He will carry me. While I wait for these moments, I'll be sustained by Him. And all the while, He'll be glorified for being the good and perfect Father that He is.

Thank you Jesus, for the work You are doing. We praise You!

The Father's Love Lessons

Where we focus our attention determines the attitude we have.

I'm starting to catch on that this is a lesson God really, really wants me to learn. He wants me to understand that even in a heavy, dark place, His light will shine and permeate the dark. That when I feel unable to handle the situation I am in, His presence will carry me.

I believe within the deepest part of me that as our Father, God desires that His children would walk in freedom. That in spite - even because of - our circumstance, we can live each moment of our days in the peace that walking with God provides.

I'm learning that this requires something of us, though. It requires that we fight to focus our attention on Jesus every step of the way. "Fight" may seem like a strong verb to use, but if you've been through a pit of life or are currently in one, you know that it absolutely takes a warrior heart to, yes, fight against each and every circumstance that attempts to steal our attention from God. It is the troubles of life in general - sickness, loss, stress, everyday worries - that so fiercely steal our focus if we let them. The things that aren't fitting into our plans and the situations that hit us hard when we least expect them are what capture our attention in a heartbeat. We can get so bogged down in the trouble that every bit of our attention is placed on those things instead of God, and as a result, our attitude falters.

Maybe we begin to look inward, focusing on how the trouble is negatively impacting us and internally naming all the ways this trouble is messing up our plans. Possibly, our attitude toward others changes, our attention focused on one's shortcomings or struggles. Perhaps our attitude toward God begins to change. We begin to doubt that in the midst of our trouble, He is doing a good thing, our trust in Him momentarily faltering.

I have, without a doubt, struggled in each of these areas. I'm struggling even now, fighting to keep my eyes focused on Jesus in this newest season of life's trouble, trying to understand the enigma that is God's timing.

I'm having to learn how to say goodbye to my mother, watching as her mind slips elsewhere as dementia slowly takes over her brain.

About a month after we found out we were pregnant, we got some heavy news: an MRI showed three new spots in the brain of my mother. Brief history, here. My mom was diagnosed with a brain tumor a little over 20 years ago, when I was just a toddler. She was given months to live but made the decision to endure intense chemo and radiation as well as tricky brain surgery to remove the tumor as well as part of the frontal lobe of her brain. Though doctors said she may not live long, God had other plans entirely: she survived.

Recently, though, following the news the MRI revealed, her health began to rapidly decline. In a matter of months, she went from being mostly independent and living alone to being cared for by Hospice in her new home, an assisted living facility. It is so rapid, in fact, that we are barely beginning to accept her latest decline before she slips further down. To say I don't fully understand God's timing is quite possibly the understatement of the year.

A few months ago, Daniel and I spent a night in the ER with her following a fall and potential head injury at her residence. As she was lying there sleeping in the hospital bed, I sat and just watched her breathe. I let the emotions I hold at bay come out freely, feeling heartbreak in watching my Mother's decline and seeing her in such a condition. Feeling frustration over knowing there is nothing, medically speaking, we can do to heal her. And, feeling a need to understand why this is happening.

Just then, in the midst of that (mostly) inner emotional turmoil, I felt my baby girl move within me. In a way, it jolted me back to reality. The moment before, I was preoccupied in my bubble of frustration: my attention being on me, my attitude being an inwardly focused one. As my little girl moved, it was a perfect reminder of all the GOOD in my life right now. Yes, there is pain in experiencing my mother's decline. Of course there is. Of course this is an incredibly difficult time. But, that pain is not to discredit all the ways God is richly blessing us. I need to look no further than my (quickly) growing midsection to refocus my attention.

He gives us nothing but good gifts. Luke 11:13 says "If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask Him?" As her imperfect mother, giving Camden something that would bring about destruction in her life is unfathomable to me, so how much more must God, our PERFECT  Father, desire to give us good things? Our Father God giving us good gifts is not up for debate. What is, though, is whether we see the gifts as something good from Him instead of focusing on whether or not we understand His timing in these gifts.

In that moment of feeling Camden move, I thanked God for the perfect gift that she is and began to cry out to Him. I didn't pray anything specific but instead just called out His name. I didn't even know what I needed from Him, but He did. A bit later, I saw a verse, Isaiah 46:4, shared on a social media site. I looked it up in my bible, and it read: "Even to your old age I am he, I am He who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you. I will sustain you and I will rescue you."

I read those words and wept. The peace of God in this moment was unmistakable. I wept at the love of God, that as my Father he spoke tenderly to me words that brought comfort to my aching heart. I wept at the reminder that He is holding my Mama's precious life in His hands, and that even when it looks like she has been forsaken by Him, He has done no such thing. He is caring for her and will do so until He decides to bring her home.

This verse has acted as a reminder from the Spirit to fight in the those moments when I am tempted to focus on my lack of understanding above all. A reminder to keep my eyes focused on Jesus and to actively look for His gifts in the midst of everything else going on. Turns out, His gifts have not been hard to spot.

Like the gift of my mom's lucidity two months ago as we shared that we were having a baby girl and the story of how she was named. That in that moment, my mother and I held hands and cried tears of joy over the gift of Camden's life.

Or, the afternoon when my Mom remembered how much I enjoy sweet tea in my pregnancy as she ordered it for me before I arrived for lunch with her.

And then there is getting the gift of speaking God's heart to her as we sat outside today, the warm breeze blowing gently as if God's breath. I got to tell her how much God loves her and that He is taking care of her, and then reading Isaiah 46:4 over her after being prompted by the Spirit.

And, possibly, the best gift of all: My mother, with a weak smile displayed on her beautiful face, stroking my cheek with the tangible love of a mother for her daughter.

These are the things that I desire to fight to focus on. I want my eyes to see all the gifts God is giving here and live in this season with an attitude of thankfulness and trust in His plan instead of focusing on the many negatives here, thus succumbing to an attitude of resentment toward God.

The setbacks here are thick, yes; but God's love is thicker. The pain is real, but so is God's plan for Mama's life. Her physical and mental struggles right now are intense. But, so is God's power to heal. It is not a matter of if God will heal my Mama; it is a matter of when.

Thank you, Jesus, for the work You are doing. We praise You!

Love Stirring Within

I don't mean to start this post in a dreary fashion, but nonetheless, here I go.

In case you have yet to look at the calendar on your phone or computer or some other device within reach, today is February 16, 2014. The symbolism of today is that two years ago exactly, we found out we were losing our first child in miscarriage.

Way to be Debbie Downer, huh?!

Well, for your sake, I can tell you this post will get better.

Unbeknownst to us, we were just taking our first - and unwilling - steps into a very real pit of life where we stayed for nearly two years.

Here is where it gets better:

I feel that it should be easy to spit these words out, but there is just so much tied to them that I couldn't possibly just get straight to the point. I hope at this stage in my blogging journey, you the reader have become fond of my innate ability to talk and talk and talk (or in my case, write and write and write). If you haven't; Welp... all I can say is, be glad you are only reading my words instead of having a face-to-face conversation with me. I feel confident my loved ones would easily tell you I like to talk! But I digress...

I have yearned to speak these words for what feels like much longer than two years. I have hoped these words would come true in our lives. And, I feared I would never be able to attach them to my story. Alas, God is bigger. He is sovereign over my yearning, hopes, and fears. And He is faithful, painfully and overwhelmingly so that thinking of His commitment to the promises spoken over our lives gives me the sensation my heart might explode! He has been faithful in pursuing my heart, begging me to remain focused on His perfected Love in an attempt to keep the desires placed within me pure. He has been faithful to lead us through the pit with patience as we cautiously took most steps, and He has been faithful in honoring our obedience on the rare occasion we stepped forward willingly and excitedly.

Just as quickly as we entered that pit, God held our hands as He led us out of it.

On December 22, 2013, we saw what we have been praying for for over two years: TWO PINK LINES. God's whisper in that moment and the moments following, "I am faithful".

On December 23, bloodwork confirmed more than our pregnancy; it confirmed His faithfulness.

On January 7, 2014, the tiny fluttering of a developing heart rendered us breathless. Tears flowing, we marveled at His love and creation.

Faithful.

On January 17, we heard with our ears the fierceness of life within, strong like the galloping of horses feet.

Faithful.

On February 3, we saw with our eyes the tiny body - 3.15 centimeters from the top of Baby's head to it's bottom - wiggling and moving around with ease in the womb.

Can you see it? Feel it?

Faithful!

So, so faithful.

We are beyond joyful! We are praising God. We are in absolute awe that the hands of our loving Father are in my womb, shaping, molding and leaving fingerprints all over this precious life that we fall deeper in love with every day. This is God's child that He is giving to us to be ours! We are humbled, and incredibly, incredibly thankful to receive His beautiful gift.

It is only fitting that on the second anniversary of a day shrouded in pain and loss would God allow me to reach my third month of pregnancy.

And lest I forget - God has honored our prayers, specifically allowing me to be the Shunammite woman (2 Kings 4:8-17). In just a few months, on Mother's Day, I will be able to hold our child while baby grows within me. It is too much to bear, this love, this goodness, this precious life!

To God be the glory. To God be the praise.

Thank you, Jesus, for the work You are doing. We praise You!

Breathtaking Faithfulness

When I started this blogging journey last year, I never would have dreamed of the ways God would use it to bless my life. Furthermore, when our impromptu valley started 2+ years ago with the loss of our first child, I never - I mean, never - could have begun to imagine how God would transform my heart, my mind, my marriage, and really, my whole life.

I truly started writing on this blog as a way to open my heart and share my many struggles and vulnerabilities. I really thought to God, even if one person can even slightly be encouraged by You through this blog, then it's worth it. Making an effort to be open and vulnerable has been just that - an effort. In the past, I have sadly prided myself on being able to put on my happy face and play "pretend". You know - the game we all play sometimes as adults - the one where we are trying our very best not to let others see everything real that junks up our lives. I wanted to be that girl that "had it all together", to look and talk and seem like everything was peachy keen, even when it clearly wasn't. I remember with such clarity the moments before I would hit "Publish" on each post I wrote. Those moments were filled first with doubt; was anything I just wrote actually from God or just made up in my brain? Next, I would think of people and criticism and worry how foolish I would sound if none of my prayers were ever answered in an obvious way. I would wonder if being so honest was really worth it.

I wish I could say, "Every time I felt those emotions I would immediately repent of my sin and place all my trust in God and press that publish button with confidence in my Savior!"  I wish I could tell you that, but that's not the case. I can tell you that God would without fail give me a peace to share, but also without fail that peace was later followed by a mask of faith that God would be glorified.  In short, I was making it about me. I clearly don't have it together and kind of suck at this "playing pretend".

News to me:

Ain't nobody got it together.

(I sincerely hope you read that in the wise voice of Sweet Brown. If you do not know who she is, please do yourself a favor and look her up on YouTube.)

More news to me:

It's okay. It is okay to have nothing together because God DOES have it together, and He holds it together very well. Colossians 1:17 says, "He is before all things and in Him all things hold together."  So I can stop playing pretend. I can be real. I can be vulnerable. I can share the good, the bad, and the ugly and know that ultimately it all points to God; how good He is and how I am clearly always kept in one piece by Him alone.

Even more news to me:

God has glorified Himself through my junk; through mine and Daniel's struggle.

Last month, someone reached out to us, and it is with this person's permission that I share her story - in her words - of redemption. There is no way I could properly explain the gravity of how much God is glorified through this, so I'm just going to happily dump it on you!

[ I just wanted to take some time to let you know you've been on my mind and my heart for almost a year now constantly. After reading your blogs and posts, you and Daniel are in my prayers constantly; in fact, almost daily. I want to share a little bit about what God has been saying to me over the past months concerning you and Daniel and your definite (I emphasize this word) future family. It is phenomenal that through, what I can't even imagine have been some difficult and defeating times, you have only used them to grow stronger in your walk with Him. I want you to know that through your boldness for Him over the past year you gave me the only peace I felt through what was the most difficult thing I'd ever had to go through, and without even knowing it. It has taken me a very long time to build up the courage to A) talk about this situation at all and B) share this with you. Without knowing what all you have even been through, I can imagine it being a very defeating topic to be brought up and haven’t wanted to do that. I really need to share with you exactly what impact you had not only on my life, but my child’s. Due to some circumstances, I made a decision that I never thought I would: I had decided not to keep my child. I dreaded the day my baby would be born. I remember the feeling I had when I saw the child I didn’t want for the first time after I watched the video you shared on the adoptive parents. Because of your words I constantly read through my pregnancy, it was inadvertently YOU that gave me the greatest gift anyone ever could. When I watched that video, all I heard was God telling me that you needed to hear what your words and faithfulness did so that my child could have life. Again, I've felt the need for a long time to want to personally explain to and thank you for what you did for me. You gave me courage, strength, the willingness to trust in His plan, and most importantly, gratitude. I have learned, if nothing else, God’s timing is everything. And it may seem discouraging for y’all to have gone through what you have, but it isn’t for nothing. You saved my child’s life and me from an eternity of regret and sorrow. And, it allowed me to let myself receive this precious blessing. What you both have gone through is temporary and with purpose. God is going to pour blessing on both of you because you did what you were called and let Him speak through you.]


Daniel and I read the words of this brave woman and sat in dumbfounded silence for what seemed to be hours. We both shed tears of joy, thankfulness, humility, wonder, and awe. Daniel sat beside me with head held in hands until he finally broke the silence. As he scratched his head, he said slowly, as if he was wrapping his mind around it at the same time, "It is... moments like this... that put all the puzzle pieces in place."

And he was right. It was as if all the moments of despair, every second of confusion, every tear I cried in mourning, every bit of anger I felt toward God, and all lack of understanding we felt for so long made perfect sense all at once. Simultaneously I experienced the overwhelming emotions of just how grossly unworthy I am of God's goodness and how greatly humbled to be used by Him in such an incredible way. More than that, all the pain of the pit we lived in for over two years was suddenly okay.

 It was more than okay - it was worth it.

God's timing is impeccable. I think of every detail that He orchestrated to make this come together and it leaves me breathless. To be affirmed that my Father has been here every step of the way, to know the nudging I felt was real and given to my heart straight from Him, leaves me speechless. Even now, I find it so difficult to properly put into words all the emotions running through me.

Knowing there is a child living today who is surrounded by love - and this I know to be true - makes every second of the last two years so, so worth it. This journey has been so hard, but the beauty that has grown from the scorched ground we walked on is indescribable and unmistakable. The awe of God, the glory of His love, is something I beg to abide in every single day.

In the video linked above, the father says, "It is ultimately God's story that we're a part of." How very wise and true those words. It is not about us. It never was and it will never be. Everything about this life begs for God's glory, and that we have been given the precious gift to witness it astounds us.

NONE of this points to me. I have spent more time in the last two years asking God "why?" then saying to God, "Okay." I have fought with Him more over things not going my way then I have accepted His plan. I have put myself first, time and time again.

But I am begging God for continued awakening in my life, and if you are reading this, I am praying the same for you. I pray you will know the great, great love of God that He freely pours. I pray, that above all, God's glory is magnified through our lives, and that in our struggles, His strength is made perfect.

Thank you, Jesus, for your wonder. Thank you for the work you are doing. We praise you!