Because I should post

It's not been good lately friends, not good at all.  There are a host of reasons I could trot before you but they don't really matter.  Adoption is hard, having 5 kids is hard, cramming 7 people in 3 bedrooms is hard, transition is hard.  I've talked about all this before...nothing new. 

I figured I should put something down on this old blog in hopes of keeping (ahem, jump-starting) my rhythm.  

So I'm sitting up at midnight listening to some new hymn rec's from my friend Lindsey; I've just finished cleaning off the counter, switched over another load of laundry (will that ever end??), typed my VBS curriculum notes and am firmly trying not to do anything else on my to-do list.  The house is quiet and my mind is not.  I'm trying to drown the noise of life and the world with truth of my Savior in hymn form.

A lady cursed at me today because my kids were in the street.  Another lady shook her finger at me for the same reason. Sunday someone from my church (she didn't recognize me but I recognized her) stopped and gave me quite the lecture for letting my children ride their bikes in the street. If I didn't know better I would think the street is a ridiculous place for a child to ride his bike.  I've been  trying to remind myself all day that my kids were behaving, weren't in the wrong.  More noise...

I stand amazed in the presence of Jesus the Nazarene...

I fought with my daughter most of the day.  Lots of tears, a bit of yelling (shocking yes, I ran out grace too quickly) made for a terrible day.  Some days (most days lately) I feel like I've got the words, "I just don't know what to do" on a repeating track.  More noise...

And wonder how he could love me, a sinner, condemned, unclean...

A friend of mine got her daughter today.  What glorious blessing!  And my arms ache for the babies that won't come home here anymore.  I wonder if that desire will ever fade. The fixer in me spins out of control trying to find a way to get that part of me what it wants.  More noise...

So I stand on every promise of your word...

The house, oh the house.  I've heard from the Lord on this one.  And I don't understand.  But I've heard so I will cling to that.  The house deserves it's own post.  Maybe I'll write that one next.  But knowing doesn't always make things easier.  More noise...

So I'll stand on every promise of your word...

Be thou my vision, O Lord of my heart

Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art

Thou my best thought, by day or by night

Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.

no more noise...

I miss him

This is Isaac on the night we met him.

I miss my boy.  I miss the way he snuggled in close to sleep.  I miss the way he grinned with his whole mouth open.  I miss the way he was just starting to vocalize with us.  I miss the way he neatly book-ended my little family.  I miss the way he felt immediately like part of us.

Of course he doesn't look this way any more.  He's two now (I'll never forget his birthday -- 1/11/11). And April 1st of this year will mark two years since he was taken from us.  I still sometimes hope it was just a cruel joke. He's a big boy -- probably with no memory of all the memories he made here.  

I've never had to bury a child.  I have no real understanding of the finality of that horror.  But I have lost my son.  I've had to grieve, alone in the middle of the night, the ache of empty arms.  People say I should be happy for him (and in my mind I guess I am); he was reunited with his biological family.  Sometimes my heart struggles though, because we were his family when no one else wanted to be.  At the strangest times I find myself thinking about him, wondering what he's doing, what he's like.  "They" said it would get easier with time.  I suppose it did -- I don't have to wonder every second how I'm going to breathe again.  But the grief itself isn't less, isn't easier.  It's not constant; no, now it hits in waves, unexpectedly and without warning, ruining me for a time. There are people in my life who say I need to get over it, pull myself up by the boot straps and move on, it's over.  I'm not sure how to do that. I'm not even sure I want to do that. 

There's no real lesson here.  No clever way to end this post.  But if this is to really be any sort of memoir of me, then this needs to be here.  

Facebook rulebook

Before beginning this post, I think I have to admit that writing it officially makes me old...as in yesterday's technology old.  Not in the "I'm a relic" way -- I'm only 31 after all (is that right? I can't even remember).  But in the "I'm an iPhone 4 in an iPhone 5 world." I always wondered when this would happen and how it would feel...

On to facebook...

I think I need a facebook rulebook.  I recently commented on a "friend's" status and immediately thought, "I wonder if I just interrupted that conversation." And right then I began to have a feeling that I'm breaking a whole mess of unspoken rules about to whom and when I should comment.  I have a mess of friends -- old and new -- that fill my newsfeed daily.  Some are funny, others...not so much.  All entertaining for my somewhat voyeuristic self.  I've recently decided that if a name is on my friend list then I'll consider him/her my friend, as in I'll actually say something if I have something to say.  Let the commenting commence to start.  Precisely because of my new personal commenting rules, I've discovered that not everyone shares those rules.   In fact, I'm beginning to think I'm in the minority if not solitary position here. I don't want this to read as a plea for more comments.  I personally don't really care if I get comments...if you feel like saying something then say it.  Some days my introverted self just doesn't want  to comment -- too much personal interaction.  Rather this is me wondering, "am I doing this wrong?".  Is there a right way (and conversely wrong way) to comment?  Are there circles on facebook?  Am I supposed to only comment on those in the inner sanctum and just creep on those outside it?

And here's where I think it may be an age thing.  If you are labeled "Friend" then I think that deems us entered into some sort of relationship.  And if we are entered into some sort of relationship then I think that there shouldn't be any rules to how and when I communicate via the medium of the relationship (in this case facebook). And if there are rules, then shouldn't we terminate the relationship?  I just keep thinking that if any of my "real life" friends and I had rules on communication it would be difficult for us to maintain our friendships. And maybe that's the kicker.  Maybe I've grown tired of using facebook to check up on people and see how far they've come.  Maybe I've come to a place in my life when I realize how difficult it is for all of us and I genuinely want to celebrate and grieve and have community with folks...no matter what we were like decades ago.

I'll end with this...another apology for this mess of words I'll call writing.  Seriously out of practice...

The bone scan of 2013

I posted on facebook yesterday about Sam having a bone scan and it became clear that we hadn't done the best job at keeping the world informed of the goings-on around here.  Thought it might best to set the record straight and get us all on the same page.

Sam limps. That's the short answer.  He's actually been limping...for 8 months. At least that's as far back as we can remember.  We can distinctly remember talking about it around Mother's Day 2012 but it could have been happening before.  And I remember, even then, not knowing why he was limping.  We've watched him over the course of that time -- some days his limp is BAD and other days it's non-existent.  Some days he'll tell me his leg hurts and other days he'll only identify pain if asked and other days he looks at you like you've grown an extra appendage when quizzed about his leg.

Christmas this year brought inquiries from lots of people...enough inquiries that we decided that maybe we should take him to the doctor.  We fully expected to be told it was a high ankle sprain or some "no big deal" thing.  We first visited our pediatrician.  She poked and prodded and could find nothing definitive, and though he limped into the office and out of the office, when she asked him to walk he did so without a limp.  Her assessment:  send him to the orthopedic doctor.  So we made an appointment. Again, Sam limped in so severely that the nurse was worried he shouldn't be walking at all.  We x-ray'd and examined and again, when the doctor asked him to walk, skip, jump, and balance, Sam did so without a problem.  "Normal gait" was the observation.  I cried.  My son is limping for everyone except the doctor.  Our ortho decided to order blood tests to rule out infections and other illnesses; words like "muscular dystrophy" and "leukemia" floated around and I held my breath for 3 days waiting those test results.  All were normal.  And in case anyone's keeping track, that's the third time in his short 5 years of life we've heard it might be cancer for Sam.  So tired of that.

Because Sam was still limping and the x-rays and blood work came back all clear, the doctor ordered a 3 phase bone scan. We waited 2 weeks for the first available appointment.  Then we ventured to Texas Children's where they injected him with radioactive dye and took pictures of his pelvis, legs and feet.  Then we waited 3 hours and took more pictures to see how the dye had been absorbed into his bones.  A fascinating test, really; I was amazed at the technology.  We weren't sure how to even pray for that scan.  We didn't want them to find anything but we also weren't sure we didn't want them to not find anything either, weren't sure we wanted to go the next step.

Bone scan results come back quickly -- we received a call from our ortho last night.  The bone scan was clear except for a slight abnormality that indicated a change in weight bearing.  Basically -- the scan showed that Sam limps.  Now we are being referred to a pediatric rheumatologist.  The kicker -- there are only 4 pediatric rheumatologists in Houston so the wait is super long to get an appointment.  I can't actually call and make an appointment; our referring doctor has to do that for me. Fortunately, because my God's not a God of coincidence, one of my best friends has a sister-in-law who is a pediatric rheumatologist, and although she practices in New Orleans, has been great about answering the zillion questions I've had.

The good news, from our ortho and our pediatrician and our friend -- it's probably not a big deal.  All of Sam's tests are good, great in fact.  And he's healthy and active and "normal" (Sam's never been normal a day in his life but from a medical perspective we'll take it).  We'll pursue this new direction and see what happens. And we'll try not to worry.  Because we know who goes before us and who is our rear guard.

A Cornucopia of Randomness

Some thoughts...

1.  There is no greater creation than dressing, turkey, gravy and cranberries, at the same time.  Trust me on this.

2.  To the lady who took the seats from my children in church:  I kinda think you may have missed the point of being there.  The perfect center seat isn't it...glad my newly-turned-5 year old gets it.

3.  Some lessons have to be learned by experience, no matter your age.  For me, recently, this was the need for exercise and a good diet. Two weeks off and my body started shutting down.  One day back and, amazingly, things have completely turned around.  No more skipping morning runs for this lady.  I've heard it all my life but to see it played out so clearly was perspective-changing.

4.  Pre-teen sass may be my kryptonite.  I've had more in the last month than I care to stomach.  And goodness, we're just beginning.  Right now I'm trying to understand how I became the bad guy when I'm not the one dealt the punishment for disobedience.  Somehow...always my fault.  Luke says we need to get the devil out of her...I'm thinking of dosing her food with midol. (Not really on both accounts).

5.  Making things like turkey soup from a leftover bird makes me feel ever so pioneer-like.  Ma Ingalls and I might as well be enjoying a rare chat and a cup of coffee.

That's it.  Maybe I'll get something a bit more lofty, or at the very least organized into complete thoughts, later.

Eating a new way and Oatmeal Flax Muffins

Pushing through the habit of not-blogging...we'll take whatever we can get these days...

In my never-ending quest to be healthier, I've started changing the way my kids eat.  I'm hoping that while I'm working on my own diet and exercise habits, I can teach them to make good choices, teach them to crave the good simply because it's good, teach them that food is fuel not happiness, and ultimately break some generational sin before it starts.  After searching and researching, Luke and I are working on feeding our kids whole-foods, cutting out processed and artificial junk.  He and are eating similarly but with a few more restrictions to aide in fat-reduction.  Fortunately, none of our kids have allergies so this particular way of eating is easy for us to implement.  There is no one right way.  We picked a way of eating that was sustainable for our lifestyle, was easy to teach our kids and would be easy for them to sustain for the duration (hoping they choose to!).

This has NOT been an easy transition in many ways.  Whole foods mean more fruits and veggies, which for kids who think the only fruit is a banana and that veggies are sent from God as punishment has been torturous at times.  Every now and then, like this morning, I get glimmers of hope as I see them devouring good like it's a treat; chinks in their crappy food armor!

This morning we had Oatmeal and Flax seed muffins.  I found the recipe here.

(not my muffins...picture from the recipe site.)

I made a few changes from the original recipe.  One, I didn't have buttermilk so I made my own (real milk and a little lemon juice).  Two, I was completely out of berries (and pretty much everything else perishable since I haven't been to the grocery store since Noah was a boy)...hence the need to make muffins...so I subbed chocolate chips (just a few...call it bait for the kids if you will).  Three, I subbed maple syrup for brown sugar.  We are really trying to get our kids used to alternative sweeteners, ones that are more natural like local honey and maple syrup (less processed than sugar).  I know that sugar is sugar, regardless the source, and our bodies process it all the same; but we are trying to reduce the amount of processing our foods get.  Maple syrup and local honey get messed with less from source to table (or muffins in this case).

This recipe was a HUGE success.  My kids devoured them and no one said anything about the sprinkled ground flax seed on top, the oatmeal within or the lack of "real" sugar.  It helps that these were in muffin form...I'm beginning to think I could feed them anything in muffin form!

One step closer...that's my every day outlook for this change.  Every day is one step closer that turns this into a lifestyle for all of us.

And I promise I won't turn this into a cooking blog with recipes all the time...just when I'm in a blogging rut!

My perspective on His glory

Told ya I was trying to get into a rhythm...

We sang it in church Sunday.  Take my life and let it be all for you and for your glory.  I've probably said those words hundreds, perhaps thousands, of times over the years.  Take my life and let it be yours.  On a practical level, it's the declaration we make when we surrender to the lordship of Christ.  But there's a chasm of difference between saying it and understanding it...at least for me.  I expected hardships, tough times.  I expected to weather storms and that those storms would be for His glory.  But what about when the storms cease? What about when the waves are calm but the trajectory of your journey isn't what you'd choose?  Then it isn't so easy to proclaim loudly that your life is all for the glory of someone else.

There are so many positive connotations with the word glory that it's difficult to imagine that the unpleasant would actually, could actually, bring glory to God.  And yet, somehow, it does. Not the unpleasant that is the wretched and awful...that's not what I mean.  The unpleasant that is just not what we wanted, not what we chose.  The thing I've come to realize over the past 2 years is that the point of everything, all of it, is for His glory.  The day-in-day-out occurrences that seem to me to carry so much weight are really nothing but ways to bring God glory.

Why did we adopt?  To bring God glory. Why aren't we moving? To bring God glory. Why do we make lunches for kids in another school? To bring God glory.  Why don't we participate in our homeschool coop? To bring God glory. Why did my daughter pitch a royal fit in the store? To bring God glory. Why did I wake up this morning? To bring God glory. The end of all of it is simply yet profoundly to bring God glory. Simple. Huge.

I'm sure this is an easy topic for most, but for me, I've found myself telling God "no this isn't bad, I just don't want it to be this way." And that's when the weight of what I say hits hard and heavy.  Take my life and let it be all for you and for your glory.  And yet it's so freeing...I don't have to worry about getting everything right. I just have one goal, to bring him glory.

Glory to God forever...