Celebrate....

March 4th... It does get easier. "They" are right about that whomever "they" are. But snowy March and a chilly fall day in September are still hard. My arms feel empty, my heart breaks all over again, my mind wonders; 

Who is she today? 

Is she safe?

Is she happy? 

Does her mama know what a gift she is? 

I remember the weight of her tiny body on my chest, her newborn baby smell, the breeze blowing through the soft dark hair on her head. 

I mourn

I cry

I bake cake 

I light candles and sing "happy birthday"

I celebrate 

You see this mama heart not only aches for the daughter that God gave me to hold for a short time and know for 6 months and love for a lifetime. It celebrates;

I'll light the candles in honor of a 4 year old who stole my heart, who was named and loved. 

I'll also celebrate 

The gift of prayers answered in ways that seemed opposite of what I wanted, but are exactly the answers I needed. 

The gift of babies to love for a short time or for their whole lives. 

The gift of foster babies reunited with their mamas

The gift of the laughter of waiting children in orphanages 

The gift of tiny babies in the womb whom never took a breath on earth

The gift of wombs full of life and wombs that are empty

The gift of babies born at home in water and those born in hospital rooms, the very definition of what strong is. 

The gift of babies that pass through my hands into their mothers arms 

The gift of an 11year old who were not supposed to be able to walk or live to be 5, riding her first bike. 

The gift of a strong little boy who beats the odds every day with each beat of his super heart. 

The gift of big grinned boy born on the day of peace, that is the definition of living fully into the beauty of bittersweet. 

This year as the wax drips and melts the frosting-purple this year because she is 4. I celebrate the gift of motherhood. I honor those who have mothered me and those whom God has given me to mother, if only for a moment. Because it matters.

"the word mother is more powerful when used as a verb than as a noun. All woman are not mothers, but all women are called to mother. To mother is to nurture, to train, to educate, to rear. As daughters of Eve all women are uniquely gifted to help others in their lives become more of who they truly are -- to encourage, nurture, and mothers them toward who they truly are" -Stasi Eldredge, Captivating. 

Happy Birthday Isabella Esperanza Maria! 

Whose name means "God is my oath and hope in this sea of bitterness" 

(Type Isabella in the search box to read more about her story)

Stumble after you...

I really should know better. God always speaks in whispers and shouts when I need it most. 

This evening a friend of mine, who is an inspiration to my recent attempt at developing a running habit, encouraged me to suck it up and do 3 miles tomorrow. Ugh. Have I mentioned that, although I can't say I hate running anymore, it's still not my favorite. (I've moved to the strongly dislike phase. Progress!) so anyways I get in my car to head to work tonight, put the iPhone on shuffle and plug it it. 

This song below comes on, I melt. Once again to be refined by the fire of my creator. 

A few weeks ago I posted "I don't wanna" as my status. That same friend told me to go run. When I asked her how she knew that's what I was talking about she said "it's the only thing you consistently complain about" ouch... 

Ouch because although running makes me tired, makes me feel like I can't breathe, hurts my foot and fatigues my legs, takes up time, makes me all sweaty and gross and is disappointing because it takes me forever to complete my miles... I have a body that allows me to do it, a fat, slow and clumsy body, but a capable one.

 As the song played I thought about the veterans in wheelchairs in the memorial day parade today. 

I thought about every toddler I have ever witnessed learning take their first steps, their confidence and endurance, no matter how many times they fall. 

I thought about my buddies with CP, a little boy who lives to run when holding on to both of my hands propelling himself trusting his legs and my arms will keep him safe. A young girl who loved to swing , a 10 year old boy who crawled to me to hear a story. 

I thought about my Elianna who drs said would probably never walk,  who after years of work can walk, and play without the assistance of her walker. 

I thought about my "baby" Gabe with spina bifida, who worked so hard to take those first steps on legs that are hard for him to feel, and how a surgury that was for his best interest caused him to have to relearn how to stand.

Tomorrow's run is for them, no matter how slow, and yucky it is, no matter how much I stumble. Thank you God o ce again for drowning me in grace I don't deserve. 

Stumble After You

Would I smile if I was broken? Would I dance on crippled feet?

Would I fall too far behind again, or run a race I know I can’t complete?
Would I give if I had nothing, and could I love the ugly me?
Would I try so hard to be so strong, when I know that all I am is weak,
All I am is weak . . .

Would I clench my fist, fall down and scream at all I cannot do?
Or dry my eyes and crawl back to my feet,
And stumble after you.

Would I grin in my embarrassment, and would I laugh when the joke is me?
Could I look you in the eyes still, when my crippled legs are all that I can see,
All that I can see . . .

So take my hands if they won’t give, and take my life so I can lift you.
Take my eyes if they’re on me, please take my heart and make it bleed.
Take all this up to a hill and crucify the king of will
Till all I have runs down my face and I’m a wretch who’s drowning in your grace.

Lions...

March comes in like a lion...

It's roaring, snarling, prowling.
Bringing things like stress and cancer and moving and work and play and busy and missing loved ones and aging and memories.

But I will try to focus on March going out like a lamb, the lamb who laid down his life for me and holds me still. Shalom.

Remember... And give thanks

Shivering in wet clothes, I'm wrapped in warm towels and love. Newly born into a faith so much bigger than my 12 year old self could ever imagine, beginning a journey that would lead me here...

Some of my readers may be familiar with my faith journey, the dusty gravel roads, the paved highways, and trail-less forests that I have traveled to get me closer to the one who spoke light in the darkness and came as a baby to ransom my soul. Some may be familiar with the story of how I went from Nazarene to social brethren to free will baptist to reformed to independent to United Methodist to follower of Christ. For those that aren't and are interested lets go out for chai lattes :)

Today at church I took part in something I never have before, at communion time the pastor invited us up to the baptismal fount to remember our baptism. As she dipped her finger into the water and made a drippy cross on my forehead, she said "remember your baptism and be thankful"

I was instantly flooded with memories.

A baptism of birth fluids as I co-caught my first baby, and the inevitable baptism that occurs during water births

A baptism of confidence from those who believe in me despite my fears

A soft spoken pastor who baptized me in prayer back in college when all hope seemed lost "you are a child of hope" he said as he made a cross on my forehead, embracing me, telling me I belonged.

A baptism of tears at a final goodbye, soaking my shoulder, penetrating into my heart.

A baptism of words spoken by a wise future reverend in the middle of a crowded cafeteria

The icy water baptism by the first person I ever called pastor. Plugging my nose and stepping into the pool after my mother and cousins. "In the name of the father, son and Holy Spirit"

My first "baptism" when Jesus came into the heart of a shy 7 year old at VBS.

Today I left church, shivering in remembrance of the waters, words, prayers, and paths that have lead me here.

Today I realize I am like the squalling newborn, surprised by the incomparable blessings poured out over my head and the wild and rocky journey placed in front of my feet.

I remember... And I am thankful

Things don't always go as planned, but then again maybe they do.

Micah 6:8 it is kinda funny that I pulled this shirt out of my closet this morning...


Today a sweet baby girl was born and half way around the world a little boy was "born" into his forever family.

Sweet baby girl's mother had her first all natural, no induction birth, giving her confidence in the ability of her body to work. I am a bit bummed to have missed the birth by minutes, but I loved seeing the sparkle in my team member's eyes as she told me "I delivered her".

My friend Alison went to court today and left a mother of a precious little boy. Their journey has been up and down these past few months and I am rejoicing.

I purchased the Micah shirt to help support baby E's adoption. 2 babies, 2 very different stories, one amazing day.

Advent

Advent
waiting, longing,
expecting


Advent
Anticipation, joy
Peace
The tiny kicks of a new life in the womb

Advent
Holy, amazing
Slippery
Newborn staring up through the waters
breaking the surface
Breathes deep and cries

Advent
Power, trembling,
Blessed
Hands that catch
hold
guide

Advent
Deeper, transcendent
Reminded
A stable, a woman, alone yet surrounded

Advent
Hope, joy
Love
A savior in a manger cries out in the night

Advent
Waiting, longing
Expecting

Grateful

Peace...

 If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other.  

~Mother Teresa

September 21st is known as International Day of Peace. It was established by a United Nations resolution in 1981, "Peace Day should be devoted to commemorating and strengthening the ideals of peace both within and among all nations and peoples…This day will serve as a reminder to all peoples that our organization, with all its limitations, is a living instrument in the service of peace and should serve all of us here within the organization as a constantly pealing bell reminding us that our permanent commitment, above all interests or differences of any kind, is to peace"  

Peace day is an important day in my book, a day to unite and make strides towards peace within the world, our cities, our neighborhoods, our families and our homes, but September 21st holds a special place in my heart for a few other reasons. 

September 21st 2010

 "The Lord has given life to a sweet little boy on this day of Peace. Strong lungs and a thick head of hair, ready to face surgery tomorrow" -ckb 2010

Sweet baby Gabe is two! A walking, talking, bright eyed and funny little person. My heart overflows with love for his sweet family, and with gratitude to my amazing God. 

Gabe's Poem

(written on his first birthday)

Ask me what peace is and I will tell you

Peace is the Steady Beat hiding behind the whooshing sounds 

Peace is Faith beyond what the tests reveal

Peace is found in prayers full of tears 

Peace is the sound of that first squealing cry

Peace is in healing and heading home

Peace is Hope at each small twitch of little feet

Peace is the feeling of you in my arms for the first time

Peace is that sweet baby smell I can never seem to get enough of

Peace is the power of seeing you stand

Peace is the blessing of watching you grow

Peace is what I feel holding you tonight, 

one year later

bigger 

stronger

Peace is a toddler who rests deeply

unaware of the tears that glisten in sun-bleached hair

who still (barely) fits in my lap.

To read more about the amazing Gabe click here 

*****

September 21st 2010 

"I cannot find the peace in the reunification of a baby, who was abandoned at the hospital, nameless, motherless, who became loved, named and cherished..." -ckb 2010

September 21st also reminds me of how sometimes finding peace with a situation can be tough. My heart was broken two years ago by the fb message telling me that my baby would never be mine. 

I have come a long way since then, my heart still feels the connection to her, and sometimes my arms still ache to hold her close and feel her tiny heart beat against my chest. But, I am finding the peace that I could not find two years ago. I am holding tight to the promises of the God who is holding her. 

and although the image brings tears to my eyes and a hurt deep in my soul, I can almost picture her, two years old, spunky and sweet, long jet-black hair, piercing auburn eyes, laughter like sunshine... Running into her mother's arms.

“When life is sweet, say thank you and celebrate. And when life is bitter, say thank you and grow.” 

― Shauna Niequist, Bittersweet

Book Review

If you know me IRL (in real life) you know that there are a few things in this world that bring me great joy... besides all things babies... I am a reader. The smell and feel of books is like a drug to me. Those black on white words better than the richest chocolate.

This being said, I have a habit of buying books when I have money to, but often the time to read them does not align with my bank account. Recently I started reading a book bought in such a moment. Havah: The Story of Eve  by: Tosca Lee.

AMAZING!

The season of Lent is a great time to read this fictionalized account of Eve's life from first breath, awakening in the Garden next to Adam to final breath, awakening back into the presence of God. The author attempts to imagine how it must have been to speak with God, fully in His presence to the complete separation that sin created.

I have not finished the book yet but I recommend it so far. It is an adult novel, but I am sure that a mature teen could enjoy it.

"...Help us become simple people, that we may see you plainly. As we wear the mark of ashes, rekindle the sign of hope within our eyes..." - The Worship Sourcebook





This is NOT a sponsored post, just a friendly reading suggestion :)

One...

Ask me what peace is and I will tell you

Peace is the Steady Beat hiding behind the whooshing sounds 

Peace is Faith beyond what the tests reveal

Peace is found in prayers full of tears 

Peace is the sound of that first squealing cry

Peace is in healing and heading home

Peace is Hope at each small twitch of little feet

Peace is the feeling of you in my arms for the first time

Peace is that sweet baby smell I can never seem to get enough of

Peace is the power of seeing you stand

Peace is the blessing of watching you grow

Peace is what I feel holding you tonight, 

one year later

bigger 

stronger

Peace is a toddler who rests deeply

unaware of the tears that glisten in sun-bleached hair

who still (barely) fits in my lap.

Happy Birthday Buddy! 

Confessions and ponderings...

I have to admit, lately I have been pretty down. So much so that by the weekends it is very easy for me to sit around all day and read or watch movies. I have been dabbling into some crafty things lately such as knitting and scrap-booking, but it is hard to get the motivation to do much else on my own. It was nice this weekend to have lunch with my aunt and to have my former co-worker's baby spend the night it kept me up and about while still allowing me to relax a bit after a hectic work week.

I am also a bit discouraged with my future goals lately, for both internal and external reasons.  I am cautiously testing the water before I jump in. Playing it safe is where I am comfortable, but there is a certain bit of discomfort with hesitation.
It is hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel when you are peeking around the edge with one eye closed.

It is hard to have the courage to jump in and run through the tunnel, when it seems like so many stones are blocking the entrance.

I am struggling distant with my faith lately. I know and feel that God is near but we are having a silent time.

I know I have been called to serve the Lord by serving babies, children and mamas. I know that I will someday "catch" babies, return to an orphanage to work with the babies and young pregnant women that are living there, I know that someday I will attend a court hearing that will declare a child mine, I know that someday I will give back a child that is not "mine" to keep, I know that someday I will try to carry a child in my own womb.

I know that I am ok right now with where I am and with what I am doing. I know that the day to day is temporary and that I need to stop checking off the days as done and enjoy them more, because time moves so fast. In a blink of an eye 10 years pass. In 17 months I will have spent a quarter of a century earth-side. As someone once said, "Don't count the days, make the day's count" I am trying.

Rope of Hope

A cord of 3 strands is not easily broken

Nor will the roots that have been planted 

in the soil of Hope be uprooted

"Well Done" -TDJ

Not Fair

As I sit nursing a still swollen foot thinking about how much it stinks. I am reminded how much worse it could be.

Children stuck in orphanages

Mamas and Daddys not able to adopt because of legalities

Please pray for Shyanne and the Freeds... http://guatfreeds.jimdo.com/shyanne-s-story/

owie

I have spent the last few days on the couch or crawling around due to a 2nd/3rd degree sprained foot. :( it kinda sucks, but it could have been so much worse. Thank you Lord for protecting the kiddos and helping me to keep it all together until they were safe with their parents again.

JJ Heller kind of month

the rough road be made smooth

Hills & Valleys from blaine hogan on Vimeo.

Random

I really stink at blogging lately!

Here are some updates

1. Classes are scheduled
2. I made some things in ceramics that actually look like they are supposed to.
3. I am working a lot and baby sitting a lot :)
4. I met sweet baby Gabe and had a bit of déjà vu and had to hold back from crying (especially after his oldest brother was telling me about the lady that cried at Toy Story 3 (I did too!) He is so funny and smart.)
5. God is really working on me in some areas and it is good
6. Everyone needs to read Bittersweet by Shauna Niequest
7. I went to a midwife conference and it was awesome!

 

Untitled…

Broken and Beautiful…

My heart is broken and restored at the same time…

The Lord has given life to a sweet little boy on this day of Peace. Strong lungs and a thick head of hair. Ready to face surgery tomorrow to repair a hole in his spine

but….

I cannot find the peace in the reunification of a baby, who was abandoned at the hospital, nameless, motherless,

Who became loved, named and cherished

   

Is going to live with the very one who left her…

tomorrow…

forgiveness is hard sometimes….

peace is hard sometimes….

Lord Bless, Isabella Esperanza Maria

Continue to be our “oath and hope in this sea of bitterness”

Orphans of God

Hope is fading...

Hope is Fading from Allan Rosenow on Vimeo.

I can't wait until I can be a foster parent/ adoptive parent