Toddler Life Lessons

'Sorry, Mom, it was an accident.' He says the right words, but I don't know that he quite grasps their meaning because we seem to be finding ourselves in this position quite often. Now, I need to clarify right away that our toddler is exceptional and one of my very favorite human beings. Owen is smart, adventurous, kind and hilarious. But he's also two years old and going through an unbelievable amount of change right now.

These are just a few of the things we've put him through in the past three and a half months: moving across the ocean, road tripping through seven states, potty training, being introduced to what feels like a million new people (and we're related to them all, Mom?!), bringing Baby Brudder home, experiencing winter for the very first time, learning to share Dad and Mom and sleeping in a big boy bed. Safe to say, some bumps in the road are to be expected; this last week those bumps took the form of regression in the potty training area.
God teaches me many lessons through my sons. Seriously, who would've thought one could discover deep spiritual truths while scrubbing poop stains out of tiny, little man boxers?! But it's true. I'm coming to believe that we are all just toddlers living in big people bodies. We try to act like we've got it all figured out and 'I can do it myself!' when we obviously can not and do, in fact, desperately need assistance. We try to run before we learn to walk. Everything is more catastrophic when we are hungry or tired. And if it wasn't so socially inappropriate we would all throw enraged-toddler-style fits from time to time, complete with crying so hard we turn blue in the face.
And yet...
God loves us.
And yet...
I love my toddler.

So, back to the poop issues. The revelation of the week came as Owen stumbled out of his room post-nap, looking about as fragile as Grandma's china and with pants looking more than a little...well, soiled. I walked him into the bathroom and at this point he usually gets 'the talk' about how disappointed I am and how big boys go potty in the toilet, yada yada. But this was different. He was so obviously broken by the events that had just transpired that as I helped him step out of his pants, tears started rolling down those sweet, sweet cheeks. I didn't utter a word; he was inflicting more than enough punishment on himself. I wiped him off, helped him step into new boxers and then gathered him into my arms and we sat on the bathroom floor together and rocked back and forth.
Sometimes I am so blatantly disobedient to my Father. Like, Jonah-style, catch a ride on the boat going as far from Nineveh as possible kind of disobedient. And then I need to be told that my actions were not those of a 'big girl' and were, indeed, unacceptable. I am capable of so much more. But other times, life just happens and I find myself in a world of trouble and I tip toe out of my room, head hung in shame and whisper, 'Sorry, Papa, it was an accident.' And you know what He does, like the Father of the prodigal son, He comes to me with grace that is stronger than any punishment. He gently wipes the gunk off as tears roll down my cheeks and then He sits with me, right there on the floor of the bathroom, and holds me close.
I am so thankful for grace.
Ephesians 2:8-9 'For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God; not as a result of works, so that no one may boast.' 

I regularly ask Jesus to teach me SO THAT I can teach my boys. I have much to learn. But one of the biggest lessons I am trying to apply is that I am called to raise, disciple and love my boys like He loves me. 1 John 4:19 'We love because He first loved us.' This way, when I have any doubt on how to handle a situation I turn my thoughts to myself, toddler in a big girl body, and the countless ways I screw up each day. And then I try to respond to my boys in the way that God responds to me. Sometimes I need a serious time out. Sometimes nature simply takes its course and the consequences of my actions become the best form of teaching. And other times, drowning in my own shame and guilt, I need to be scooped up and held close and told that I am loved. Regardless, grace always wins.

Every day is something new with these boys and, although sometimes I fail to see it, there is almost always a lesson for me involved, too! Owen wants to swing high, 'but not REALLY high, Mom'. He is so brave and tough but he also likes the door left 'just a tiny bit open, Mom' when he goes to bed at night. This is so like me; ready to spread my wings and soar, and yet desperately needing to know that I have a soft place to land, strong arms that always catch me. May I have the child-like faith that Owen shows me each day. May I extend grace as it has so richly been lavished upon undeserving, little me.

Owen runs up to me from time to time, completely out of the blue, to say, 'Jesus lives in our HEARTS!' And then speeds off to resume playing. Seriously, he may be the one teaching me, here. (Just don't tell him!) May I live with the remarkable trust that he daily exudes. He also jumps off the couch yelling a line from one of his latest memory verses, 'SONS OF GOD!' and we joke that this is probably what David's mighty men yelled as they charged into battle. But what if I brought my faith into every detail of life, even couch jumping, with such reckless abandon!? Wouldn't God be pleased?!  I'm telling you.. I could go on and on. Life with a toddler equals life lessons in abundance. Just when I thought I had life figured out, God gave me boys and said, 'Daughter, we are JUST getting started!' I have so much to learn. Thank goodness for GRACE.
In conclusion, this morning Owen informed that he was starving and needed to have, and I quote, 'Yogurt and a bagel and a banana and pancakes and.... SALSA!' :) I haven't exactly gleaned the life lesson from this request yet, but it did allow me to start the day with a chuckle and maybe that is a lesson in itself. Why not begin each day with joy? Why not be outrageous with your breakfast orders? Why not..

Voices

When people claim 'voices in their head', we tend to take everything else proceeding from their mouths with a grain of salt, or maybe an entire salt block! But lately I've been hearing a few voices of my own and, therefore, decided not to be so quick to judge. (Funny how that works, right?!) In fact, I'm starting to believe these voices may exist in every head; the varying factor simply being the volume we allow each voice, the ones we choose to listen to.
Now, I'm no expert. I don't claim a degree in 'voice classification'. But, as far as I can tell, there's at least four basic categories: the voice of the world, the voice of the enemy, the voice of my self and the voice of Truth. Those all break down into more specific classifications, of course, but let's not get in over our heads here.

The past few months of my life have been extremely beautiful and extremely hard. And, yes, those two can co-exist... but that's a post for another afternoon. From the depths of postpartum blues and several rounds of sickness that left me with nothing left to give, I started hearing devastating phrases echoing through the corridors of my mind. 'You don't have what it takes.' 'Your boys deserve a better Mom.' 'How pathetic, you can't take care of your self or your family.' 'All the other moms seem to have it all figured out.' 'Your husband deserves a wife who has her act together.' And so on and so forth.
You get the picture; it's not a pretty one. Typing these words makes me cringe and yet, in the moment... head ache pounding, babies screaming, temperatures below freezing.. I believed them. I bought into the lie. I turned the volume up on the wrong voices and I let them run rampant.
I knew what was happening; understood that these feelings and thoughts were welling up from the mass of emotions and hormones and 'new' in my life. This knowledge didn't stop me from allowing the taunting voices to take over my mind for a time. It was easier, simpler perhaps, to let them talk than to rise to their challenge. The weapons needed to fight were at my disposal, I knew exactly what would send the depression packing: the name of Jesus, a thankful heart, opening up to those around me and admitting my need for help. But the mountain of emotions (and laundry and dishes and dirty diapers) seemed insurmountable.

I was driving down the mountain for a doctor appointment when God spoke to me right through the radio station. It was the Casting Crowns song 'Voice of Truth'; these lyrics released the pressure within and gave me the courage I needed to take a stand. Telling the stories of Peter's attempt at water walking and David's facing of Goliath with simple sling and stone, this song contrasts the voice of the monsters, the insurmountable and the terrifying with the only Voice that truly matters.

But the voice of truth tells me a different story

And the voice of truth says, 'Do not be afraid!'

And the voice of truths says, 'This is for my glory!'

Out of all the voices calling out to me,

I will choose to listen and believe the voice of truth.

-Casting Crowns

It was no coincidence that 'voices' were also mentioned in the very next sermon I heard and the next chapter I read in my book. Okay okay, Papa God, I hear You! 

It matters not what battle you are facing, my friend. I understand that not everyone reading this is in the same boat as I am. But the voices of the world, of the enemy, even the voice of self- they don't care what season of life we are in. They will use any opportunity to utter their opinions, their lies. They start as a whisper, confirming deepest fears that we are, in fact, not enough or maybe we are too much. Comparing us to those around, preying on our weakest points, these voices twist reality and feed into fear and doubt. Reminding us of a life we once wished for, they stir feelings of discontent and hopelessness. They are relentless and must be turned off. May we not forget that we control the volume!

'My job was to put the good words on repeat so the bad words couldn't compete.' 

-Leeana Tankersley

The thief comes only to steal snd kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. John 10:10

The voice of Truth, it will never force itself, but is capable of changing everything. We must choose to turn up that still, small voice [1 Kings 9:12]. This one and only Voice that matters; it makes those mountains surmountable and gives the courage necessary to face up to the terrifying seasons of life stretching out before us. And if we listen to Truth consistently, let it penetrate the darkest pockets of our minds, it will begin to transform. I'm learning ways to thrive in this season instead of simply surviving. Some days may still feel impossible and leave me depleted of all resources. But that doesn't make me a failure. If I listen closely I can hear the voice of Truth telling a different story. He whispers that I am exactly where I'm supposed to be and this will be for His glory. 'Daughter, I am with you. I am for you! Don't give up the fight.'

Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free. John 8:32

Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path. Psalm 119:105

May we turn up the volume on Truth; let His light shine in the darkness. I know it can feel impossible, but we DO have what it takes, with the help of the Helper! And we are able, my friend, to rise to the challenges before us. Allow hope to enter in; choose life, grace and beauty over the suffocating voice of darkness. May we choose to listen to the right words; believe that this season, hard as it may be, has massive potential to also be beautiful. 

xo

To My Boys!

Sweet, baby boy! You are already one month old. How in the world did that happen? We were just making our very hurried trip to the ER, weren't we? You were just brand new! I don't want to forget the buttery soft feel of your skin, the heavenly scent of your baby-fine hair. Your ears and tiny fingers are absolute perfection in their unbelievably, miniature forms. I love everything about you, Daniel Wayne. I don't want to see this sweet newborn phase disappear but, at the same exact time, this front row seat to your development and growth is remarkable!
Your eyes open wide now and focus in on Daddy, Brother and I. You smile and stick out your tongue in response to our wild antics and you pick out our voices from all others. You crane your neck to stretch and see all you can see. You are strong and smart and handsome and we are not biased. Just kidding. But you ARE all those things, ask anyone around!
Owen is warming up to the idea of you sticking around. He loves to 'pet' you, bring your pacifier when you are crying and read you stories, specifically the one about going on a bear hunt. He can not wait until you are a little tougher and he can wrestle you and teach you how to blow bubbles and jump off the couch and tackle the packs of toilet paper. He is an excellent big brother and you will have endless adventures together.

Owen, my brave, strong boy! You are growing into such an awesome young man. I love your heart and the compassion within, I also admire your drive and persistence- even when it is the cause of some teeth gritting on my part. I am inspired by your imagination and wild sense of adventure. You like bizarre foods like artichoke hearts and black licorice. Your favorite Bible character right now is Gideon and you want to read his story every night. You've memorized Proverbs 15:1, Matthew 5:9 and Colossians 3:20. I am SO very proud of you. It's awesome to watch you choose right over wrong, help without being asked and adjust to all this 'new' with such courage and an open heart. There are countless lessons I can learn from you. I love hearing you comfort your teddy bears, or tuck them into their beds and put them to sleep; amidst all that rough and tough and wild-as-can-be is a genuinely kind-hearted little man.

A month has passed since I started writing this! Time is literally FLYING by. We've been to Florida and back and you were both excellent traveling buddies. Quality time with family was wonderful; it is absolutely incredible watching you bond with grandparents, aunties, uncles and cousins. Not to mention, we were all in desperate need of sunshine and humidity. Now we are back to Colorado and still in search of a new 'normal'.  This season of life is hard and excellent and I'm learning that's okay.. those two can co-exist.

Daniel, you are much more alert now; smiling and 'talking' to us, making our day everyday! We've found our routine (for now) and it feels good. You've had your first taste of watermelon and definitely approved. You're fighting a bit of a cold and have a love-hate relationship with the 'booger sucker'. Thankfully, you are handling it all like a champ. We are so thankful for your life and the blessing you are to each of us. We look forward to all that is to come and watching you grow and change each day.

Owen, you are now sleeping in a big-boy bed and continually amaze us with your gigantic vocabulary and remarkable ability to communicate. I just asked you if we should shoot hoops or do a puzzle and you replied, 'No, none of those options..' Your prayers melt me into a puddle and when you came running up to me to announce, 'Jesus lives in our HEARTS!' I thought my heart might explode. Have I mentioned that we are proud of you?! You also make us laugh all the time with your silly antics and well-timed movie quoting abilities. Don't ever stop being you, my little man.. because YOU are awesome.

I thank God for the privilege it is to be Mama to you both. Owen and Daniel, I love you with all of my heart. I'm so far from having any of this figured out and, lets be real, sometimes I'm a total wreck. But we can take this life one moment at a time; choosing laughter and grace as we journey together on this wild adventure.
xo

The Day I Wanted To Quit..

Incredibly sweet and magical moments are happening in plenty over here; there is a big brother falling in love with a little brother, lights are strung on a tree and mugs have been filled with thick, creamy eggnog. We are smack dab in the middle of a winter wonderland, right in time for Christmas. Cheeks are rosy and the fire is crackling. It is, indeed, glorious and, for all intents and purposes, life doesn't get much better than this!
And yet...
I'm struggling.

Having two babes is HARD. The hardest thing I've ever attempted, actually. There is no guidebook or blog post that can fully prepare a girl for the changes and adjustments of 'life after child birth'. Thanks to Owen, I was 100% more prepared for this round of sleepless nights and happenings within my own body. However, round two is actually 'life after child birth all WHILE chasing a two year old'! And while words of wisdom, extra hands and frozen casseroles certainly lessen the blow, the learning curve still feels like a bucket of cold water dumped straight on my head!
I'm a mess. A ridiculous, hormonal mess. I float high on butterflies as I witness priceless moments, watching my boys bond, surrounded by exceptional family and community. And then I crash. Hard. Because it's Monday and everyone resumes life as normal and I'm supposed to somehow make 'normal' here on my own but it seems so ridiculously impossible.
It's just me and these two tiny, precious, frustrating human beings that I am fully responsible for. How am I qualified for this?! The two year old I had figured out and we've been buddies for what seems like a lifetime. And the newborn is, for the most part, very low maintenance and chill! But combine the two and we start resembling a gigantic train wreck. They wake up at the exact same time and desperately need me and I don't know which to go to first. They both want to be held, they both need food. One is mid diaper change when the other starts yelling from the bathroom that he needs HIS buns wiped! And that 'winter wonderland' is actually a crisp 12* that we can't usually venture out in, making us all stir crazy and somedays there are just.so.many.tears. How is anyone ever 'ready' for this?!

And I don't want to be depressing. I love my boys more than life and I am so thankful and we are undoubtedly BLESSED beyond measure.. and there will be plenty of posts for all that goodness. But right now I desperately need to be really real and talk about the really hard. Because I know that I'm not the only mama gasping for air here. Or maybe you're not a mom, but you are facing a brand new challenge and questioning whether or not you have what it takes. This can not just come naturally to everyone else but me. Right!? I sleep in 1-2 hr segments throughout the night and then try to face a new day with a brave face but it all comes crumbling down at some point between cream of wheat spilled all over the kitchen floor and the fifth load of laundry needing to be folded.
There are no days off. There is no calling in sick, even when the fever rages and the head ache pounds and 'mastitis' becomes a painfully real part of my vocabulary. We post the sweet pictures not the ones of the trashed house and the dark circles under bloodshot eyes. There are smiles and the expected, 'It's all so wonderful' comments and for the most part... yeah, it really is bliss..  but then we go home and in the dark of the night there is the occasional wondering... where do Mom's go to resign?! So I'm going to be brave and say it, if no one else will. Sometimes I want to quit. Sometimes I don't want to be the Mom. I want to run away for a day and go ice skating, drink hot chocolate and simply let someone else be in charge!

It was in this slightly depressed, pity-party state of mind that I dragged myself into Owen's room for bed time. We opened up to a gem of a story in Judges 7; it turned out to be a pep talk straight from God...
Our reluctant hero, Owen's current favorite, is Gideon. He is preparing to battle the Midianites. Now, these people had the nasty habit of swooping in from the eastern lands right before crops were going to be gathered; them and their friends and their infamous camels, and these Midianites would devour and trample and cart off all of the Israelite's harvest. Gideon has finally risen to the challenge and mustered up an army of 32,000 men. But we are told that these harvest wreckers from the East 'had settled in the valley, thick as locusts. Their camels could no more be counted than the sand on the seashore.' [Judges 7:12] Safe to say this was a sizeable threat.
Imagine Gideon's surprise when 'The Lord said to Gideon, "You have too many men. I cannot deliver Midian into their hands, or Israel would boast against me, 'My own strength has saved me.' " [Judges 7:2] So, albeit reluctantly, Gideon releases anyone who wants to go, anyone 'trembling with fear'.. a whopping 22,000 men! This leaves our leader with a sweaty brow and 10,000 battle-ready men.
But God's not done. Verse four has Him telling Gideon, "There are still too many men." And in a bizarre test of 'do you lap water like a dog or sip it like a proper gentleman?' the warriors are drastically reduced to a mere 300. Three hundred men to make a stand against an army as vast as the sand on the seashore!? And it is then that God says, 'Yes! You're ready!' From a military standpoint this was an absolute impossibility. Even if Gideon had been a tactical genius, which he wasn't, this was quite literally a suicide mission.

You know where this is going, though, don't you? Because God is involved. The God who operates through the weak to accomplish His grand purposes. The God who delights in coming through when we are at our lowest; Redeemer of situations that seem hopeless. Those 300 Israelites win the battle and they conquer those saboteurs! In a strange turn of events, this victory comes without the Israelite army ever even having to raise a finger! They ring the enemy camp, break clay jars and let light stream out into darkness. Then they watch the enemy destroy themselves in absolute chaos because God went to war for Israel, for Gideon. And He did it in ways no one expected.
Please read this story. It's incredible. [Judges 7] My take on it, though, darkened state of mind and all, was that all glory went to God for this victory because Gideon had been stripped of any and every thing that gave him a shred of confidence for winning this battle. By the time God was done with His weeding out process, Gideon was bringing nothing to the table. Nothing, that is, but a willingness to trust and obey. Acknowledging our fragility and the fact that we don't actually have what it takes, is the first step towards victory.
Paul knew this well. God had said to him, "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness." And so Paul chose to boast about his weaknesses, 'so that the power of Christ [could] dwell in [him].' 2 Corinthians 12:9

So, I'm not bringing this message to you from the victor's circle. I still have much to learn. I am oh-so-weak and learning that it's okay to admit that. His power is being perfected in me; ongoing process. And this battle that I am in, the one where I must choose to fight for my boys, fight for my marriage, fight for joy amidst the mundane, yeah.. it's ongoing and it is for a lifetime.
The Enemy whispers in my ear that I do not have what it takes and, you know what, he's right. Me and myself.. we fall short every time. But if I simply choose to show up, I have a God who will fight for me. The days will be hard; hard that takes my breath away, hard that empties me of all I am, strips me of my armor and then sends me to the front lines. But it's in the hard that His power is made perfect! It's in the hard that He gets the glory because there is no way that I can pull this off on my own. And ultimately, I'm not the one who will do the fighting; God will go to battle for me.
And so I sing these lyrics by Matt Maher,

'Lord, I need You, oh, I need You

Every hour I need You

My one defense, my righteousness

Oh God, how I need You'

And I'm encouraged by what Ann Voskamp said, 'Ultimately, what seems like futile work that's taking an eternity today - is exactly what may make the most difference in eternity.' Because all this that seems like nothing, the endless diapers and the 'No, you can't climb your bookshelf like a monkey!!' and the rocking and chasing and loving and spanking.. it matters. My mother-in-law told me that it actually matters MOST of all. And so yes, there was a day when I wanted to quit (and more are bound to follow) but I won't! Because this role, this job, this being a mother thing... ready or not.. it shapes society and it changes lives and it effects eternity. And so I will show up. I am like those clay jars in all their fragility. Because it's only as the jars were broken that the light was able to shine out into darkness around the Midianite camp. And this journey breaks me down but I will let the light shine through all my cracks and then I will watch, in awe, as God fights on my behalf.
'But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.' 2 Corinthians 4:7

Story for the Books!

We're calling it a story for the books... your birth story, that is. It really is fitting that your entrance into our world be grand and exceptional. Fitting because your time spent in the womb was very simple and uncomplicated. In the midst of life and multiple jobs, chasing your brother and moving our family across the ocean, your womb journey wasn't always front and center in my mind. That's not to say you weren't anxiously awaited, sweet son. But carrying you within me was blessedly 'easy' and did not require much out of the ordinary.
That's why I say it's fitting that you entered our lives with flare; fitting that the tale of our wild ride be told time and time again, my boy. You will leave your mark on this world, your journey will be remarkable and you will do things in a way that is unexpected. And it all begins with this story, this one that is truly 'for the books'......

The early morning hours of November 21 found me analyzing the repeated tightening of my belly and questioning whether or not I should let Derek head to work that morning. Once I got up and started moving around, however, I quickly realized that yes, this was the real deal and no, Derek could not go to work! In spite of feeling perfectly normal in between contractions, we didn't wait around too long. Owen's Nana came over 'for a party!' and Derek and I hit the road.
We had an hour and a half to drive which seemed completely reasonable when I originally chose that hospital. With contractions coming every 2-3 minutes, though.. I was starting to re-think that game plan. In between contractions I was reading different articles to Derek on 'how to deliver a baby in the car'. We were joking about it all and at the very same time we both knew it was a legitimate possibility.

By the time we reached the mountain pass, my contractions were one minute apart and lasting for a full minute. Derek kept me breathing through each one and let me squeeze all the blood out of his right hand, all while keeping his left hand firmly planted on the steering wheel as he discovered the maximum speed of his truck! I would have been an absolute train wreck if not for the calm of my husband and the comforting presence of Jesus which was unmistakable in that truck.
As we entered the city, but still had another 30 minutes to the hospital, I knew we weren't going to make it. I was ready to push that baby out! Derek reviewed the plan with me; first step was telling him when I couldn't wait a second longer so he could pull the truck over. (As I type this, I am once again blown away by my husband and thanking Jesus for equipping him with the strength and level headed-ness to make me feel safe throughout the entire journey!) Thankfully, Derek's mom happened to mention, 'If he's coming too fast, there's always the hospital on Nevada.' Even though we did not know the exact location of this hospital, we exited off the interstate as soon as Nevada became an option. Derek asked his phone to call that hospital but was connected to an ER in Reno, Nevada! Needless to say, Siri was officially fired after that, but at last we saw that sweet, blue 'H' sign!

Within five minutes of reaching the Emergency room and being wheeled into a curtained off area with a cot, our son entered the world. We literally made it without a minute to spare. It was chaos in that room; people everywhere, bright lights and noises and scrambling around. Apparently, they don't deliver babies in there on a regular basis! I asked the ER Dr. if I could push and he turned the question around on me, 'Umm... well, can you?!' (I'm willing to bet this will be a story in his book, too!) I had been praying all the way down the mountain and then it was show time; I was ready and our little man was born. All the chaos faded when they handed him to me. Just like that, I was hopelessly in love.
I can't tell you how nervous I had been about that part. I know, I know... the love for your other children doesn't decrease upon arrival of another. But I couldn't fathom how or why that was actually possible. I couldn't, that is, until this little man was in my arms; at that moment my heart could fully grasp this remarkable truth. Derek says my face took on a glow; a look that he had not seen throughout the pregnancy, a knowing that I could (and already did!) love this little boy with 100% of me. This discovery of new love felt like fireworks in my chest, it was wide open spaces and the freedom to embrace it all!

Daniel Wayne Pearl arrived at 8:00 A.M on the dot. He weighed 7.11 pounds and was 20 inches long. We didn't know those numbers right away, though, because they didn't have an infant scale in the ER. The room continued to swarm with nurses, doctors, paramedics and students all bustling around. The nurse that cut the umbilical cord accidentally cut the Dr. as well, adding to the excitement! Then I mentioned that, out of all the different levels of pain I had experienced that morning, my arm was killing me. Their investigation revealed a tourniquet that had not been removed after they put my IV in! Did I mention the chaos in that room? I was floating, though. My baby boy had arrived; he was healthy and sweet and snuggled against me, I had my husband's hand in mine and I was perfectly content. (At least until I mentioned that it might be time to deliver the placenta... 'Oh yes! I think you're right!' was the response.)

When it was clear that they couldn't do much more for us, Daniel and I were loaded into an ambulance and transported to the hospital we were originally headed for. Derek followed closely behind and we were met by a group of nurses and staff anxiously awaiting 'the story'. Apparently, we were the talk of TWO hospitals that morning. What a whirlwind. What an entrance our little man made. I love that his birth brought JOY and the hope of a new life to the ER, a place so familiar with tragedy, pain and sadness.
In the quiet after all the scrambling, Derek said I was still glowing; I'd just fallen in love again! And to top it all off, there was french toast on the room service menu! Owen came with his Nana and Papa after a few hours and finally met this long awaited 'Baby Brudder'. After the initial meet and greet, he was more interested in the remote control for my hospital bed. But Owen is warming up to the idea of having Danny stick around and he is well on his way to being an excellent big brother! I can only imagine all the stories I will add to my collection because of these two little men I have the privilege of calling my sons. Our family doesn't tend to do things in the normal way; this birth story is a perfect fit for our repertoire!
All glory to God for the safe birth of our precious son, for going before us (literally, as we flew down that mountain pass) and for His faithfulness in our lives. He makes all our stories worth telling; He is the orchestrator of all the details and we are nothing without Him!

The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. Lamentations 3:22-23

The LORD is my rock, my fortress, and my savior; my God is my rock, in whom I find protection. He is my shield, the power that saves me, and my place of safety. Psalm 18:2

God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Psalm 46:1

Peace with a capital P

Today Owen and I ate macaroni and cheese for breakfast. We sat on the floor and we clinked our mugs of milk and as we giggled, I savored. Then he chased me around the house with his 'jelly gun' until we couldn't possibly chase anymore and we absolutely needed a gum chewing session. We adventured outside and discovered the dirt hill to beat all dirt hills and we played and excavated and pretended. And then he continued to dig those fingernails down deep into the earth as I simply sat there and soaked it in; the sunshine on my back, the concentration of my little man's face, the wonder of living a day that will never come around again.
Yes, I know every second should be lived to the utmost and I'm aware of the inspirational quotes regarding our full presence required in each moment. But somehow this concept becomes much more tangible when tomorrow happens to be the day that 'Baby Brudder' is due to arrive. Of course, I don't know that he will abide by that schedule. But it's safe to say that our lives are on the brink of being forever changed in countless, incredible ways and that requires that right now, right here- we savor!

It's been a wild journey since leaving Hawaii. 'November 20th, give or take a few days' has always been a deadline in my mind. The start of a new chapter; this week is also when my nesting instinct demands our arrival wherever we're going to live for the immediate future. Since leaving our tropical home we have slept in 11 different beds, a plane and a truck! It has been spectacular. But, at last, we are able to 'settle'. And, as if that in itself was not gift enough, the settling is taking place in a beautiful home where we will house-sit for the next few months. God's plan is so magnificent and His timing is, quite literally, perfect. We are here and we are ready!
Colorado is.. majestic and breath taking, significantly lacking in humidity and blessedly full of family! It's been a good month. Owen experienced his first snow, his first painfully crunchy boogers and FISHING. This is an entirely new version of 'outdoors' and we are soaking up every bit of it. Kai approves, as well! Derek and I have been enjoying memory lane as we drive the dirt roads we grew up on, frequent our favorite Mennonite bakery and unpack the boxes that we stored almost 4 years ago. My husband is also working full time WHILE taking steps towards starting his own excavation business. I am so proud and thankful and, as always, inspired by him.

Jesus has given me an unexplainable amount of peace and grace throughout this entire transition. From the outside looking in, I probably should have been more worried about how the pieces would fall into place. But, for the most part, I just... wasn't. And this is not because of anything within me. It is my nature, and current state of full-blown pregnancy hormones, to desperately need a PLAN! That makes it glaringly obvious that God is in control here and meeting us so faithfully each step of the way. (Also, Derek is sworn to secrecy regarding any strange emotional displays or the amount of mint chip ice cream that has recently disappeared from the carton. We all have our moments..)

My devotions have led me deeper into the stories of Ruth and Esther the past few weeks. Stories of women who were courageous and deeds that were daring. We should dive into their incredible lives in another post. I just mention these beauties because of what we must have in common: Peace amidst uncertainty. Peace with a capital 'P' because it is Jesus. Peace that walks with each of us through the hard and the unknown and the downright scary; He leads us forward one step at a time. My journey is infinitely different than that of a daring, Moabite woman and a brave, Jewish queen. But our Peace is the same.

'Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.' Philippians 4:6-7 

And there you have it; Peace that literally does not make sense and can not be comprehended. Peace that has carried me to 40 weeks of pregnancy, through eight different states and over a mountain of unknowns. Peace that literally stood guard over my heart and mind, armed and ready to do battle with fear, as we journeyed. Peace that allows me to soak up today and my sweet boy and a hard-working husband, while feeling ready and excited for the arrival of our newest family member. I have 'Peace like a river' attending me and He truly lets me say, and whole heartedly believe, 'it is well, it is well with my soul'!

Cherries On Top!

Gypsy, wanderer, traveler; a part of me, deep within, always resonates with those terms. It's the excitement of a new adventure, a blank page and fresh sights to experience that awaken this part of my soul. Derek says I've been this way since he met me and it seems to be a common trend within my family. None of these terms are 100% accurate, though. I truly cherish friendships formed and, especially now with babies in the mix, definitely appreciate a solid 'root system'. I become restless but don't want to wander endlessly. I long to roam the wide, open spaces and yet desperately need a place to call home. I'm a walking conundrum! 

Thankfully, Derek's Mom found a more fitting term: sojourner, one who stays for a little while and then returns to the homeland. And the 'homeland' may not always be Colorado. In fact, I'm fairly certain our home base will change many times throughout the years. But our little family adventured far and wide, partaking fully of an excellent life in Hawaii, and it seems incredibly fitting that God is now bringing us full circle. We begin a new season of life and the first pages are staged in the tiny, mountain town where Derek and I both grew up. We are sojourners! 

We took six days to travel from California to Colorado, via Washington because our incredible friend from Hawaii let us ship boxes and furniture on her shipping container headed to the mainland! (Did I mention about God going above and beyond anything we could imagine?!) It was an excellent road trip. Owen and Kai were outstanding travel buddies and Derek exhibited amazing restraint in letting me take turns behind the wheel of truck and fully loaded trailer. There was a hedge of protection around us as we journeyed and we know God went before us! 
To break up the 45+ hours of driving we took more than a few pit stops to marvel at the WONDER of God's creation! We drove along the coast, wound our way through endless vineyards and ventured over mountain passes. We visited the Redwoods in all their magnificence and explored a sliver of Seattle. In Yellowstone we watched buffalo meander down the road, walked rickety wooden bridges over steaming sulfur lakes and, of course, OLD FAITHFUL! 

Even if we hadn't stopped at a single jaw-dropping sight, the sheer extravagance of road tripping through the Northwest in FALL would have been enough to qualify this trip as epic. The wide open spaces and off-road exploration was a gift straight from my Papa and I am so thankful! The transition from Hawaii to Colorado could have been completely overwhelming but Jesus arranged the details so well, giving us time to process and prepare.

Now, after a month off from 'real-life', we are ready to regain at least a little bit of normalcy. Derek is hard at work as we speak. God is such a Provider. I was able to arrange with insurance and a new obstetrician on day one here and Baby Pearl and I have already had our first check up. Thank you, Jesus! We shipped Derek's truck over and planned on waiting a few months to purchase a second vehicle, but in another God-is-so-beyond-us turn of events, we have been given a car! Hallelujah! 

Our trip was not without incident and much laughter. Mr. Owen, fresh out of potty training academy, had to develop a unique skill set for relieving his bladder on the side of the freeway. He also gave us a scare by squatting in what we thought was a patch of poison ivy. (Thankfully, California only has poison OAK.) Seriously, though, morale stayed very high; not many tears were shed by toddler or pregnant lady. And Derek's back held up remarkably well, thanks to a back roller that was given us mid-trip! There was an entire bottle of chocolate milk spilled in a certain someone's car seat; thankfully, this only happened 45 minutes from our final destination and that was as gnarly as things got! (Okay, I did get us extremely lost at one point and had to relinquish navigation duties to the 'other woman' on Derek's GPS, but that's water under the bridge..)

The ways that God met us each step of the way (and continually meets us) is so humbling. Whether it be a 'big deal' or a minuscule detail, He is intimately involved. We were unsure of when/where to purchase a trailer to load our furniture and boxes on. Derek made a few calls as we drove and we checked out the Home Depot and Lowe's of Portland. Our hope was to get this detail squared away before arriving in Washington. The options were slim, however, so we kept heading north. In the end, we found a place specializing in the beefy, quality trailer Derek originally wanted and it was literally 10 minutes from our friend's house where our things had been dropped off! TEN MINUTES. Cherry on top of an already unbelievable gift. 
On our second to last day of driving we were shooting for a random town that was simply a decent amount of miles away for us to tackle. As we drew closer, the billboards informed us that this town boasted the local hot springs attraction! After a full day of driving in the rain, that bubbly water sounded positively glorious. But, of course, we knew it was probably unrealistic. We wouldn't arrive until 7:30p.m and needed to unpack most of our suitcases in the hotel room to allow everything to air dry. God did it again, though. 
As Derek came out of the very first hotel we stopped at, his smile told me 'this is going to be good!' Not only had they given him a discount for no apparent reason (besides his rugged good looks and charming demeanor, of course!) but they just happened to have their own personal hot springs! Another cherry on top and as the boys swam, and I soaked my lower half, I knew that this too was a gift from our incredibly good and faithful Father.

Deciding to leave Hawaii was very difficult but God continues to make it abundantly clear that this is right where He wants us. I'm amazed by Him daily. Not to mention, being surrounded by family is such a sweet, sweet blessing! Owen has handled the changes and transitioning like a champion and I know that a huge factor in that is the LOVE poured out on him every step of the way. 

We are sojourners... in search of adventure, ready for whatever God has next and thankful for arms open wide as we venture back to 'the homeland' for a bit. Our journey is so ridiculously blessed and we give God all the glory. We will never truly stop wandering until we meet Him face to face and I can guarantee that spending eternity with the Author of our faith will redefine the 'cherry on top'!

Lamentations 3:22-23 'The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.'