Tuesday, October 7, 2014

Whispers of Hope (Adoption)

So as you know, we're apparently on the long journey of adoption. The loooooooong one. The it-feels-like-this-isn't-ever-going-to-happen journey. There are days when my heart is just broken, where I just wanna scream "why can't I have my daughter already?!" But most days I'm just numb...almost in a daze where the adoption is concerned. People have even stopped asking how it's going, it's been so long. And I can't blame them. I don't have any new information, anything different to tell them. It's the same now as it was two years ago...only now most days are more bleak, more of the thinking that's it's never going to happen. Back then, I would get excited about the "list" coming out. I would wait with anticipation for the email...the email that simply said no file was found. And then I'd be crushed all over again. I'd go from high hopes to agonizing despair. There was anger, confusion, frustration, impatience...you name it. Now it's just what I expect. I don't get excited about the list coming out. I don't wait with anticipation for that email with the file attached. I'm just numb--that's the best way I can describe it. This simply is not the journey I saw us on when we signed papers 2 1/2 years ago.

And yet...from time to time, and just when I need it most, come whispers of hope. Little things that reassure me we are on the right path. Little things to remind me that this isn't the path God chose for everyone, but it IS the path He chose for us. Why? I have absolutely no idea. But I trust that He knows far better than I do what we need, what she needs.

Take the other day, for instance. Even though my husband thinks I'm nuts, I've been wanting a chandelier or pendant light for above my bathtub. I just think they are pretty. So of course I've been looking--I believe he regrets the day I ever found the facebook online garage sale pages. LOL. Anyway, I found this beautiful pendant light, one that perfectly matched all of our other lighting fixtures. And, as is par for the course, I was about 5th or 6th in line for it by the time I said I was interested. I held out no hope. I never thought it would get to me.

And yet...it did. I was contacted by the owner and told it was mine if I wanted it. By that time, I'd had the chance to think about it and wondered if I really wanted to get it. But everything about it was so perfect. So I agreed to meet and purchase it.

I hadn't thought much about my outfit that day. As usual, it was yoga capris and a t-shirt. But I had to do some other errands that day so I decided to pick one of the nicer t-shirts I had, my Show Hope one. For those of you who don't know, Show Hope is the adoption foundation of Steven Curtis Chapman. I'd gotten it a few years back and it was still in great condition.

When I arrived, we made some small chit chat, exchanged money and she gave me the pendant light. Then she noticed my shirt. She asked if I happened to be an adoptive mom. I explained we were in the process. She told me that they had 3 adopted children--two of which were from China. When I explained we were headed to China as well, she asked which province. I explained that we weren't officially matched, but told her the name of the province where our little one is residing. She said, "That's where our son is from!" We proceeded to stand there, two complete strangers, for over 10 minutes, sharing a bond neither of us expected to find.

It was a breath of fresh air...a whisper of hope. Something so small, yet such a huge blessing. It was just what I needed. A little bit of reassurance that God's not done with us yet. He still has a plan, and one day we will know what it is.

I can't say with 100% certainty that this little one is our daughter. But I CAN say with 100% certainty that God has us here, chasing her file, for a reason. Maybe it's because she is ours. Maybe it's because, in following her file, we will find our daughter down the road--where we wouldn't have waited this long if it were not for following this file. I honestly have no idea. But I trust the One who does.

And I'm sure after reading all of this, there are some of you who think I've lost my marbles. I know there are those who think believers like myself, who find God in the little mundane moments of everyday life think we are simply searching for something to believe in--a way to explain away the lives we live. But the truth is, when you have a relationship with someone, be it a wife, husband, parent, child, sibling or friend, you know them...you know how they work. You see the little things that no one else does, those simple things they do for you to show you they love you, that they were thinking of you. And I know my God, I know my Savior, my Jesus. I know that He does in fact, delight in the little things in my life, in showing me every single day just how much He loves me...that He was thinking of me. Sometimes they remind me of His glory--like a beautiful sunset or sunrise, or the smile of a child. And sometimes they are what I like to call whispers of hope, little ways of reminding me He is here, He is in even THIS, and He is still in control...even when I cannot see past today.



Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Chosen

Moving is never easy. The endless piles of things to put away, boxes yet to be unpacked, trash to deal with from empty boxes, painting, cleaning, arranging and rearranging...and all while regular life must go on. Moving to an entirely different state, AND away from everyone you've ever known, has it's own unique challenges on top of the regular ones. The excitement of the new and uncharted territory, of starting over, beginning again--has its ups and downs.

I absolutely LOVE where we live. I love our neighbors, I love our home, I love our oldest's new school and I love our new homeschool group for the younger 3. Although I was hesitant to look for another church home, I've fallen deeply in love with the one we've found here. And, as I'd mentioned to both of my brothers a while back, there is something easier about being in a new place altogether--one where I don't turn every corner and have a memory of daddy staring me in the face. I don't have to remember him sitting in my living room, laughing at my poker table, bowling with the boys on the Wii, or coloring in the dining room with my daughter. A new place is a new beginning--a starting over in a new normal.

Don't get me wrong. I WANT to remember. I WANT to picture him with us, doing things we love. But I NEED to do it on my own time, in my own way. I already have little things that sneak up on me and tear me apart on the inside without a moments notice. I don't want or need to be in a place where it's almost an hourly guarantee. Call it denial if you must. I call it self-preservation. I call it survival for the sake of holding it together and keeping the little shred of sanity I manage to maintain most days.

I know we serve a loving God. I know that He has my best interests in mind and that, although I cannot see the bigger picture, His ways are better than my own. And yet, for this last 16 months, I have felt so distant...struggling to convince my heart what I know in my head...that God is good, that He knows all my hurt, all my pain. I can tell myself and believe with all my head that daddy went when it was time, that he no longer suffers, that he is better off--that there is a bigger picture I cannot see, a bigger reason for my loss. I know in my head that God only takes us when our work is done, and not a moment sooner. But convincing my heart has been another matter altogether. I could not fathom for one moment that, while I knew God was with me, that He was truly beside me, seeing my pain and longing to bring me closer to Him through it.

And then I knew. I knew in that moment that He is here...truly HERE, in the thick of it with me. He not only sees my pain, He feels it. What burdens me, also burdens the heart of the living God. I cannot begin to explain to you how I knew or what changed. All I know is that in that moment of worship, my walls were torn down and my eyes were opened. He broke the barrier I'd created around my broken heart, took hold of me and held me like no other. He picked up the pieces of my broken world and is ever so gently, ever so graciously putting them back together, one by one.

My relationship with my Jesus, is in a new place. I no longer have a God who I turn to in times of trouble or times of joy. I no longer have a God who is out there somewhere waiting for me to grab hold of him in my time of need. Instead, He is my Healer, my Redeemer, my Confidant, my Wonderful Counselor. Before anyone else, my husband included, He is the one I turn to with my pain, my joy and also my every day, my every moment. What I knew with my head before I now know more than ever with my HEART. I am CHOSEN. He loves me more than I could ever possibly comprehend and He's not somewhere waiting for me to reach out for him. He's right beside me, simply waiting for me to trust Him with the details, waiting for me to lean on Him, and not my own understanding. I cannot put into words the difference that heart-knowledge has made in my life.

I don't know where you are, I don't know what you're struggling with, I don't know your pain. I don't know the trials you face, the temptations you fight, or the fear or anxiety or hurt you are going through. I don't know your thoughts or all the secrets you hide. But I know the One who does. Whether you believe it or not, whether you can fathom the reality or want to deny it altogether, THERE IS A GOD WHO KNOWS YOUR NAME, WHO KNOWS YOUR PAIN, WHO KNOWS YOU BETTER THAN YOU KNOW YOURSELF. And He LOVES you, sweet friend. I wish you knew that, deep in your heart...just how desperately, deeply, unconditionally he loves YOU. Because you see, you are also chosen...

1 Thess. 1:4 "For we know, brothers and sisters loved by God, that He has chosen you.."

I pray, sincerely, that one day soon you will see it too...


Wednesday, August 13, 2014

(Not My) Lessons Learned

It seems as though I have an over abundance of opportunities lately to learn life lessons. Between moving to another state and having to make friends all over again, losing my dad 15 months ago, surviving our first year of homeschooling, and still maintaining this adoption process, I have weekly if not daily lessons I'm learning. It's a good, albeit exhausting, thing to go through.

However, I think the lessons that resonate with me the most, that leave me pondering the longest, aren't even my own. They are the things my daddy learned--many the hard way--that I am realizing more and more the longer he's gone. I'll be honest (because he would've said so himself), he wasn't always a good man. Of course, none of us are ALWAYS good...and he was no exception. Like anyone, he could be mean, short-sighted, and make poor choices, some big some small. But the closer he came to the end of his life, the better perspective he had and the more he lived life intentionally. There are many things I want to emulate about the man I called "Daddy". There are others I don't. The following list encompasses the lessons he learned that are becoming apparent to me more and more each day...

1. Life is short. It ends unexpectedly and we all wish for more time.

2. The choices we make on a daily basis can have lasting effects over a lifetime. For example, until he realized his health was in jeopardy, he didn't put a lot of thought into what he ate and how he cared for his body. We have ONE life and only ONE body--we must treat it with the utmost care.

3. Relationships are what YOU make them. You can't control other people, but you are most definitely responsible for your own actions. You get out what you put in. My daddy chose to not put the effort into his marriage to my mom as he should've (for whatever reason). It cost him both his marriage AND time with us kids. Obviously it's not all one sided, but he could've done more on his part--he later said so himself.

4. Time is the one thing you can never get back. You MUST make the most of every day. If there are places you hope to see one day, NOW is the time. If there are things you need to say, NOW is the time. There is no guarantee that you will get the opportunity if you don't do it now. My father had always wanted to go see Vegas. It never happened. He'd also planned to make a video that chronicled his opportunities to share Jesus with others because he said he had some amazing stories. He never got around to it. Oh how I would've loved to hear those stories.

5. You can spend your life working to have THINGS and end up neglecting those most precious to you. Early on in his marriage to my mom, Daddy was focused on working hard and having nice things and, as he later put it, "chasing the almighty dollar". If he thought he could get wealthy doing something, he tried it--many times to the detriment of his marriage and his finances. And he was miserable doing it. Later on in life, he was content to have a roof over his head, food on the table, and time with us kids. And he was utterly happy. Things will never make you happy--but time with those you love will.

6. How does the saying go? "To the world you may be just one person, but to one person you may be the world"--or something like that. I think too often we get caught up (especially in today's get-famous-quick society) in being known or being famous or doing something big--rather than realizing that sometimes the most important thing we can do is to be known in the lives of those around us. My daddy didn't make any major contributions to society, but to his grandkids, he was an incredible source for Godly instruction and encouragement. To this day, the one thing that sticks out to my middle son about his Papa was that he was "always telling him about Jesus"--and he loved that about him. Many times it's in the everyday moments that our lives have the biggest impact.

Obviously, none of these things constitute rocket science. In fact, they are things we are told from many different sources, many different times throughout our lives. But when you're faced with looking back on the life of someone you've lost, these lessons take on new meaning. There are soooooo many things about my dad that I hope to develop within myself as a parent, a friend, a neighbor--so many good qualities I hope to have. But sadly, there are things I hope to take to heart, from these lessons I saw him learn the hard way--so that I will not make the mistake of repeating them myself. As parents, we always want better for our kids. We want them to have more, do more, experience more and be more than we ever had, did, or were. So while there are things I know he would've done differently if he had life to live over, I pray these are things I never forget, so that I can at least learn from the lessons life taught my daddy.



Tuesday, August 12, 2014

If I Never Hold Her

I think the day or two following the list release are the hardest. It's the let-down after the anticipation, the utter crash after being hopeful. It's the questions, the longing, the struggle, the pain...

Last night I awoke at about 4am gasping for air, sobs wracking my body. But they were sobs of joy. I'd just received an email telling me we had it, we had her file, we were finally, officially, legitimately going to be a family...I was so completely overwhelmed with emotion that my body simply convulsed in sobs of joy.

But then I woke up. It wasn't real. It wasn't true. Everything wasn't alright. I was back in the middle of life as it actually is--in the middle of this roller coaster ride of an adoption, with seemingly no end in sight. So I tossed and turned and attempted to go back to sleep, eventually succumbing to my exhaustion.

I don't know how this all ends. I can't see the light at the end of the tunnel today. I can't give reassuring words of hope to my kids who continue to ask when their sister is coming home and what is taking so long. Today it feels as though I'm at the end of my rope, wrought with exhaustion, questions without answers, frustration, confusion and pain.

And yet I know...I know that if I never hold her, He still does. If I never come face to face with her in this life, He knows her name and His plan for her is great. If I never hear the name "Mama" uttered from her lips, He will not leave her orphaned...for He has a home for her, a family with a hole only she can fill. For He cares for her more than I could possibly imagine...and although I cannot see it now, His plan is perfect.

So I attempt to rest in the shadow of the Almighty, trusting Him with her, with us, with the future. I breathe in, breathe out, and keep going...

'But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me.'                      --2 Cor. 12:9


I know His grace IS sufficient.



Thursday, July 31, 2014

All The Things

**Please understand this post is completely serious and spoken from the heart. I'm not being fake or trying to come off in any way other than completely honest. If you don't believe me well, then you don't know me--and you're welcome to get to know me or just move along.**

Some days I look at my life and I just don't get it. I don't believe it's real. I don't understand why we are where we are. As I've mentioned before, as recently as yesterday, life is not always a bowl of cherries 'round here. It can be hectic. It can be downright crazy (um, hello?? I have FOUR kids). It can be hard and sad and just plain stinky--which I firmly believe is pretty much everyone's life everywhere on any given day, because we are normal people trying to navigate this thing called life. But it's also beautiful, unbelievable, and 100% paradise (as my beautiful Aunt Kendra likes to say). It's filled with people I love, in a place I love, doing what I love. Paradise.

I've been told I'm "spoiled". (Sadly, I let that bother me simply because the person who said it doesn't have a clue who I am and simply made a judgment call based on material observation I suppose.) The truth is, yes I love my life. But I don't in anyway deserve it. And to be honest, I could give it all up tomorrow without a second thought. Because it's just ALL THE THINGS. It's stuff. It's material possessions. It's not who I am, it does not determine my value, it does not make me a better or worse person. It's just stuff. Give me the people that I love and I have all that I need. I can make do with way less and be perfectly content. How do I know? Because I've been there. I've lived with next to nothing. I've stood with my mom in the commodities line waiting for our turn at free groceries. I've flushed a toilet with a bucket of water because my dad's electricity was shut off for lack of money to pay the bill. I learned early on that happiness doesn't come from things--it comes from within--how you CHOOSE to feel. I've been perfectly content with nothing and I'm content now, having all the things...at least to some degree.

The thing is, I'm actually less content now than I was when we had nothing. It's not that I NEED anything. Quite the contrary--I struggle with the idea that I have things I don't need. **Again--please understand this just me being honest, sharing my heart--I truly truly feel very undeserving of the life I currently have and that is precisely why I'm sharing all of this.** At the heart of the matter, I just don't want to be a consumer. I don't want to go through life comfortable with having all the things and being content within my own walls, within my own life. I want to be used. I want to be able to bless others. I want to be uncomfortable with the idea that there are those around me who struggle every day just to find food and shelter, rather than being content to live as though they don't exist, like it's not my problem. I want to use what I've been given, what I've been entrusted with, to give back, to make a difference.

So I'm starting where I can--with our home. I've decided that my unstructured nature will just have to deal with the fact that I'm going to keep my home in such a manner that it can be used at any moment, to bless those God brings in our path. We will have an open door policy and when God says "help them, host them, feed them, etc" we will. It may be neighborhood children who need a positive environment where they can relax and be themselves. It may be teenagers from our son's school, looking for a place to get away and escape the stress of home. It may be friends, co-workers, or others who need a place to stay. I have no idea. But I do know this home was not given to us for our own comfort, for our own enjoyment. I firmly believe God has blessed us for the sole purpose of being a blessing to others. So that's where we will start--at home.

Here's the catch--I don't think this "idea" was given to me alone. I believe it applies to all of us, no matter where we are in life, no matter if we have a little or have much. As Jesus said in Matthew 25:35

"For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in..." (NIV)

It wasn't a command for the rich or for the poor...it was a command for us all. Won't you join me? How can YOU give back? Can you open your home? Do you have time you can spare to serve somewhere? Do you have items you can donate to a local shelter? Each of us can give, somehow. And for some reason, I believe the biggest blessing will come in the giving...  



Wednesday, July 30, 2014

Being His Mom, Her Mom & Finding Joy in the Journey

So there's not a lot to update on the adoption front. Still waiting. Still hoping. Still frustrated by systems that seem to fail those they seek to serve. You'd think that after more than 23 "list nights" where we wait...refreshing the email button...hoping for good news and a file attached--HER file--only to be disappointed month after month, list after list...that we'd be used to it by now. In some ways, yes, we are. Most days I find myself fairly numb...almost as if I'm in a dream world where I THOUGHT we were going to adopt, but in reality it's just never going to happen. That's most days. Then there are days when I can hardly drag myself out of bed. I put a smile on, keep the peace, shove it deeper inside...because I know that if I allow myself to feel all of the anger and frustration that lies beneath the surface, I may never come up for air. I may be swallowed up whole...some days. I can tell my head a hundred different ways that "His timing is not MY timing" and "God's still in control". And I know that I know that I KNOW that is the truth. But some days, convincing my heart of that is another story altogether. So when people ask how it's going, where are we at in the process, I don't say "It totally sucks. I just wanna fly over and get my daughter already. I'm over the wait and anxiety and the sleepless nights. I'm just done. I plan to leave tomorrow." Instead, I simply say, "Oh, it's coming along. Still waiting and hoping it works out the way we'd like. But we're good." Because that's the easier thing to say. And that's the easier thing to hear. And frankly, maybe if I say it enough, I'll start to believe it too. Some days...

But there are other days...when I have a glimmer of hope, when I see just a glimpse of the bigger picture, and by His grace alone, I'm able to keep going. Because I'm her mom. And I will wait til the day I die if I have to. I will continue to fight for her no matter how long, no matter the road, because that's what moms do. And I'm her mom.

I'm also his mom. My teenager who is struggling to figure out his identity...who is questioning everything he believes...what is right and wrong. My son who is trying to determine his place in this world, and who does so facing pressures and obstacles...even some I've never faced myself. So I need to be HERE--fully present. He needs me to be HIS mom, in this moment, in his time of (so far) his greatest need. I need to walk this road with my son, completely engaged in his trials and triumphs, guiding him where I can, and praying he trusts God to lead him where I can't. Some days that road with him really sucks...I mean REALLY sucks. It's hard and it's painful and it's ugly and it's sooooo not my son...not the young man I know...not the man God created him to be. Other days that road is so incredible I can't begin to describe it. The amount of love and pride I have in being his mom goes beyond words. He is talented, he is dedicated, he is amazing and kind and thoughtful and he has a heart the size of Texas (which I've come to learn is very VERY large!). And I get front row seats to watch him grow--both in the good times and the bad--and I wouldn't trade it for anything. Not one single thing.

And somewhere deep inside, I'm realizing I'm also a very lost little girl who misses her daddy in ways no words can express. In fact, I was holding it together until that very sentence. Because that's what I do. I have to keep going. I have responsibilities. I have people who depend on me. And until recently, going with the flow was easy. We've had a whole lotta crazy up in here for the last 14 1/2 months since my daddy died. I've literally been going from one thing to the next, funeral then his belongings then his estate then starting to homeschool then selling a house then moving then moving again then getting settled in a new state surrounded by new people. So I didn't have to think, or feel. I could just shove it all deep inside to be dealt with another day. But that day has come and I'm finding I'm completely unprepared for the waves of emotion that are fighting to take over within me. I fight on a near daily basis, just to keep my head above water. And sleep, which was once my safe haven, my refuge from the day, has eluded me in these months since daddy has been gone. I'm beginning to realize I need time to heal. I need time to let myself feel all of these things I've trapped inside. I just need more time.

And God, in His infinite wisdom, is giving me just that. Time to heal, time to find my new normal, time to get settled in our new surroundings, time to be his mom, the way he needs me--completely focused on his needs...and I need to deal with all of this, to be fully HERE, before I can be fully THERE with her, getting to know her, letting her get to know me, being HER mom the way she needs me--completely focused on her needs.

So I try to find joy in this journey, in this uphill-downhill-good day-bad day-journey. I'm learning what it is to grieve, to raise a teenager with all of his successes and failures, to make new friends all over again, to become accustomed to new places and things, and to help my family settle into this new phase of life. Little by little I'm surviving, and some days I see the light at the end of the very long tunnel. Just when I need it most, God gives me the clarity I need to see just far enough into that light to keep going, to know without a doubt He is VERY much in control. And He has my best interests at heart...even when I can't see the big picture from here.

Thursday, May 29, 2014

(Somewhat) Short and Sweet

17 1/2 years ago, I fell in love with the man of my dreams (I know, GAG, but it's true!!). 15 years ago today, I married that man. It's crazy to think about, really, because it doesn't feel like it's been nearly that long and yet I feel like I've known him my whole life. It's almost hard to remember life before him. I like it that way.

We've had our really low points, like nearly going bankrupt, losing two babies early in my pregnancy with each of them, Sean having a horrible reaction to medication after surgery that had us (and the doctors) questioning if something was seriously wrong, losing my dad only a year ago. We've never questioned, even once, if our marriage would make it. But there were times when we wondered how we'd get by--financially, emotionally, physically.

We've also had our really great moments--I've given birth to 4 beautiful children, we're in the process of adopting a 5th, Sean has been blessed in business, receiving 4 different promotions at work in just a 5 year time frame! We are now living in a beautiful city that we are growing to love and we are steadily building the life we've always dreamed of. It's been an incredible ride so far!

I say all of this, not to brag by any means, because although we've made mistakes, learned from them, moved on and worked really hard along the way, we deserve none of it. We are humbled DAILY as we look back on the life we've had so far and how bright the future looks.

Instead, I share this all to say--none of it matters. All of our "success" by the world's standards could be gone tomorrow. Sean could lose his job, we could lose our home, our health could fail. We are not promised tomorrow. So in reality, none of it matters. And as far as I'm concerned, with Sean by my side, I can get through anything.

I have an incredible husband. He is hard-working, God fearing, full of integrity. He is smart, he is an amazing dad--he has been actively involved in our kids' lives from day one. He is a leader, a man of character. He reaches out to those around him, aiming to build them up, to encourage them. He believes in the strength he finds in other people, and he never expects more from someone else than he does of himself. He protects me, he values me, he knows all of my deepest darkest secrets, sees all of my sin, yet loves me unconditionally. He is my soul mate, the love of my life, a man for whom I have the utmost respect. He never ceases to amaze me with how he loves me, how he loves our family. He is more than I could've hoped for, everything I dreamed of, and so much more than I could ever deserve.

I made the best decision of my life when I said "yes" 16 years ago, and I do it all again in a heartbeat. I love you to the moon and back, Sean, and I look forward to sharing many more tomorrows with you by my side.


Sunday, May 18, 2014

So Many Times...

So many times I've sat down to start this post. So many times I've laid in bed at night, ideas running through my head on what to say, how to say it. And yet now, when I finally sit down to write, they all escape me...

We've had a lot of life changes in the last 6 months, in the last year, really. I honestly don't know how it's been a whole year. My daddy died...a year and 6 days ago. I've lost track of time since then. In some ways it feels like it was just yesterday. In others, it seems like a lifetime ago. And yet, some days, I have to convince myself he's really gone. I still catch myself preparing to call or text him to share part of my day. I no longer physically reach for the phone, but my mind still starts to think of it.

Grief is a strange thing. You can hear about it, learn about it, read all you can to fully understand how it works. But when it's you, when it's your grief, it's different. It's never what they say it will be. Sure, it follows a basic pattern that experts have dubbed the "cycle of grief", but only in its basic form. And, at least for me, there's not just one trip around that cycle. For me, I believe I've been around it at least 3 times in the last year. And I don't see it stopping anytime soon. I think of it as a grief bicycle. I keep going and going and going.

Don't get me wrong, overall, it's getting easier...overall, I cry less often...overall, it doesn't sting as frequently...overall, I'm finding a new normal and moving on. But there are days...horrible, gut-wrenching days when I don't even want to get out of bed, I don't want to face this reality, I don't want it to be real. There are days when everything is going smoothly and out of nowhere I'm blindsided by wave after wave of grief for absolutely no reason. There are days when it's all I can do to hold it together, to force myself to keep moving, so as not to freak out my kids with the meltdown I feel just beneath the surface.

But there are other days too. Days when I can see something that reminds me of my childhood, of a story my Daddy once told me, of something we once did together...and I can smile. I can be in the moment and think to myself, "Daddy would love seeing this" or "Dad would crack up laughing right now", and truly, thoroughly, bask in the moment, and be happy. There are times when I watch my kids, when I listen to them, and my heart is so happy because I KNOW how proud their Papa would be if he could see them in that moment. And most days, when those moments come, I'm able to tell them just that--and not break down.

We've had a lot of changes in the past year, but especially in the past 6 months. Due to a job promotion, we moved from Oklahoma to South Texas only 6 weeks after finding out. It was also the middle of the school year, so we had a house to sell, new schools to look into, temporary housing to locate in a city we knew nothing about. We had to leave our church home and all of our dear friends, and move to a place where we only knew people Sean worked with. We are now 12 hours or more from our nearest family, except for one aunt and uncle. We finally found a new home after 4 months of being in an apartment, so we've spent the last 2 months moving and getting settled, as well as updating all of our adoption paperwork after the move. And after 5 months, we've finally managed to find a new church home.

We are beginning to find our new normal. We are starting to settle in. And now, as things are finally starting to slow down after this year of changes, I'm finally being forced to deal with all of the emotions that I've crammed down deep inside. I'm finally having to face reality, to go through day to day life with some time to myself once again. And I'm realizing how much of the emotion and grief I've suppressed. It's easy to ignore when your life is chaotic and busy. But once you slow down, when you find time to breathe, it all comes back to the surface and you're forced to deal with it head-on.

So we are working our way to normalcy...or some form of it. I must say, I don't write all of this for you to feel bad for me. I am hurt, I am changed, but I will be fine. And I am truly, utterly blessed. This move has been so good for us in so many ways and it's already beginning to feel like home. And I know one day, the pain won't be as strong, the waves of grief won't wash over me as frequently or with the same intensity. This is my struggle, my issue, and so many others have so much more to deal with than I can even begin to imagine. So please don't feel bad for me.

My purpose in sharing is just to shed light. To show anyone reading this that this is what grief looks like for me. And hopefully, to help someone understand that everyone's grief is different. And everyone's grief is their own--it's a journey only they can take. No one else needs to understand it; no one truly can. There is no right or wrong and as much as psychologists study, they will still never pinpoint exactly what you should feel and when. So if you're struggling today, if you've lost someone, if you're going through a difficult time, please know that what you're feeling is OK. Take as much time as you need to get through it to the other side.

Above all, know that as I walk through this new phase of life and it's unique-to-me challenges, I am praying for you...for all of you that struggle today as I do. I may not know your name, but I know the God who does. So I ask Him to comfort you, to heal you, to give you peace, to bring you to the other side of this struggle stronger than you were before, and closer to Him than you've ever been.