Choosing Joy Whatever the Weather

One thing I am always striving for, wanting, needing is growth in my relationship with Jesus. I never want to be content with where things are between me and Him. Don't get me wrong, this doesn't mean I never want to be happy or fulfilled in Him. I am (most of the time) both of those things, but I know that I will never understand or appreciate Jesus in His full glory on this earth and that makes me want to know Him as deeply as I, a mere sinful human, can right now. God really got a hold of my life last fall and in these last few months I've felt like I've been closer to Him then I had been in years previous.  I've sometimes wondered, though, how much I've actually grown in spiritual maturity. Two days ago, I got a bit of an answer to that question.

Tuesday afternoon I was at a friend's house in Warman babysitting her kiddos when I got a text from John: "I was in an accident. Not my fault. I'm fine. I'll need you to come pick me up though". My heart sank. I wasn't sure what he meant by "fine". Like, oh my leg is broken but I'm fine. I have a bloody gash in my head, but I'm fine. I immediately called him and he reassured me that he really was not hurt. His voice sounded normal, and my heart started to return to its normal rhythm. He told me that the car was pretty mangled in the front and definitely not driveable. He didn't know yet if it was going to be totalled off. 

Now, a year ago, news like this would've had me panicking. My thought process would've been something like Really? Now? When we're scrimping and saving for our adoption, now our car gets wrecked and we might have to dip into our precious savings? Why God, are you letting this happen? Let me tell you, I was actually shocked with the way I subconsciously handled this situation on Tuesday. This is proof in my mind that God is working and changing me! The first thoughts out of my head were all positive things: John is fine. Thank goodness we have my parent's car for the week, with their car seat. Our car seat will need to be replaced, but Cassidy was reaching the weight limit anyway and we would've had to buy a new one soon. Now we might get one for free! 

This was huge to me. I did not panic (after I knew John was fine. Before that, I was definitely panicking!) I defaulted to thankfulness, to praise. I praised God for the good things in the situation, and I had and still have peace that God will work this out. I'm not saying any of this to make you all think that I have arrived at the pinnacle of spiritual awesomeness or anything like that. No no no no no. Far from it. But I do hope I can encourage you in your walk with God. Wisdom seems to be my theme for the year (not by choice!) My daily devotional is about being a wise woman (based out of the Proverbs). I attended a women's conference last fall all about being a wise woman. I have been asking God to give me more wisdom. And He has. I can see in the way I handled this situation that I am a wiser person then I was a year ago. 

We still don't know the final word on our poor car. If we need to replace it, we probably won't get a lot for it and we will have to dip into our savings to buy another vehicle. I do not like that thought, but at the same time I'm not worried. Throughout this whole adoption process, I've always said that if this is God's will for us, then He will provide all the means necessary.  Simple as that. I do not need to worry. I am commanded not to worry. Just to trust. Choosing joy whatever the weather. The weather may be a bit stormy right now, but God is in control and that's all I need to know. Wherever you are right now, whether it's an easy season or a hard one, God's in control. Trust Him. Cast your cares upon Him, for His yoke is easy and His burden is light. He wants to carry you through this. He loves you!

Why I Think Valentine's Day is Awesome

Let's be honest. Valentine's Day gets a bad rap. Every year around this time my news feed on Facebook starts filling up with anti-Valentine's Day posts, mostly from single people. I get it, I really do. Valentine's Day is completely aimed at couples. It's about love, romance, mushy cards and chocolates. I was single once, remember? I remember looking at the lovey dovey couples around me and wishing I had someone to share that special day with. Now that I do, I still try to be sensitive to those that don't. We've all been there.

**Story: One year at Millar, I received a beautiful bouquet on Valentine's Day. My heart was pounding so hard as I opened the card and wondered if there actually was a guy that had noticed me and sent me flowers. Um, yeah. They were from my parents. Sorry Mom and Dad, but it was kind of a let-down!**

This is my 2nd Valentine's day as a parent and I must say that I have never appreciated it more as I do now. Now, all of a sudden, Valentine's Day becomes a reason to go out on a date. And, as you parents know, once you become parents that just doesn't happen as much anymore! When we were dating, every time we were together was considered "a date." Newly married, we tried to make a habit of going out on a date once a week. Then along came baby, and all of a sudden we were lucky if we could manage once a month. And that's why I think Valentine's Day is awesome. If nothing else, it's an excuse to go out on a date. I don't care any more if I get flowers or candy, or a mushy card. If I can get an evening away with no kid in tow, that is the best Valentine's Day ever in my mind!

*Disclaimer: I love my kid. But you know how it is!

Tell Your Story

I have a vivid memory from my pre-teen years. I don't remember my exact age, probably around 11 or 12. I remember being in our church looking at the bulletin board and seeing a poster. The picture on the poster was of a woman huddled up in a corner with the saddest look in her eyes. It was a poster for infertility. It stated a statistic of the percentage of woman who suffered from infertility and a number to call for help. I remember thinking it was an awfully high number and that I was so glad that that woman wasn't me.

Fast forward 4-5 years. That woman was me. 

Never in my wildest dreams would I, at the impressionable age of 12, have imagined that the woman in the poster would become me. That her story would become my story. When I first found out, I was in shock (obviously) and then I very quickly withdrew. I chose not to talk about it. I chose to suffer in silence. Every night for months I cried alone to God, because I felt that He was the only one I could talk to. As far as I could see, no one else was going through what I was going through, and therefore no one else could understand the intensity of my pain. I'm not trying to say that God wasn't enough. He was and He is. But I honestly believed that I was alone, humanly speaking. I didn't talk about it with my parents or my friends. That summer was unbearable for me. I lost myself in a hole so deep that I couldn't see the light any more. 

That fall I went to Millar and it was there that I first told my story. Each student is paired up with a mentor for the year. The first year students got third year mentors. My mentor happened to also be my hall leader and we hit it off from the very beginning. She stood with me in the parking lot as I watched my parents drive away on that very first day, trying to hold back the tears. I remember a couple months into the school year thinking "I need to tell her. I need to tell her." I was literally drowning. I had pressed it down so deep that it was consuming me. I felt like if I didn't tell someone I would burst. And yet, telling someone absolutely terrified me. I was scared of what they would say. I was scared that I would come across as weak and someone to pity. Eventually it got to the point where I just didn't care any more. I knew I would be a mess. I couldn't even bring it to mind without bursting into tears. I was still extremely fragile. I remember picking the time I was going to tell her and feeling sorry for what I was about to put her through! 

I barely squeaked out the words "Can I tell you something?" before bursting into tears. I blubbered my way through the rest of my story and she just sat and listened. I don't even remember what she said. I do remember that she held me and let me cry. And I remember that right there, in that small dorm room, healing began.

I am so different now. I don't like to think back and remember those days but when I do, I never fail to be completely amazed at where God brought me from. After I told my mentor, I began to tell others. Close friends at first, people I knew I could trust, then I started talking about it with my family, to the point where it even came up in conversation sometimes. I have another vivid memory of sitting in a restaurant with my mom, my sister and my aunt. We started talking about how funny it would be if my mom were to be a surrogate for me and how she could write a book and would call it something like "I'm Pregnant with my Grandchild," and we were laughing! All out, tears flowing down our face, laughing! This was the first time since that day in April when my world came crashing down, that I was able to talk about it without crying, and that I could actually LAUGH about it! I remember thinking right there "Someday, I'm going to be able to use this story as a testimony of God's goodness."

2 years ago I shared my story publicly for the first time. I stood up in front of a packed church and I cried as I shared things that not many people knew. Even my parents heard pieces of the story they had never heard before. I made myself vulnerable because I knew how telling my story brought about healing. I saw how God used the experience to draw me closer to Him and I wanted to bring Him glory by sharing it with others. I wanted other to know that they were not alone. 

Since I've started telling my story, I've seen something miraculous happen. I would get emails from friends, or from acquaintances who would share with me that they too were going through the journey of infertility. Sometimes friends would email and tell me that they had a friend struggling, and would ask if I would talk to them. And I realized, for the first time, that I wasn't alone. There were other women out there, hurting just like I hurt. And I knew that I had to keep telling my story, for them. To help them, to encourage them, to let them know that they were not alone. 

So tell your story. We all have one. Tell it, for you never know how it might help someone else. Someone could be going through something that you've already gone through. Give them hope. Because you never know, a day might come when you feel alone, like no one else understands. And that's when someone might tell you their story.

It's the Little Things

Lately it's felt like life has been put on hold. It seems like everything is hinged on the phrase "when the adoption is over." Especially things involving money.

I'm not a big spender. Never have been. We never had a lot of money growing up and I was taught to be smart with the money I did have. This has carried into my adulthood. I go clothes shopping for myself once in a blue moon. I find unless I can get something for a good deal, I don't want to spend the money on it. That being said, we do like to spend money on outings, as a family or just John and I. We like to treat ourselves once and a while. Since we've been saving for the adoption though, we've made ourselves cut back and only spend money on the necessities (groceries, gas, you know, the FUN stuff).

Especially lately, this has been hard. My parents and brother are leaving in a few weeks to go to Belize to visit my sister. If we were not saving for the adoption, we would be going too. I am sad about this. Of course, I want a baby more, but I am sad to be missing out on the memories they will be making (and the hot weather). Plus I just miss my sister.

I feel bad saying this stuff. I am beyond grateful that God has led us to adopt again and that we are in a place where we ARE able to put money away towards it. I know how blessed we are. Especially today.

Lately God has been bringing little things into our lives to help us lighten the load. Last week a man in our church received a $100 grocery card as a gift, and he passed it on to us. My sister-in-law was cleaning out her freezer and had more hamburger meat then they knew what to do with, so she gave a bunch to us. I have so appreciated all of these gestures. I've realized that some people can't give straight out of their pockets, but helping in ways like this is just as good! Today we received another very special blessing! Our youth pastor has a ski trip planned for this Sat for the youth and anyone else who wanted to join. We so badly wanted to go, and it wasn't even going to cost that much. We talked it over and decided as much as we wanted to, we should just say no this time. Today we were approached by a lady in church who asked us if we liked to ski. I said yes, and she said she wanted to pay for us to go skiing this Saturday.

I cried right there. It's not like this ski trip was a once in a life time opportunity, but it was something that I thought would be fun and I truly believe that God likes to give us gifts to make us happy. He used this person to give us a wonderful gift. It made my day and now I'm really looking forward to Saturday!

So I guess I'm trying to say thank you. Thank you for lightening the load for us. Thank you for praying for us and for our baby. Thank you for being the body of Christ to us in a real way.