19 Months and 10 Days

That's how long it took Cara to take her first steps. We have been waiting for this day for a long time, so when it finally arrived, it called for immediate celebration. We dropped everything and went out for gelato. (We thought that her first gelato was an appropriate treat for the little Italian.)

When choosing gelato, one must take one's time.

The first taste ...

More, please!

Big smiles all around.

Cara's been on her own timeline from the beginning. (Hello 28 hours and 45 minutes of labor.) She was the most content baby I've ever seen. If something was out of reach, she'd just play with whatever was available. When crawling didn't happen according to the typical "milestone," my husband wasn't too worried ... he knew she'd get it eventually. She did. At 15 months. Then with lots of encouragement, she started pulling herself up and cruising along the furniture.

I, of course, worried when she didn't "measure up" to the milestones. (What is it about being a mother that makes your imagination go crazy?) I pictured all sorts of ridiculous scenarios like a five-year-old who was still crawling. I worried that something was wrong with her legs. Why didn't she want to walk? My ever patient husband reassured me that she was fine, that she'd walk eventually. When he agreed to my request to contact a physical therapist, I think that was mostly for my own peace of mind, not because he thought she needed it.

After a couple meetings with the therapist, I soon realized he was right, of course. She would get it, but she would do it in her own time. So I did my best to relax and let her get to it. And I tried not to worry.

The other night we were all just hanging out in the living room after dinner when suddenly, out of nowhere, she took a few steps. In disbelief, I grabbed my phone to record the moment. After waiting and praying for so long, it was truly a miraculous moment, watching her walk for the first time.

Here she is walking at the ice cream store:

Looking back on it, I realize how pointless my worrying was. In fact, I see now that God's purpose for having Cara walk later was likely to teach me something ... an important lesson that I'd need to learn as a mother. It is this:

I need to allow my daughter to be who she is. I cannot push her to be what I think she's "supposed" to be. And I cannot compare her to anyone else.

As a female and oldest of four, I've always had a tendency to compare myself to other people, and this trait has been the source of lots of unnecessary anxiety in my life. God knew that I could very easily fall into this habit when it comes to raising kids, and in His wisdom, He gave me a very real lesson in learning to let go.

One that took 19 months and 10 days.

I'm sure I won't get it perfect every time, but I'm grateful that God is helping me to recognize the beautiful gift that He's given me in Cara and to treasure her unique individuality.

I'm pretty sure being a mom is the greatest experience I've ever had.

On Parenting

As the mother of a 16-month-old and another on the way, I've been thinking a lot of the kind of parent I want to be. How much do I shelter my kids from the world? How much do I let them learn things "the hard way?" How much do I protect them? What is my greater responsibility as a Christian mom ... making sure they know and love God at all costs or allowing them to make the choice for themselves, with the risk that they might choose a different path?

My husband and I grew up very differently, basically at opposite ends of the spectrum. I grew up the oldest of four in a Christian home. Dad led us in a devotion ("Family Time") each morning before breakfast, we attended church weekly, all my social activities centered around my church youth group. I wasn't allowed to listen to certain radio stations, watch certain movies or read certain magazines. Although I attended public school, because of my nature as a rule-follower, I never fell in with the "wrong" crowd. My biggest act of rebellion was going to Denny's with my friend Rochelle while I was supposed to be in Sunday School.

I am extremely grateful for the way I was raised. I'm thankful for the solid foundation and example that my parents gave to me. My husband's life journey was different. He began his relationship with God well into adulthood. Our vastly different paths to Christ have caused us to have vastly different views of what it means to be a Christian.

When Chris and I were dating, we'd sometimes talk about the future and the possibility of having kids, but the conversations never lasted long because we usually ended up in a fight. We viewed parenting differently. (I lean more towards sheltering our kids, while he leans more toward letting them learn from their experiences.) We knew that if and when we became parents, we were going to have to work extremely hard to come to a common understanding of the kind of parents we wanted to be.

Well, that time has come. And to my great surprise, the early days of parenting have thus far been ones of open, honest discussion, and mutual compromise.

The biggest surprise, though, has been my personal journey. Over the 2.5 years we've been married, I have found myself on a path of growth and transformation. I have begun to realize that up to the time I got married, my understanding of what it means to be a Christian was a narrow one. In my effort to "be" a Christian (a.k.a. follow the rules) I basically avoided the world. God, in his infinite wisdom, gave me a husband who is much more open to engaging the world, and He is using Chris to gently broaden my view of what following Christ in this world means.

On Chris' recommendation, I am reading a book right now that is literally turning my understanding of what it means to be a Christian upside down. (I'd highly recommend The Next Christians by Gabe Lyons to anyone, especially those with a similar background to mine.) Here are just a few examples of what Lyons says a Christian looks like.

A Christian:

... resists the urge to condemn everything that isn't explicitly Christian. He has a capacity find goodness, truth and beauty in most any creation. 

Instead of sheltering my children from secular culture (music, movies, books) that aren't overtly Christian, I should carefully and thoughtfully allow them to experience culture and teach them instead to discern the good from the bad.

If my daughter wants to read a book that all her friends are reading that has content in it that I'm uncomfortable with, instead of telling her all the reasons she shouldn't, I will read it too and then be able to engage in discussion with her about it. If my son wants to listen to a CD with lyrics that I dislike, I will listen to it with him and then have a common ground to seek his thoughts about it.


... models how to effectively engage and contribute to culture instead of training our children to avoid the "wrong."


No matter how much I want to, I'll never be able to fully protect my children from the culture we live in. They'll deal with it at some point, either with my guidance, or without it. I'd rather them learn to engage with the world's culture from a God-focused perspective while still under my guidance, rather than trying to navigate it for the first time entirely on their own.

Instead of teaching our children (either explicitly or by example) to condemn people we see exhibiting certain behavior, we use them as opportunities to talk with our kids about God's desire for us.


... does not expect non-Christians to conform to the same moral code as a Christ follower.


One of the things I never understood growing up was that non-Christians viewed God differently. I thought that everyone was coming from the same perspective I was and so I judged everyone, Christian or not, with the same measure ... the one I learned as a child. This caused me to be extremely judgmental towards non-Christians and all the lifestyle particularities they represent.

It's very important to me that our children are raised to exhibit grace to non-Christians. I want them to accept non-Christians as they are and view them with as much dignity and worth as God created them with.


One last thought that I found eye opening. (And I'm only a third of the way through the book!)


God's purpose for us is not that we live safe and comfortable lives separated from the world. A Christian's main duty is not to protect his children from worldly corruption. 


Chris and I strongly believe that we are called to raise our children to engage in culture and think critically about it. This means it's our job to carefully and thoughtfully expose them to the world, not shelter them from it. The risk, of course, is that our children will make a different choice than we want ... that they will get immersed in the world and lose their focus on Christ. As a new mom, the idea that my daughter or son might choose the world over a relationship with God is terrifying to me.

However, I'd rather face that risk and allow our kids to be who God created them to be than raise children who are little automated, non-thinking clones of Chris and me.

Speaking the Truth

This video has been making its rounds on Facebook. I hadn't watched it, just assuming it was another overly-hyped video that had gone viral around my Christian-saturated Facebook world. But so many people commented on it, that I finally sat down to watch it.

I'm so glad I did. I love it. This is TRUTH. And the part that I love the most is that it is spoken word. Poetry. Art.

I'm sure God is pleased with how this guy is using his gift. Preach it, brother.

How I Found Thanksgiving

This Thanksgiving I'm having a hard time figuring out how I feel. I know how I'm "supposed" to feel, but honestly I don't feel very thankful. Rather, sad and little bit angry. I think of Thanksgiving last year, and I guess the thing that I'm thankful for this year is that last year is over. I never want to relive last year.

But as I was verbally processing all these thoughts this morning, my husband said something that showed me once again why I married him.

"It's not about what we're thankful for as much as Who we're thankful to."

Suddenly I realized that when I focus my thanksgiving on people, traditions, food, material blessings ... all of those things are temporary. So if, or more accurately, when I lose them, I also lose my source of thanks.

There is only one thing in existence that is not temporary. So it makes sense to me that I should focus my thanksgiving on that one thing that I will never lose.

Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.

Hebrews 13:8

I Don't Fight Alone

I have an enemy, of this I'm sure. He hates me and wants me to fail. And sometimes I feel like he's very close to winning.

It seems like the more I start to focus on what it is God's doing in my life, the more opposition I face. It's very hard to make any forward progress when I'm constantly fighting off attacks. I truly don't know how I'm ever going to succeed.

Why is it that life doesn't become easier when I'm on the right track? Honestly, I could use a little covering. Some sort of protection from the devil as I'm trying to learn how to fight.

I know this isn't the case, but I often feel like I'm all alone in this battle ... like God's sitting on the sidelines, cheering me on from afar. But I don't need a cheerleader. I need a teammate. I need a defender. Him by my side, in the arena, fighting with me.

Because I will be defeated on my own, I know this.

I wish I could see the real battle. I wish I could see, even just for a minute, what I know is the truth ... that God is fighting with me. For some reason, though, He's chosen to hide reality from us right now. And this makes it so hard to fight with strength, perseverance and courage.

I'm struggling to remember that what I think is reality, that I'm alone in this battle, is not actually real. It's a lie.

The truth is, I do have a Warrior by my side. I have a Defender. I have the King of the Universe, the Creator of all Heaven and Earth, with me in this.

I'm not alone. And the victory is already ours.

For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.
~Ephesians 6:12 

For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face.
~1 Corinthians 13:12

Finding My Faith: The Beginning

As I sit here writing this morning, the sky out the front window is pink. Or maybe orange. Actually it's somewhere in between the two, like a color from Heaven that doesn't exist on Earth. It's pretty amazing.

God continues to surprise me. (Really, why should I be surprised? He's God.)

This morning I got an email from a friend who said she really related to my recent post on faith. (This wasn't the first time, but it was written in a way that really struck me.) It's weird to share something so personal only to find that someone else feels the same way.

Sometimes I wonder why God made me the way He did. I've never felt like a complete mistake, but like maybe (as I so often do) He overlooked the details. Why, when I have the ability to express myself through writing, do I have such a hard time articulating my thoughts and feelings verbally? Why do I want so desperately to do things differently, and I find myself doing the same old thing? Why am I so totally driven by emotions? Why do fear and anxiety have such a stronghold in my life? Will I ever be free of them or will they haunt me forever?

Since my dad died in December, I've had to face the overwhelming fear I've been running from my whole life - the death of my parents. Over the last year of trying to make sense of it, I don't think I've made much progress. I still am confused why I prayed more fervently than I ever have only to watch him die. I still struggle to understand the point of prayer. I don't understand how a God who created and desires intimacy still feels so far away. Why do I cling to something that, in the darkest hours of my life, didn't seem to make much difference?

I guess it's in the face of these questions that faith really becomes faith. When there is no evidence and it seems like anyone in their "right" mind would give it up, stubbornly I still believe. I still believe that God is good and loves me. I still believe that He'll make good on His promises that death is not the end and I'll see my dad again. I still believe that He hears my prayers.

I don't think I've found faith yet. I'm just beginning to see what it might look like in my life. Until I questioned my faith, there was no way to know if it actually existed. Because what I thought was faith wasn't.

Faith isn't what I do on a daily basis or how I think. It's what's left when there's nothing else to hold on to.

The Day My "Faith" Fell Apart

I wondered what it was going to take for me to post again. It's been six months since I last wrote. Nothing major occurred which caused me to stop posting, I just stopped. I was a new mom. I am a grieving daughter. I am a growing wife. And while all these things provided an unending supply of topics to post about, I didn't feel like doing it, so I didn't. And my blog went on an unannounced six month hiatus.

However, there is something I'm wrestling with that I need to write about. And I'll warn you, it's not going to be pretty. It might not even make a whole lot of sense. In fact, I'm mostly writing this for me, to try and put some semblance of order to the thoughts tangled up in my head. So if you're reading it, hang on.

And good luck. :)

---

This morning I realized something big. Monumental, even. Here it is.

I've been a "Christian" for what seems like almost my whole life ... (Excuse me while I interrupt myself. I put quotes around the word "Christian" on purpose, because with this morning's realization, my lifelong flimsy excuse for faith came crumbling down. And for the record, I'm not doubting that I'm a Christian, just trying to express how weak and broken of one I am.)

Anyway, here is what I realized. I've been a "Christian" for over 25 years and yet I have literally no idea what faith means, practically speaking. I talk about having faith, but don't know what it looks like to live out my faith. It's like all my life I've had this carefully built, but incredibly fragile front called faith, and once the facade cracks, suddenly it's obvious that there's not much supporting it underneath. And to be honest, that realization scared me. Everything that I thought I knew about life and God and faith is nothing if I cannot articulate why it matters.

My husband has been the catalyst for this realization. For literally the first time in my life, someone is challenging me to dig into my beliefs and "faith" and find it's roots. And sadly what I'm finding is that there's not much there. And honestly, that is a shock to me.

So after some tears and soul searching, he and I spent some time in Scripture, studying what the Bible says about faith. And although I know we are just beginning to scratch the surface, it feels good to finally, after 33 years, be putting some roots down to support my faith.

On the highest level, here are a few of the things I discovered:

• I am a highly emotional person, and consequently, my faith has been 98% emotion-driven. While emotions in and of themselves aren't bad, they have been the entire basis for my faith, and that's bad. Emotions are fickle and ever-changing. Pretty much the opposite of what faith is supposed to be. Therefore, what I have always ascribed to as faith is actually not faith, but a feeling. So I need to learn what real faith is and then figure out how to have it.

• According to what we found in the Bible, faith is, plain and simple, a stubborn belief in something with little or no evidence to support it.

So faith is my belief that Jesus Christ died for my sins. Faith is my belief that I will be with Him when I die (and that my dad is now.) Faith is my belief that He has forgiven me and loves me unconditionally.

Faith is not praying. Faith is not going to church. Faith is not reading the Bible every day. Faith is not what music I choose to listen to, how I spend my time or money, what car I drive or what I choose to eat. And it's not a lot of other things which many Christians call faith.

• Faith and obedience are very closely related. In fact, they're in a circuitous relationship. Faith is the means by which I am able to obey God. And obedience is the evidence of my faith. So basically, I can't obey God without faith. And if I don't obey God, I don't have true faith.

While I know this is the crux of understanding faith, when I try to think about what this means for me, my brain feels like it's ready to explode. I do want to work through this, and I will, but I am at my limit of logical, analytical thinking for today.

It's been rather heart-wrenching and emotionally draining to realize that something I thought was rock solid is actually quite flimsy. And in some ways, I feel like even though I've been practicing for years, I'm still at the very beginning of this whole Christianity thing, trying to figure out what it all means. Like I thought I was a couple decades in and suddenly I find myself back at the starting line.

Also I would like to publicly thank my husband, Chris, who is courageous enough to challenge 33 years of my thinking, along with much of the rest of evangelical Christianity. He is a brave man and I know God put Him in my life to call me to something greater.

I cannot wait to explore what that is.

Clinging to Hope

In my darkest moments of grief, I am bombarded by doubts. I find myself wondering whether it's all a sham ... this whole God thing. I miss my dad terribly and I want more than anything to see him again. I start to wonder if I want this so badly that I am willing to believe anything that tells me I will? Am I clinging to a false hope?

According to Miriam-Webster the definition of the word hope is "to expect with confidence." It is closely related to the words "trust" and "faith." Those three things ... hope, trust and faith are my lifelines. They are what keep me afloat in the rolling waves of grief.

I'm expecting with confidence that I will be with my dad again. I'm trusting that what God promised in His word will happen. I'm clinging to my faith that it's all real - that He's real.

And then a couple days ago Peter smacked some sense into me.

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls.

So I suppose missing my dad is today's trial. I am surely suffering grief, but at least I know it's not meaningless. As awful as it is, if it ultimately results in praise, glory and honor for Jesus Christ, then I'll gladly accept it.

The Truth

Poetic.
Succinct.
Powerful.
Clear.

Best of all ... true.

The Terrifying Face of Love

I had a monumental epiphany tonight and it completely scared me.

(Disclaimer: I'm still trying to sort this all out in my mind so I'm not sure this post is going to make a whole lot of sense, but I want to share it anyway.)

So here is my earth-shattering epiphany ... are you ready for it?

I love my daughter.

I know what you're probably thinking, "Um, hello. You're her mom. You're just now realizing that? What is wrong with you?"

But stick with me.

The epiphany-causing part of this realization is not the fact that I love my daughter, but the depth of my love for her. It's SO much deeper than any emotion I've ever felt before. I've never experienced anything even remotely close to how I feel about Cara. It's taken the concept of love to a whole new level.

And this realization scares me. A lot.

What it comes down to is a lack of trust. Basically, I'm scared to trust God with my daughter. Even though it's completely backwards and doesn't make any sense, I'm afraid that because I love Cara so much, He's going to allow something to happen to her in order to teach me something ... maybe surrender or acceptance. Isn't that a ridiculous and twisted fear? I "know" that God is good and loving and compassionate. I "know" that He works all things together for good. But I also know that this world is a fallen, broken, messed up place with lots of pain and heartache. I know that many people suffer unfathomable losses allowed by God for His greater purpose.

Frankly, I'm afraid that my loving Cara so much will cause God to allow that to be taken from me in order to show me that all I need is Him. (See what I mean about being backwards? Seriously ... I'm a mess.)

But even in the midst of this consuming fear, I also see the other side. After the volatile final seven weeks of my pregnancy, how can I ever doubt God - the One that chose to give us a baby girl who is the picture of perfect health?

A little background: At 33 weeks my placenta started showing signs of calcification and the doctors were convinced that I would have to be induced early to save my baby. I was monitored twice a week and at every ultrasound the baby had to score at least 8 out of a possible 10 points for the doctors to feel okay with letting things progress naturally. Every single time our baby scored a 10. But it wasn't just barely a 10. She would complete all the necessary actions within the first few minutes of being on the monitor. Every time. She literally defied every expectation of our doctors. She came naturally, two days before her due date, and the first five months of her life have continued to demonstrate that despite what the doctors predicted, Cara is the epitome of perfect health.

Is this rambling making any sense? Even as I'm writing, I feel like an out of control ping pong ball, bouncing wildly back and forth between what I know to be true and what I feel (read: fear).

The Truth is that God loves me more than I can even begin to fathom. What I feel for Cara? That's just a tiny fraction of how God feels about me. He won't allow anything in my life without a purpose and whatever He allows me to experience, without it I wouldn't become who He wants me to be.

Bottom line. The deepest desire of my heart is to please God, whatever it takes.

Or whomever it takes.

This Is It

So, after ten years at Compassion, this is it.

I always wondered what it would take for me to leave. See, in the beginning I hadn't planned on staying for more than two years. I thought I'd get my feet wet in the working world, get a couple years of work experience under my belt, and then move on to wherever it was that I would find my career. Compassion was just a stepping stone. Or so I thought ...

But God has this crazy way of directing our footsteps so that while the view forward is confusing and quite literally a blind walk of faith, the view looking backward makes perfect sense. As if everything has been planned out ahead of time.

It's true in my life. See if you can follow this. Following a seemingly random (but completely God-directed) series of events, I started off working as an assistant on Compassion's marketing team. After four years in the marketing department, I moved to the communications team and worked in PR and corporate communications. From there, I moved onto the advocacy team, doing a lot of creative and online communications. Then Compassion reorganized and I found myself working on the web team. (Along with a hot single guy named Chris.) At the exact time Chris and I started to contemplate a relationship (which was impossible as he was about to become my supervisor) I was recruited for a job on the field communications team. Seeing as I really wanted to date Chris, I promptly took the job. I did that for a couple years and again last fall Compassion reorganized and I was moved onto the CIV team where I reside today.

All that to say it's been one wild ride. God kept me here for more than three times as long as I originally thought and, good thing because I ended up meeting my husband. Coincidence? The position I took that allowed me to actually date him was the perfect combination of all my past positions and a great fit for me. All along I thought those job moves were random when in reality, they were moving me towards my husband and dream job.

Ten years. That means I've worked there for almost one third of my life! It's been a joy, Compassion. You've been so good to me. I will miss you.

The Comfort Zone

I'm 37 weeks pregnant today. So technically that means I'm full term. The baby could come any day and be fine. It could be today.

The thought of being mom in a few weeks (or days!) is both incredibly exciting and totally intimidating. See, I'm by nature a comfort zone person. I like the idea of change more than I like change itself. I mean, look at my life. I've worked at the same place for 10 years. I live in the city I was born and raised in. Heck, I even married someone whose name is the same as both my mom and my dad's. And my brother's. And mine. Obviously, I like my comfort zone where it's safe and secure. And nothing is unknown.

But I've discovered something disturbing about the comfort zone. There is a distinct lack of faith there. In a place where I am totally safe and secure and everything is known, I have no need for God. I am not stretched. I have no reason to grow or change. It's comfortable, yes, but stagnant. And honestly, a little boring. Living in the comfort zone does not allow me to have the abundant life that Jesus talks about.

That's why, although I have literally no idea what I'm doing when it comes to things like labor, childbirth and raising a child, I'm looking forward to the approaching challenges with great excitement! And although I've had some pretty big moments of failure in this recently, I'm trying to keep the fear at bay. Because there's no way, even if it were possible at this point, that I want to stay in the comfortable, safe place I've been. I need this if I'm going to grow.

God is calling me to bigger things. He's calling me out of my safe place to a place of unknown.

Stan Walker

Working at Compassion has it's perks. Yesterday was definitely one of those. Stan Walker, winner of Australian Idol, came to visit the headquarters and did a special chapel service.

Now, to be honest, when I heard that an Idol winner was coming here, my immediate thought was Oh great. Another wannabe pop star who's using God as a platform to fame. I had prepared myself to be unimpressed.

Um, okay. I don't think I could have been any more wrong. YouTube him. Seriously.

I can honestly say Stan Walker is a true lover of Jesus Christ. He has perhaps the most powerful story of redemption I've ever heard. He shared how God saved him from a life of abuse, crime, drugs, alcohol, women ... and much more. But the thing that is so moving is that when he talks, it's obvious that it's more than just words. He really means it. He clearly believes God has called him to be a wooer of people to the love of Christ. He sees God's allowing him to win the singing competition simply as a platform to praise the name of Jesus. It's unbelievable to hear his authentic love for Christ, knowing his whole story.

And on top of that, you should hear the guy sing. He sang this one for us...



All I can say is I look forward to singing praises to Jesus in eternity alongside this guy.

Thoughts on Marriage: 2 Months

Tomorrow will be two months since Chris and I got married. In some ways, it seems much longer than that. Especially when I think about how much I've had to learn. How much adjustment and change and growth has already happened. Getting married is the best and hardest thing I've ever done.

I think the thing that has taken me most by surprise is how, in the middle of this most intimate of human relationships, I find myself having to cling more completely and more wholly and more fervently to God. I am having to trust Him and go to Him with more frequency. I am having to confess more to Him than ever before.

When I was single and struggling with my desire to be married, I thought my dependence on God and my desire for Him during that time was so strong that it would probably be unmatched by any other time in life. My singleness put me in a position of asking God to fill my need for love and intimacy. It was a daily battle. I would swing wildly from one extreme to the other - from despairing and being consumed by my unfulfilled desire for a husband to the next moment brimming with hope and belief in God's promise to fulfill the desires of my heart. It definitely was a time of growth and maturity and independence.

But thankfully, I was wrong about my desire for God. It was matched, and in fact has been surpassed. Marriage has taken this dependence-on-God thing to a whole other level.

I've had tons of friends get married. I'm a realist. I knew going into this that it wouldn't be easy. I knew it would be hard work. The interesting thing is, though, the things that I expected to be hard actually aren't that hard and things that are hard are things I never expected. I suppose you can't truly ever be prepared for something like this ... at some point you just gotta jump in.

Here's one thing that makes it so challenging: It's having to make adjustments in every single part of your life. All at once. If we could take things one at a time, it would make more sense to expect perfection. But we can't do that, so we have to give each other the allowance to make mistakes and the grace to have second chances.

The amazing part is, though, through all this change and adjustment and growth, as long as I involve God in the process, I'm finding within myself a greater capacity to love Chris.

So ... if that is the result then I say, "Bring it on!"

God's Timing

Chris and I recently discovered something about God's involvement in our story that totally blew us away.

Check this out.

The other night we were talking about many of our single friends. I mentioned how back in early 2005, I had a very revolutionary experience in my journey as a single woman. Being married was something I had desired for many years and I struggled with trying to truly be content to wait on God while still deeply desiring a husband. I felt like every time I prayed about it, I was in a way telling God I wasn't content. The thing was, though, there was no use pretending it wasn't constantly on my mind. It was.

As 2005 started, I made a decision that instead of pretending that it wasn't constantly on my mind, I'd acknowledge that it was and then give that to God. I made a commitment to pray every day for my husband - whoever he was and wherever he might be. Beginning January 1, 2005, I spent my 20 minute drive to work each day praying for my husband. I prayed for his heart for God. I prayed for his job. I prayed for his family. I prayed for his thought life. I prayed for his fears. I prayed for his dreams.

Even though nothing changed outwardly in my dating life, my attitude changed because I felt like I was finally doing something. It was empowering to be able to openly admit my desire and give it up to God.

I prayed very consistently from several months. Around the beginning of April, as summer approached, life got busier and I prayed with less frequency. However, for those three months, my prayer life had come alive in a way it never had before. And my struggle with being single took on a new purpose.

I mentioned this to Chris the other night. He got this knowing smile on his face and told me he wasn't surprised.

Because on April 24, 2005, after several months of soul searching, Chris surrendered his life to God.

Music is My Soul Food

Music.

It makes me dance.
It brings a smile to my face.
It's one way God reveals Himself to me.
There's a joy I find in music that I can't find anywhere else.

But it's not just me.

Watch how spontaneous singing on a French subway wins people over.
(Although sadly they're never able to get to the John Travolta look alike.)

And then there's this video ... one of my all time favorites.


This is the song that does it for me. I can't NOT dance when I hear this one.


What's your dance song of choice?

The Next Chapter

Finally, an update from my brother.
Please keep praying for him.

Stop the Roller Coaster

I feel like I'm on a roller coaster that's going way too fast. It's making me nauseous. Can it be stopped to let me off, please?

I [[heart]] being engaged! I'm way excited to plan the wedding. We kind of started the process, but with so much family stuff going on, it's suddenly had to take a backseat for a while. I'm okay with that, though. There are more important things than my wedding.

Following my brother's daily updates from Reno is rough. I feel absolutely helpless and even though I'm praying for him pretty much non-stop, it feels like I should be doing something. And I'm not. I can't.

I'm having a hard time not being angry at God. I'm struggling because I know how powerful He is. I know He could heal him. Today. Within the hour. Right this second. But He's not. And that makes me angry.

Blech. I feel like I just threw up on you.

I've always hated roller coasters.

He Asked and I Said Yes

I have some exciting news. CHRIS AND I ARE ENGAGED!

I know, right? I didn't see it coming either. Want to hear the story? (Warning: It's kind of long, so if you're interested in the details, read on. For you bottom line types ... he asked and I said yes.)

The Story
Chris and I have always thought it would be fun to take a random vacation day. Not for anything in particular ... just a day off. So not too long ago, we decided on Friday, April 24th and the plan was to take a day trip to Mt. Princeton Hot Springs.

Then last weekend, Chris got sick. I'm talking really SICK - cough, head cold, muscle aches, chills, seriously high fever - the works. He kept getting worse, so on Sunday we went to Emergicare, where they took his temperature (103.3 degrees!) and told him he had the Flu and Pneumonia. So he spent all last week at home, most of the time sleeping. By the time Thursday night rolled around, he was feeling somewhat better, but was still really weak. We decided to call the spontaneous vacation day off until he was feeling better, but late Thursday night, he sent me a text that said "Keep the vacation day. You need a day of fun and I intend to give you one."

We decided, however, against the Mt. Princeton plan. Since he had just spent a week with a fever, Chris didn't really like the idea of spending the day sitting in water that would elevate his body temperature again. The weather forecast was very warm, and we still needed something non-strenuous, so we decided to take the dogs and spend the day up at a park in Denver. We packed a lunch, sunscreen, a blanket and a bunch of books.

We got to Denver about 11 am. Chris parked the truck and, instead of unloading the dogs and picnic stuff, said, "Let's go this way" and headed in the opposite direction. Then he says, "Um we're not actually going to the dog park" and we walk up to a day spa. He had booked us four hours of spa time! (Yeah ... I got a good one.) We did a saltwater floatation thing, a facial and a hot stone massage. It. Was. Awesome.

When we're done, we got the dogs and headed down to the lake a few blocks away and then to the real dog park to let them run. (Welcome to our life with three dogs.)

Then we went to dinner at Bang, this funky little restaurant in the Highlands. After dinner, we wandered a few shops down to this wine shop, where they are having a wine tasting, so of course, we tasted. We popped into the gourmet cheese store next door, then poked around in a used book store.

After we wandered around a while, we hopped in the truck and headed over to Bonnie Brae to get ice cream cones. (It was at this point that I finally started taking pictures. I thought I'd get a good photo or two for my photo blog.)


After ice cream we walked around the neighborhood pointing out what we like or don't like about people's houses. Finally we headed back to the truck.

He pulled into Wash Park as the sun is going down and says, "Let's go walk." So we headed down towards the lake. As we got closer to the water, there were huge clouds of mosquitoes. (I'm not sure WHAT they were doing since this is Colorado, the land of no bugs.) But anyway, we quickly left the water and moved up to this open grassy area. I decided it's a good spot for pictures, so I started taking some and he got goofy.



After a few minutes, he said, "So ..." and then stops. I'm not oblivious ... I know what's coming, so I said, "So ... what?" And he said, "We should go."

So I'm like, "YES I will! Wait ... what?" (Okay that response was all in my head.) But suddenly I'm doubting what I had thought had been obviously coming and I feel stupid for even thinking he's going to propose.

As we walked back to the truck, he saw a cement picnic table and suggested we sit on it. Then he told me that the day is very special to him because four years before was the day he had become a Christian. Um ... WOW. We talked about that for a few minutes and then he got up. I got up to follow him to the truck and he said, "Sit back down!" Then he got on his knee and handed me the ring and said, "Will you be my wife?" I said "Yes" and put the ring on.

It fits perfectly.

The Crazy God Part
A while back, when Chris and I were just starting to get serious, I decided that since I had never even looked at diamond rings, I should probably look at least a little to figure out what I like. So one day I looked at a few web sites and saved a couple pictures of rings I thought were pretty.

Not long after that, I asked Chris if he wanted my input whenever the time might come when he chooses a ring and he said no. He wanted to pick it himself. So after that conversation, I decided not to look anymore so as not get my hopes set on something in particular.

Chris had picked out a certain ring, but then a couple months ago, God woke him up in the middle of the night and told him to get this other one (the one above.) He thought the setting resembled an ichthus fish, symbolic of the fact that he was planning to propose on the day he accepted Christ.

Well look at the ring that I had saved on my computer way so long ago ... the one Chris never saw.
God completely blows me away.

A Journey of Faith

My brother Chris and his wife Valeen left today on a journey of faith - a six week trip to a clinic in Reno, Nevada.

Basically, God is taking him up Mt. Everest, spiritually speaking. His faith and strength are being tested an a way I've never witnessed before.

Chris has struggled for several years with a painful and devastating disease, which recently has become life-altering. Here's more detail, if your interested. (And just to give you perspective, when I stopped by last night, I couldn't even hug him goodbye because he was in so much pain. It was awful.)

Through all this suffering, Chris' true character has become more and more evident. It's been amazing to watch his faith explode even as his body implodes. He's standing firm in his belief that God will heal him. He's not sure when or how - that's up to God - but he's trusting that is will happen. Valeen is believing that too. And so am I.

He's started a blog so that we can all follow his journey and share in what God's going to do.

Visit it and leave him a note of encouragement. He'll no doubt need it. I'm sure his knowing a little of the impact his battle is having on other people would help him endure it.

Also please pray for my brother. He is in the midst of an intense physical, emotional and spiritual battle. Pray for endurance, strength, and healing. Pray also for strength and encouragement for Valeen as she supports him. Pray for all those that are - and will be - impacted by their journey and faith.

It's hard to watch my brother go through this. As the older sister, I want to jump in and protect him from all this pain. I just keep praying that God will honor his faith and heal him.

Will you pray that with me?