Quiet Christmas

If you read this blog regularly, you know how much we love Christmas. Every little thing is so wonderful, and it really is my favorite time of year. But this Christmas the stockings are hung, but will remain empty. And there are no gifts under the Christmas tree. It wasn't even planned this way. It's just that as the season continued on, we realized it was getting later, and we didn't care about the gifts.

This weekend will be spent just the three of us.  Tomorrow night we are having a pork loin roast with green beans and leek and potato soup. Then onto mass where most of the parishioners will be seeing Nora for the first time. And finally home to cuddle up all cozy, drinking hot cocoa with the marshmallows I'm hoping to make tonight. I've got cinnamon rolls planned for Christmas morning, to be enjoyed with hot coffee in front of our electric fireplace. It will be quiet, calm.

I bought Christmas cards last year, managed to write out 2 and then gave up.  Nora has been fussy and wanting to be held nearly 24/7 lately, and it was just too much.  I planned to make edible treats for some family members this Christmas (and caramels for T!), but those will have to go out for the New Year.

I think, "I should feel guilty, I pretty much disregarded all the Christmas things this year."  But I don't.  I feel content.  The tree is beautiful.  We'll enjoy carols and good food.  And I'm more than happy to just enjoy this little family of mine's first Christmas.  I stumbled across an old post while looking for something and it was the reminder I needed again that this home, this life I'm leading is Holy ground.  And what better time to remember that than at Christmas?

I hope that everyone has a wonderful Christmas or Hanukkah.  Being where you feel most loved really is the best gift, a reminder of our blessings. 

French Friday Mini Adventure

 Blue necklace from 31 Bits, made by women in Uganda....I get compliments on it everywhere!

Yesterday we were out of power all day.  All the dang day.  It came on at exactly 3:25 this morning, waking me.  What a way to start the day! 

However, yesterday I had gone for coffee and window shopping with a friend.  At an antiques store I had spied a milkglass crucifix candle that was beautiful, but didn't pick it up.  It called to me last night and so today I spoke with G about it and decided to go back and get it before it was snatched up.  Luckily it was still there, and now is sitting with a beeswax candle in it (so I could show G).

Then I stepped in next door and found a carved wood frame that suits our home perfectly.  We're not shabby chic, and in fact, our home certainly has more of a chic with antiques, but not too worn look.  However these pieces are excellent to make it look a little less stuffy.  Look for it when I finish up one of our art walls.

And then I stopped for lunch at a little place called Soups On.  It was pretty good food.  The asparagus salad with chopped eggs was delicious.  And they served Kerrygold butter with the bread, which took this place from nice to wonderful in 2 seconds flat.  These stores are in old homes with front porches (much like the homes a bit north of us).  So I sat outside on the porch to eat and watch the world pass by. 

A simple day, I'm home now browsing etsy for other pieces for our home.  I keep an eye out for chalkware statues of saints, antique christening gowns, and even came across a carousel horse G and I have both decided is a necessity for a future playroom (who doesn't want their own actual carousel horse?).  Life is beautiful.

Sanctuary

Last night I attended a service that was similar to Matins, with Psalms being sung by our men's choir.  It was beautiful, with a candle on each side of the altar being extinguished after each section until it was only the Paschal candle left, glowing in the center.  A loud bang, signifying the closing of the tomb.  Silence in the dark.

Tonight I attended Holy Thursday services.  As I carried the oil of the sick to the altar it hit me that this was going to be a long night.....there was incense aplenty.  I think I might possibly be allergic.  I can't even handle much incense in a home environment, but in church it makes me feel like I can't breathe and I spent much of the mass with a handkerchief up that I was breathing through.  Still, it was a beautiful service, with adoration at the convent afterward.

Tomorrow morning I have prayer and then in the afternoon it's Good Friday.  I have a nail, and apparently a role to play.  Wednesday night part of our response included the words "Jesus wept" and it hit me very hard.  The idea of a man who wept, knowing what was to be.  I cannot imagine knowing your whole life that you are to be a sacrifice for people who usually prove unworthy.  But as "God so loved the world" it would be.

Not all was serious though.  I was chastised for not wearing a coat (I feel like I have a dozen grandmothers at church), saying I would catch a cold.  I explained that colds are viral and that I'm a fairly healthy person, but she just shook her head and said, "But you're so pale."  I had to keep myself from laughing....I am pale....it's just the color I came in!  However she is one of my favorites and told me that she can teach me to crochet, so I'm excited.  I signed up for my knitting classes, but they're not til the end of May.

I love this week.  It's such a good time for a last bit of reflection.

Tis The Season

I feel like I'm either doing absolutely nothing or running around like a chicken with my head cut off.  This whole week has been insane.  Had a checkup....my cyst on my ovary is completely gone.  Hallelujah!  I think I've secretly been terrified it would come back and be cancer and with G gone that would be a nightmare.

Anytime I want to check mail I have to plan it, since it's down on base.  So I make a small day of it, checking my mail, filling up the gas tank on base, and picking up staples that we get at the commissary.  Mundane things, but it seems to take a whole half of a day.

And then of course we're closing in on the Easter season.  I was late to church today, and then rushed home to shower (dry shampoo was my friend this morning since I was running so late) and change into a dress to go see Steel Magnolias performed at the local Knights of Columbus hall.  Tomorrow is another talk on immigration for my Monday class, and I've offered to make a dessert for the lunch part.

Next Saturday I have a Seder dinner our church is doing.  Never been to one before, and I'm quite curious.  And then of course we have Palm Sunday, Holy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday and then Easter.  Insanity, as I will be attending all of those (I've volunteered to pick up those who don't drive).  I love Easter even more than Christmas, but with it being just me I thought it'd be calm.  Luckily I won't be cooking a whole meal....I'm attending a friend's Easter get together.

So, that's life in a nutshell right now.  Counting down the days until G returns and can help take care of some of the madness.  I know they sure do ask about him every time I see anyone from church!

*Oh, and speaking of church....I've been watching the new Showtime series The Borgias about a corrupt pope from the 15th century.  I love Jeremy Irons, and he is playing the cardinal who buys the seat of the Pope.  Of course it's a dramatized version, and of course people will use a situation that was over 500 years ago to talk about the Catholic church.  But I think it's a fascinating picture, not really of the church, but of Italy in general at that time period.  It was a time of both extreme beauty in the arts as well as ridiculous amounts of corruption in every level of government.  

Share A Little

The best part of this season when it comes to food is being able to share items with others.  I love baking for G and his co-workers.  I love spreading the joy of the season!  Another piece I was given to review by DaySpring cards is from their Jesus Is The Gift line.  I chose a platter that has part of John 3:16 "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life."  I know not all of my readers are Christian, but it's the Christmas season and I love that I'm able to be reminded as I prepare food for others.  

I love this platter.  It's huge, easy to clean (dishwasher safe) and microwave safe (if you have a big enough microwave, which thankfully I do!).  And it would hold at least 40-50 cookies easy, making it a great choice for get togethers with friends, at church, or for sandwiches on a picnic.  Oh, and it's currently on sale for $9.99!  

I used THIS recipe from allrecipe.com.  I tweaked it a bit because I was using the natural (refrigerated) peanut butter and realized I only had 1/2 a cup, so I did half peanut butter and half almond butter.  They turned out delicious!  I make all of my cookies small, just a little bit bigger round than an oreo, and I got about 50 cookies out of it! 

Giveaway!  DaySpring has offered up a gift code to one of my readers!  So to enter the giveaway to win a code for $20 towards anything at DaySpring cards please leave a comment telling me what you would choose if you won!

For extra entries (and please use a separate comment for each):

* Tell me what your favorite holiday treat to make and share is.  
* Become a public follower on google and let me know you have (or already are).
* Follow me on Twitter and let me know!

Giveaway ends on Sunday, December 5 at 11:59 p.m.  A winner will randomly be drawn and be notified by e-mail on the following Monday.

***Fine print:  I received this platter free to do a review.  I was not paid to do a good review, I just happen to like their products.  Shipping charges will also apply to the gift code, so keep that in mind when ordering. 

Falling

I am about to share a painful reality of my life.  I have put off talking about it to anyone for so many reasons, and just recently felt perhaps it was time to face it.  I spoke a bit to my best friend T about it when she was here, but still was in the "It's okay" mode.  But then I went to this amazing conference and it just hit me.  God met me there this weekend and hit me with it hard.  But the beauty is that in the end I felt relief as I collapsed in His arms.  

The reason that G and I do not have children is not that we do not want them.  We do.  Desperately.  No matter how many times I tell you that we are wanting to put them off, don't believe it.  The reality is that we are unsure if we will be able to have them without adoption.  The reality is that what I was wanting to put off was having to truly find out if I am incapable of it.  I thank God every day that since I was very little I have always known I would adopt.  It was a desire given to me from a young age, and it is the one light in the dark tunnel that I face any time I even think about starting a family. 

We have tried.  We didn't do anything to prevent it for a year.  There were normal months when it was clear it hadn't happened, and in the midst of an international move we were able to make excuses.  But then there were the couple times when I was exhausted.  When certain foods just looked wrong to me.  And then I'd be late.  And within a week or so I'd end up with excruciating cramps and (sorry, TMI) bleeding far worse than was normal, enough that once G actually got scared.  I was afraid to call it a miscarriage.  I felt unworthy of getting to use such a big word for something that at the time seemed such a small thing.  We never got the positive, the announcing it with excitement.  We got hope, and then got to watch as the hope slowly slid right through our fingers.  I had always joked that this baby thing would be a piece of cake, that I had "baby making hips." And yet suddenly I felt like a failure of a woman.  

In these dark hours I was unable to really talk to my husband.  And I got angry that he didn't bring it up.  I got angry that I felt I couldn't talk about it.  And I got angry, because I didn't even know what on earth I would say.  "I'm sorry"?  So instead we made excuses.  We were busy.  I'd been stressed.  And then as we began to socialize more we tried to convince ourselves that now simply wasn't a good time, and that we'd put it off longer.  That we were enjoying our freedom, and with big smiles would go out, socialize, snap photos of what a wonderful life we were leading.  Never mind that I often find my eyes trailing after a toddler as they walk or laughing at something a nearby child did. 

We often speak about adoption.  We even went to the introductory class for the foster to adopt program this summer.  Turns out we don't really know enough people in this area well enough that I would have them be a referral for me.  It hit me hard, I was so prepared to welcome a child into our home, and instead I got to welcome in sadness.  We've contacted a couple international adoption agencies.  With G deploying it's all basically inquiries for now, but next year we plan to begin stashing away cash in our Love and Grace account (the name we use for God's money....tithing, and also for the cost of an adoption, something we feel called to).  But we still did not speak about that big pink elephant in the room.

Well Friday I broke down.  I spoke about it briefly to a few people, something that normally would have been incredibly hard suddenly came like a river.  I attended a MOB (Mothers of Boys) meeting with my roomie just to listen to stories.  I explained to one of the leaders that I didn't have any yet, but that our hope is that within the next 2 years we want to adopt a little boy from Africa.  She told me, "Then you're already a mother of a boy".... I cried.  And when I won a coffee cozy, yes, my eyes got wide like a deer in the headlights, I felt guilty for winning, and eventually had to leave.  

I went back to my room, called my husband and let it flow out of me.  I cried hard enough that night that my eyes were swollen the next day (something I can't remember having happened for a decade).  I told him that it wasn't okay.  That I wasn't okay.  That I wanted a little boy who looked just like him, who told long exaggerated stories just like him.  And that not having that was not okay.  I told him I was tired of making excuses and saying that it was okay.  And he agreed.  We spoke like we hadn't been able to for over a year.  I had been trying to be strong, to never cry about it.  God was in that hotel room with me, allowing me to fall apart because it was what I needed. 

So what now?  Now we talk.  Now we make an appointment with a doctor to check me out.  Now we pray.  I didn't want to talk about it, because I know worse stories and I felt unworthy of my own heartache.  I felt it was so small compared to the troubles I know others have and  I didn't want pity.  But I will take prayers.  Not just that it will be possible, but for strength if it is not. 

Not What I Expected

The Relevant Conference can be broken down into three parts for myself.  

First, joy.  I immediately met many amazing women.  I heard words of encouragement.  I even won something from DaySpring.  I was filled with joy as I waited for what the rest of the weekend would bring.

Second came tears.  Something hit me early on Friday and I spent most of the day crying off and on.  I will share some of it in a later post.  However I can tell you that I had been pretending I didn't mind that G is deploying next year (I had, after all, encouraged him to go).  But I already missed him, missed talking to him, missed sharing all the wonderful things going on with him.....and we had been apart less than a day.  Six months?  No way.  And the fact that it isn't a choice made it even more difficult as I came to terms with how hard it is going to be.  There is no asking him not to go.  The day just kept getting better and better (please note the sarcasm).  The conference did get better and better, but my day kept going down hill as one thing after another left my eyes red.  Nothing bad, just things I really tend to avoid thinking about--- a difficult task when God is so present and telling you it's time to face them.  

And then came hope.  Hope that I can make this blog what I want.  Hope that my marriage is going to be fine as we learn to communicate better.  Hope that I was going to be okay no matter what storm came.  We ended the conference in celebration, long talks late into the night, and hope for the future.

I needed this.  I so, so needed this.  I needed a weekend away.  But more than anything I needed to really connect with women who see the world so similarly.  Women who can be kinda crunchy.  Women who love being women.  Women who struggle.  Women who daily try to remember to lay those struggles at the feet of God and stop being so hard on ourselves.  The last night we listened to a phenomenal speaker, Ann Voskamp, and when she mentioned her husband saying something to her about a nasty case of perfectionism I knew what it meant.  I, too, struggle with trying to have everything together and mentally beating myself up because of my life's mess.  I needed to hear the words from these amazing women.  I needed time in a place filled with God. 

I wrote this post in my head after hearing Ann that last night.  I had fought a headache as I tried to stay through her talk.  After I went back and took a scalding hot shower, something I rarely do.  I remember thinking, "This is bad for my skin, but good for my soul."  That hot shower was the physical manifestation of my weekend.  Something painful that led to goodness.  I got out of that shower, went and sang, went and spoke to others who like me needed this. 

I am so glad I went.  I learned less about blogging that I thought I would (due partially to my missing a couple sessions to connect with other women) but more about my life.  Hopefully there will be a Relevant11.  I think a yearly break to focus less on life, more inwardly is a great thing.  And the coming home made me even more glad as I greeted G with a smile, grabbed his hand and felt His hand in my hope. 

Flourishing Faith

This weekend was amazing.  We got so little done, so few things checked off a list.  But what we did get done was lots of snuggling time.  Lots of talking.  Lots of intimate moments, like a kiss on the back of my neck while cooking.

I cannot change the husband I have.  He is who he chooses to be, and while he's working on change I'm working on patience.  We both hear God asking more of us, and we're both reaching to achieve this.  But I cannot change him any more than he can change my impatient ways.  So we pray a lot.

We could pray so much more.  It's something we talked about last night.

I have tried so hard to go in both directions.  To lead and allow him to lead.  It's hard for me to be more submissive.  But I've been trying.  Encouraging him to make more decisions.  Encouraging him to make plans. 

And the thing I have found is that my faith is flourishing even in the dark moments.  Whereas before I would simply rejoice in the good moments and curse in the bad, I have found myself mentally hitting my knees a lot more in the bad times.  I have clung to our faith because it is the one certainty in our life.  I had a good cry this morning thinking about G leaving for 6 months next year.  And instead of just saying I feel selfish and weak since I know many others do without their spouses for longer, I made myself face that.  And I prayed for strength. 

I have walked a line, trying to not talk about my faith, trying to not not talk about it.  Because while it's a huge part of our day to day life I feel it's extremely personal to me.   It's also a personal choice for others, and I don't push my views.  But today I felt like singing aloud how nice it's been lately.  How at peace I've felt. 

Je Suis Catholique

I got asked a while back about the fact that while I'm Catholic, my family is not.  It's a simple complicated story (aren't they all?).  I've always been Catholic. I was baptized as an infant and spent a couple years in the church.  Apparently I liked to polish the pews during mass rather than go to nursery.  Then my parents left the church, and when I was younger we spent a lot of time at one protestant church.  I remember spinning in circles until I fell down in the basement where Sunday school was.  I remember ugly pastel floral frocks from the 90's.  I remember Easter egg hunts and cake walks and going to the pastor's home for dinner.  I remember we left when the pastor left and the new one didn't suit us as well (the church became less family friendly, if I remember correctly).  And then my parents looked for another church unsuccessfully.  In fact they didn't find their church home, the one they attend currently until I was in college. 

The in-between period was filled with doubt.  When bad things happened I questioned why.  When I was 13 I began developing bulimia nervosa as a way to handle how out of control my life felt.  When I was 13 we moved to a small town that I hated and cried everyday and wrote letters to my parents I never gave them begging them to let me move back to the city with my grandmama.  I now know that God put us there because it was written long before I existed, and G was in that town.  In fact that first day in history class was the first time his heart fell in love with me.  But I didn't know that, in fact I wouldn't know that until long after this, nearly 10 years. 

High school was fine, I am not one who looks back and dreads reunions.  When I was a freshmen in high school a friend was killed in an accident.  It hit hard with us all.  I remember hating God then.  I remember feeling lost those couple of years.   I remember rocking and crying in a closet in my room because I didn't know what to do.  I felt my life was out of my control.  Then I began researching different religions.  I read a lot of religion books, thank God our small town library had quite a few.  I really liked buddhism, it's peacefulness and read book after book about it.  It was almost settled on.

But the Catholic church back home is down the hill from the high school.  And those last couple of years in school I found myself drawn there.  I would go in, sit, and pray.  Sometimes I would quietly cry.  Sometimes I would sit in silence.  I think no matter what I did, I was praying in a way.  And what I found there was peace in my heart.  I calmed.  For those minutes I was not stressed, I relaxed and could breathe.  That's how I knew.

When I went to college I quietly signed up for our local church's RCIA classes (Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults).  In fact it was a couple months before I told my parents, and even then it was hesitantly.  My faith is my own, and I felt it was right.  Since then I have had moments where I went every Sunday and moments where I was angry and didn't want to go.  But I always go back to it.  I've attended church with my parents, and their church is fine.  But every time I am reminded that it isn't for me.  Mine suits me, theirs suits them.  

When G and I were getting married, he was an atheist.  We had many conversations about religion.  For the sake of future children he agreed to attend mass with me.  He warned me he wouldn't change his mind.  But before the wedding without my knowledge G spent a lot of time on his knees praying.  He felt a peace.  He began to believe in God, though I wouldn't know it until after we had been married for a few weeks.  One long night we were talking (he was back in England, I was still in the US waiting for my visa), and he talked about it.  We both cried a lot that night.  I had not pushed him, I had accepted him, trusting God, until that night I felt called to do so.  We talked about Jesus.  My husband became a Christian that night.  

Once in England he attended mass with me.  He liked the ritual of it, the quietness of it.  Neither of us is really suited to loud churches with hands raised high.  Both of us are more private, and though we've began to share our faith with others through our words and actions, we still aren't loud about it.  After we had been married a year G began RCIA, and right before our 2nd anniversary he was baptized (he had never been before), and annointed with oils.  He became Catholic.  

We both love our faith.  I find great comfort in it.  Our little two person family is Catholic.  And our children will be raised in the church.  I do not agree with all things about our church, or even our faith for that matter.  But it is what is the best fit for me.  We've taken flack for it, but we felt called, so we answered.  I could go on and on, but I do think this is far too long already!

Musings On Islam

I was watching something on the middle east earlier today when it struck me that the idea of a call to prayer really is pretty smart.  I know that I myself struggle to set aside time to pray regularly outside of meals.  G and I were discussing over dinner how time in the morning, midmorning, midday, later afternoon and night would be great times to set aside just to pray for help with something, to praise good things that had happened thus far, and to have a bit of calm.  There are days when I pray randomly throughout the day, and I don't believe that prayer necessarily needs to be a formal thing.  I think quiet reflection works best for me.  And it can be as casual as, "Thank you God for the beautiful sky we had today, it had me in awe."  (a common thought of mine....I love clouds)

I'm looking forward to trying this out.  Five times a day may end up being too much, and a simple morning time and night time session might be perfect.  As I continue to work on me, and G and I continue to work on us, I think this will only help!

Thought Provoking

Sarah Mae just posted today (technically yesterday) about being imperfect.  It was a simple, to the point and beautiful post.  I highly recommend it, and wanted to talk about it a bit.  

"He loves me through the failure, because He already knew about my dark, selfish soul when He died for it."

I commented and then thought, I need to share here.  I am imperfect by far.  I struggle in being tolerant, of having patience, of being a good friend and wife. (and the list goes on)  Every day.  It's something I tried so long to hide, because that was how I felt things were done.  I didn't want to be a martyr.  I didn't want to fail.  I wanted it to look like my life was so together.  


But it wasn't.  


It still isn't.  


I have days where I yell and then apologize.  I have days where I don't get anything done I needed done.  I have days lately that find me on my knees crying out for some relief.  


My faith took a huge hit with my marital problems.  But the time things changed?  Last week I literally hit my knees sobbing and praying.  And suddenly there was a turn around.  As if a miracle had occurred within a day or so my heart was perfectly calm and my husband was aiming to do better as a husband, as a friend.


We were saved.  And though there will be rough patches, my knees will be hitting the ground through them.  Because when I try to be perfect, when I try to fix things, I fail.  Every time.


But He never does. 

Near Bursting

It has been a long year.  Finding out we were headed to the northeast.  Family issues.  Marriage is a pain in the ass issues.  Falling in love all over again.  And my heart is near bursting.  I once again feel like I'm standing on a precipice, with the air whipping the smell of life all around me.  I'm reaching out, trying to make friends in this place.  I'm crazy about my husband.  I'm finally getting to put a home together rather than just a place to live.  And to top it all off I spend most days curled up in bed with my 2 dogs fighting over who gets to provide me with the most body heat.  I'm grateful to the both of them.  :)


My heart is near bursting.  I'm content and yet unfilled.  I'm waiting.  Quietly listening.  I know God has huge things coming up for my and my little family.  I know because slowly He's been preparing my heart, changing the infrastructure of my mindset.  My heart has been made larger than I ever imagined.  I hurt for others in a way I don't wish would go away.  I'm glad that I no longer look the other way when I am called to help.  


Like a wise man in the night I am following a star, searching for where it might lead.  I'm learning to quiet my soul.  Because a silent night is a glorious one indeed.

I Try And Love Like Jesus

I was catching up on some episodes of Grey's Anatomy, and I came to the one where Callie's dad tries to "pray away the gay."  And I felt for her.  I have had friends who have had to pretend they were different to family members because that was what they felt their only choice was.  I've been portrayed as the "girlfriend" more than once.  And I am okay with that.  I have learned that although you need to be true to yourself, some people don't need to know every aspect of your life, and sometimes crap like that is necessary for survival.  


I am a Christian, and a Catholic at that.  I believe in Jesus as the son of a loving God.  I believe that God may have indeed not liked the gays in the Old Testament, but then he had a child, and we know how that changes parents (I am not saying this is what I believe, just that since the conservative Christians believe the Old Testament points to this, that this is a compromise).  I don't type any of this to sound flippant.  I know some Christians will take offense, and while I hope they feel as I do, that our beliefs are our own, if they're offended I don't apologize.  I'm offended every time I hear a Christian cry out hateful words to the gay community.  Jesus asked of us to love one another as if every person we met was Him.  I choose to try to attempt this.  If you choose to have moments of hatefulness (ala the Fred Phelps Church) then I will still love you, because God says you need it.  


In the show Callie's girlfriend Arizona said that when her father found out she was gay he asked one question:  "are you still the person I raised you to be?"  I cried during the show and I am not afraid to admit it.  Because I've never heard it put so wonderfully.  I am not a mother, yet, but I do know how I want to raise my children.  I have heard conservatives cry out that they don't like how whorish the gay community is.  It can be, especially when you take a bunch of men (who are young and have high sex drives) and ostracize them from the rest of society.  Oh yes, they explore just like any other young adults.  Do I condone this?  No.  But neither do I condone any straight young adults acting like whores either.  It happens, will continue to happen, but I hope to raise my children to act differently than my peers and I did.  If they do, I will love them anyways, but I hope I will have raised them better than that.  


I know people who as soon as they hear someone is a Christian they expect the judgements to begin.  How sad is that?  I don't live my life like that.  I try not to judge, but the things that cause me to judge the most are liars and hypocrites.  I still love them, because I see the God in them.  I want to change the minds of people.  I want the title Christian to represent more good than bad.  So I am not going to judge people for who they are (which is a whole other issue, the debate on either being born gay or choosing to be gay, and we really don't have time for that).  And it makes me sick those who do, in the name of Jesus.  Jesus is ashamed of that hate, and believe me, wants nothing to do with it.  

Here I was, just drinking my coffee.  I was checking blogs, and something slammed into me like a ton of bricks.  No more rambling, I am suddenly insanely focused on the screen in front of me.  Lovelyn just returned from Uganda.  Her beautiful family is in the process of adopting from there.  And while they feel called to adopt 2, so far they have found one little boy, Clayton, who they are hoping to bring home in November.  We are praying for their family that he comes home so soon.  What a thing to be grateful for this Thanksgiving.

I have always known I was meant to adopt.  I have been playing at it since I was 4.  To me, a family is not just you give birth to, but those you choose, or who choose you.  I have never kept this from G, and in fact he's always been supportive.  But this past year, he's been as eager about it as I am.  We've gotten some weird looks when we talk about it, and generally nosiness about whether or not we can have our own.  As if adopting a child isn't the same.  As if they aren't "your own".  Well, we've never really tried, but as far as we know, yes the parts work, thanks for asking.  We're uncertain of when the time will be right for us.  There are so many ways to go about it, and we are deciding whether to adopt before trying for a pregnancy.  But it's there, and lately I have come across more and more reminders, little nudges on my heart.  And I'm listening God, I am.  With every little child out there who has no family of their own I see Your face, I hear what You have called upon me for.  Feed the hungry, clothe the poor, and love all those you meet.  

My heart goes out to this family.  They have 4 beautiful girls, and they are adding in a wonderful little boy who has cheeks that just induce the ache to pinch!  Seriously, go watch the video.  I love that she talks about how she was led to this boy, that her heart knows him.  I truly believe that God placed this boy on her heart long before she met him.  And her family will be so blessed by him.  

So, deep moment.  Now I will resume my too much coffee, lack of sleep rambling.  But please, do go watch the video, read about their journey.