Sunday, September 12, 2010


I'm sitting in my new kitchen. It's ginormous. (How did "ginormous" pass the spell check?) It's embarrassing, really, how big it is. The other day we delivered a loved crib to a single mama from our church. She has an absolutely gorgeous 6-month-old son with the hugest brown eyes you've ever seen. She lives in a small old house with a rotting porch with her mom, her older son, her little baby, and perhaps someone else - we couldn't tell. She and her mom were lovely and very grateful for a crib for their little sweetheart.

We dropped off the crib at the non air conditioned house and hopped back into our comfy, cool minivan to return to our new home where Granny was caring for our boys, much as that little baby's grandmother likely takes care of him sometimes, too. As we drove off I realized how embarrassingly comfortable we expect to be as a family.

In Austin we lived in a 1400 square foot house with two little boys. It was tight but we were determined to make it work until we could pay it off. People live with much much less space, obviously, and although we occasionally longed for a bigger place to spread out (mostly for a bigger kitchen), we were all happy there.

Enter a new city with a much lower average housing cost. We rented a big ol' house (to us) for a year, put an offer on this place in April, closed in June, and leased back to the original owners for two months. Now we're in our new home and are really happy to have more space. But we really aren't any happier than when we had less space.

I know as middle-class Americans we have much more than we need and are terribly spoiled. I know that "on paper," but dropping off the crib at this mom's house was a tangible reminder of how blessed we are. We could be wealthier, but we couldn't be richer, and we wouldn't be happier.

I would be happier if it weren't football season. (Just kidding, darling.)

Monday, September 06, 2010


Some of my most beautiful memories come from when we were struggling daily, monthly, and annually with infertility. How is that possible? At the time it was the most devastating experience of my life.

I look back at joining Hannah's Prayer after 9 months of infertility. What an amazingly incredible blessing HP has been for me over the years. I have been a member now for over 6 years and now moderate two forums. I have met endless beautiful ladies, some whose arms have been filled with children and some whose hearts have been filled with peace and joy as families of two!

Reading some of my old posts in preparation for my support group tomorrow simply warm my heart. Helpful comments from friends like Crunchy Christine who has now advised me every which way on topics like infertility, open adoption, breast feeding, and anger management. I get to see how God gave me peace and contentment in my life even before my arms were filled with my two precious blessings, and how He has grown me in the past 7 years.

Tomorrow I go sit with a group of ladies (no idea how many folks will turn up) who are currently struggling with infertility and my purpose is to point them to the God of healing and love. He loves us whether we feel it's true or not - it's just a fact. Whether I have faith or I don't, God is sovereign and holy and loves me. When I am angry with Him He still loves me. When I feel like I am not getting the good that I deserve, the truth is that I'm getting much more than what I deserve to be called His child.

Easy for me to point to God now that my arms are filled, right? Well that might be a valid point, but it doesn't make His promises and his word any less true. It's just hard to see clearly in times of personal crisis. It was for me, it is now in different situations, and it will likely be hard to see clearly for these ladies. I just need to continually remind myself that I cannot heal their hurts, but God can.


My support group starts tomorrow. I was going to write about it when I heard on the TV about how lack of sleep can affect preschoolers FOREVER! So what am I supposed to do about that? Start bedtime at 6pm the minute my husband walks through the door so those kids can be asleep by 7:30? Drive myself absolutely INSANE taking it all upon myself to force those boys to go to sleep how, by holding them down in their beds and taping their eyes and mouths shut? I don't think so. I want those researchers to come to my home and get my kids to sleep by 7:30. Wouldn't that just look like an episode of Leave it to Beaver?

I have to make lunches for tomorrow. No time to prepare for my support group. Can I have a snack now? It's only 9:35 p.m. The kids have been asleep for less than an hour and I got an, "I hate you, Mommy" from my little angel. Perhaps all this nonsense is meant to be a distraction for me and I shouldn't let it.