Gracie the Wundercat

Get this. I've just been interviewed for a cat magazine about the life of Gracie the Wundercat!

If you remember, one fine winter day in 2010 my little guys and I were frolicking in the back yard after a long winter's nap when we heard a pitiful mew coming from the back of our fence. With a neighbor's help, we rescued a fluffy grey kitten from the fence, got her to the vet, and eventually had to have her right front paw amputated at the shoulder.

We named her Gracie. Partly because it seemed like a funny name for a three-legged cat. But also, because to me she is a reminder of God's grace to us when he finds us dirty and broken from our sin, rescues us, and adopts us as His children, His gift to His son Jesus Christ! By grace we are saved, through faith, so that no one can boast (Ephesians 2:8-9).



Look at her now! She is beautiful, isn't she? She may or may not remember her feral past like I do. (Mine, that is.) She still makes messy mistakes that are hard for us to clean up, although we always do. We love her and care for her because she is ours.

Are you His?

Adopt and you probably still won't get pregnant!

Infertility myth: Adopt and you'll get pregnant.


How many times have you heard someone say, "My friend's cousin's sister-in-law and her husband tried for years to get pregnant. They finally adopted a son, then a daughter. They never did conceive. Isn't that amazing?"

You say you’ve never heard that story? Why not? Because it's totally non-sensationalistic. It makes sense. A couple cannot conceive, so they decide to adopt. Some families with biological children do continue to grow by adoption, but other times a couple does not consider adoption until spending some time and effort conceiving children to no avail. That is how it was for us.

After three years of infertility my husband and I began the adoption process. We decided that we were more interested in being parents than we were in parenting a jointly conceived child. Four months after adopting our amazing son BB, I took a pregnancy test in a Bank of America bathroom and discovered that after four years of infertility, I was pregnant.

Soon the comments began. "You hear about this happening all the time," and "See, you relaxed about having a baby and then you got pregnant," and "I knew this would happen." I know people mean well, I really do. I always pray to respond from a place of grace.

I pick my battles. Sometimes I say, "Yes, it does happen," and sometimes I cite the statistics, "Actually, only 5-10% of parents who adopt due to infertility go on to conceive and bear children." And sometimes, perhaps not often enough, I present the answer I believe the strongest.

I believe that we were able to conceive after years of infertility and adoption because God meticulously planned it out just so.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "Plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to give you hope and a future."(Jeremiah 29:11)

If we had conceived when we desperately wanted to, we would not have BB as our son. If we had conceived when we desperately tried to, BB would not have us as his parents. God knew the plans He had for us and for our firstborn son.

God also planned for LB, born one year and four days after our first, to be his little brother. He needed our DNA to make LB. He needed another man and woman's DNA to make BB. BB was not means to an end to get LB - they were both meant for us.

When I tell people our story four years later, I almost always hear the same comment. “That happens all the time. Why do you think that is?”

I should always respond, “Because God said so.”

http://www.resolve.org/infertility101

Join us!

Check out my gorgeous new button for Held! See it? See it?

Eight years ago, in the thick of infertility, I set out to find a community of Christian women suffering from this dark and often hidden disease. I found Hannah's Prayer! Soon after joining I discovered I was pregnant, only to lose that baby very early.

The women at Hannah's Prayer became my lifeline and some beautiful IRL friends, supporting me through miscarriage, my subsequent 3 years of infertility, adoption loss, and adoption. I now count infertility as one of God's biggest blessings on my life, partly because I would never have met these godly women without having experienced it.

I can't take any credit for this new outreach at all, because God is the author of our faith and experience, but I'm humbled to be a part of this new blog! I just know it is going to minister to many women. Maybe to you, my sweet sister.

Right now we're "open" for a sneak peek, and we're officially launching with content on April 25th, a few weeks before the most dreaded and anticipated holiday for the infertile women - Mother's Day. We'll have posts about surviving Mother's Day (and even maybe enjoying it), primary infertility (infertility with no living children), secondary infertility (infertility after birth of a conceived child), adoption loss, adoption, "What Not to Say," advice for pastors and clergy, and above all encouragement and hope for the infertile woman.

He will yet fill your mouth with laughing,
And your lips with rejoicing.
Job 8:21

I'm just so excited! Come see!

Blessing me today.

Take my hand

I was a little numb at my dad's memorial service. It felt kind of like it wasn't really happening and I was having a hard time connecting. I still look back upon it in somewhat of a blur, but one beautiful image stands out in my mind. Oh, I sure wish I had a picture of it, because it was one of life's amazingly beautiful moments.

After the service when we were led out of the sanctuary, BB came to me and I reached for his hand. He is not a big hand-holder so I wasn't really sure he'd go for it, but he grabbed my hand briefly. My mom and some others walked ahead of us. BB looked at me and gently said, "No," and let go of my hand.

He walked up to my mom, looked up at her and gently reached for hers. He knew she needed his hand more than I. He wore a little suit with a vest and tie, his hair sweetly brushing the top of his collar. My mom wore a black velvet jacket over her simple knit skirt and top. I watched from behind as they walked down the stairs, around the corner, and down to the fellowship hall where lunch awaited.

Although I was a little foggy, this much is clear to me from that day. We have a sweet little boy who loves his Papa Bruce and Grandma. He is sweet like that because of his biological and adoptive parenthood. We are blessed.

Mother of Invention

Today I took my two little boys on a date! We ate lunch at McDonald's, went to see Gnomeo and Juliet in the theater, and then splurged on ice cream! Yes folks, today I ate McDonald's, a whole bag of popcorn (I had to get LB his own popcorn or he would have eaten all of mine), and a dish (or maybe 1.5) of ice cream.

BB drinks a lot, which makes sitting through a movie a challenge. He made it through most of the movie but then at the end needed to go. LB was comfortably engrossed in the movie under a crocheted blanket I brought (thanks, Granny), and I certainly didn't want to leave at that point to take both boys to what always turns out to be a really long trip to the loo.

Because I had to bring so many warming items for our movie adventure I had to bring the diaper bag - which just happened to contain a pull-up. A lightbulb moment! BB agreed to wear the pull-up long enough to pee, and pee he did. The theater was pretty empty so I just changed him into and out of the pull-up right there in our seat. Voila!

We just threw out that puppy on the way out of the theater. Cute movie, by the way.

Silence

I'm really tired. I think the events of the past few months have caught up with me. Also, I had a sick boy last week so I didn't get my two "days off." I had a good time hanging around with BB, though! We went to get the oil changed in the car and he thought that was "so fun." It made me look at the occasion with a fresh perspective. Then we went to the library, the farmer's market, and the grocery store - all of which were very exciting for the wee one.

Those who wait on the Lord will renew their strength (Isaiah 40:31). I think this is true. But I'm still tired. So far 40 hasn't been the happiest year of my life. My Nana died, my dad got sick, my best high school friend died, and my dad is still quite ill. It's not a pretty picture. And yet I will praise the Lord.

Habakkuk 3:17-20 states,

17 Though the fig tree does not bud
and there are no grapes on the vines,
though the olive crop fails
and the fields produce no food,
though there are no sheep in the pen
and no cattle in the stalls,
18 yet I will rejoice in the LORD,
I will be joyful in God my Savior.

19 The Sovereign LORD is my strength;
he makes my feet like the feet of a deer,
he enables me to tread on the heights.

Isn't that something? Even when things on earth look bleak, eternity does not. I still find joy in the day to day. My hope comes from the Lord.

Gorgois!

Isn't it the most? Thelma has designed this beautiful new title picture for our blog. I just love it. Thank you so much, Thelma! First off, it's so creative and took a lot of time, I know. Secondly, it's just so...so...awesome! I am blessed yet again.

I can really appreciate beauty these days. When faced with death (a good friend) and illness (my dad), aesthetic beauty is not a luxury these days, it's a must. Randy asked me earlier today what I needed for myself today. I told him I just needed to experience something beautiful, and I have. My new header, yes, but also a perfect sunny day with a nice breeze and about the perfect temperature - 70 degrees.

Sometimes I feel like I am walking around in a fog. And then I remember that my joy comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth (Psalm 121:2), not from life's circumstances. God created the universe and He created me. I am my best when I am in close fellowship with Him. It's hard to be close to God when I'm on Facebook playing Scrabble and Scramble and whatever word game I can get my hands on. I feel much better when I am outside soaking up the sun and the Son.

So thanks, God, for sending Thelma to my rescue today! Talk about beauty.

Growing Pains

Not the TV show, you silly, this blog. My new header picture is HUGE! Am I allowed to use our professional photographer's pictures like this? Do I need to attribute? Can I make it smaller? What is this blog anyway? Is it a parenting blog, a stream of consciousness blog an post-infertility blog? Do I have to define it? Should I try to? Do I have enough on my plate already? Enquiring minds want to know.

Today on our way home from an errand LB asked me, "Mommy, are we in our neighborhood?" Yes, I answered, we're in our neighborhood. He replied, "I don't think so. I think we're in Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood." I thought that was so funny. How clever! This is the kid who doesn't know the difference between a letter and a number and doesn't care, thank you very much. But he has mad skills, this little brother.

Yesterday morning we went for breakfast tacos before going to the zoo for the afternoon. In the car Randy and I were talking about letting our friends and loved ones know we care about them. LB raised his hand and said, "I have friends who I care about!" Samuel, he said. Samuel is a friend we care about, that's true. But how sweet. My little sweetheart. BB chose Grandma as a friend who he cared about.

Here is the part where, if I was really trying to host a great blog, I would tie in these conversations with my blog title. But I'm not going to. Instead, I'll self-depreciate so I can wiggle out of an editor-worthy finished product. I'll wrap it up, apply some jammies to a sweet angel, and move on downstairs for some housework, mindless TV, and an important phone call I've been planning. There will be time for a glamorous finished product tomorrow. Or 2012. Someday.

Sweetly Broken*

I smell like frosting. Earlier LB smeared vanilla frosting from a friend's birthday cake all over my black sweater. It looked terrible, it was sticky, and I had to take time to clean it up. I was disappointed to have gotten dirty, as I was going to wear that sweater to sing in choir later. Yet now I smell like vanilla frosting. That's not such a bad deal.

Even when disappointing or painful things happen, sometimes you're left with something lovely that you didn't anticipate.

*(Sweetly Broken is a song by Jeremy Riddle)

We were on a break!

Obviously I haven't been posting lately, but I haven't given up posting! I am in Iowa visiting my parents and just happened to be able to attend the funeral of a dear friend today. How sad.

I've had the chance to see my dad and he looks pretty good! He is alert but totally worn out from recent events. We think he is going to be getting stronger every day since the infections seem to be mostly gone and we have said good-bye to chemotherapy. He's getting radiation to continue to address those pesky brain lesions. One day a time is what we get, and each day is a new blessing.

Yesterday I got to cry with my dad for my friend. It was a special memory. He just held my hand while I wept. What a great dad - he didn't try to fix it (who could), he just held my hand. I love my dad.

Later, gater.

(This is an older picture of my dad. He still looks like that except lying down and both eyes open.)

When You're the Best of Friends.

(This is a reprint of a Facebook note, so you may have already read it.)

She was the most loyal friend I've ever had. We met in the 10th grade and were instant best friends. It was a deep and loving friendship. There was a time when we were closer in distance that I would have said she was my heart. In fact, "The Wind Beneath My Wings" was a song I would have ascribed to her. "You were content to let me shine - that's your way," is a good quote to describe her.

When some older girls ganged up on me, Johnna stuck up for me and would have fought for me.

My dad called her Jonah. It was an inside joke. Sometimes I called her Johann because once an Army recruiter called her house looking for him.

When a boy broke my heart nine words from her summed it all up to me and brought me relief. "You weren't ready for it to end, were you." I wasn't. And I'm still not. Not where she is concerned.

There were times I did her wrong and betrayed our friendship. But she always took me back with open arms, no questions asked.

She came to my college graduation in California. She visited me in South Carolina several times when I lived there. My ex-husband was a jerk to her and yet she took it - for me. She gave me a beautiful topaz necklace as a wedding present and she wasn't even invited. She was in my heart, though. I was a terrible friend then, I was hurting and scared, but obviously she waited for me to come to my senses. Which I did and we resumed our friendship. She was a faithful friend.

I was a bridesmaid in her wedding. She was so generous she picked a style off the rack for bridesmaids dresses so we could actually wear them again. I wore it for years. I wish I hadn't finally donated it somewhere and that I could still wear it. I am wearing my beautiful necklace right now and probably won't take it off for awhile. I loved her. She was a considerate friend.

I remember when her sister Jamie let me know that Joshua had been born. I was in Colorado and called just to check up on Johnna. I visited Jaden in the hospital when he was a preemie. Johnna was so good with him and didn't seem nervous at all. "I cook 'em fast," she said. She had a chance to meet my kids that I thought might never come to be. We all ate at Hickory Park together. My youngest LB and her youngest Jessie were about the same age.

Time and physical distance took a toll on our friendship just like it does, but we were always ready and able to quickly pick up. Because of my dad's illness I've been back to Ames twice in the past few months and got to hang out with Johnna and her kids. They're such great kids and she was an amazing woman and mom.

I'm angry. I'm mad that she's gone. I'm jealous. Jealous that other people have memories with her too, and many that were made before she and I even met. And I'm sad. I can cover up my feelings in denial when I'm busy, but as soon as time stops a little bit I just can't believe she's gone. It's especially hard to look at pictures of her. I'm sure I'll go through some albums when I'm home for her funeral. Funeral. How sad.

I'm not ready to let it end.

Music Ministry

I wish I could find a recording of this song online actually performed by Tommy Walker, but for now I just wanted to post these lyrics to a song that brings me great comfort. The actual song is awesome so I'll look for it more later.

I Will Not Be Shaken
By Jacob Park & Tommy Walker

He is my rock, my shield, my fortress
He’s my salvation and my strength
The cords of death, they were surrounding me
But He heard my cry for help

He is my refuge, my high tower
He’s my deliverer so strong
The snares of death, they were confronting me
But He heard my cry for help

Chorus
So I’ll stand and trust I’ll stand in faith I will not be shaken
Bridge
Our God will not be moved Our God will never change Our God will reign forevermore

Jacob Park, Tommy Walker / © 2009 Medic Music, WeMobile Music

Salvation Story Sunday

We all have a story about how we became who we've become. An important part of my story is how I became a Christian after considering myself an atheist, at the very least agnostic. It's a long story, but to make it short there was a time before I married my oops husband that I was broken, hurt, and felt very small. A friend told me about Jesus and how he died for me, and that knowing that had brought her a lot of peace during a low point in her life. And she was so peaceful. And lovely. Her name was Genie.

I accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior after attending church with Genie and her husband for a few Sundays, asking Him into my heart to save me from my sins. We all sin, folks, we call it making mistakes or errors in judgment, but it's sin all the same. Each morning when I woke up to get ready for work I read a chapter or two from the book of John. Each day on my way to work I would experience such great joy listening to praise music and knowing that however bad my earthly situation felt in my heart, the truth was I had a Savior and a God who would walk through it with me.

So off I went, with some little detours, into the world of church services and Bible studies, and eventually music ministry. There I met my husband and many wonderful friends, and I guess you might say I'm a big ol' Jesus freak now. I resemble that remark! It's not like I became the Church Lady overnight, I spent a few years being saved in Christ but not acting like it, but gradually I'm conforming to be more like Him.

Some people I knew before this change don't understand how this became so important to me. I sometimes speak "Christianease" that sounds weird to their ears. I get that! It sometimes sounds weird to me too if I am being honest. Words like "saved" and "my walk" and "the Holy Spirit showed me." It can be like a foreign language.

So without all the verbiage let me just say this: I felt scared and alone and Jesus brought me comfort. My life feels complete because I know that God loves me, and because of that love I can more fully love other people. The Bible promises that when I claim Jesus Christ as my Lord, the Spirit of God, called the Holy Spirit, is present in me always. The Holy Spirit interprets God's word and earthly situations from within my spirit. What others call a hunch or intuition I call the Holy Spirit. All that is good within me is what God has made good. He can make even bad things good. (Romans 8:28 again.)

This was a part of yesterday's post but I pulled it out in order to try to be more succinct. Maybe I'm starting a "Why am I This Way" series. I so, I should have started with "family," but honestly I'm going out with my husband tonight and I wrote most of this last night.

If you love Jesus, how did you find Him? What brought you to reach for His hand? If you're not into Him and would like to know more, email me. I would be thrilled to respond.

I wasn't always this way.

Ever seen "What's Eating Gilbert Grape?" Besides the fact that I think Leonardo di Caprio brilliantly portrayed a boy with a cognitive disability (Arnie Grape), there is a scene in the movie that both breaks and warms my heart.

Gilbert Grape's mother Bonnie is morbidly obese. She spends most of her time in her bed because she can barely walk. Gilbert's girlfriend Becky, played by Juliet Lewis, comes to visit and wants to meet Bonnie. The mother is lying pitifully in the bed and Becky sits down next to her. The mom says sadly, almost apologetically, "I wasn't always this way."

Becky's reply: "I wasn't always this way, either."

Let that sink in for a minute. I think it's so powerful.

How did you get this way? What are the experiences that have really shaped you? Mine are, in order of appearance, family, salvation, divorce, my forever husband Randy, infertility and now cancer. Half of those things are not fun things at all. But those are the things that have really shaped me.

I'd like to say I wouldn't want to trade any of them, but currently I'd like to trade in my dad's cancer for something nice. Maybe looking back someday I'll feel differently, and maybe I won't. We'll see. I do know that I can't take any of them back, and I wouldn't be "this way" had I not experienced those things, good and bad. I like being this way.

Romans 8:28 says, "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." I love this verse. It's one of my favorites. Notice it doesn't say that only good things will happen. It just means that no experience is wasted.

I want to know, what are the top three life experiences that have made you who you are?

Blog Wire

I'm cutting it down to the wire here on my 19th day of blogging. It's 11:03 p.m. by my clock. I need to write earlier in the day so this kind of post ceases. Uncreativity abounds!

Miss Thelma recently listed some helpful articles about blogging like this one. Upon reading them it occurs to me that I might need to streamline my blog in order to improve upon it. Maybe I won't, because the goal of this blog isn't to become a well-read blog, but mostly a way for me to get down my thoughts and keep like a journal. However, the idea of sprucing things up around here is intriguing.

One thing that spruces up today's post is the awkward holiday photo! This just makes me giggle. Enjoy.

18 days in a row

Have I made a new habit yet? I don't know! But I do know that I've enjoyed blogging a lot these past few weeks. A lot has gone on and it's been nice to process those things. I also think I have spent less time on Facebook since I've started back.

Tonight we're all home together. The weeks are really busy with Bible studies and music rehearsals and the support group, so Friday through Monday nights are usually the four evenings we all have free. We'll go back to that schedule next week. I know this is not going to get any less busy as the boys become involved in activities, so for the time being I really enjoy our nights at home.

Tonight we ate leftover chicken taco soup and watched American Idol. I think I fell in love with Jennifer Lopez a little. Now I'm just wrapping it up with a little extra mindless television watching, wondering if I should eat some ice cream or not. Has Randy already cleaned the litter box? Do I really have to fold the laundry tonight or can it wait until tomorrow?

I should get up and quit asking so many questions.

"I don't want you to cry, Mommy."

Big Brother said this to me about 1/2 hour ago. Tuesday nights are late nights around here so I decided to enforce the non-negotiable nap time today. I'm pretty tired myself so I lay down with him. He takes a long time to fall asleep and kept telling me, "I love you, Mommy."

My dad isn't doing well. He could still bounce back, but we're only doing one day at a time and today doesn't look so good. But also it does. It looks beautiful because we are a family and we have had a billion wonderful memories together. We're not at odds and I know we have many more happy times ahead of us.

It's hard to know what is too much to tell a small child about illness and death. BB is a sensitive little guy and I think he's starting to get it, but that doesn't make it easier. He also said to me earlier, "I want you to be with me forever and not go to heaven." He has been praying for my dad and says, "Dear God, please let Papa Bruce grow up." He started talking about Papa Bruce a lot when I was lying down with him and as he began to settle I began to cry.

I cried out some beautiful memories - swimming with my dad when I was small, skiing with him as I grew up, and the time before Randy and I were engaged that we went intending for Randy to ask for my hand. It didn't quite happen that way but my hand he has and my dad approves big time. For awhile we weren't sure if my parents would ever be grandparents to our children, and they are. BB loves grandpas and it just breaks my heart that he might not have any in the near future. Randy's dad died of colon cancer years ago. BB doesn't remember him and LB never met him, but PawPaw and BB were kindred spirits. I attached a picture of BB reading a map because my dad's a map guy. They too are kindred spirits.

I'm not a total stranger to grief but this is really something. It is an indescribable pain. It feels sort of like being scheduled for an amputation and you don't know how you are going to be happy without your missing limb. You won't be the same and you'll have to learn how to do a lot of things differently. With cancer, on the one hand you have some time to wrap up loose ends (we now have none) and to tell one another how much you love each other. On the other hand, you watch that person slowly change and become different from the person you've known forever. It's a slowly dawning kind of grief that eventually feels unbearable. It's especially hard with all the back and forth that comes with a cancer diagnosis.

As I said, it's not over! My dad is still fighting. He has a blood infection and is very weak, but peaceful. I think the big question right now is do we continue the chemotherapy if he doesn't start to improve. It's all a little vague today. Tomorrow may hold some new information, or it may not. Then we wait another day.

Lamentations 3:22-23 (New Living Translation)

The faithful love of the Lord never ends!
His mercies never cease.
Great is his faithfulness;
his mercies begin afresh each morning.

In the meantime, we just breathe in and out and love each other. You do the same.

What Not to Wear

I like this show. I think I actually liked Ambush Makeover better, but there is now AM anymore.

I love to see people reach their potential, especially the underdog. The poor folks on WNTW look so sad at first and by the end - wahoo! Sure it's fashion potential and perhaps fashion does not have eternal value, but self-esteem is a good thing.

I'm a sucker for a good makeover story, and What Not to Wear is quality, mindless television, which I can appreciate.

Tough Mommy day.

I did not feel like being a mommy today. The morning went well enough, but when we got home from the gym later than anticipated the boys were really hungry and I had a hard time getting their lunches prepared. Then we had issues involving "sassy sauce" and I sent them to bed. BB didn't fall asleep and came on out to play, and then LB soon woke up. I didn't sit down to eat lunch, instead eating cheese, turkey pepperoni, and corn chips while I swept up said tortilla chips a billion and one times as the boys continually crushed them up. I didn't have more than 10 minutes to sit down by myself and I felt like I really needed it.

Enter neighbors. I called up my lovely knitting neighbors in high hopes that they would be doing exactly what they were doing - knitting while their children played. I head on over with my shawl I'm knitting, one boy in jammies, and one in rain boots (it wasn't raining). They had a blast playing while I got to knit and get all of my daily words in with friends. What a blessing!

I wouldn't trade my life for anything ever. But I admit there are some days I do, for a fleeting moment, long for the easy days of being a free-wheeling childless woman who could sit down whenever she wanted. A lot of times gals like me who have experienced infertility feel like we should never take our little blessings for granted and never desire a break more than anything. But most of us do. And that's OK.

Right? ;o)