tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71954429554240192042024-03-05T09:42:24.099-05:00Blessed with Full handsKatiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11571439982499787798noreply@blogger.comBlogger865125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7195442955424019204.post-40161538091582278392020-06-08T11:47:00.002-04:002020-06-08T11:53:32.841-04:00We Belong to Each Other<span id="docs-internal-guid-84b728d3-7fff-89fb-25a4-2253c961e843"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRtJ2scdonzOJxss2yD6LcGMSXxXnfZtq0yFtm6qx0TPelAIvcyfCEshMD3D7MTF7BcCmqh39mAzT18XOBeGQayGDv6AlFSTQb-MqC3pLi5hyphenhyphenxbiss4D15e1qSTXqi1OVFd999w76pQE4/s3088/IMG_2477.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2316" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRtJ2scdonzOJxss2yD6LcGMSXxXnfZtq0yFtm6qx0TPelAIvcyfCEshMD3D7MTF7BcCmqh39mAzT18XOBeGQayGDv6AlFSTQb-MqC3pLi5hyphenhyphenxbiss4D15e1qSTXqi1OVFd999w76pQE4/w480-h640/IMG_2477.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">22 years ago, right around this time of year, I was given this cross as a gift. It was a going-away present. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Just 10 months before, I embarked on a journey. I was young, just out of college, and I wanted to do something that would make a difference. So, I applied to volunteer for a year for Covenant House, a homeless shelter for teens. Never living in a city, never really exposed to people who were much different than me, I knew there was a great big, hurting world out there. Honestly, I did not know what I could do or even if I could make a difference, but I packed a few belongings in a suitcase and headed to Houston, TX. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was drawn to and took an open position in the Boy’s Rights of Passage program. I would work with 18 to 21 year old young men who were living in a transitional living home. I would help them graduate with their GED, maybe get into technical school or college, get a job, and learn the skills necessary to live independently. These boys came from broken homes, aged out of foster care, or had gotten into so much trouble that their mom kicked them out so that the rest of the family would not lose the apartment they lived in. Most came from the poorest neighborhoods of Houston. The boys in the program were of varied races, but the majority were black men.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In that year, I got a glimpse into their world. I saw their struggles, the racism they experienced, and the poverty that made it all so hard to change. Many turned to gangs and drugs as an escape. Most were only a few years younger than me, but our life experiences, our life opportunities were startling and achingly different.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Yet, when you dug below the layers of hurt, the “tough guy” exterior that these young men wore day in and day out that sometimes came across as hatred, there was something that always shined through . . . their humanity. Our connected humanity.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">You see, when you spend so much time working and caring for someone that is so unlike you, you begin to more deeply understand that truth that Mother Teresa stated, “We belong to each other.” </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It is so easy to reduce people to labels. It is easy and maybe it eases our minds a bit when we see crimes against others such as George Floyd. We use the terms criminal or drug addict to describe him and it makes it easier for us to dismiss the crime against him. Or maybe we label the cop as a racist, and angry and dismiss his behavior as an act of violence that a select few would do. All of this may be true. But it doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change our hearts. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In that year, with those young men, I learned that labels aren’t everything, or anything really. These young men were labeled by the world: trouble makers, gang bangers, drug users, dropouts. I even had a family friend tell me that I wasted the year, working with the “bottom of the barrel, scum-sucking low lifes.” (Yes, he really did say that and used those exact words) But in that year, those young men showed me that they were children of God. Beautiful souls that I needed in my life. It is so easy to say we are all made in the image and likeness of God, yet it is another to truly know it from experience. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Over the last few weeks, I have thought and prayed a lot for those young men, now, God willing, in their early 40’s. I have wondered where they are, what they are doing. Do they have families? Are they in jail? I pulled out my book from that year and searched for their full names. I even googled a few, most to no avail. Except for one, the young man who gave me this cross as a going-away present. He was my giant “bodyguard” when I took the residents to places in the cities; if he was with I didn’t fear wherever we were because I knew he was watching out for me. He ended up marrying his girlfriend (whom he had already had two kids with when I knew him). He passed away in May. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEK8xf7R7miGmtn13Cbp0GVyHM24T3oLnMny-nClkmqp0ENKEE7HUMkloGcQ7LoraFG7UXUgQBZROW7cAxYu_WwlORf463khW9dGkptWb_FQ0woIDJXLkd8LAZ12SM9noNxE-QCS0EDMY/s4032/IMG_2505+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEK8xf7R7miGmtn13Cbp0GVyHM24T3oLnMny-nClkmqp0ENKEE7HUMkloGcQ7LoraFG7UXUgQBZROW7cAxYu_WwlORf463khW9dGkptWb_FQ0woIDJXLkd8LAZ12SM9noNxE-QCS0EDMY/w480-h640/IMG_2505+%25281%2529.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><p></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">After finding out, I pulled this cross out again. I have been wearing it as a reminder of those young men. As a reminder that we belong to ea</span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">ch other. That their treatment, their pain is just as much mine even if I do not always see it or recognize it.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">At this moment, I do not know what God may be calling you to do about racism (or what He is calling me to do right now either). But, I do know that connection is the only way to truly transform yourself and the community around you. I do not know if I made a difference in the lives of those young men that year. But, I know that they made a difference in mine and their stories, their humanity stays with me every day. Find ways to connect with those who are so different from you that it makes you a little uncomfortable. And God will meet you there and show you are are not really that different after all. That you are connected and need each other.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRmTs5Z1CYi5UrZTKO6yiaNL8K0Zl-tndNuihFeIfQSUNxwriLeqadhBJebdrm2aDuad8RuSoZT1-KyQ8USUnokw3gfHtT8av-BbtXDwNMtV0tZBhhB9kEM2Ir0l6bMk-AKpILvs8Aqzc/s1080/webelongtoeachother.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRmTs5Z1CYi5UrZTKO6yiaNL8K0Zl-tndNuihFeIfQSUNxwriLeqadhBJebdrm2aDuad8RuSoZT1-KyQ8USUnokw3gfHtT8av-BbtXDwNMtV0tZBhhB9kEM2Ir0l6bMk-AKpILvs8Aqzc/w640-h640/webelongtoeachother.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div></span>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11571439982499787798noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7195442955424019204.post-37200082906414902952020-06-01T12:30:00.000-04:002020-06-01T12:30:35.898-04:00Holy Spirit, Come and Renew the Face of the Earth<p style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; margin: 0px 0px 6px;"><font face="georgia" size="4"><br /></font></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; margin: 0px 0px 6px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbTjGnTreztNdhXhS7PGzBOPrC8lQnfLIo-UzjAhFbxm_Uo9Uy8N8Vr3OKMQNhdjR9jIoIcpay97o9B-e3UuJPKx8OAuz8hREWdvy3jicCbzNnKNiYJGIqR7E6qT36HaQKMfyEHlqW7uc/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbTjGnTreztNdhXhS7PGzBOPrC8lQnfLIo-UzjAhFbxm_Uo9Uy8N8Vr3OKMQNhdjR9jIoIcpay97o9B-e3UuJPKx8OAuz8hREWdvy3jicCbzNnKNiYJGIqR7E6qT36HaQKMfyEHlqW7uc/w640-h640/hope.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><font face="georgia" size="4"><br /></font><p></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; margin: 0px 0px 6px;"><font face="georgia" size="4"><br /></font></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; margin: 0px 0px 6px;"><font face="georgia" size="4">We had no intention of taking our little kids into church today. Our diocese is not holding masses yet, just communion services and with Thomas still recovering from major surgery, we planned on taking turns going in with our older children and leaving the littles in the car. But, as we dressed for church, they did too. Dresses. Dress shirts. They were excited. And I did not want to quell that excitement, so we grabbed their masks and brought them all into the church. A<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">nd, as we all stood in front of the priest and received blessings and Jesus, I was just so happy.</span></font></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; margin: 0px 0px 6px;"><font face="georgia" size="4"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><br /></span></font></p><div class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; display: inline;"><font face="georgia" size="4"><p style="margin: 0px 0px 6px;">Today is Pentecost. Lord, send forth your spirit and renew the face of this earth.</p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 6px;"><br /></p><p style="margin: 6px 0px;">There is so much hurt going on in our country right now. As we drove to mass, I prayed for the Holy Spirit to renew the face of this earth. End racism. End the violence. End the divisions in our church. Bring unity, Lord. The fact that racism still exists sickens me. The violence of riots saddens me. The division sewed how masses are happening or not happening, baffles me. And the urge to add my voice to the many voices sharing their own feelings about it all is strong.</p><p style="margin: 6px 0px;"><br /></p><p style="margin: 6px 0px;">But, this morning, in the quiet of the church, standing with my family, in front of the priest, God’s voice was stronger than the others. “Eyes on Me, Katie.” He is calling me to keep my eyes on Him. When there is a call by others to add my voice to theirs, Jesus is saying “Keep your eyes on Me.”</p><p style="margin: 6px 0px;"><br /></p><p style="margin: 6px 0px;">And that is why I have decided to stop the scroll, stop adding to the noise. I honestly believe that many are called to share their thoughts, opinions, etc to help bring about change through social media. But, I also clearly recognize that that is not where He is calling me.</p><p style="margin: 6px 0px;"><br /></p><p style="margin: 6px 0px;">Eyes on Him.</p><p style="margin: 6px 0px;"><br /></p><p style="margin: 6px 0px;">Because, keeping my eyes on Him will usher in the Holy Spirit more into my own life, and the lives of those around me. Peter, when he kept his eyes on the Lord, was able to walk on water. If I keep my eyes on Him, I can bring forth the Holy Spirit a little bit more in my corner of the world. And I know I cannot renew the face of the world, but the Holy Spirit can.</p></font></div>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11571439982499787798noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7195442955424019204.post-47787583553917746972020-06-01T12:28:00.001-04:002020-06-01T12:28:14.562-04:00Lillies<span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21;"><font face="georgia" size="4">After the rain finally stopped, I headed outside and picked these. They grow in random areas in our flower beds and aren’t too attractive, if I am honest. But, I just cannot consider the thought of ripping them out. I see them. I smell them, and I think of my grandmother. They used to grow on the side of my grandparents’ house. And every time I see these blooms, I am reminded of her. She’s been gone as long as I have been married and I still miss her. So, the Lilly of the Valley will remain in my flower beds, and make me smile, remembering that amazing lady.</font></span><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21;"><font face="georgia" size="4"><br /></font></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTnw2gE_SEgqfKtqFpfX1sBt1KHvr-AI1wkkoibwnGtWS2lXuiPeN8Ygcnq1k6mY6KHLKO2Ce3Ytd_5EQXQruOJgrkgA5ku1Ui3Bkikyi2PdPK8wtkdOw9iZaQ4fBOTfXbeCLS2CNTpH8/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTnw2gE_SEgqfKtqFpfX1sBt1KHvr-AI1wkkoibwnGtWS2lXuiPeN8Ygcnq1k6mY6KHLKO2Ce3Ytd_5EQXQruOJgrkgA5ku1Ui3Bkikyi2PdPK8wtkdOw9iZaQ4fBOTfXbeCLS2CNTpH8/w640-h640/lillies.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><font face="georgia" size="4"><br /></font></span></div>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11571439982499787798noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7195442955424019204.post-2409280726316031952020-06-01T12:25:00.002-04:002020-06-01T12:25:26.358-04:00Captivated<p style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin: 0px 0px 6px;"><font face="georgia" size="4">This morning, after prayer with all of the kids, I laid my head on the kitchen table. Pete looked at me and said, “What would you like to do today?”</font></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin: 0px 0px 6px;"><font face="georgia" size="4"><br /></font></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin: 6px 0px;"><font face="georgia" size="4">“I guess, go for a run,” I responded, with not too much enthusiasm. That half-hearted statement opened the door just enough for my husband to give me the kick I needed. And, he, very gently, forced me out the door.</font></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin: 6px 0px;"><font face="georgia" size="4"><br /></font></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin: 6px 0px;"><font face="georgia" size="4">A week ago I was sitting in the surgical waiting area, trying to keep myself busy while I counted down the moments until the next update, overwhelmed with anxiety. And, today, I headed out on the trails to run. A week later, I am still feeling the stress of the hospital stay and the effects of the worry that clouded my mind. Thankfully, my husband knows me well. He knows that a run restores me. Runs clear my mind, make my body feel alive. And when that happens, I am able to hear God better.</font></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin: 6px 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsP_qyXnBMrmCG5AHCA1C76nHyKXedMe7P4rqALek8pcrp3P9rPgv5tacr9DlL-W2F4c5MR23g5nvn2p99EaQkh2xiSiKeaSjit1zfdmpQ6_36LFB4FTV9SKkeWsrFP8LpIVmqYyUwHXQ/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><font face="georgia" size="4"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsP_qyXnBMrmCG5AHCA1C76nHyKXedMe7P4rqALek8pcrp3P9rPgv5tacr9DlL-W2F4c5MR23g5nvn2p99EaQkh2xiSiKeaSjit1zfdmpQ6_36LFB4FTV9SKkeWsrFP8LpIVmqYyUwHXQ/w480-h640/captivated1.jpg" width="480" /></font></a></div><font face="georgia" size="4"><br /><br /><br /></font><p></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin: 6px 0px;"><font face="georgia" size="4">Halfway through the run, my body began to release the stress and I started to look around me. It was so GREEN. Ferns were unfurling their fronds, opening up to the hope of the sun. Buttercups were showing off their beauty amidst streams of water. Geese were tending to their goslings. And Christ began to whisper to me words spoken in the Gospel.</font></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin: 6px 0px;"><font face="georgia" size="4"><br /></font></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin: 6px 0px;"><font face="georgia" size="4"><br /></font></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin: 6px 0px;"><font face="georgia" size="4"><br /></font></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin: 6px 0px; text-align: left;"><i><font face="georgia" size="4">“ I tell you, do not worry . . . If even the smallest things are beyond your control, why are you anxious about the rest? Notice how the flowers grow. They do not toil or spin. But I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of them. . . . <span style="text-align: center;">Do not be afraid any longer, little flock, your Father is pleased to give you the kingdom.”</span></font></i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin: 6px 0px; text-align: center;"><font face="georgia" size="4"><i>Luke 12:22-32</i></font></p></blockquote></blockquote><div><font face="georgia" size="4"> </font></div><p style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin: 6px 0px;"><font face="georgia" size="4">What are you worrying about today? Are you worried about things opening back up and a dear friend or family member that could get sick? Are you nervous about how the closing of businesses will affect you financially? Maybe these things have already happened and your worry feels so unbearably real because life has been hard over the last few weeks. God is calling to you in the moment. Do Not Worry.</font></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin: 6px 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4RPljNdGutf68fhFGi7FwkAx7QcMMfcOAyJ0ORz6LswW0zv7-chvkbbRBlTvVO7L1FFNyYMnJoTbIZ_VEdC7abgorxN5GNDRGybN_q_n_t7i3KhQKVqHxePn2ZqpGoJTPCCwXT-w4juQ/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><font face="georgia" size="4"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4RPljNdGutf68fhFGi7FwkAx7QcMMfcOAyJ0ORz6LswW0zv7-chvkbbRBlTvVO7L1FFNyYMnJoTbIZ_VEdC7abgorxN5GNDRGybN_q_n_t7i3KhQKVqHxePn2ZqpGoJTPCCwXT-w4juQ/w480-h640/captivated2.jpg" width="480" /></font></a></div><font face="georgia" size="4"><br /></font><p></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin: 6px 0px;"><font face="georgia" size="4">As I ran and witnessed life happening all around, God spoke Hope into me. There are so many things in this life that can cause us to lose hope, that can take our attention away from the one who gives hope, but as I ran, and my eyes were open to the spring of life around me, he reminded me that even as the world seems to spin out of control, He still is the master of life around me. He causes the sun to rise and fall. He is bringing spring and He wants you to know that. He wants to capture your attention and fill you with His peace.</font></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin: 6px 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmkP3MLZC7rFp4Y_MLv5wKYhzNf-LQ6OMWWui1t4Fv1fugOeCyBMYJQmGx7Jhqp3b87nYPFXWNotLLiT_1CEq7TmzrmG2MAQ034e7OX2xGXzFHo-SxIAV070pHJ9sJCO0Olf9GqJjKMTo/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><font face="georgia" size="4"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmkP3MLZC7rFp4Y_MLv5wKYhzNf-LQ6OMWWui1t4Fv1fugOeCyBMYJQmGx7Jhqp3b87nYPFXWNotLLiT_1CEq7TmzrmG2MAQ034e7OX2xGXzFHo-SxIAV070pHJ9sJCO0Olf9GqJjKMTo/w640-h640/captivated3.jpg" width="640" /></font></a></div><font face="georgia" size="4"><br /></font><p></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; display: inline; margin: 6px 0px 0px;"><font face="georgia" size="4">Allow Him to capture your attention today. There is so much right now that seeks to capture us. Social media feeds that are filled with polarized viewpoints, that lead to stress and uncertainty. News reports that can be just as confusing. Allow His words to you to fill your heart. I am not sure how you best find Him, hear Him. But, seek Him today. If you are best captivated by Him in the tabernacle, find an open church and sit in His presence (and there are many open locally). If you best hear His voice outside, go! Today is a rare, gorgeous day here in Wisconsin. He is waiting for you. He desires to fill you with His unshakeable peace. Allow him to captivate you today.</font></p>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11571439982499787798noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7195442955424019204.post-68717424157755253242020-05-12T14:29:00.002-04:002020-05-13T10:42:11.067-04:00Thank You!! <span id="docs-internal-guid-d9e1143b-7fff-ee95-a322-613494daaef8"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiA7SeiKkBDfWxIGrw9YD5CT_6xj7DOp6xdq-f-xwE0PV0fJHgOlLCGSloGTSYnYRxd8RF8r7fDK3lcepAEkh_LbLEZ4peLZayAHVJdeVZYyj4xxAQ1Obw9Ud0rCyMvKry0APK90TyN4Y/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiA7SeiKkBDfWxIGrw9YD5CT_6xj7DOp6xdq-f-xwE0PV0fJHgOlLCGSloGTSYnYRxd8RF8r7fDK3lcepAEkh_LbLEZ4peLZayAHVJdeVZYyj4xxAQ1Obw9Ud0rCyMvKry0APK90TyN4Y/w400-h400/Thank+YOU%2521.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><font face="georgia" size="4"><br /></font></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><font face="georgia" size="4"><br /></font></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><font face="georgia" size="4">It is Tuesday morning and we are home! Thomas is happily playing with his sisters in the living room while I sit at the computer to type this. I wanted to take a few minutes to write out our experience and to thank everyone who lifted prayers for us or were involved in some way in this whole process.</font></span></p><font face="georgia" size="4"><br /></font><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><font face="georgia" size="4">Thomas and I headed down to Milwaukee Thursday evening to check into the Ronald McDonald house. Due to the hospital restrictions, all pre-op procedures had been moved to the morning of the surgery. Surgery was scheduled to start at 7:30 AM, so we needed to check in to pre-op by 6 AM. However, at 5 AM I received a call that our morning schedule had changed. Thomas’ COVID test did not work the day before (they did not get enough of a sample to get a result) and therefore his COVID test needed to be re-done Friday morning, as he would not be allowed on the surgical floor until they had his test results. So, after running around to different parts of the hospital and outpatient buildings Friday morning, we were able to head up to pre-op by 8:30 AM. </font></span></p><font face="georgia" size="4"><br /></font><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><font face="georgia" size="4">Once up in pre-op, things went very quickly and by 9:30, Thomas was taken back to the OR and I was escorted to the Parent Surgical Waiting area. I had had a slight headache all morning. I attributed this to stress, dehydration, and lack of sleep (poor Thomas did not sleep well the night before and woke up several times in the middle of the night, saying he was scared). However, once in the Surgical Waiting Area, I began to feel sick. I started to text Pete that I wasn’t feeling well, but I kind of brushed it off that I probably just needed to eat and would get food once the surgical nurse and the doctor came to see me. I will not bore you all with the details, but I now know that I was having a panic attack. I had never had one before and I was convinced I was sick and I was terrified that someone would realize it and kick me out of the hospital. It took about an hour, and an emptying of my stomach (yep, thank GOD no one came into the bathroom during that time), for my breathing to regulate and for me to feel normal again. During that time, Pete made the decision to leave our other kids at home and hop in the car to come down to give me a break, if needed. </font></span></p><font face="georgia" size="4"><br /></font><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><font face="georgia" size="4">While waiting in the surgical waiting area, one of the surgical nurses would come in every hour to update me on how the surgery was going. The surgery would take 4-6 hours. At the second update, the nurse stated that by the next update Thomas would be on bypass and the repair would begin. What was shocking, though, was that by the third update, the nurse came out to stay that Thomas was already on, and off of bypass! He only needed to be on bypass for 18 min and they were able to allow his heart to beat the whole time he was on bypass! The nurse said that the team was nearing the end of the surgery and the surgeon would be out to talk to me in about an hour. But, I was in for another surprise . . . about 15 min after the nurse had come out, Dr. Haraska walked through the door and sat near me. I smiled (although he couldn’t see it due to my mask!), and said to him, “I’m a little surprised to see you so soon!” He then went on to share that he was done. The surgery went well and the repair seemed to be successful! He shared details about Thomas' heart anatomy and function that could only be truly known through open-heart surgery. Thomas was transferred from the OR to the CICU around 1:30 PM and I was taken back into the hallway to see him during the transfer. I was so happy to see him! The anesthesiologist filled me in on how he was doing and the next few steps (They were able to successfully extubate him in the OR, which was HUGE!). And, around 2:45 PM, I was able to go into the CICU room and be with Thomas! </font></span></p><font face="georgia" size="4"><br /></font><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><font face="georgia" size="4">By that time Pete was at the Ronald McDonald House, waiting for me to say I was ready to leave the hospital. I spent some time with Thomas and then Pete and I spent the next few hours switching off in the CICU. Thomas spent that first day and night under sedation and it wasn’t until the next morning that he was more awake and talkative. Pete went back home Saturday afternoon. Thomas was doing incredibly well and the whole CICU team was really pleased with how great everything was going. Thomas spent most of the day Saturday getting many tubes out, he even got out of bed to sit in a chair for a little while! By Sunday morning, he was cleared to get his chest tubes out and to move out of the CICU to the acute care floor! During rounds that morning, I asked, “I know you cannot say for sure, but how much longer do you anticipate that Thomas will need to stay in the hospital?” The cardiologist basically said that he was flying through his recovery in a rockstar fashion and that Monday morning they would order an echocardiogram and as long as the echo looked good, Thomas would be able to go home Monday! </font></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYOTrHVUOFnck6_TwL0YPTwLI53fIpXrNX3MZ73JAvpmvSI4RbBthU0WcInIoD56eFUmm5iFljV2gRIhgFXNFcFJHasAK_GQZPPHxaRI3KNejcMIcIFifdgzg_eZtqGwPG-kyzXYb3SZU/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYOTrHVUOFnck6_TwL0YPTwLI53fIpXrNX3MZ73JAvpmvSI4RbBthU0WcInIoD56eFUmm5iFljV2gRIhgFXNFcFJHasAK_GQZPPHxaRI3KNejcMIcIFifdgzg_eZtqGwPG-kyzXYb3SZU/w300-h400/IMG_1993+%25281%2529.JPG" title="Thomas with his beloved popsicle. His first time eating in the CICU." width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thomas eating his beloved popsicle in the CICU!<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><font face="georgia" size="4"><br /></font><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><font face="georgia" size="4">On the Acute Care floor, Thomas and I spent time playing games, building Legos, and having a movie night. It was a pretty special Mother’s Day. Days before, I could not imagine my little boy being able to do so much so soon after surgery. Monday morning came and we headed down to the Heart Center for his echo. By late morning, I began getting texts stating that he had a scheduled appointment with his local cardiologist the following week. Since I hadn’t made these appointments, I figured that that was a sign that the team had met and they would be allowing Thomas to go home later in the day. So, we had visitors throughout the morning at that point. PT came by to show Thomas how to navigate stairs and to tell me what we can allow him to do at home and what to avoid. OT came and gave us a list of exercises to do at home. A PA came by and removed and replaced bandages. And, finally, the cardiologist stopped by. He filled us in about the team meeting in the morning, Thomas' echo results, and then said the words we were both waiting to hear, “You can go home today!” Thomas began crying at that point and said, “I am just so happy!” The cardiologist said that Thomas had amazed the team and that his numbers and stats for a child just 3 days post-surgery were incredible. We were told by the team, in the beginning, to prepare for 5-10 days in the hospital, so to only spend 4 days in the hospital was a happy surprise to everyone.</font></span></p><font face="georgia" size="4"><br /></font><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><font face="georgia" size="4">Life will be pretty slow for the next several weeks. Although Thomas’ recovery has amazed everyone, he still did have major surgery and needs to be slow and intentional in his recovery. However, I woke up this morning and immediately walked into his bedroom to see him. The whole family was up and Thomas was sitting on his floor with his sisters and a couple of his brothers, happily playing. I immediately asked him a million questions, making sure he was ok and then I sat down on his bed, just to watch him a little. As I sat there, I began to cry. I honestly do not use this word lightly, but I truly believe that his surgery and recovery have been miraculous. And I attribute that to all of the prayers that so many lifted up for Thomas.</font></span></p><font face="georgia" size="4"><br /></font><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><font face="georgia" size="4">Why am I sharing all of this with you all willing to read it? Because I want to thank you all. I want you all to know that you have sustained our family and we are grateful for every prayer, for every meal, that everyone has offered for Thomas and our family. So, please bear with me as I take a moment to thank everyone.</font></span></p><font face="georgia" size="4"><br /></font><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><font face="georgia" size="4">First, to all of you who have prayed. THANK YOU! Thank you for lifting up prayers, especially when we could not. I was useless while Thomas was in surgery! I could not even think straight during that time, and you all lifted up my little man and carried him in prayer when I could not. So, thank you! For all of those who joined in our Novena, for the teens on the prayer call who prayed for Thomas, and for those who lit candles, offered up holy hours, and remembered Thomas in your prayers, we are forever grateful!</font></span></p><font face="georgia" size="4"><br /></font><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><font face="georgia" size="4">To all of those who have made meals and who will bring us meals (or gift cards) . . . THANK YOU. This mom thanks you for providing a basic need for our family, when my attentions need to be elsewhere. </font></span></p><font face="georgia" size="4"><br /></font><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><font face="georgia" size="4">To our neighbors . . .and you know who you all are :-) . . .. THANK YOU for keeping an eye out for our kids when Pete had to come down to Milwaukee to be with Thomas and I. Thank you for the cinnamon rolls for the kids! Thank you to the neighbors who made signs and participated in the jump around! Thomas was brought to tears when he saw the video! Thank you to the neighbors who made special meals and those who prayed and sent texts! We are forever grateful to you all and could not imagine having better neighbors!</font></span></p><font face="georgia" size="4"><br /></font><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><font face="georgia" size="4">To the staff, donors, and volunteers at Ronald McDonald House of Eastern Wisconsin. And, to the local restaurants that donated delicious meals. You made this time so much easier. You made Mother's Day Special and gave us a haven to go to in the midst of the stress of all of this. Thank you for serving families!</font></span></p><font face="georgia" size="4"><br /></font><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><font face="georgia" size="4">And finally, to the doctors, nurses, and staff at Children’s Hospital of Wisconsin - Milwaukee. Each and every staff member we encountered was caring, kind, and helpful. I would recommend it to anyone. Thank you to Dr. Hraska (the surgeon), Dr. Stuth and Dr. Kale (the head anesthesiologist and his assistant), and the surgical team . … you took such good care of our boy and were amazing every step of the way! To the CICU team, especially Thomas’ nurses: Kaitlyn, Amy, Kirsten, and Allison. You all were AWESOME! To Leslie, the cardiac Child Life Specialist, you made Thomas’ stay at the hospital so special. The acute care team and nurses (Zouha, Shain, and Sarah) and Dr. Ginde (who gave us the final report and “go home orders”), THANK you! Even though Thomas was with you just a short time, you were so attentive to us! And, to my adoptive friend Diane (a PT at the hospital), your visit with me in the Surgical waiting area meant so much to me. Thank you for taking the time out of your schedule to visit me and help calm this mom’s anxious heart!</font></span></p><font face="georgia" size="4"><br /></font><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><font face="georgia" size="4">Know that we are remembering you all and your kindness to Thomas and our family in our daily prayers! </font></span></p><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11571439982499787798noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7195442955424019204.post-81687213471898464712019-04-29T11:59:00.002-04:002019-04-29T15:05:23.264-04:00Dancing: What He Really Meant<div class="MsoNormal">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtVWdpoS4-ZNVK6AXLCitMtzBqtZre8i5AHI9dJoZ4B0T0rfreJdiDZOQocjP3jbUAJoOU9pIPNInQoKaUM1oPfMf1pyuTkU3H__yE1fMEs-E0nEalZEobVZ93a2Jm-7vl-OyI8l3qZRw/s1600/flowers.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtVWdpoS4-ZNVK6AXLCitMtzBqtZre8i5AHI9dJoZ4B0T0rfreJdiDZOQocjP3jbUAJoOU9pIPNInQoKaUM1oPfMf1pyuTkU3H__yE1fMEs-E0nEalZEobVZ93a2Jm-7vl-OyI8l3qZRw/s640/flowers.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I’ve been really struggling lately. The lingering winter that just won’t seem to
break into blooms and sun filled days, the death of a good friend, and the
weight of decisions looming have made me feel more anxious and restless. My kids were acting up this morning in the
flurry of breakfast and school drop off.
But even before that, the voice in my head kept ringing. “I just want to go back.” Yes, we have loved it here in Wisconsin, but
there are moments, days, even weeks, where I just long to be back in our old
community. We were back in Maryland at
the beginning of the month for our friend’s funeral and in those short few days
there, I remembered. Everything felt comfortable. Each stop, each encounter was beautiful. Not only that, but it was spring there!
Flowers were in bloom, the sun was warm and shining. My memory is making it more idyllic than it
really was . . . it was a hard trip too with a kid getting sick, too little
sleep, break downs of the young kid kind and saying good bye at the grave site
of a dear friend. But, this morning, all
I could remember were the good moments. These feelings gave me a little more sympathy
for the apostles who always seemed to go back to fishing when things seemed to
get hard. When they were scared and
anxious, they went back to the comfortable, to what they knew before Christ had
changed their lives. And, especially this morning, I wanted to go back. I wanted to go back to what I knew before God called us to Wisconsin.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">So, after I dropped off two of my kids at school, I
put on my favorite praise and worship playlist.
I was determined to remind myself of His goodness and His plan. I listened to <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EpqSbKYxd9Y" target="_blank">King of My Heart</a>. I sang along as the song proclaimed the truth
to my heart. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And let the King of my
heart</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Be the wind inside my sails</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">
<span style="color: #222222; line-height: 107%;"></span></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #222222; line-height: 107%;"><span style="background-color: white;">The anchor in the waves</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #222222; line-height: 107%;">
<span style="background: white;"></span></span></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #222222; line-height: 107%;"><span style="background: white;">Oh oh, He is my song</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #222222; line-height: 107%;"><span style="background: white;">
</span></span></span>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #222222; line-height: 107%;"><span style="background-color: white;">Let the King of my heart</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #222222; line-height: 107%;">
<span style="background: white;"><div style="text-align: center;">
Be the fire inside my veins</div>
</span><div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white;">The echo of my days</span></div>
<span style="background: white;"><div style="text-align: center;">
Oh oh, He is my song</div>
<o:p></o:p></span></span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">'Cause You are good</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">You are good, oh oh</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">
<span style="color: #222222; line-height: 107%;"></span></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #222222; line-height: 107%;"><span style="background-color: white;">You are good</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #222222; line-height: 107%;">
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">My list was on shuffle,
so I was unsure what would come next. But, clearly He knew what I needed to
hear in that moment. It was <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fFfw6OSbUwE" target="_blank">We Dance</a> by
Bethel Music.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">You steady me</span></div>
<span style="color: #222222;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Slow and sweet, we sway</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"></span></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Take the lead and I will follow</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">
</span></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Finally ready now</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">
</span></span>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">To close my eyes and just believe</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
That You won't lead me where You don't go</div>
<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">When my faith gets tired</span></div>
<span style="color: #222222;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And my hope seems lost</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"></span></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">You spin me round and round</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">
</span></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And remind me of that song</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">
</span></span>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The one You wrote for m</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
And we dance</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And we dance</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/fFfw6OSbUwE" width="560"></iframe>
<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And as the song began to play, I felt the whisper
of the word “surrender.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>Surrender <o:p></o:p></i></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal;">
<b><i><br /></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>Dance <o:p></o:p></i></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>Let me lead</i></b><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">When I reread that post I finally published a
little over a month ago, I envisioned the dance he was calling me to as a dance
by myself. This dance of freedom where I
danced where I wanted to . . .<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">But, today, He reminded me that the <a href="http://www.blessedwithfullhands.com/2019/03/dance-into-your-inheritance.html" target="_blank">Dance into My Inheritance</a> is NOT led by me. It is
not a dance by myself moving freely.
But, a dance with Him. He
leads. And the freedom and the beauty of
the dance come from not having to worry how to move across the dance floor or
where to put my feet next, but relying on His strength to guide me across the
dance floor. It is locking eyes with Him and hearing Him ask,
<b><i>“Do you trust Me?”</i></b> as the music begins. He leads first and I just need to fix
my gaze on Him and somehow the dance is more freeing and beautiful than if I choreographed
the steps myself. I don’t need to worry about where we are on the dance floor,
who is watching, or what the next steps may be.
I just fix my eyes on Him, allow Him to lead, and enjoy the beauty of
the dance that He is taking me on. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b><i><o:p></o:p></i></b></span></span><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>Lock eyes with His loving gaze and dance.</i></b><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Because gazing upon Him is how we gain peace amidst
this world. It is the only way to truly begin to evangelize and be a witness to
Him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="background: white; line-height: normal;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i>And how does one grow in total confidence in
God: how can we maintain and nourish it in ourselves? Certainly not only by intellectual
speculation and theological considerations.
They will never withstand the moments of trail. <b>But by a contemplative gaze on Jesus.</b></i></span></span><span style="background-color: transparent;"> </span><i style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Fr Jacques
Philippe, Searching for and Maintaining Peace</span></i></blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="background: white; line-height: normal;">
<i><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Our witness, however, would hopelessly be
inad</span></span><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">equate if we ourselves had not <b>first contemplated his face</b>. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">Pope St John
Paul II, Novo Millennio </span></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> Ineunte</span></span></i></blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span jsname="YS01Ge"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">
</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> When I
first read the above quotes, I desired to spend more time in adoration, more
time as Mary did, sitting at His feet because I know EVERYTHING I do depends on
locking eyes on Him. But, today was a
great, gentle reminder, that it is locking eyes on Him through the dance. Not sitting at His feet, even though that is
essential, but moving and allowing Him to guide every step of the dance while
not looking at where we are going, but trusting His steps and focusing on Him. It
is a trust and surrender that He is leading and I just need to lock my gaze on
Him and enjoy the dance that He is taking me on. Not to fight it. Not to figure out each step. But to lock eyes
with the Creator of the universe and enjoy this beautiful dance we are on. Because when I allow Him to lead, no matter where the dance may take us, it is a beautiful one.</span></span></div>
Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11571439982499787798noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7195442955424019204.post-47012420095567437342019-03-04T10:34:00.000-05:002019-03-04T10:46:32.046-05:00Dance into Your Inheritance<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
As soon as
breakfast was over, she ran up to her room to get dressed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had laid out her pink leotard, pink
tights, and ballet shoes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She even found
her “tutu pink” undies so that she matched perfectly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She beamed with excitement; a day she had
waited and hoped for for a while, she would be starting ballet for the first
time.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTby6JzR7KtMS8VBo6bSck4YKrBItV9w2j9K1JaC2dYXgX4jETouTsxT2swaGzLLbq6uSbRFozyUSPcvEGor_uIkXo6OonRFq8iyhYxgQp7gZQ75NgWZkAJn7BHC2P1cLog-vFdQgf8Vs/s1600/dance1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1394" data-original-width="1600" height="556" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTby6JzR7KtMS8VBo6bSck4YKrBItV9w2j9K1JaC2dYXgX4jETouTsxT2swaGzLLbq6uSbRFozyUSPcvEGor_uIkXo6OonRFq8iyhYxgQp7gZQ75NgWZkAJn7BHC2P1cLog-vFdQgf8Vs/s640/dance1.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
We drove to the
class and I looked in the rear view mirror to get a glimpse of her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She practiced her arm movements as if she
were already in class.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not allowing her car
seat to restrain her too much, she moved as if a soundtrack played in her ears;
arms raising and lowering in rhythmic motions. And her eyes sparkled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was so excited.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Three short years ago, her eyes were black
and lifeless, but today they sparkled as if the world were hers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She knows who she is, at least in this
moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Beloved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Beautiful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1QTVJKbyuNCQ2aZsPKUaN_j2xqWv4mlxxEQoUsCt6cWtSgxt2_iftXyIQQPvk_qZQ0_FYWykHezztPHz0Mp1VXczey0cA99FD4V8y1auyb6AsuKZtmTLc7JAbuLfdlEgxtgS6fmnTSbU/s1600/dance3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1065" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1QTVJKbyuNCQ2aZsPKUaN_j2xqWv4mlxxEQoUsCt6cWtSgxt2_iftXyIQQPvk_qZQ0_FYWykHezztPHz0Mp1VXczey0cA99FD4V8y1auyb6AsuKZtmTLc7JAbuLfdlEgxtgS6fmnTSbU/s640/dance3.JPG" width="424" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
She was full of
nervous excitement as the class began and I was too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I stayed at the glass door and watched her as
closely as I could.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My first girl at her
first ballet class and I was mesmerized.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I watched her and remembered how far she has come, I felt Him whisper to
me . . .<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I came
so that you may have life and have it more abundantly.<o:p></o:p></i></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><br /></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
That sparkle in
her eyes, that excitement for the promise of this day?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wants me to have it too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This abundant life He has given me, has
brought life to my life-less eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do my eyes
sparkle with the promise of abundant life each day?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“Mommy, put the
sparkly barrette in my hair,” she says as she hands me the barrette her
grandmother gave her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJZke7Xm0PGtCo8L7NyMnIQ3U0167kFQQ344uvHxJ2pR5ms-rZ8Mpr5pQ06aR2w_9Jgrh51g-CG3fYVeCeOh54K57QBrGNBd0hTtQ1BbLqh6ULGXn_Od5LAl08zZ6aZN5kCcOaoEuioWk/s1600/dance4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1216" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJZke7Xm0PGtCo8L7NyMnIQ3U0167kFQQ344uvHxJ2pR5ms-rZ8Mpr5pQ06aR2w_9Jgrh51g-CG3fYVeCeOh54K57QBrGNBd0hTtQ1BbLqh6ULGXn_Od5LAl08zZ6aZN5kCcOaoEuioWk/s640/dance4.JPG" width="486" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
It’s a reminder to
me of the crown He gives each of His daughters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We are daughters of the King.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
places a crown on our heads.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are
jeweled because we are <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">His</i></b> beloved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That barrette sparkled in her hair as the
jewels in a royal crown.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because she is
royalty after all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Daughter of the
King.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This day, in the moment, she <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">FEELS</i></b>
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I am challenged to accept my
royalty. My crown.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Felicity is adorned
and beautiful, dancing into her rightful place as an heir to the kingdom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I smile to myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I watched her dance across the room, He
nudges me again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Dance
into YOUR inheritance.”</i></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><br /></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
It seems a silly
thought to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A sparkle in my eye, a crown
on my head, dancing in freedom?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh, it
feels like time and struggles and hurts have stamped the sparkle out and before
I knew it, I took the crown off, not truly feeling royal at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the freedom to dance left me long
ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Too serious, too concerned of how
silly I may look dancing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet, He
brought this precious little girl into my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Who in a short span of the first 18 months of her life, had the sparkle
snuffed out, crown knocked off, and no time to dance either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet, she is in front of me now, dancing into
her inheritance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A confidence in her
that she knows she is special, and beautiful, and a daughter of the King.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My heart leaps.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s possible for me too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Not
just possible, but essential</b>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To
know that He places jewels on my head and calls me His daughter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That He has an inheritance for me that He is
calling me to dance into.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is never
too late.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It isn’t too late for my
daughter, once called by what she lacked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And it isn’t too late for me either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This dance, is a process.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One
point in our lives, we step more into our inheritance but we are not totally
there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is a deeper, wider,
fullness He is waiting for us to enter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There is a freedom He is calling us to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A stand up straight, and carry yourself like the royalty that you are,
sort of freedom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A confidence that you
are not defined by how the world has defined you, but by the name and position
that He has given you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></div>
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<o:p></o:p><br />
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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So, get your crown
out the drawer you put it in, dust it off and place it back onto you head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are a daughter of the King.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are royalty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are precious, and special and He has a
special place for you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A role that only
you can fulfill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is nudging you to
live more abundantly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is asking you
to dance into your inheritance.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11571439982499787798noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7195442955424019204.post-82932499198695480522018-11-16T10:49:00.002-05:002018-11-16T10:49:27.228-05:00Five Months In<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> 5 months is such a short time. 5 months feels
like forever. We have been in our new state, new home for 5 months
now. Long enough for the excitement to wane and the honeymoon period to
end, yet not long enough to feel like we are truly home. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> So I
thought I would take a few moments to update everyone, and write mainly so I
can remember just how our adjustment is going. Like my previous post,
when we were just weeks into the big move, we still love it here. We love
your home, neighborhood, church, and school. They are all challenging adjustments
at times, but, while I do not like to go by "feel", each place just
feels right for our family, even if intellectually it doesn’t make a lot of sense. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> The
kids are doing well over all. They all take turns having a hard time with
adjustment, and thankfully there are no more than two kids having a tough time
at the same time. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> We
didn't join the parish I thought we would join, but I really love our
parish. It is a vibrant, active community with great priests. I am
still getting used to seeing a church full of Packers clothing on game day
Sundays, and I can never seem to remember that confessions are not before the
Saturday evening vigil, but other than that we are settling into our church community.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> If there
is one area that is probably the hardest for me, it is school. I LOVE our
school. I love the classical, authentically Catholic approach. Yet,
I miss my boys who are in school. While, homeschooling was challenging, I
truly miss them at home and all of my kids being together. My three oldest
have always been close, and I can tell they miss each other too. I struggle
with what we have lost having the boys in school. Yet, they are gaining
so much being in school. I have come to recognize, even more so, that
there is no perfect or right choice when it comes to schooling. And the
right choice for a family may change year to year, and place to place.
There are days I have to remind myself of that, over and over (and over) again
when I idealize what homeschooling all my kiddos was like, and idealize others'
current experiences of homeschooling. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> One
thing living in Wisconsin is teaching me, is to live more fully each day and
maybe that is the biggest and best lesson I am learning thus far. Embrace
each day. Find beauty in each day. It has been pretty cold here
lately. Like, not-even-above-freezing-for-a-week cold. We came from
Maryland, where we stayed inside when it got that cold. We didn’t really
leave the comfort of our heated home. Yet, here, we head outside.
We walk through the Reforestation Camp, walk the local bike trails, and walk
our neighborhood. The other day it was in the 20s and I looked at the kids
and said, "We are going for a walk!" The kids got on their snow
gear and we headed for a walk through the neighborhood. And you know
what? We ran into several neighbors. They were out walking and working
in driveways. We stopped and chatted with several. My neighbors are
teaching me a lot about not letting a little thing like weather stop you
from living. Embrace the beauty of where you are. With that in
mind, our oldest has joined a cross country ski team, and the rest of us will
be taking cross country ski lessons this winter. I honestly cannot wait
to get on skis! <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">
Other than that, little by little, we are forming community here. We are
having people over for dinner, chatting with other families at pick up at
school, laughing with neighbors, rejoicing with families who are welcoming
their newest addition and making them meals, and mourning with families who
have lost little ones even before they can wrap him in their arms, or lost
another family member too soon. A month ago a neighbor brought me gas on the
side of the road when I ran out of gas and Pete was out of town for work (yep,
it really happened). When I reflected on all of this over the last week,
I realized something. This is community. Our roots are starting to
reach into the ground a little here before it freezes for the winter.
And, when spring rolls around, those small roots will grow a little bit stonger
and grow a little bit deeper. When spring comes, our family may just be blooming here. I am hopeful for spring.</span></span></div>
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Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11571439982499787798noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7195442955424019204.post-92231622866546315252018-10-04T16:22:00.000-04:002019-03-15T16:22:30.099-04:00Rebuild My Church<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> </span></div>
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<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> In the business of the morning, attempting to get my gaggle of children ready for school and mass, I forgot that today was October 4th, one of my favorite feast days. But it seems that even in the craziness of the morning, God was planting seeds for me to better embrace the message that He had for St Francis so many ages ago. </span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /> As I was attempting to make sure all of my children were awake this morning, I passed by our little library nook in our upstairs hallway. My 4 year old was sitting in the nook, looking at books. Books were strewn all over the floor around his lap. A book about William Wilberforce caught my eye. William Wilberforce was an English politician who was instrumental in ending the slave trade in England. His life story is told in the movie Amazing Grace. After the slave trade was ended, Sir James Mackintosh wrote this to Wilberforce,</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br />"We ought, rather, to marvel that the short span of the life of one man, when well and wisely directed, is sufficient to remedy the miseries of millions for ages."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> This line to Wilberforce has remained with me since I read it. Don’t we all want our lives to be “well and wisely directed,” in alignment with God’s will?</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> This thought was still in my head when mass began and I was happily reminded that today is the Feast of St Francis. And then the words Christ spoke to Francis rang in my heart.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Rebuild My Church</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> And my immediate thought was, “Lord, please send another Francis to rebuild Your Church right now, she could sure use it.” We need another Saint willing to say Yes to You Lord, yes to the big mission of healing Your Church.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> In that moment, “Rebuild My Church” was echoed in my heart again. I began to get what He was trying to teach me through St Francis and William Wilberforce today. Rebuilding His Church, affecting the lives of millions of others, begins with one moment, one yes, one stone. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">When St Francis heard Christ ask him to rebuild His church, he saw a church near him, in shambles, and began there. He didn’t envision a big movement that would touch the lives of millions over time. He started with the concrete (literally); what was right in front of him.</span></div>
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<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; display: inline; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /> Our church needs a lot of rebuilding today. And Christ is asking each of us to roll up our sleeves and to begin with the “church” closest to us. He is giving us this Saint’s feast day to remind us to pick up the stones that have fallen and to begin the work. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br />Rebuild My Church</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /> Maybe today Christ is asking you to reach out to that neighbor that hasn’t been to church for years, to invite him into your home and show him Christ’s love by simply being kind.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /> Maybe he is asking you to lend your talents to begin a bible study in your church. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /> Maybe He is calling you to reach out to your parish priest, who is heavily burdened by the brokenness of the Church. Send him a letter to let him know you are praying for him. Thank him for his service. Invite him to dinner with your family.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /> Or maybe there is a new family at your parish that you have seen but never talked to, never welcomed. Rush after them this weekend and introduce yourself.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /> Or maybe it is your domestic church that needs its walls shored up. Go on a date night this weekend. Spend quality time with your teen who needs some extra time with you. Read one more book to your toddler before bed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /> Rebuilding His church does not begin with grand gestures. It begins with the small. Those ones that we often miss because they are right under our noses when we are looking far off for something grander. But just like William Wilberforce and St Francis, begin with what is right in front of you. Order your actions today, well. Begin with the “church” that needs rebuilding right in front of you. Take the first step, pick up that first stone and begin the rebuilding process. Don’t worry about what may come from it a year from now, or even tomorrow, just take that first step today and allow God use your efforts to fully rebuild His church.</span></div>
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Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11571439982499787798noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7195442955424019204.post-40546669439059662372018-09-06T16:33:00.000-04:002019-03-15T16:34:45.957-04:00Do Whatever He Tells You<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The wedding feast at Cana is one of my favorite scriptures and on Thursday nights, when praying the family rosary, everyone knows not even to ask to pray the second luminous mystery. It’s mine.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And over the last few weeks, “Do whatever He tells you” seems to have invaded all my prayer times and quiet moments, and clearly I need to be reminded of it, in these days when back to school photos grace my social media feeds.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b><i> “Do whatever He tells you.” </i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">When you are faced with other’s choices continually . . . . homeschooling, tutorials, co-ops, public school, private school. Work outside of the home, stay at home, or crafty etsy shop owner. Minimalist with a perfectly clean, tiny home, or not-so minimalist with a big home, and shelves lined with book after book. The differences can be dizzying. They can call into question what we are meant to do too. Am I truly making the right decision? I know I ask myself that. <b><i>A lot.</i></b> Especially in this time where so much has changed for our family. Am I doing the right thing? Should two of my kids really be in school? Should my other kids really be homeschooled? Am I doing enough? Why do I STILL have piles of unfolded laundry in my living room (some things don’t change)? It is so easy to look around and see what others are doing and get discouraged, or second guess what He is asking of you. But, Our Blessed Mother points us in the right direction.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>Do whatever He tells you.</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Not what your neighbor is doing. Not what your best friend is doing or the mom you look up to.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>Do whatever He tells you.</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And it may be different than what he told you last year. Or last week. Or even yesterday.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>Do whatever He tells you.</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">That’s when the miracles happen. That is when the water turns to wine.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And I am pretty sure the servants questioned His direction . . . “Um, what? Why should we put water in the jars? How will that change anything??? <i>There is <b>NO</b> wine</i>.” Just as Peter questioned Jesus in today’s gospel when Jesus asked him to cast out in the deep. Peter had been fishing all night and had caught nothing. Why should he do what Jesus asked? All of the other fishermen were probably bringing in their empty boats and going home to get rest. Peter probably looked around and thought, I just want to go home. I want to do what the other fishermen are doing. It makes NO sense to cast my nets again.</span></div>
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<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>Do whatever He tells you.</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Yet, Peter did it. He cast his nets in the deep. The servants filled the jars with water, to the brim.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>Do whatever He tells you.</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And a miracle happened. The nets overflowed with fish. The best wine was served.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>Do whatever He tells you.</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">It may not make sense. It may look very different from what others are doing. But, when you do whatever He tells you, He performs the miracles. In these days, when the shininess of the great beginnings fade from your memory and you may be questioning your choices, remember that when you do whatever He tells you, you are allowing Him to transform the ordinary into a miracle.</span></div>
Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11571439982499787798noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7195442955424019204.post-88972005702622645332018-08-17T11:01:00.001-04:002018-08-17T12:24:26.014-04:00Fasting and the Current State of Our Church<br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18.0pt;"> I love
researching diets. If it is new and popular, I probably have read about
it some and maybe have even tried it. Lately, fasting has gained
popularity. You can find books that will provide research on just
how good fasting is for the body. And, I have been intrigued, mainly
because I am horrible at fasting and the thought of restricting myself from
eating food completely sounds too extreme. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18.0pt;">As Catholics we are called to days
of fasting and abstinence, and for as strong as I like to think I am, I am
quite a wimpy "faster." But, after reading a great deal about
fasting and its <a href="https://articles.mercola.com/sites/articles/archive/2016/10/16/complete-guide-fasting.aspx"><span style="color: blue;">physical benefits</span></a>, I started to feel like God was
asking me to get more serious about fasting, not for the physical
benefits but for the spiritual ones. My husband and I were out for a
walk the other night and I was talking about my new found respect for
fasting and how I feel called to do it more, for spiritual reasons,
and I started to speak about how amazing it is that fasting has so many
physical benefits and I practically shouted,. "Of course it
does! God wouldn't call us to fast for spiritual reasons at the
deficit to our body! He designed fasting to benefit us spiritually <i>and</i> physically!"</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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And so for the last several
weeks, I have begun to fast more, read scripture about fasting, and pray
more while fasting. I am certainly not great at it and there <i>may</i> have
been a fasting day (or two) that ended with an unplanned glass of wine, but I
began to grow in my desire for fasting. And during this time too, I would
read stories of pilgrims, going miles on their knees to seek healing,
penitential acts of those seeking Christ's mercy. And I thought about how
comfortable I was <i>NOT</i> doing things like that. Too
comfortable. Why have we, as a culture and a Church, gotten away from practices
like these?</span></div>
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All of these revelations about fasting
and penitence came right amidst the scandals and reports being
released, the brokenness of our beloved Church and the sinfulness of some
of our Church's leaders finally exposed and in the light. Like so
many of the faithful, I read the details, sickened by the accounts of abuse and
of it being brushed aside. I read about the rise, and fall, of a
cardinal that never should have donned red. My heart ached. And my
heart ached more as I read the polished responses from our body of
bishops. I didn't want to read about policy changes that will be
enacted (though they are needed). I wanted to read that our holy bishops,
too, had hearts that were breaking. Hearts, willing to stand in the gap,
and pray and fast in reparation for the sins of their fellow priests and
bishops. God was speaking to me so clearly about the necessity for
fasting and true acts of penitence, why weren't our Shepherds on earth
calling us all to a fast too?</span></div>
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I read Matthew 23 and in these woes, I
saw some of our church leaders. And I got angry. I got angry
at them, and I got pretty mad at myself too. Was I doing all I could
do? A few years ago, I was on a retreat led by a truly holy priest.
One of his talks centered around the need for the laity to pray for
priests. He reminded us, of what I so often don't even think about, that
our priests are under constant attack. Our fervent prayers,
are like Aaron and Hur holding up Moses' arms when he no longer had the
strength on his own (Exodus 17:12-15). I realized that my simple
mentioning a priest's name at the beginning of our family rosary, or saying
"Lord hear our prayer" during the intentions for priests each Sunday
was not the depth of prayer that God was asking of me for the men that He has
called to the priesthood and to be our Shepherds. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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He wants fasting. Real, heart rending, fasting.
From me. From our Bishops and Priests. From all of us. To
heal our own physical bodies and to heal the body of Christ on earth,
His Church. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18.0pt;">Put on
sackcloth, you priests, and mourn; wail, you who minister before
the altar. Come, spend the night in sackcloth, you who minister before my
God; for the grain offerings and drink offerings are withheld from the
house of your God. Declare a holy fast; call a sacred assembly. Summon the
elders and all who live in the land<br />
to the house of the Lord your God, and cry out to
the Lord. Joel 1:13-14</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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The scandal of McCarrick and the release of the grand jury findings are our
Jonah, crying out in the streets, "Repent!" </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18.0pt;">The Ninevites believed God. A fast was proclaimed, and all of
them, from the greatest to the least, put on sackcloth.</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18.0pt;">When Jonah’s warning reached the king of Nineveh, he rose from his
throne, took off his royal robes, covered himself with sackcloth and sat down
in the dust.</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18.0pt;">This is the proclamation he issued in Nineveh: “By the decree of
the king and his nobles: Do not let people or animals, herds or flocks, taste
anything; do not let them eat or drink. But let people and animals be
covered with sackcloth. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Let everyone
call urgently on God</i>. Let them give up their evil ways and
their violence. Who knows? God may yet relent and with
compassion turn from his fierce anger so that we will not perish.”</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18.0pt;">When God saw what they did and how they turned from their evil
ways, he relented and did not bring on them the destruction he had
threatened. Jonah 3:5-10</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18.0pt;">The greatest to the
least . . . no matter our role, or lack thereof, in what is
happening in our church. Fasting. Sackcloth. Ashes.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18.0pt;">And just as the King of
Nineveh rose from his throne, and removed his royal robes and proclaimed a
fast, so too our church leaders. I don't think Christ is asking for shiny
pectoral crosses and beautiful vestments right now, that shine like whitewashed
tombs, and I don't think that is what the hurting Body of Christ needs to see
either. We want a man like the King of Nineveh, willing to
remove his robes, willing to sit with us in the dust and plead for God's
mercy.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18.0pt;">Sackcloth and ashes.
Every member of our church uniting to plead for God's mercy and for the Holy
Spirit to cleanse the church. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18.0pt;">Christ's
knees were bloodied and covered with dirt and sweat in reparation for our
sins. Let us all stand in the gap, allow our knees to become bruised and
covered in dust and sweat in true prayer to our Father in heaven who can renew
His Church.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18.0pt;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Please consider joining
many in fasting and prayer for our priests each Friday from 9AM-5PM.
While a water fast has been suggested, please fast as you are able. Those
who are fasting will be offering up the <a href="http://www.rosary-prayers.eu/content/other-rosaries/chaplet-for-priests/"><span style="color: blue;">Chaplet for Priests</span></a> as well. Thank you
Alexis Love for sharing your heart and this fast with us all! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Another great prayer for
our priests can be found <a href="http://standrewapostle.org/wp-content/uploads/2013/01/Litany-of-Prayers-for-Priests-Booklet-Style-FINAL-1.pdf"><span style="color: blue;">here</span></a>. This was the one that was given to me
on the retreat I spoke of above. I think it is time for me to print it
out again and pray it every day!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br />Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11571439982499787798noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7195442955424019204.post-88151272730027072182018-07-05T11:46:00.001-04:002018-07-05T11:46:52.052-04:00Settling In <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk2j_TbfoKq7Skf7zyT7P1Y7tV5Mj3DbnuLh2cLPWPkMeuRhl_GWDHmZ5kEQSsUe34ub6Cg3eRKcD0qLHjrxIxtnZhANHddoq3qILUJDZnvT8nTzpTCAqiU276N2ErV177C-jtieBUSk4/s1600/030+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1111" data-original-width="1600" height="443" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk2j_TbfoKq7Skf7zyT7P1Y7tV5Mj3DbnuLh2cLPWPkMeuRhl_GWDHmZ5kEQSsUe34ub6Cg3eRKcD0qLHjrxIxtnZhANHddoq3qILUJDZnvT8nTzpTCAqiU276N2ErV177C-jtieBUSk4/s640/030+%25282%2529.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I find it ironic that the last post I posted was about our move that did not happen and how God wanted me to be moldable. When I typed those words and prayed those words, "God make me moldable," "Move to Wisconsin" was NOT what I was envisioning. But, sometimes God's will is surprising and unexpected.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">So, here we are. 18 days as Wisconsinites. So many people have called and texted, asking me how we are doing and I often find my words fall short. I am better at reflecting and writing out my thoughts, so this is for all those who have asked and are wondering . . .</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">We are doing well. The move has felt very natural in so many ways. It feels comfortable here. I haven't felt out of place or a "fish out of water" here at all. The kids all like it here. Some miss their friends tremendously, which is expected. One of my "littles" has shown some regression, also expected, but everyone is adjusting so well to the new house and neighborhood. I think they all will grow to love Wisconsin. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuUZ3trMGi1R2azNwruy7Q-hyM-kTlulZgAlZaJ8x3wQKDPo00mgIiUAj1VsdVPMLk87MxNktHP2AF0-grLHMkxbQ2QUuRg6zlQF21-RDXL9X_Ftbzj5gc759-VY2XAhrOVwkRgx2Zvnk/s1600/049+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1095" data-original-width="1600" height="436" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuUZ3trMGi1R2azNwruy7Q-hyM-kTlulZgAlZaJ8x3wQKDPo00mgIiUAj1VsdVPMLk87MxNktHP2AF0-grLHMkxbQ2QUuRg6zlQF21-RDXL9X_Ftbzj5gc759-VY2XAhrOVwkRgx2Zvnk/s640/049+%25282%2529.JPG" width="640" /></a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Our dog Sam is a country dog at heart. He Loves Wisconsin, going on long walks with me in the morning and checking out the woods on our property!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I <i><b>luuuve</b></i> it here. I mean, truly, love it here. I wake up and look out my window and see the trees and think, "I cannot believe I get to live in this beautiful area." But, don't think it all has been idyllic . . . I have woken up some mornings, looked out that same window and thought. "What have we done? Why did we uproot our family from everything we know and move to Wisconsin?!?!" Overall, though, I think God has truly made it clear that this move is all a part of His plan.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The house is perfect for our family. The house we bought was on the market for months and it surprises me that no one snatched it up before we did. One of my boys has said many times, "Maybe God meant this house for us and that is why no one bought it before us." And, I think he is right. The house has space that others may find odd or quirky, but it is what I had hoped for. There are over grown flower beds, with so much hidden beauty, waiting to be uncovered. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Yet, I think I love the neighborhood more than the physical house. We have moved to a neighborhood that is sort of a cross between a suburban neighborhood and quiet, secluded country living in the woods. Our house is on about an acre and a half. The streets are quiet here and the kids go biking several times a day and I never worry about traffic, etc. We have met most of our neighbors and everyone is so nice and friendly. We are about 15-20 minutes from most things (shopping, library, church, etc) and it doesn't bother me. I know that suburban living, being 5 minutes from almost everything, is nice and preferable to most, but I think we have found our niche here. Over time we hope to fix up the flower beds, plant a small garden and get some chickens, but for now we are taking our time and trying to settle into our home and find a good rhythm for our summer.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">We have been here for 3 Sundays now and have attended three different parishes, all three vastly different from each other. While I think we have found our parish, our "church home," Sundays are the hardest for me and it is during the middle of mass that I miss our former hometown the most. I miss the familiarity of the pews we used to sit in, our parish priest's homilies, and looking around the church and seeing people who have loved us, and we have loved for years. I have teared up at every single mass here, missing our former church family. It has been less than a month, so I know truly becoming a part of the community here will take time. And, for now, I cling to the fact that Christ is the same everywhere He may lead us. He is present in Maryland at our former parish and He is here with us at any parish we attend. That is the beauty of our Catholic faith.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Please continue to pray for our family as we settle into our life here in this beautiful corner of Wisconsin. </span></div>
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<br />Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11571439982499787798noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7195442955424019204.post-76430091281309574482017-12-29T15:04:00.000-05:002017-12-29T15:04:39.086-05:00My verse for the year<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i><b><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; text-align: justify;">But now, O LORD, You are our Father, We are the clay, and You our potter; And all of us are the work of Your hand. </span><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; text-align: justify;"> Isaiah 6:48</span></b></i></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">There are boxes being unpacked in our home. Boxes packed and meant to be unpacked in a different home, our new home, in a matter of two weeks. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #001320; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #fdfeff;">About two weeks before Christmas things changed. Situations changed. And what we were convinced was God's will just months before, seemed so unlike it now. Things beyond our control happened and suddenly we were praying and we felt that the best and only solution was to walk away from this new house. And at the end of a week of uncertainty, anxiety and tension, once the decision was made to walk away from the house, there was a great deal of peace. But, as the dust settles from the decision, even though we know it is the best for everyone involved, there is still sadness, still this sense of loss. As we have prayed again and again, we know each of all of the steps we have made in this whole house journey have been God's will. So many things worked perfectly in so many ways to show that He had His hand on it all. And, even as it all fell apart, I still saw His hand in it all. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #001320; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #fdfeff;">The questions during prayer came . . . Why, Lord, would you place us in a position like this only for us to have to walk away? I never shared any details here, but the house, the one that was to be our new home, was beautiful. It was far more than I ever expected. We began to make plans as to how we could use that home for His glory. What could we give back to Him for giving us the gift of that home? I planned parties and get togethers on the back deck. I envisioned housing travelers for the March for Life. But, all those plans washed away as things fell apart.</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #fdfeff;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #fdfeff;">Yet He is faithful and He met my heart in prayer as I asked why. He actually had some questions for me . . .</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #fdfeff;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #fdfeff;"><i>Will you be clay in My hands?</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #fdfeff;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #fdfeff;"><i>Will you abandon the plans you have, even if you are sure that I called you to them, if I call you in another direction? </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #fdfeff;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #fdfeff;"><i>Will you set aside your desires for something better? Will you set them aside for Mine?</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #fdfeff;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #fdfeff;"><i>Will you allow Me to mold you and change you as I wish?</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #fdfeff;">The planner in me yearns to know the path before us, yet it seems God is only lighting our path one day at a time. I do not know what this next year may hold. I just know He is asking me to be moldable.</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #fdfeff;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #fdfeff;">Now, that is my theme, my prayer for 2018; May I be like clay in His hands. </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #fdfeff;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #fdfeff;">And I am so excited to see the beauty He creates in my life in 2018. Have your way Lord! </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #fdfeff;"><br /></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; text-align: justify;">But now, O LORD, You are our Father, We are the clay, and You our potter; And all of us are the work of Your hand. </span><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; text-align: justify;">Isaiah 6:48</span></b></span><br />
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Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11571439982499787798noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7195442955424019204.post-46096083687961268262017-01-30T09:48:00.004-05:002017-01-30T10:18:00.405-05:00The Gift (Our NFP story) Part 2<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><i>(You can read <a href="http://blessedwithfullhands.blogspot.com/2017/01/the-gift-our-nfp-story-part-i.html" target="_blank">Part 1 here</a>) </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> So, by the time Andrew was 18 months old, we knew God was
saying no to having more children at the time.
And, as mentioned before, He provided so much peace about it, that we
knew we had discerned correctly. Yet,
even with that peace, I had to mourn the fact the we might not ever have any
more children. Yes, we were still open
to life, of course, but from the time after Andrew’s birth, until today, we
practiced NFP faithfully to avoid pregnancy.
And it took time to accept that we might not have any more
children. There were times when I would
hold a friend’s new born baby and then go home and cry because I knew I might
not ever know the joy of holding my own baby again. We live in a community where life is
celebrated and families are large.
Usually more than one friend is pregnant at a time. In those early days, each pregnancy
announcement was met with great joy for the friend, but often left me with an
empty feeling. I understood, in many
ways, why God was calling us to not have any more children at the time; my body
clearly needed to heal and then there was the pull to adoption, but it often did not make it any easier to
accept. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> But as with many challenges, time did heal the wounds. And after a while, I began to relish our time
as a family of 5. We enjoyed special
time as a family of five that I will always cherish. Joshua, Caleb and Andrew are still affectionately
referred to as “the boys” even though they are no longer the only boys in our
family. Personally, I found healing in
running. Miles of pounding pavement
turned into some of my best prayer times.
Alone, I could speak to God during those miles and I felt His comfort
and His guidance. I tackled the
marathon, not just once, but twice. The
call to adoption seemed to becoming stronger.
I will not go into depth about our journey to saying yes to adoption
here, but you can read the two posts I wrote about that a few years ago <a href="http://blessedwithfullhands.blogspot.com/2013/05/a-post-that-i-have-been-wanting-to.html" target="_blank">here</a> and <a href="http://blessedwithfullhands.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-journey-to-yes-part-ii.html" target="_blank">here</a>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> During this time, we did not “reevaluate each month.” We felt God was saying no and did not question
that discernment, knowing He would make it clear if that answer had
changed. And the beauty of NFP is that
really, we aren’t in control, God is and we knew that and honored it. And, honestly, it was easy most of the
time. We followed the strictest guidelines
for NFP with little trouble, even as the years passed and I aged and the signs
changed a bit. I truly believe that it
all was a gift from God. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> In 2013, we began the process of adoption, and were blessed
with the gift of Felicity in October, 2014. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Six months later, we began the process to bring Thomas home. I
often called Thomas our “surprise adoption" because we did not plan to adopt so soon after Felicity had come home, but God made it clear that Thomas
was our son. Once again, we opened our home and our hearts to new life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> Our paperwork was moving along. Our dossier was being
authenticated and we were just a few short weeks away from our dossier being
sent to China. We were so excited to get
him home as soon as possible. It was the
end of the summer and I just felt different.
One of the side effects of NFP is that you learn to listen to your body
closely and you get to know it so well. And in those last days of summer
vacation, before school started, I began to suspect I was pregnant. I was a good week away from being able to
read a positive pregnancy test and it had been 7 years since I had been
pregnant, so my memory was not the best at what those early days feel like, but
I suspected just the same. I looked at
my NFP chart, recounted days just to make sure I had not miscounted. I told Pete my suspicion. He laughed.
For years we were following “the rules” and this month was no
different. He was pretty sure that this month
would be no different than the last oh, a hundred, or so. But Pete was wrong. A week later, two pink lines showed that even
though we followed the rules of NFP, that God’s will was stronger than the
rules and we were blessed with a precious life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> But, here is where it gets hard. In those early days and months, I didn’t feel
so blessed. The overwhelming emotion was
fear. Fear that our adoption would be
stopped and that, due to this unexpected blessing, Thomas would remain an
orphan. Fear that due to scar tissue,
there would be complications during the pregnancy and delivery. And both of those fears were almost a reality
(you can read about that story <a href="http://blessedwithfullhands.blogspot.com/2016/01/her-name-my-word-for-2016-and.html" target="_blank">here</a>). Fear in wondering how in the world we
would be able to handle having two toddlers, from trauma, one newly home, and
then a newborn to care for too. It was
the first time that “being open to life” began to be really hard. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> Thankfully, we serve a God that loves us and meets us in our
human frailty. During the Advent before
Thomas came home and Hope was born, we were at mass and a reading from Isaiah
rung through the church and through my heart.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Lift up your eyes and look around;</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>They all gather together, they come to you;</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Your son(s) shall come from far away, </i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i> And your
daughter(s) shall be carried on her (their) nurses’ arms.</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Then you shall see and be radiant;</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i> Your heart
shall thrill and rejoice,</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Because the abundance of the sea shall be brought to you,</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>The wealth of the nations shall come to you.</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i> Isaiah 60:4-5</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">God was speaking directly to me though this scripture (I
changed it slightly . . . original text is in parenthesis). Our son Thomas was coming home from afar and
Hope would be placed in my arms by her nurse and while I did not understand
what the rejoicing would look like, I kept coming back to this scripture at
those times when the waves a fear would roll over me and I felt like I was
drowning and it brought me some peace.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> 2016 began, Thomas, Pete and Joshua landed back in the
United States on March 6<sup>th</sup> and my heart overflowed with joy. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"></span>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgti9IVPrIhsbv9_tll90b5EIRiZxFo1eZBC1kmHG8aX3FyPUb0SXKJO2Sj_m02-DQzuvQtV-J6_Gc1zInTqq9wG_lTnSv9tHYBGaTFG6VLDHORBVqeE6_v5lIdbI6Esb9IDfxZy_opSKw/s1600/easter2016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgti9IVPrIhsbv9_tll90b5EIRiZxFo1eZBC1kmHG8aX3FyPUb0SXKJO2Sj_m02-DQzuvQtV-J6_Gc1zInTqq9wG_lTnSv9tHYBGaTFG6VLDHORBVqeE6_v5lIdbI6Esb9IDfxZy_opSKw/s640/easter2016.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Hope was born on May 3<sup>rd</sup> and a new
hope was born in me. And during those months,
all those fears were washed away. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>“Then you shall see and be radiant;</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Your heart shall thrill and rejoice.”</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> There are mornings I wake up, sleep deprived and groggy from
lack of sleep and I am surrounded by my three youngest, two of which like to make
their way to our bed after Pete wakes for work;
Hope to my left and Felicity and Thomas to my right and my heart does
thrill and rejoice. These precious
little lives have opened me up to a glory of God that I can’t quite
describe. It is hard and oh-so-messy and
more exhausting than you can imagine, but there is beauty in it that I have not
experienced before. I call Thomas and
Hope our surprise presents because neither was planned for or expected. They have taught me that sometimes surprise
presents make the best gifts. Thomas and
Felicity bring an immense joy that I had not known before we entered into the
journey of adoption. And Hope, oh, Hope
reminds me that babies make everything seem so much better. Her smile and sparkling eyes bring a new light
to our home. I hold her and am reminded
just how good it feels to hold a baby again. In these moments, I know that
our family is just as God planned. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> Those years of practicing NFP when we felt God was saying
no, allowed us the time necessary to say yes to life through adoption. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> And it turns out those years, and all those miles run,
allowed my body to heal to be ready for Hope . . . . at my post-partum follow up with my OB, I
asked how much scar tissue I had and she responded that I looked great. She ended it with, “All that running you did
must have helped!”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> I do not know what the future holds. Will we adopt again? Will we have another baby? I don’t know.
I do know that ultimately it is in the Lord’s hands and just as I
relished the time I had with “the boys” I now relish this time now with my
crazy crew. I know, too, that God calls
all families to be open to life in different ways. For some it may be welcoming their 10<sup>th</sup>
child by birth, for others it may be hoping to welcome their first through
adoption, for others it may be somewhere in between, and still others it may be
giving of themselves generously in other ways.
That is the beauty of being open to life and allowing God to guide our
family’s growth as He wills. Families are
not meant to all follow the same pattern, or look the same. Each couple, each family, mirrors God’s love
in its own unique and beautiful way. And I am grateful for our journey and the
beauty that is a part of our family because we were open to life.</span><br />
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Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11571439982499787798noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7195442955424019204.post-40198111604611852822017-01-24T14:32:00.002-05:002017-01-24T17:43:29.382-05:00The Gift (Our NFP story) Part I<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">(I started writing this post months ago, but have not had time to refine it and finish it. I have felt the need to hit "publish" lately though. Maybe it is because Hope is too quickly approaching 12 months old and my desire to share it's sentiments would be lost soon. Or maybe it is because this week is the March for Life and the sacredness of life is before me in a precious little girl and I want to remember that, in words, here. But whatever the reason, here is our story of seeking God's will and and being open to life.)</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">Shortly</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>after we announced that we were<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.2" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">expecting</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>baby Hope, I felt that I needed to
share our<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.3" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">NFP</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>story. Partially, it was because
we had so many people say things<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.4" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">like</span></span>, "What a
miracle!" or share stories of how people they knew were infertile, adopted
and then had a baby of their own, that<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.5" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">I felt</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>that many people probably got the
wrong idea about why we had three boys, waited a while and adopted and then
found out we were expecting a baby while adopting. We got a lot of
"That always happens! People always seem to get pregnant while
adopting." I would typically just smile and nod my head, yet inside I was
thinking, "They really have no idea!" So, I felt compelled to share
our story. I told my husband and his<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.6" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">immediate</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>response was, "Are you sure you
want to do that? You could open yourself up to a lot of criticism."
He, wisely, suggested that I table the topic. And I did. But,
after Thomas came home and baby Hope arrived, the perfect-<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.7" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">ness</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>of God's plan before my eyes, I knew I
wanted to share our story. So, let me begin at the beginning . . .<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">About 17 years ago, Pete and I
got engaged. And, as all good Catholic engaged couples do, we attended an<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.8" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">NFP</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>class.
We fully embraced the Church's teachings on being open to life and
embraced learning the ins and outs of Natural Family Planning as well. And
it was easy to learn as I was the pattern of the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.9" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">typical</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>text book woman.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We were married 6<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.10" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">months</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>later.
Pete was living in Michigan and I had just left my job and<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.11" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">apartment</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>in<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.12" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">Steubenville</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>to
move up to Michigan and start our married life. I am not<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.13" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">exactly</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>good
with change and most<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.14" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">change</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>causes lots of anxiety and sleepless
nights, so after much prayer, we knew<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.15" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">introducing</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>a baby to the mix right away probably
wasn't the best way to help me transition, so we used our knowledge of<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.16" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">NFP</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>to
ensure we would wait to have a baby.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">A year later, we knew it was time
and the planner in me had figured out the perfect month to try to<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.17" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">conceive</span></span>. That first month of hoping brought
forth a<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.18" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">positive</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>pregnancy test, and 9 months later, our
son Joshua.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggr5G9PYmDnOQvmZV7OSPuYI6oNsMmNtAZoIlG8G0ELOk8lysaKjSg-NeKzLdNR1MyOM7hjXzHmoqF8ileRIXWO_gtCgHFRVpHQNH-vlOxwyJeRUu-uNUGm_MV8WRRQ7ASELhgj8JBkMQ/s1600/joshua.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="550" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggr5G9PYmDnOQvmZV7OSPuYI6oNsMmNtAZoIlG8G0ELOk8lysaKjSg-NeKzLdNR1MyOM7hjXzHmoqF8ileRIXWO_gtCgHFRVpHQNH-vlOxwyJeRUu-uNUGm_MV8WRRQ7ASELhgj8JBkMQ/s640/joshua.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Joshua - Born before we aquired a digital camera</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Over the next several years, we
used<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.19" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">NFP</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>to both achieve pregnancy and to avoid
pregnancy. During part of that time, Pete was a full time PhD student for a
while and we had the WORST insurance ever and such little income, that we knew
that adding to our family during that time would not be a good<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.20" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">decision</span></span>. Two years later, Pete was in a full
time job again, we were no longer living is a tiny<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.21" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">apartment</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>in
a<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.22" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">college</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>dorm, and so we excitedly looked
forward to having another baby. Four months, a<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.24" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">positive</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>pregnancy test, and a few ultrasounds
later showed we would have another son, Caleb. Joshua and Caleb are three
years apart.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY_3BIdxgvO8M7vRIh4HZ4N__tvVxfu92rMLIb59aByUcR5GYJDqhdOuZ4c1Wa44OlnEFtS626E4qfvpV96CcA8BT0mbrZ2VM4zdcP4k6D7RWdWOVoY-jWBiKter6n060Yia63i6b0oA4/s1600/caleb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY_3BIdxgvO8M7vRIh4HZ4N__tvVxfu92rMLIb59aByUcR5GYJDqhdOuZ4c1Wa44OlnEFtS626E4qfvpV96CcA8BT0mbrZ2VM4zdcP4k6D7RWdWOVoY-jWBiKter6n060Yia63i6b0oA4/s640/caleb.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Caleb</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Right around the time Caleb
turned a year old, we felt that we had no grave reason to not have another
child. It was the first time we<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.25" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">weren</span></span>’t using<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.26" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">NFP</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>to
avoid<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.27" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">pregnancy</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>or to actively achieve a pregnancy.
We decided that we were open to having another baby whenever God wanted
to bless us. Caleb was just 15<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.28" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">months</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>old when we<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.29" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">found</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>out
we were expecting baby #3; Andrew.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIZC-bpWCoKLok7gtwMxQYsprI4tuFp3zmC9ujGVQjmj4CzFiSR0JDm9OkcbEUWD743SYYZt4dADPjGeuOlyu_nZx60b7kgHlwKBU2FAMgNEvhdgpBsgquHji-3gF2HUWdlxnZYwyDYFo/s1600/andrew.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIZC-bpWCoKLok7gtwMxQYsprI4tuFp3zmC9ujGVQjmj4CzFiSR0JDm9OkcbEUWD743SYYZt4dADPjGeuOlyu_nZx60b7kgHlwKBU2FAMgNEvhdgpBsgquHji-3gF2HUWdlxnZYwyDYFo/s640/andrew.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Andrew</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">All three of the boys were born
via c-section. Two of out three of them were horrible experiences, and
the third left me in a lot of pain. My<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.31" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">recovery</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>took forever and Andrew was 6 months
old and I would still sit up in bed in<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.32" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">the</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>morning, and it was hard to breathe.
It felt like I had to work to take a deep breath. I would have pain
in my lower<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.33" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">abdomen</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>and<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.34" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">although</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>my OB said that I was fine, after
talking with a<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.35" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">family</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.36" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">member</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>that
is a doctor, I was sure that damage had been done to my pelvic floor and I was
having problems with scar tissue. I headed to a PT who specialized in the
breakdown of scar tissue. I also began exercising. A lot. Running became
my therapy to the craziness of three boys and my PT encouraged it, mentioning
that the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.37" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">motion</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>of running would help to keep scar
tissue from<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.38" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">building</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>up again. But, the pain from the
c-<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.39" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">section</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>lasted until Andrew was around 18
months old. Several times a day, I would be reminded that something was still not
quite right.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And so, when we began to talk and
pray about having another baby, I was a bit apprehensive. My OB was<span class="apple-converted-space"> concerned and said </span>that she recommended me sitting down with many of the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.42" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">OBs</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.43" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">in the</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>practice and have a "panel
discussion" about my<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.44" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">situation</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>before we tried to have<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.45" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">another</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>baby.
I took that as a clear<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.46" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">directive</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>to not have any more babies.
After all, I did have a heart for adoption, but I was still conflicted.
The Catholic in me was really trying to figure out "is this a grave
reason?"<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Pete and I talked and prayed
about it a lot. I was unsure what God was calling us to do. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">One day I was at a friend's house
for a party. As I was leaving, I began talking to a friend who had had a
c-section that left her unable to have more<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.47" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">children</span></span>. As
we<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.48" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">stood</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.49" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">in front</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>of
our cars, she said something to me that struck my heart.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">"You have no peace, Katie.
Ask God to give you peace<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.50" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">about</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>whatever direction you are to
go."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I drove away and<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.51" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">immediately</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>went
to adoration.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And the answer came. It was
one of the few times in my life that I felt God speak audibly to me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">No. Do not try to have any more
children.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And with that no, an amazing
peace came. I knew that we had our answer<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span aria-haspopup="true" id=":df.58" role="menuitem" tabindex="-1">and</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>God
supplied an abundant amount of peace with it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I went home and told Pete.
We prayed together and knew, for that moment, what God was saying
about our family size. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">At that moment, our three
precious sons were enough.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWDLfz0qOG0aiwgJzvlZ3jtvQ0661HmTnh3tShPRCTfLMyeKm3w2CuTtUenHtoTxVgblMwWkMFdlsp8UAmfsCLEaDUcQogIzNhF6xQvTZEm9B5FZcT-x6yn2VQ3VDgRh-c0_tA-oRcq_A/s1600/oldie.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="604" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWDLfz0qOG0aiwgJzvlZ3jtvQ0661HmTnh3tShPRCTfLMyeKm3w2CuTtUenHtoTxVgblMwWkMFdlsp8UAmfsCLEaDUcQogIzNhF6xQvTZEm9B5FZcT-x6yn2VQ3VDgRh-c0_tA-oRcq_A/s640/oldie.JPG" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i>To be continued . . . </i></span></span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11571439982499787798noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7195442955424019204.post-15771206968288287692016-11-21T12:07:00.000-05:002016-11-21T12:07:35.554-05:00Monday Daybook<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYwfHox09AG6iZA2wLN7NvOm-sQ2BSeMPDW62jLgdAofc3qfoJmj_XrNpbiDlGU3njDgGzZ8SjWYMd1FLfGPgKgDB7p4HhDXMWrBVo3M0mM8B1njvV1XbszTxUYwpYaiu9XPexnRcGjao/s1600/fall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYwfHox09AG6iZA2wLN7NvOm-sQ2BSeMPDW62jLgdAofc3qfoJmj_XrNpbiDlGU3njDgGzZ8SjWYMd1FLfGPgKgDB7p4HhDXMWrBVo3M0mM8B1njvV1XbszTxUYwpYaiu9XPexnRcGjao/s640/fall.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A photo I took at Antietam Battlefield</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Outside my window . . . .</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></b>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">It is a beautiful sunny day! It is windy and cold too, but the colors outside my window just cannot be beat.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>I plan to . . . </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghWMs91N9tzVg9VkGPi-wl7nUEUeG6OjSW_jc8jsiw16YqZou623MQ9sqYsQEw6wJoWKEg2N8YavANCiKMmptQvqxT3y5Q9kwNX1z9yHkro7ENyG3dY866szkJGXpF1Tbt4s9xqwJEjd8/s1600/shoes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghWMs91N9tzVg9VkGPi-wl7nUEUeG6OjSW_jc8jsiw16YqZou623MQ9sqYsQEw6wJoWKEg2N8YavANCiKMmptQvqxT3y5Q9kwNX1z9yHkro7ENyG3dY866szkJGXpF1Tbt4s9xqwJEjd8/s640/shoes.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Well, I HAD planned to go to mass today. But after dropping the boys off at their tutorial and then coming home to get Thomas dressed for mass (he is the only one that I cannot seem to get out of his pajamas in time), I could not find a pair of shoes for him! I found three of his shoes. Three different shoes and I was fully prepared to take him to mass with two different shoes on (all pride is gone), but there was only one problem. Every single shoe I found was for the right foot!! So, somewhere in our house, or in one of the vans, are three left shoes. Pray I find them otherwise he will have to start wearing his sister's shoes!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>I am thinking . . . .</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Too much really. I am thinking about one of my sons who struggles with school. He is the sweetest boy ever and it breaks my heart that, when it comes to school, not much of it comes easy to him. Over the next few months, we will have to make some decisions about whether it is best for him to stay at the tutorial he attends or whether we should bring him back home for straight homeschooling next year. It would break his heart to come back home, as he is my social bug and he would miss the interaction with the other kids at the tutorial.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Facebook . . . I gave it up as a fast right before the election. I got back on after the election and I have realized something. I think it is toxic in so many ways. The political posts that are flying back and forth on both sides is stressful in many ways and is chatter that I do not need to see. I miss the days when most of what you saw on Facebook was simple pictures of friends' kids. Instead, it seems to have become a place where people sound off and are angry. The only thing that has brought some levity to FB seems to be the Biden Memes. I do not care who you voted for in the election . . . . those memes are funny! But, when all is said and done, I think it is time for me to step away from the crazy that is FB. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS9SzKfNHSaEoPKrejQDm2fqTC3pokEY8cUXy94D9fJpv1qk_0_3eBzPVXnF1H-CKboyRKGxCbUa2d1j7WySV2DS5bj9-JQwUrTG_fTKek1774wJb3LYytW632MCcpQ8An3FRiJKZkBd8/s1600/obama-wave-at-the-people-joe-biden-imma-point-atem-3155276.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS9SzKfNHSaEoPKrejQDm2fqTC3pokEY8cUXy94D9fJpv1qk_0_3eBzPVXnF1H-CKboyRKGxCbUa2d1j7WySV2DS5bj9-JQwUrTG_fTKek1774wJb3LYytW632MCcpQ8An3FRiJKZkBd8/s640/obama-wave-at-the-people-joe-biden-imma-point-atem-3155276.png" width="512" /></a></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">About Balance . .. . A friend once wrote on Facebook that balance is like a unicorn . . . you always search for it, but never quite find it. I think she is right. A few years ago, I would have laughed at that statement and said that balance was pretty simple . . . it just takes a lot of discipline. But, that was long before I had three kids under 3; all three still fairly new to this "living in a family with boundaries" thing. Now, no matter how hard I try, prayer times are squeezed in, runs are often left unrun, and dinner, well let's just say that I am so grateful for my Instapot, because we would be eating out more than our budget would allow! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> All of that is to say that I am working on learning to extend myself and our whole family a lot of grace. I truly believed that I should have had it all together already; Hope should be sleeping through the night; I should be back to my pre-pregnancy weight and in good shape; I should be able to be on top of all the boys' school work and everything else, and, of course, our house should be clean . . . but none of those are a reality right now. And I think that was all a part of God's plan in this. I am over 40 years old and I am finally learning to extend myself some grace . . ..</span><br />
<b style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: x-large;"><br /></b>
<b style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: x-large;"> I am listening to . . . </b><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Thomas playing on his LeapFrog alphabet computer.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfWmA4Uarr3VwTw3-ZIu-W88ABOT3izTlnD_-OOXHMJik0mVUZTAZRvswvbBAJoxz8Zm-cbdT09bwxFSn3vXShDqOpfa81obn5aa06_2kwcnFxIBbpMZqsM5AHwLXpvv2wKuNfd4YKjRk/s1600/allthingshopedfor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfWmA4Uarr3VwTw3-ZIu-W88ABOT3izTlnD_-OOXHMJik0mVUZTAZRvswvbBAJoxz8Zm-cbdT09bwxFSn3vXShDqOpfa81obn5aa06_2kwcnFxIBbpMZqsM5AHwLXpvv2wKuNfd4YKjRk/s320/allthingshopedfor.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I was hoping to be listening to <a href="http://michaelcorsini.com/" target="_blank">Michael Corsini's debut CD "All Things Hoped For.</a>" It is an CD for Advent and the song that I heard as a preview was BEAUTIFUL. The CD comes out digitally today! I am hoping to have a full review and giveaway of a CD when the CDs are available for sale in two weeks. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>I am making . . . </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju8rKL6RGTnz9ZrCqb3Iw3Ev7SFtS7KAtYL3TpoYdQOEYVjWGBlFE1FDiWC0PLTxSgG-RlddWVR99afJLz58YLYNxMjYTWKfJXaKzBJ6PuRbA83scUOL5K0teMqTfbVHhlYqIeo-BJMks/s1600/bracelets2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju8rKL6RGTnz9ZrCqb3Iw3Ev7SFtS7KAtYL3TpoYdQOEYVjWGBlFE1FDiWC0PLTxSgG-RlddWVR99afJLz58YLYNxMjYTWKfJXaKzBJ6PuRbA83scUOL5K0teMqTfbVHhlYqIeo-BJMks/s640/bracelets2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I am planning on making more bracelets that will be in the <a href="http://letusbeginshop.bigcartel.com/" target="_blank">"Let Us Begin" fundraiser shop</a>. I have some St. Andrew Novena bracelets that will be added. I am in love with Swarovski Crystal Pearl Beads right now and cannot wait to get a spare moment to make some more bracelets with those too. Making bracelets is very therapeutic and a great stress reliever for me. 15% of the sale of the bracelets will be donated Little Flower Projects.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>Speaking of . ..</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I have a shirt sale going on as a fundraiser for Little Flower Projects. It features one of my favorite quotes from Mother Teresa. If I get some time, I plan to write a post about my thoughts on Moher Teresa and this quote. But, for this moment, the shirts will be on sale (pre-order) until November 30 <a href="http://letusbeginshop.bigcartel.com/" target="_blank">here</a>. 100% of the proceeds of the shirts go to Little Flower Projects.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>From the school room . . .</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The boys are at their tutorial today. I am thankful that we only have one more day of school before Thanksgiving. I am looking forward to the break!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>I am praying. . . .</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">For my sister in love who is battling cancer and will start chemo soon.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">For a friend's son who just graduated from Coast Guard boot camp and will be headed to his first assignment after Thanksgiving.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">For our nation.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">For all orphans.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>Have a great week all!</b></span></div>
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<br />Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11571439982499787798noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7195442955424019204.post-87993941515614642752016-10-27T06:00:00.000-04:002016-10-27T06:00:07.050-04:00Two Years Ago . . . <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Two years ago today, I was on the other side of the world. I woke up too early. Too excited and anxious to sleep. My husband and I lay in bed, chatting about the day ahead of us. After years of hoping and praying, the day that felt like it would only ever be in my dreams, was finally here. It was really real. And when a dream comes true, and you are in awe of God changing hearts and moving mountains to bring you to a moment, there is little more to do than to pray and praise. And so, we moved our conversation from our hotel room to the Catholic Church across the street. Yes, in a land where so few have ANY belief system, God saw it fitting to place us in a hotel that just happened to be across from a Catholic Church. And so we knelt in the back, as the faithful in the front, finished what must have been the rosary, and prayed. We prayed our own silent prayers as our ears were filled with the melodious sound of a rhythmic prayer in Mandarin. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">As we crossed the street to head back to our hotel to eat breakfast, the reality truly hit. We were hours from holding her. Our daughter. I had envisioned this day for a long time. I knew how I wanted it to go, but also knew how it could go. We ate in silence. What do you say, when you are filled with all sorts of emotions, that you can barely comprehend it all yourself? And so we ate, then headed to our room to grab the diaper bag and the gifts for the staff and made our way to the lobby to meet our guide. When we got to the lobby, we met up with the other couple who was there to meet their son. Their faces felt like mirrors to me; like I was looking at myself. We were all feeling the same things . . . . even if we couldn't verbalize it. We waited for, what felt like an hour, for our guide. She entered the front door of the hotel, smiled warmly at us and ushered us out to the van to take us to the orphanage. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We were told that we were about 15 minutes away from the orphanage, so I remember being glued to the window at about 10 minutes into the drive. Maybe, just maybe, after the next turn, I would see the orphanage. When we finally pulled through the gate of the orphanage, my stomach was in knots. We were only many minutes away from our daughter now. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We were taken to a room upstairs and as we were ushered there, I tried to peer through the many doorways we passed . . . . was she in there? Was my daughter in THAT room? I remember sitting in that nice room, signing paper after paper. It was all in Mandarin and I had no idea what I was signing. I just remember I wanted to sign it all as fast as I could so we could get to HER!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjREF_dIIEZJLHw2b4wAlj7B4dYPitMp8YgyBSWHT4S90ADk74JgN3fMSGUvgOVQbN3J1hCHBQ8xecIUShq2B8l7CIwhl5iwDeZ2WbwwIFY8enG4CLY8xFlAW_BtnacfmVcYLMFl3yjOwQ/s1600/DSC_0006+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjREF_dIIEZJLHw2b4wAlj7B4dYPitMp8YgyBSWHT4S90ADk74JgN3fMSGUvgOVQbN3J1hCHBQ8xecIUShq2B8l7CIwhl5iwDeZ2WbwwIFY8enG4CLY8xFlAW_BtnacfmVcYLMFl3yjOwQ/s640/DSC_0006+-+Copy.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The paperwork done, our guide left the room. I am not really sure where I thought she went, I really was only thinking, "Why won't someone tell us when we will get our daughter!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And then footsteps in the hall . . . and our guide was back. Holding the sweetest little girl. Our little Felicity!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJH14OGlDnOVNxDYGrkZZiYigoZVGdKKSuN_VNUYwuKODlHFCPqbNskHlGE3Ej8QShxwM2qe4MTCN1dBs3ODCesiQNtH15zxqZnv2bGPqDiDAugKUm9DxhEvL5O_uiJS8JeqbGK1MX_TM/s1600/DSC_0012+%25282%2529+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJH14OGlDnOVNxDYGrkZZiYigoZVGdKKSuN_VNUYwuKODlHFCPqbNskHlGE3Ej8QShxwM2qe4MTCN1dBs3ODCesiQNtH15zxqZnv2bGPqDiDAugKUm9DxhEvL5O_uiJS8JeqbGK1MX_TM/s640/DSC_0012+%25282%2529+-+Copy.JPG" width="560" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And the tears that I thought would fill my eyes, never came. I held her and laughed!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbPwMGkNFPBuhRMiJy2syw8ulmbN1DjNgnYIJT5J7k3xjHgXbP7qQvmmr8kvlio5Ma0GRp2RmegBxH3q2HggnCtZ4BJMVNl6iCw2UaxNCs_FigaZATnTyQj9wGgkqgXywb6xiSSng7oDg/s1600/DSC_0025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbPwMGkNFPBuhRMiJy2syw8ulmbN1DjNgnYIJT5J7k3xjHgXbP7qQvmmr8kvlio5Ma0GRp2RmegBxH3q2HggnCtZ4BJMVNl6iCw2UaxNCs_FigaZATnTyQj9wGgkqgXywb6xiSSng7oDg/s640/DSC_0025.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I am in a bible study and we just studied Sarah and how she laughed when she heard a stranger tell Abraham that she would have a son. I have thought a lot about her laughter and mine too. There is a part of me that thinks some of Sarah's laughter was a burst of joy. The impossible being breathed. When she was faced with the possibility of a long held dream happening, maybe it was just a gut reaction. A laugh of awe at the goodness of God.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">That is what I felt in the moment. I held Felicity and I laughed that this moment, that I so desperately wanted for YEARS, was here. God had made it all happen.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I didn't cry as I expected. And neither did she. She fell asleep within 10 minutes of being in my arms. She snuggled into me, hid her head and slept. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsQewfrS7IdZ47tyMbtTCdn9_GJt-g9NouTFtM19a3ztUD01UY8j8WULR_FXl8TOAmMh1imYIPu008RRkMKt9Rk1YsnekMIGZ03nUw11OnIzpA2rTXDju_M6LMbkavG6HR62iWt22sXGE/s1600/DSC_0050.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsQewfrS7IdZ47tyMbtTCdn9_GJt-g9NouTFtM19a3ztUD01UY8j8WULR_FXl8TOAmMh1imYIPu008RRkMKt9Rk1YsnekMIGZ03nUw11OnIzpA2rTXDju_M6LMbkavG6HR62iWt22sXGE/s640/DSC_0050.JPG" width="424" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Looking back now, I recognize that this was partly because it may have been her nap time, but mostly because it was her way of dealing with the overwhelming and little-to-be-understood circumstances she was going through. A stranger (our guide) picked her up from her only home, and walked her away from it all to more strangers and handed her over. Felicity spent most of that day distant, quiet and sleeping.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik_JdeRNxLAHVQ-zQIopvra6PfP5TdLmCZ1pH1o5qZgju4wikS46ZJgE64UqrSTn1-cEpYSEHiCQ2o82ccgWGMwvbyWB2k08HVSmdvEZwVt1ydGHM8Z650cp67U_cqKkKt94cVF3q-WuA/s1600/DSC_0068.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik_JdeRNxLAHVQ-zQIopvra6PfP5TdLmCZ1pH1o5qZgju4wikS46ZJgE64UqrSTn1-cEpYSEHiCQ2o82ccgWGMwvbyWB2k08HVSmdvEZwVt1ydGHM8Z650cp67U_cqKkKt94cVF3q-WuA/s640/DSC_0068.JPG" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It would take days before we would get glimmers of her silliness and sassiness that we now love and adore so much.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQyiM3Xl0LvfS0Sqv9NHk3nxiwjytMFf6BR8R_nE7sp4UL8kf-FLo0xzO4Mk34S7X8cdd887gueWCA0H4UjUET1g5FbqSJrCdNJY_iFlXqsoC0bBTL-lyIz_rwTkCwosm3zNWIjogC258/s1600/felic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQyiM3Xl0LvfS0Sqv9NHk3nxiwjytMFf6BR8R_nE7sp4UL8kf-FLo0xzO4Mk34S7X8cdd887gueWCA0H4UjUET1g5FbqSJrCdNJY_iFlXqsoC0bBTL-lyIz_rwTkCwosm3zNWIjogC258/s640/felic.jpg" width="282" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We walked out of the orphanage that day with arms and hearts full . . .</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Three days later we walked back through the doors of the orphanage. Felicity would say good bye to all that she knew and we would get to see the place that she called home for 19 months of her life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">On that day, we were taken into the play room. I took my shoes off and walked up to only one child. A little boy in blue. I talked to him and he smiled at me. And now his story is ours too . . .</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9bWTtmvqxPjQH5JE74qDRqd2rEOLStzcD-MpqR8AKfARDCWQjBXH4ZLG5GPQO8X6Yn39HT0Sf02vPdN_rmthO4aO-k0GuEq8Nk-Wdals6KGme9VOmwW-W_xYkzab5Yf2O5bNd6Fy5Otg/s1600/thomas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9bWTtmvqxPjQH5JE74qDRqd2rEOLStzcD-MpqR8AKfARDCWQjBXH4ZLG5GPQO8X6Yn39HT0Sf02vPdN_rmthO4aO-k0GuEq8Nk-Wdals6KGme9VOmwW-W_xYkzab5Yf2O5bNd6Fy5Otg/s640/thomas.jpg" width="418" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">What is remarkable, is that he smiled at me. This little boy, Thomas, who I later came to learn, did not like strangers too much and usually shied away from them all, hiding in the protection of his nannies. But, he smiled at me that day; a stranger that was to become his mom. Only God.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOLb9wN-OrtuunrMDhFADc8lTkRujFtyIDEH93sMSD-QIyVCPWUArhfo1PjvckGcCEFdlPG6HWBQsmbKZayulguKAuy0sR1rWEtarLvTW3rH8ER8amQMNP1X4zZRJ_faoL3hS8d47dkB8/s1600/thomas3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOLb9wN-OrtuunrMDhFADc8lTkRujFtyIDEH93sMSD-QIyVCPWUArhfo1PjvckGcCEFdlPG6HWBQsmbKZayulguKAuy0sR1rWEtarLvTW3rH8ER8amQMNP1X4zZRJ_faoL3hS8d47dkB8/s640/thomas3.jpg" width="406" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And now, two years later, I write this post and the emotions come flooding back as if it were just days ago. The awe and wonder have not gone away; thanking God today on this Gotcha Day Anniversary! Happy family day my sweet daughter Felicity! And happy "first day I met you" Thomas! Love you both and praising the One who brought you to us!</span><br />
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Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11571439982499787798noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7195442955424019204.post-57061463425616881592016-07-20T12:41:00.000-04:002016-07-20T13:18:41.991-04:00Got Hope?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">She was born on a Tuesday during Primary season of the presidential election. Once settled into my room, I remember the TV being on and the news was all about secured presidential nominations. The following morning, I scrolled through my Facebook feed and there was a great deal of incredulity. Despair and hopelessness even. I quickly turned away from it and struggled to get out of the bed, to begin my c-section recovery. I had a precious little baby, Hope, to take care of after all. I couldn't get swept up in the emotions of the what is going on in our nation, in the upcoming election.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And since Hope's birth, there have been many crazy, hard to believe, tragic events. And during that time, my main focus has been on this precious life, on Hope. It has been amazing how focused I have been on Hope and my job as her mother.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I need to nurse Hope.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Help Hope grow. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Love Hope.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Nurture Hope.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Cuddle Hope.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I need to hold on to Hope.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">As I heard the news about the tragedy in Orlando, I was nursing Hope. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">When I prayed for all those affected by the tragedy in Dallas, I rocked Hope to sleep.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And as I watched the reports of the tragedy in Nice, France, I was holding on to Hope, cradling her in my arms. She began to coo. Hope was seeking my attention. I looked at her, she smiled at me. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Hope smiled as she so often does. She is such a sweet, happy baby. And in that moment, I knew what God was teaching me, having a child named Hope. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Hope.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Hope is a world changer. </span><br />
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">(Hope (upper-case H, Hope) has already changed ours and I frequently call her a world changer)</span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">My focus needs to be hope. There is much evil, but my focus as a Christian HAS to be hope. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #fdfeff; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i>"I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." John 16:33</i></span></span></blockquote>
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<span style="background-color: #fdfeff; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It is my responsibility to hold on to hope, to nurture it, to make it grow in this world. It is so, so easy to fall into despair, hopelessness. This world is full of hate and evil. Incomprehensible hate, brokenness and hurt. Yet, there is Hope. Hope is embodied in our home and the only way it will be embodied in our world, is if we nurture it, allow it to grow and hold tightly to it. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #fdfeff; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Over the last 11 weeks, Pete and I have often talked about how amazing it is to have a baby named Hope. How it changes us, in a way we never thought it would. Each day, Hope cries, pleads for our attention. There are times, when I am knee deep in parenting toddlers who have come from great loss and brokenness, weariness starts to creep in; and then Hope cries out. And I am snapped out of it. Hope needs me and in that moment I am reminded that there is always hope. Hope that needs to be nurtured and grow.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #fdfeff; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I am so thankful for Hope and hope that Christ gave so freely. I pray that I can help hope to grow in this world.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #fdfeff; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I need to be the instrument of hope in this world. Because if I do not let it grow, who will?</span></span></div>
Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11571439982499787798noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7195442955424019204.post-13218568745233957692016-06-23T17:13:00.000-04:002016-06-23T17:13:00.180-04:00Quick update<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">It has been a while since I have come here to update you all on life. Even friends in real life say they don't see me much (I don't leave the house that often) and many only get to see Thomas and Hope through photos on Facebook. I recognize that this is just our state in life right now. I knew, in a way, that this time would feel like we were on a high speed train and it truly does. The days are busy with playing with and reading to toddlers, nursing Hope and just staring at her when she is giving her smiles and coos, and conversing with our three oldest (and shuttling them to different activities). But, I am slowing things down for a moment to share a little in this space . . . </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Hope is 7 weeks old! She is only 7 weeks old, still so young, yet I already miss the tiny newborn stage. Last week, I had to put away all of the newborn clothes we had for her and switch it with 3 month clothes and I started to get all nostalgic for the teeny tiny newborn I had just a few weeks ago (I am weird, I know). I just love having a baby again. I love baby grunts, baby smiles and baby coos; which she has been happily supplying us with for a few weeks now. I love the way she scrunches up her body and face when you pick her up while she is sleeping. And I adore how all of her brothers and sister adore her too. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">We celebrated 4 months with Thomas just yesterday! That boy is just a tank of joy and we all are so smitten with him. He is adjusting well and seems to know we are his family. As time has passed and we have emerged from cocooning, we are seeing some issues come up here and there. Nothing that we are too concerned about, but we won't be making family trips to the pool or spending too much time in large social situations with our little man. In the mean time, we continue to spend lots of time at home, allowing him to grow into our family more and more.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV5578uB2cGHM3cQp_QGPcYmMOzjfsmTBxGy-cbrInFc8opxGn4WLNI621Z_l2YIXcDGzTtngEqwLAK5qn_a5_ed87Ua_WsmVsRzYQwqWHowevoV26mJflEwwBWMtzcHNelorJPR3hsOc/s1600/13315236_10154244434424521_5264573495753784198_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV5578uB2cGHM3cQp_QGPcYmMOzjfsmTBxGy-cbrInFc8opxGn4WLNI621Z_l2YIXcDGzTtngEqwLAK5qn_a5_ed87Ua_WsmVsRzYQwqWHowevoV26mJflEwwBWMtzcHNelorJPR3hsOc/s400/13315236_10154244434424521_5264573495753784198_n.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju9O0Obt-2vD9_2BjMhdaIY25rkC7ZZnHZ8umTsfmaAkjbSOlVrpPECao7oaMlhnVSqy-enBrkVxy8hW3IiT7A-uzhMnlDBgE1KTpe7e4Didil0L7HdzbjE85gM-W5IHDFnfGf9lpKH2g/s1600/bap9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju9O0Obt-2vD9_2BjMhdaIY25rkC7ZZnHZ8umTsfmaAkjbSOlVrpPECao7oaMlhnVSqy-enBrkVxy8hW3IiT7A-uzhMnlDBgE1KTpe7e4Didil0L7HdzbjE85gM-W5IHDFnfGf9lpKH2g/s400/bap9.jpg" width="397" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">At the beginning of the month we baptized Hope and Thomas. We had a triple baptism with Thomas' God parents who had a baby girl just weeks before Hope was born. I could not wait for the day. It was beautiful and so special After having such a rough road in bringing theses two souls into our family, I was so ready to witness them come into our church family. I had two favorite moments of the day. The first was the moment I first saw Thomas in his baptismal outfit. Pete had gotten him dressed in the hall next to the chapel while I had gone to the car to get something. I closed up the car,turned around, and there was my son in his white Chinese outfit, ready for his special day. Seeing him, ready to be baptized, looking so so handsome, made me cry with joy. I scooped him up and held him, thanking God for the promise of this life coming into our family. My favorite part of the baptism was probably not what you would think . . . .it was the moment when our pastor asked is "What <i><b>names</b></i> have you given your children?" There was something so amazing about hearing "<b><i>names</i></b>." Plural. More than one. BOTH my children, long prayed for, long hoped for, were in our family, in our arms. In that moment, I was in awe of the mercy of our God who allowed for the day to come; for these gifts given. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I am doing well. There is lots of hard and I am working to get used to it all. I think I am handling all the adjustments fairly well. I wish I had more time to spend with each child, individually, but, I know this is just a season. I am working to embrace the constant laundry and dishes that need to be done, and the mess of toys that is so frequently found on my floors. I often feel bad that I am not getting my kids to more activities, sports, library story times, etc, but it is good that I am not too. It is teaching me that the most important moments in parenting aren't the activities you have your kids in, trips you take them on, or gifts you give them, but it is your presence. It is rubbing your toddler son's back as he falls asleep. It is sitting in your almost teen son's bedroom, chatting about his day. It the smiles and laughs shared. Those are the things that matter most. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">This time also feels very lonely at times too. As mentioned before, I stay home A LOT. The longer Thomas has been home, the more I realize that I cannot be as attentive to his needs as I need to be if we are in social situations. Most people probably wouldn't even notice the subtle changes in his behavior etc, that I see, but I do see them and I know that he needs more time separated from social situations, than I need to be out of this house, so we stay home. We take cocooning very seriously. We know this time is precious and so needed and so we sacrifice to do what is best for this precious boy. I try to remember that on the days that I just want to be at the pool, chatting with friends. And all I need to do is look at Thomas for more than a second, and I melt. Yep, totally worth it!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">So, this blog may be really quiet for a while, as lots of life happens on the other side of the computer screen. But, I will try to update it every so often. </span></div>
Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11571439982499787798noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7195442955424019204.post-56993443284437998772016-05-11T06:00:00.000-04:002016-05-11T06:00:14.791-04:00Hope's Birth Story<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">When it comes to birth stories, most women do not write up, nor do I think they want to read about, scheduled c-sections. But, I want to remember the day and if I do not write it here to publish, it is unlikely that I will sit down for my own sake, and write, so bear with me as I recount the day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">As with most scheduled, repeat c-sections, the date was scheduled months in advanced. I knew that Hope would arrive on May 3 unless she decided to surprise us and my body would decide to go into labor for the first time ever. Although I am older and anything is possible, I thought it highly unlikely, so I was not too worried that she would be born any sooner that May 3rd. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The hospital that I deliver at has started something called the "<a href="http://www.whatsupmag.com/2015/08/18/83048/special-delivery-aamc-leads-with-new-family-centered-c-sections" target="_blank">Family Centered C-Section.</a>" If you are having a scheduled, routine, c-section, you can elect to have a family centered c-section. Basically, they allow you to have some of the experiences that you miss in a c-section that you have in a natural birth. Instead of the baby being whisked away, out of the OR right after birth, the baby is given to the mom to hold giving the baby the all important skin-to-skin contact. If desired, you can request a clear surgical drape so that you can see the birth of the baby. And, your husband can cut the umbilical cord. Although I did not elect to have a clear drape (let's be honest, I wanted to see Hope being born, but really did not want to see myself cut open . . . Pete was able to take photos of it all and they are NOT for the squeamish), I did want to be able to experience some of the things that I longed for in the birth of my sons' but never experienced. So, we planned for a family centered birth and I just hoped that I would not go into labor early to thwart my plans.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">On the Saturday before the scheduled c-section (and the day before Andrew's First Communion) I woke up to contractions. They were inconsistent, but coming with a frequency that made me uneasy. I timed them and began to GUZZLE water (since dehydration can cause contractions). Thankfully, by mid afternoon, the contractions had slowed and were infrequent, but they continued on through the next two days. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">My c-section was scheduled for 10:30 AM on Tuesday, so we headed to the hospital bright and early in the morning. Once checked in, we were greeted by our pre-op nurse, who took us to our pre-op room. Time seemed to fly by. She got me ready for the c-section. My OB came in. We met with the anesthesiologist and before we knew it, our OB was saying that it was time to head back to the OR. I was pretty calm at this point. Our pre-op nurse (who would be with us during the whole c-section), my OB, and the anesthesiologist were incredible. They were friendly, sweet, and kind and put me at ease. Our pre-op nurse said, "Let's get this birthday party started!" as we walked down to the OR.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Once in the OR, they prepped me for the spinal. It is the thing I have been the most nervous about in all my c-sections. It is also the thing that, mentally, I tell myself, if I can get through the spinal, the rest will be ok. The spinal was completed without any problems and before I knew it, I was laying down, with very numb legs. All of the nurses, my OB and the assisting OB began to move around in a flurry of activity. Yet, during all of this one or more of the staff continued to talk to me and ask me questions. The anesthesiologist asked me about how many "babies" I had had. That naturally led into a conversation about our kids and adoption. My OB chimed in that she was adopted and thought adoption was just the best. Her parents had 5 biological children and then adopted her and one of her sisters as well. Then, the music came on. Our nurse had asked me what music I would like in the OR and she put on contemporary christian music. This is Amazing Grace by Phil Wickman filled the OR. One of the nurses began to sing and my OB thought it was me signing. She said that would have been a first! To be honest, at that moment, I was so calm and at peace that I could have been singing at that moment. I am not sure if it was because of all of the prayers of others, all we had been through to get to this day, or the incredible people I was surrounded by who were taking care of me or the perfect combination of all of it, but I truly was so peaceful about this c-section and birth; more than I had ever been with my other children. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Before I knew it, my OB told Pete to get the camera ready, Hope was about to be born. I could feel the tugs. Pete said, "I see her. She's beautiful!" I can still see the excitement and joy on his face. And then I could hear her scream. I started to cry a little and just could not wait to see her and hold her. One of the nurses asked me if I minded if they cleaned her up just a bit before they gave her to me, and I was fine with that. Only moments passed, and they brought her over to me and they placed her on my chest. Hope had been screaming the whole time, but the minute she was placed on my chest, she just stopped and was so content. It was such a gift to be able to hold her right away. My boys had been brought to me bundled in a towel and I was able to look at them for a moment before the nurses took them out of the OR and to the recovery room, with Pete following. And with each of those three c-sections, I was left alone while the OB finished up. This time,I got to hold Hope until my OB had finished, Pete by my side. The time went quickly as Pete and I just gazed at our beautiful little daughter and chatted. Before I knew it, they took down the surgical drape, my OB came to talk to Pete and I and then the three of us (Pete, Hope and I) headed to recovery.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">That was a week ago today. And this has been, by far, my best and easiest c-section recovery. The irony of that is not lost on me. Just a few months ago I thought I might be having a <a href="http://blessedwithfullhands.blogspot.com/2016/01/her-name-my-word-for-2016-and.html" target="_blank">high risk c-section delivery</a>, and instead I had the best c-section experience with recovery of all four. I could not have hoped for a better birth experience with Hope and recovery since. I am grateful for all of the prayers over the last several months and for the amazing staff at AAMC who made the day so memorable and special.</span><br />
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<br />Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11571439982499787798noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7195442955424019204.post-27890993215684393182016-04-13T13:47:00.002-04:002016-04-13T16:49:48.274-04:0040 days as a family of 7 and 20 days to a family of 8<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Easter Sunday 2016 - Family of 7 and as close to a baby bump photo you will get</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">40 days ago, Pete, Joshua and Thomas came home from China. If you have not seen our video on Facebook, take a minute to watch it here. I am biased, but I cry watching it. EVERY. SINGLE.TIME. It, and all the photographs were taken by <a href="http://nicoleinbold.com/" target="_blank">Nicoleinbold, LLC</a>, an amazingly talented photographer I found through <a href="http://www.redthreadsessions.com/" target="_blank">Red Thread Sessions</a>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://vimeo.com/159972551">Thomas's US Gotcha Day</a> from <a href="https://vimeo.com/nicoleinbold">Nicole Burmeister</a> on <a href="https://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Right now, a mini miracle is occurring in our home . . . . both toddlers are napping! So, I am going to attempt to write this post and hit "publish" before either wakes up!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b>So, let's just get to the details, shall we? </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Things are going well. Thomas is adjusting very well and I seriously cannot imagine life without him. He has been attaching to me well (and to Pete too, of course) and we have seen improvements in his interactions with strangers over the last month. He is a super sweet little boy and we all adore him. His smile melts me, but all of my boys have been able to charm me with a sweet smile. Although things are going well, please do not read that as "this is easy." We are living the HARD right now. Good and beautiful, but hard. And there are moments that I do not think it would seem so hard if I weren't just so big and pregnant. Felicity has "battle scars" from her dear brother. The toddlers can create more mess than I ever knew possible. Getting Thomas to nap when Felicity no longer naps, but just HAS to be in the room when I put her brother down for his nap has taught me a whole new level of patience I did not know exists. After I dropped my boys off at their tutorial this morning, I went to daily mass with the toddlers, for the first time since Thomas came home. It was 9AM when mass was over and I officially considered the day highly successful.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwZ_qTK3xFaFNFDfyA0AgeFKIcUVzPcrp3D5Khr53tpM5Xc7NdUCA61aERtMZZN2X9hhxaqIciJc6Mq-hd2OAKixHnF6NYuxQLAvcKD3o5LhDp3TNQF4GDg5Sv4jx1U-_zJaR_KCty7A0/s1600/tjandjoshua.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="531" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwZ_qTK3xFaFNFDfyA0AgeFKIcUVzPcrp3D5Khr53tpM5Xc7NdUCA61aERtMZZN2X9hhxaqIciJc6Mq-hd2OAKixHnF6NYuxQLAvcKD3o5LhDp3TNQF4GDg5Sv4jx1U-_zJaR_KCty7A0/s640/tjandjoshua.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Thomas has been through all of his doctor's appointments and is doing so well! Since he has a heart condition, we were very concerned about his cardiologist appointment, but after his echo, the doctor declared that his surgery in China was beautifully done and that he is HEALTHY! Thomas will only need yearly appointments at this time! </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7hRBzSHNjJXxDciYctikPp_1Auo9Dj2F892oOXKq0M7vsP_ZkLfNuRj7ig1qtZFQss5_NuVomb6T3AC3owhrejvlEsnNSXqt9m61iBF19vsuQH0hl0B7Y3WnevEuRFewkPAblG8wzvxU/s1600/echo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7hRBzSHNjJXxDciYctikPp_1Auo9Dj2F892oOXKq0M7vsP_ZkLfNuRj7ig1qtZFQss5_NuVomb6T3AC3owhrejvlEsnNSXqt9m61iBF19vsuQH0hl0B7Y3WnevEuRFewkPAblG8wzvxU/s400/echo.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the cardiologist, waiting for his echo, and showing off his CHD warrior scar</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">This week marks the 36th week of pregnancy for me. I am BIG and probably look continually tired. I get insomnia in my third trimester, so there are nights I sleep very little. While I know adding a newborn to the mix will be challenging, I often think it will be easier than right now . . . . we will see. We are officially 20 days away from baby Hope's arrival. I have to have a scheduled c-section, so we know the date and approximate time of her arrival already. The crib is up, car seats are set, and my hospital bag is almost completely ready to go. A sitter for the toddlers is lined up and as of right now, we have not scared her off yet! I know the next few weeks will fly by and before we know it baby Hope will be in our arms. I have not spent much time getting excited about her arrival. Really, I am so busy with the "now" that it is hard to even think about what is to come. But last week a friend gave birth to her baby boy and as I saw the updates and photos over two days, I began to get excited about having a newborn again. It has been so long that I wonder if it will feel new again, or if it like riding a bicycle; that it will all just come back to me once she is in my arms??? </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">A grainy phone photo, but it shows the pure joy for this crazy life!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">So that is what is going on in our little corner of the world. Other than the details, I have to say that I am often left with this overwhelming sense of awe at all that God has done. Each day I look at Thomas, I am profoundly grateful and amazed at how God brought him into our family; from that day I played with him in the orphanage, to the mountains moved during the adoption process to bring him into our family and at the timing of it all, I am simply in awe. This morning, I was pondering it all and I looked at our little man and said, "God must have known we needed you." Yes, Thomas needs us too, but there must be something about him with us that is just right. I have so many thoughts on this whole subject and how it has left me changed in a different way than how Felicity's adoption impacted me, but those thoughts and feelings are to be written another day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">For now, I know, that to so many, our lives may seem chaotic and our decision to add more family members through adoption just a little bit crazy. And there are days that it truly is. But, I can say that our hearts are bursting with love and joy more than ever before. To see my three boys light up when they see Felicity or Thomas? <i>Oh, pure joy.</i> To see Pete play and hold these two silly toddlers? <i>Pure joy</i>. To have Thomas wake up in the middle of the night and say, "Mommy?" and then immediately fall back to sleep when I simply say the words, "I am here Thomas."? . . . . <i>joy</i>. To see Thomas and Felicity pat my belly and wave "Hi" to baby Hope . . . . <i>oh, yes, pure joy</i>. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">So, we may seem a bit tired and haggard some days, but we "<i>consider it all joy</i>." </span><br />
<br />Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11571439982499787798noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7195442955424019204.post-61982135446431448042016-03-14T17:30:00.000-04:002016-03-14T22:01:37.580-04:00All things Thomas and how things are going (really) after a week home<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I have had to change the title of this post already. I had grand plans to post days ago, but, you know, life with a new one is happening right now and I am at the mercy of his plans (really, HIS plans). I have not written much since Thomas came home last week. If you are on Facebook or Instagram, you will recognize most of these photos, as my phone is pretty much the only camera that comes out lately. Yet, I wanted to take a moment to update everyone on how things are going right now and answer some things you may be wondering about.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Overall, we are all doing well. Life seems so natural with Thomas in the house and I am really proud of how all of the kids are adjusting to having another toddler in the house.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz14ktPrHXuJPwAKgL9kPEbqzItM0dhTHrxOzQQDT9_dtXLGh2vwE2iydnix72ILYXXedBzVcgj_PWrskqhZ9UCqEWFw1v0rpo0hGs25LXsmUnBp3VSYpUV64RMvFXyRqMKCQVkILJpMs/s1600/TJHOME.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz14ktPrHXuJPwAKgL9kPEbqzItM0dhTHrxOzQQDT9_dtXLGh2vwE2iydnix72ILYXXedBzVcgj_PWrskqhZ9UCqEWFw1v0rpo0hGs25LXsmUnBp3VSYpUV64RMvFXyRqMKCQVkILJpMs/s640/TJHOME.jpg" width="460" /></span></a></div>
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<b><i><u><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Just a few things about our boy:</span></u></i></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">- He is a super, cute, chunky little thing. He is much shorter than Felicity, but has the most adorable chubby belly.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">- He has a charming smile. Too charming, really. He will often use that charming smile to get out of trouble. So far, we are resisting his charms.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">- He has the softest skin of any of my children. It is butter soft and I cannot help but rub his cute little cheeks whenever I get a chance. Pete said that the guides in China would comment on how great his skin is and now, I can understand why.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">- He is all boy and combined with some bad behaviors learned at the orphanage, he can be a handful. But, not too much of a handful that we cannot work though it all.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">- He is picking up English words here and there and his receptive language is great.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">- He is very social. Which is nice, but, in the long run, will make our cocooning phase longer and attachment more of a challenge.</span><br />
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<b><u><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Speaking of attachment:</span></i></u></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">- After a rough start with Pete (Thomas was deathly afraid of men), he warmed up to Pete very well in country. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">- He was very scared of me when he first came home. Pete had important meetings at work just two days after coming home from China, so Thomas had to get used to me quickly. By the third day, he had seemed to warm up to me. He allows me to cuddle him and rock him to sleep. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">- He loves his brothers, and honestly, prefers them to anyone else. This, again, can be a challenge, but the boys have been so great about letting Pete and I take the lead in the care of Thomas, so as to firmly establish us as the care givers and those Thomas should seek first.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">- I adore the little boy. He had my heart before he even came home and that has not changed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">While, the first week has gone well, we have a LONG way to go. The process of attachment is often 2 steps forward, one step back, or sometimes just a crawl. It has been hard not to compare him to Felicity and where she is at now, but she has been home 18 months and grown in so many ways and we know that we will look back a year from now and see a lot growth in our relationship with Thomas too.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY9Hri9KOpzA7vffqDA29tZAya8mI5Theg1XbM3SSpGqqDYoBg2xQSTS5Ws5KcAlRDOEEDMLBO-f9gi1MKD_Sxh8qxgoXxw8kIH-R0hY0GURcFS08XhO1j_TGvJo2hmCnK-c1St5_v9Ak/s1600/thetoddlers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="537" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY9Hri9KOpzA7vffqDA29tZAya8mI5Theg1XbM3SSpGqqDYoBg2xQSTS5Ws5KcAlRDOEEDMLBO-f9gi1MKD_Sxh8qxgoXxw8kIH-R0hY0GURcFS08XhO1j_TGvJo2hmCnK-c1St5_v9Ak/s640/thetoddlers.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<b><i><u><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Felicity and Thomas:</span></u></i></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">These two are now affectionately named "The Toddlers." And, as you would expect from any two toddlers, they can get along beautifully one moment, and then not-so-beautifully the next. We were very concerned about Felicity's adjustment to Thomas and she is far surpassing our expectations. She has been doing well overall and I have been so impressed with her ability to adjust. Thomas and Felicity are just 7 months apart in age, but right now, developmentally, they seem about 18 months apart. At this moment, it is a great thing because it is helping to establish Felicity as the older sister. She has become a mini-mom in many ways and is amazing at grabbing diapers and wipes when I need them for Thomas. I barely get the words "sippy cup" out of my mouth and she is on her way to get his sippy cup so that I may give it to Thomas. While, Thomas may prefer his brothers, I really think these two will become very close over the years.</span><br />
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<b><i><u><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Sleep:</span></u></i></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">How would you guess sleep is going in a house with one toddler still slightly on China time, one toddler adjusting to having a toddler brother, two other family members overcoming jet leg and a 32 week pregnant woman?? If you can imagine all of those scenarios under the same roof, you can imagine just how sleep is happening, or not happening, in our house. Melatonin has become our friend to help regulate Thomas' and Felicity's sleep. And, as long as I can avoid having to sleep on the floor, next to my toddler daughter, I can get sufficient enough sleep to get me through (yes, at 32 weeks pregnant, I have had to sleep on the floor! I do not recommend it).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">These early days of melding Thomas into our family are not easy. And since this is not our first time at this, we did not expect it to be easy. Add being pregnant onto it all and it does complicate things. But, in so many ways, this feels so much easier than last time. Even admist the craziness, there is much joy. I was changing diapers and getting "The Toddlers" ready for bed one night and Pete looked at me and said, <i>"You are happy, aren't you?"</i> Yes. Yes, I am very happy. Even though I am tried and my body is just not able to move the way it did just weeks ago, I am very happy. Adding a two year old, full of energy, to the mix, and yes I am still happy. I am sleep deprived, and I am still happy. And I think that it all stems from an excessive amount of grace. Grace that comes when you are walking the path that God wants you on.. Even though it may be hard and challenging, there is still an incredible amount of joy that comes with it. Joy in knowing that we are getting a little glimpse of God's love through this whole process. Joy in knowing that there is one less orphan in the world and that a son is HOME.</span><br />
<br />Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11571439982499787798noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7195442955424019204.post-67587779795672513312016-02-11T14:49:00.000-05:002016-02-11T15:17:04.354-05:00An update: The train is pulling out of the station<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">As 2016 approached, my anxiety of all that was to come this year began to increase. Anytime I thought about it, I felt like we were headed for a journey on a high speed train. And once we boarded, we would be whisked away on a crazy, amazing, and tiring journey that would be full adventure.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And as of last week Friday, I can say that we have boarded that train and it is beginning to pull out of the station . . .</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">If you are in our private adoption group on Facebook, you know the full details, but to share quickly, God moved some more mountains on this adoption journey and February travel, which once looked impossible, is happening!! Last week we received Travel Approval and our Consulate appointment and our sweet Thomas will be placed in Pete's arms on February 22nd!! Since this was hoped for, but totally unexpected, we are not totally prepared and this week before travel will be filled with last minute packing, trips to Target and getting every last piece of paperwork in perfect order to make the trip as smooth as possible.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I am 28 weeks pregnant and although I did get clearance from my OB to go, I am staying home. I do not think the reality of that has hit me totally yet and I am not sure just how I will be when I am saying good bye to Pete at the airport, knowing that I will not be there on Gotcha day or the days following to bond with Thomas. I am not one to listen to others' concerns too closely and so the myriad of family members who mentioned that I absolutely should not go, really did not deter me. Honestly, Saturday night I was pretty convinced that I should go and be there. I prayed that God would give me clear direction. Then on Monday, at the end of mass the priest was mentioning about the possibility of no public mass due to weather on Tuesday and he said something which stuck with me. He said that sometimes prudence is the better side of valor. And I realized that I needed to be a bit more prudent about the whole trip. I am on the cusp of my third trimester. We would have to take Felicity back to the same orphanage that she herself came from, and so I would not be only dealing with one grieving toddler (Thomas) but I could also be dealing with one very confused, scared, and traumatized toddler (Felicity). And,oh, yes, I would be doing so while very, very, very pregnant. So I am staying home.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Thomas will be HOME, on March 4th. We will begin cocooning him and working to help him feel a part of our family. And then on May 3rd, Hope will be born via c-section. As we enter this time, <b><i>I ask that you pray for our family in some, very specific ways:</i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b>1) Pray for the finances to come through for our adoption</b>. Any moment now, we should be receiving the final bill and cost list from our agency. Within days will we owe approximately $12,000 for our travel expenses, in-country fees, etc, etc. We did not receive ANY of the grants that we had applied for, so every penny that is due will need to come from us. We have a <a href="https://www.youcaring.com/katie-murphy-409862" target="_blank">YouCaring page</a> where we can receive donations and I keep track, on there, of every penny given to us even outside of the page, but here is the thing:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I am not really sure we should ask for donations. As much as I want our adoption to be fully funded. As much as I am grateful for every donation that is given to us, there is just too much want and need in our world for me to feel that our need is more necessary than another. There are families abandoning their children because they cannot afford their medical care and feel that the only way to save their child's life is to abandon him/her. These families need our help. There are children dying because of starvation or inadequate water sources. These children need our help.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">One of my biggest questions and fears going into this adoption was <i>"How in the world would we pay for it?"</i> And after all that we have been through on this journey, I feel like that one lesson I have come to learn is that there are worse things that could happen than going into debt for this adoption (sorry Dave Ramsey). After getting our second grant rejection letter, my first thought was, "It is ok, Thomas is worth the debt." There are many things in life that are not worth the debt; a bigger house, a new car, the latest gadgets. <i>But Thomas?</i> Oh, yes, he, he IS worth it. And we will survive with it. We will pay it off and be ok. And Thomas will be with his family and an orphan no more. <i>Totally worth it.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">So, if you feel led and only if you feel led, you can donate to our adoption at our <a href="https://www.youcaring.com/katie-murphy-409862" target="_blank">YouCaring Site here</a>. But again, only if you feel led.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I am also still selling these <a href="http://bringtjhome.bigcartel.com/products" target="_blank">beautiful bracelets</a> I made in honor of Congenital Heart Defect Awareness Month. The proceeds will be split between our adoption and <a href="http://morningstarproject.org/" target="_blank">Morning Star Foundation</a> that cares for orphans with significant heart defects and helps families to pay for their child's heart surgeries so that families may not feel that their only option is to orphan their child. You can purchase it <a href="http://bringtjhome.bigcartel.com/products" target="_blank">here</a>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">But, mostly, just pray for us. That God provides in the way He wants to.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b>2) Pray for Pete and Joshua's travel in China.</b> Pray they do not get sick. Pray they remember NOT to drink the water :-)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b>3) Pray for me while they are in China.</b> Pray I am able to get everything done that needs to get done for Thomas' arrival and for Hope's arrival. I want the time between Thomas' homecoming and Hope's birth to be unencumbered by extra chores and to-do lists. I want that time to be about Thomas and family. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b>4) Pray for Thomas</b>, especially as he transitions to our family. Pray his attachment goes well. Pray for our time of cocooning him before Hope is born. It is a special time, but can often feel very isolating. It is a time when our child is put before all other relationships with other people. I know sometimes it is hard for people outside our immediate family to understand why we pull back from everything, but Thomas and his adjustment is our priority during this time. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Thank you all for being a part of our journey! We are so appreciative of you all!</span><br />
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<br />Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11571439982499787798noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7195442955424019204.post-66629528449524970802016-01-13T06:00:00.000-05:002016-01-13T06:00:11.032-05:00Her name, my word for 2016, and an ultrasound picture too!<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I had thought of writing two separate posts. One about our daughter's name and one about my word for the year, but really the two go together and I cannot tell the story of one, without the other. And so, I will unravel both together. I wish I could write a nice,short, succinct post about each, but in order to truly understand how God brought about our daughter's name and the word for the year, I need to give you more details about what had gone on in our lives since that early September day when I found out I was pregnant. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I know I had shared how worried I was that our newest development would affect, or totally stop our adoption. After I had told my husband that we were expecting, we quickly discussed that we would wait until I was around 12 weeks pregnant to tell anyone, including our adoption agency. Since I am older, and the risk of miscarriage is higher, we saw no reason to alert our adoption agency too early. Yet, after a day of worrying and crying (on my part), Pete suggested we call our social worker. So, our social worker was the very first person to learn our news. She quickly tried to alleviate some of my fears and mentioned she would tell the head of the China program. But, they saw no real reason why we would have to stop the adoption process. That was until they spoke to our home study agency and learned that our home study agency had a policy against adopting while pregnant. We were never made aware of this policy nor did we sign anything that stated we agreed to the policy, yet our placement agency wanted to honor the policies of our home study agency. At first we were told that we would have a meeting with the director of the home study agency to discuss our situation once I had my first OB appointment. My first OB appointment came. I emailed our social workers to tell them. Days later I get an email from our home study director stating that she was so happy for our pregnancy and that all looks good, and they have a policy against adopting while pregnant and so we would need to stop the adoption until the baby was 6 months old. We would lose our son Thomas. Over the next few weeks, the two agencies went back and forth about our adoption. While our home study agency could not really stop the adoption, our placement agency wanted to keep good relations with them, and so lots of agency politics ensued. We prayed. We asked friends to pray. And we waited for final word. Then one day another email came. It was from the director of our home study agency. Although she was still against the adoption (because it was policy), she would allow it to continue. At that moment, I was so relieved. Although I have not shared all of the details here, know that that email, that permission was truly a miracle. Hearts had been changed and mountains moved. Our Thomas was coming home!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Over the months of that fight, God was trying to teach me many things. He reminded me that even before we started this adoption process, he was calling me to a deeper sense of trust. There were moments over those weeks, that I wanted to call our placement agency and FIGHT for Thomas. Yet, I didn't. I felt like God was calling me to trust Him and that my weapon, was prayer; not my own words shared with social workers and directors, but words lifted up to Him. Trust, Katie. Just trust. <b><i>Trust and Hope.</i></b> And those two words became words I clung to. Even as I pondered the life inside of me, there were moments, early on, I thought this baby is Hope. I am not even sure why. But, I just did. Maybe it was because I had to cling to hope. I truly thought I was going to lose one of my children (Thomas or the baby) due to all that we were going through. And the only thing I had was to cling to the Hope that God was going to work it all out. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And after the email, on the Feast of St John Paul II, the day after Thomas' birthday, I really thought God had worked it all out. TJ would be coming home. We would be having a baby. I was getting excited about all that was to come.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">About 5 days after the email came, I had a 12 week ultrasound. When you are of "advanced maternal age" they suggest early ultrasounds and genetic testing to see how the baby is doing. Since we were also in the middle of the adoption, I welcomed as much information as possible, so that we could be prepared for all that may come. Thankfully, the baby looked great. The Dr stated that the baby looked healthy and he saw no reason for concern for genetic disorders. But, then he stopped. And he shared that based on what he was seeing on the ultrasound, that I was developing placenta accreta. While many of you may not know what placenta accreta is, I was well aware of what it was and the possible, serious and life threatening consequences of it. In all honesty, it was the one thing that scared me more than anything else. The Dr rattled on about a scheduled high risk c-section no later than 36 weeks, a specialized team in the OR at the birth, banked blood in case of excessive blood loss. He said, "Oh, and I hope you do not want any more children, because you will probably have to have a hysterectomy" (It reduces the mortality rate). He did follow all of it up with the fact that he would not know for sure until the 20 week ultrasound. I left the ultrasound room, and noticed my hands were trembling. I made it to the car before the tears started to flow. If I had placenta accreta, it would affect everything; the adoption, our family, everything. I tried to remain positive, but it was hard. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I knew I had 8 weeks before I would know, for sure, how we would need to proceed. I prayed. Seriously, I think I prayed every power house saint novena I could think of; St. Philomena, St Rita, St Jude, Our Lady Undoer of Knots, Infant of Prague, (and the list went on). There were days, I just stopped teaching my kids and went up to my bedroom, crying and, pleading with God for this all to change. I just wanted to bring my son home from China, I just wanted to be happy about the life growing inside of me. I wanted a healthy birth. I talked to priests, and went to a healing prayer holy hour. And God's message to me, wasn't one of "Don't worry Katie, I will heal you, it will be perfect." It was "I love you Katie." A priest, during confession, told me I needed to find Hope in all of this. I needed to trust. There were those words again. <b><i>Trust. Hope.</i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">It was during this time too, that we found out we were having a girl. We had always wanted to name a girl Elizabeth after Elizabeth, the mother of John the Baptist. But , for some reason, when I thought of the name, it was not followed with a resounding "yes!" in my mind and heart. But, there was continually this whisper of the word, of the name, Hope. I shared it with Pete and he wasn't too thrilled with the name. But, I kept coming back to it. We even found a St. Hope. One First Friday, we went to mass as a family. Pete declared that we should pray about a name for our girl. Hope was mentioned in the first reading twice. The word Hope seemed to surround us, although, we were in Advent at this point, the season of expectant Hope, so it was not too much of a surprise. But, I was pretty sure Hope was our daughter's name.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Then on December 14th, I had my ultrasound appointment. The week leading up to it was difficult. I began counting down the days, knowing that that ultrasound could change our adoption plans, the rest of my pregnancy, and even my own life. <b><i>Trust and Hope.</i></b> Trust and hope. So, I went into the ultrasound hopeful, but scared. As we sat in the waiting room, Pete said, "There's our daughter's name. It's the sign we've been looking for," as he pointed to the wall before us. And there it was, truly a sign. A big metal sign above the receptionist's desk. Four simple letters: H-O-P-E. I laughed as I looked at Pete. I guess we did have our daughter's name. And a gentle reminder too; to keep on hoping.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The ultrasound seemed to go well. The tech went through every organ system of our daughter. All looked good. Then she got to the placenta. She checked it's blood flow. The tech said nothing. No "it looks good" as she did with most everything else. Then she was done. She left us in the room to get the doctor. I am not sure how long it took for her to come back with the doctor, but it felt like forever. I braced myelf to hear the worst. The doctor came in and did a quick ultrasound check himself. He proclaimed that our daughter looked absolutely perfect. Then, he got a smile on his face and paused. "I see no signs of accreta. Nor based on what I see today, do I think you will develop it." I let out a big sigh. It felt like I had been holding my breath since that day in September when we found out we were pregnant, and this day, with those words from the doctor, I was finally able to really breathe again. Tears streamed down my cheeks. Pete laughed and told the doctor that he had been the cause of a lot of anxiety over the last few weeks. And we just smiled.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">In the car ride home, Pete asked me, "What do you think God was trying to teach you through all of this?" In that moment, I did not have a well formulated answer. I wondered myself, why? Why did we have to go through all of the stress, the wondering, when it all worked out as we had hoped. Thomas was coming home. And, as of right now, it looks like I will have a healthy, uncomplicated pregnancy. And, I think, it goes back to Trust. The one thing God was asking of me at the beginning of this adoption process. The one thing I clearly need to grow in. <b><i>And so, my word for this year is TRUST.</i></b> I want to grow in my trust of the Lord, that no matter what may come, I will not be shaken in knowing that He is taking care of it all. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">As you know, already, if you have read all my ramblings, our daughter's name is Hope. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I will end this post as I have my other name posts, with a "photo" of our girl. </span><br />
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<b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Hope Elizabeth Murphy</span></i></b></div>
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Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11571439982499787798noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7195442955424019204.post-57880171977068039702015-12-07T10:50:00.002-05:002015-12-07T10:50:31.472-05:00Why we are "still" adopting<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Since announcing my pregnancy, there have been many questions that I thought could come, and I had prepared answers to these, ready to give a well thought out answer. Thankfully, no one was so bold or curious as to ask. Yet still, in case anyone is wondering, I thought I would answer one question. <b><i>Why are you still adopting? </i></b>Some people did come close to asking. Or, at least, they gave indications that, in their opinion, it would be best if we didn't. And, I think if this were our first adoption, I may have been more nervous to proceed. And, if our sole purpose to adopt was simply to fill a desire to have more children, then we would probably have stopped the adoption. But, that is simply not the case. Although we love our children and are happy to have more, we were pretty content with our three boys. But, we knew God was calling us to adoption. There was more behind our yes to adoption than just simply wanting to have more children (that more will be covered in a moment).</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">So, why are we still adopting?</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Here is my answer:</span></b><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">(Before I get to the actual numbered reasons, I want to clarify something. We love TJ as if he were our son, 100% , already. And when you love your child, you want what is best for him/her; even if it is painful or hurts you. We want what is best for TJ; even if that means we are not what is best for him. And after we found out we were having a baby, we prayed, and talked, and prayed and talked some more about what is best for TJ. Was our family still what was best for him? And, our answer, again, and again, was yes. We still firmly believe that our family is what is best for TJ, even with a little sister coming right after him. The reasons below, are my answers after answering the most important question . . . . What is best for TJ?)</span></i><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">1. He is our son. Period. </span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I am going to let you in on a little secret. Do you know what my first thought was as I held the positive pregnancy test in my hand? <b><i> I cannot leave Thomas Joseph in China! </i></b> And those were the first words I said to Pete when I told him we were having a baby (I didn't exactly get the "best way to share the news with your spouse" award on this one). I was panicked that we would lose Thomas. That I would lose my son. I know families who have adopted get this. You see a photo and you just know that you are looking at the face of your child. God has shown up again and again in our process to adopt Thomas and it is hard to refute that he is our son. God set something in motion on October 30, 2014; the day I met TJ. It was like He whispered in my ear a promise, yet that promise was not fully revealed until 6 months later. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And because he is our son, I would fight for him (and already have too). The change in our family does not change the fact that he is our son. And so, we still work to get him home.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">2. We feel God is calling us to adopt Thomas Joseph</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">No explanation necessary on this one.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">3. 147 Million Oprhans</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">You can find different numbers for this, as no one can really know truly how many orphans there are in the world, but there are anywhere from 147-163 million orphans around the word. China reports that there are 576,000 orphans in their care in the social welfare system alone. These children need families.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Children need families.</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Thomas needs a family.</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Adoption is hard and broken and beautiful all at the same time. Pete and I are far from perfect. We are far from perfect parents and fail our children more than we would like. But, that is all a part of parenting and being a family. We are not better suited for this journey than you are. But, we feel called and I believe that God has given us the grace to walk this beautiful and broken road. We are walking it with Felicity, we will walk it again with Thomas. And I would gladly say yes to adopting again, if called. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I often say a short phrase to my boys, "See a need. Fill it." I started using this phrase with them when they were complaining that I was asking them to do chores that weren't their "normal" chores. But, we have also had long discussions about this idea and how we should look for ways to help others too. Adoption is a need that God has opened our eyes to and we are filling it. I do not mind days at clinics, researching doctors who are best suited for our children's special needs. I do not mind working at different therapies with the kiddos. There are moments that I get the sense that God is equipping us with all we need to walk these roads with our special needs kiddos. And, in a way, I like it. Getting a first row seat to transformation, to redemption is pretty powerful and special. And with this in mind . . .</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">4. You get far more than you give. </span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">We may give a lot, sacrifice a lot to adopt and parent an adopted child. But, the reward is far more precious. We do not do it because of that, but it is a beautiful side benefit. It is found in the little moments. The boys, holding Felicity's hand, guiding her. It is when she kisses us good night or begs for her brother to read to her before bed. It is her screaming "Yaya" (Her version of Dada) when Pete comes home and running into his arms as the door opens. These moments are so special and the blessings of them are indescribable.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">5. There is no "line" waiting to adopt children like Thomas.</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Thomas is a boy with a heart condition. Those are two strikes. And the older her gets, the closer he gets to getting his third strike. Truthfully, we were not even open to adopting a child like him when we adopted Felicity. But, God opened our eyes and heart. Upon reading his file the first time, my initial reaction was NO. But, after seeking several doctors' advice, we know that right now he is healthy and doing really well. We are aware that he may need surgery in the future. We have discussed the fact that although he could live a healthy, happy, long life, we know that he may not. We know we could outlive him. But, for the years we have with him, we want to him to experience the joys of being a part of a family. </span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">6. There is always room for more</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I LOVE my kids. Each is a special gift and I cannot imagine not having each and every one of them. We live in a small house. A house that feels smaller with each addition and as the boys grow. But there is always room for more. More love. More laughter. We may not fit in our van any more, and we may feel maxed out in our home when TJ and the baby arrive, but somehow, if God calls us, I think we would gladly make room for more. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Finally, I have worried about how Felicity and Thomas will handle a baby in the home. I have worried they will feel replaced somehow or feel threatened. And I guess that may even be something families worry about when they have another biological child too. But, when I have prayed about all of this, I also get a sense of hope. Hope, that in some way, being able to witness, first hand, a baby coming into a family and being welcomed into a family, will be healing for them. Maybe I am wrong, but I pray that for them. I pray that being a witness to how the birth of a baby should be if our world weren't so broken, will be healing to a child who was born and then abandoned.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">We welcome Thomas into our family with joy. We cannot wait for him to come home and become a son, a little brother and a big brother all in a short time! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">So, if you were wondering why in the world we would still adopt with a baby on the way, this is why.</span><br />
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<br />Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11571439982499787798noreply@blogger.com1