Abbey is FOUR!

I know this is a little late, but on April 18, our dear sweet Abbey turned four! She is so excited to turn four. Abbey said, "Now that I'm four I will learn how to read." She still loves doing puzzles and can quickly assemble 100 piece puzzles.

Abbey and Magdalena are becoming good friends. Abbey and Maggie enjoy playing with the dollhouse and little farm animals together as well as doing puzzles together. Abbey loves having Anne read to her. Abbey also loves coloring with markers. She continues to be very diligent in whatever she is working on, whether it is coloring a picture, putting a puzzle together or eating. She eats very slowly, but usually does a good job finishing her meal. She loves cheeseburgers and french fries, macaroni and cheese with stewed tomatoes, and ice cream. Lots and lots of ice cream.

I feel like Abbey is a harder kid for me to figure out. Anne is very similar to me so I understand what she is feeling and her emotions. Abbey is different. She often seems like nothing bothers her and she is very very sweet. And other times something will happen that sets her off and she has the worst outbursts of all the kids put together. I am still learning who Abbey really is, and it has been neat for me to learn about her. She tends to bottle things up that may have bothered her and then explode. We are working on talking through our feelings and finding appropriate ways to show our anger and frustration. Anne has actually helped a lot in this. The other day Anne told Abbey that when she feels out of control to go to her room and shut the door and cry out to God, because He will help her. And she did it! And it worked! It was really amazing to see a little four-year-old girl crying out to God and giving Him her frustrations and her weaknesses, and emerge from the bedroom victorious!

Looking a little nixy.

Abbey is very smart. She easily writes her name, and reads many many words. She wants to start Kindergarten in the fall with Anne.

Abbey loves animals, especially dogs, cats, and owls and "cute" bugs, like ladybugs. She also still loves flowers. She loves the small, dainty flowers (like the flowers that weeds produce). Abbey says that when she grows up she wants to be like Uncle Troy and not get married.

Abbey and the bunny.

Even though Abbey has her crazy outbursts, she is overall a sweet, gentle girl. She truly loves her sisters and is very genuine in her affections. She has a tender heart and is already a little prayer warrior. She has a list of people that she prays for every night, and that list seems to get longer and longer. As people she prays for either are healed or die, she adjusts the list as needed. She has an amazing memory and can remember things that I quickly forget.

Abbey had her 4-year well-child check this morning. She is now 29 pounds and 40 inches! She has gained six pounds over the past year and grown four inches taller!!! I was so happy to see how she has grown!  Abbey is a dear little girl and we are so thankful to have her as a part of our family. Happy fourth birthday, Abigail Frances! We love you!! Enjoy the rest of these cute pictures!!

Journey to Perfection

Two encounters this past week led to this blog. One from a person asking me to write more often, and another who (I think secretly) believes I/my life, is perfect. And, to be quite honest, I don't think this "friend" likes me very much.

Of course, none of us is perfect. I remember that when I was in middle school and I was so confused about who I was and my life, that I truly believed a classmate of mine was absolutely perfect, and that her FAMILY was perfect. This was so painful to me because I felt like my family was falling apart. I made a comment to this classmate about her "perfect life" and (much to my surprise) she set me straight and told me of the past struggles of her family, of a death of an infant sibling and several other things that were far, far from perfect. I was shocked. To me this family looked like a picture of perfection, and in some ways, they seemed even more unreal when they were honest about their struggles.

Each of us has a story to tell. Some might be a little more "mundane" than others. Some may feel like a constant battle with more downs than ups. But here's the thing: each of us are on a journey. It is up to us to choose where we go. Of course, there are factors that we cannot control such as divorce of parents, abuse, illness, etc. BUT, it is up to us how we overcome and walk through these negative influences in our lives.

Do you guys remember those "choose your own adventure" books? I used to love those in maybe third grade. But did you ever get to the end of your adventure and realize that you didn't like one of the choices you made somewhere along the line because you didn't like the ending that you chose? But when you tried to go back you couldn't figure out exactly where you made the mistake, because of course, there were many many little choices that ultimately led you to your ending.

Maybe that is a poor illustration of what I'm trying to say, but it makes sense to me.

I think often I choose not to share my story because I am too prideful. Also, I try to be careful not to make others look bad, especially on the internet. So in an attempt to shed some light on how I came to be the "perfect" (ha!) person I am now, I will share a portion of my journey.

As I have mentioned before, things were difficult in my home growing up. Each of my siblings would probably share their story differently, as each of us were different ages as we went through these things, and they would have interpreted situations differently than I did. But I cannot share for my siblings, so I will share for myself.

When I was in sixth grade I "fell in" with a bad crowd. Of course, this was a choice that I made, along with a series of other poor choices I made that year, like swearing (a lot), being disrespectful and kissing a boy. Each of those choices led to other things that I cannot change but am not proud of.

I was baptized at church that year. Not because I really felt, or believed what I was professing to believe, but because my friends were and I didn't want to have to go through the class alone in the next few years or whenever I thought I believed in the Lord as my Savior.

In seventh grade my mom made the decision to take me out of public school and put me in private school. At the time I absolutely hated her for this. But looking back (even though I still made bad choices), it was definitely for the best and I am extremely grateful for the sacrifices she made to pay for my education and essentially, the better influence of peers.

Also in seventh grade I was accused of doing something that I did not do. One of my parents lied to the other to cover up their own sin, and blamed it on me. This was so detrimental to my self-esteem, my joy, and my life. I couldn't believe that my own parent would say something like that about me. The little respect that I had for adults was now almost completely diminished. While I still kept good grades, I was, for lack of a better word, a jerk to all my teachers. Because in my mind, who knows what disgusting things they are also capable of? All of my report cards showed "needs improvement" in the "Respect" category.

Most of my confusion came out in the aforementioned lack of respect, talking out in class, and joking. Always, always joking. Because if you are laughing and joking, you can't be hurting. At least that is what I told myself for many many years.

And boys. There were always boys. I never felt secure in who I was unless I had a boyfriend. And of course, boyfriends led to many other poor choices. 

Now that I'm a mom and have read lots of "Raising Daughters" books I know the psychology behind this. Dads are so extremely important in their daughter's lives. I have always thought Trent was a great dad, but especially after reading these books I realized how essential he is to the girls, and he was already doing the "right" things to help raise strong daughters.

I think that is all for today. Perhaps another day I can let go of my pride even more and share again.In the meantime, enjoy this adorable picture of the girls!

Just for fun!

We've had some emotionally charged days over here. The kids are really missing our foster son and many tears have been shed on his behalf. But, instead of focusing on something sad, today I will share something that I really enjoy doing....

PAINTING!!

Anne also really enjoys painting. She often helps me with the first coat of paint on my signs. Sometimes I am too impatient to let her finish, but I'm trying to do better.

Most of the signs I paint are custom signs for friends. I tried consigning some but it was unsuccessful. I have recently had two order from people who I do not know personally, so the word of mouth is spreading about these adorable things.

Here are some examples of signs I have recently finished.

 

I have one order that I am currently working on, and I'm hoping to have more orders soon. In the meantime I will probably make a couple as gifts for some upcoming events that I am looking forward to attending! 

The Defense of Marriage

1 Peter 5:8 "Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy, the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour."

Proverbs 4:23 "Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life."

I have always liked to label myself as a passionate person. Thankfully my passions have changed from soccer and boys while in high school, to now building a strong marriage and raising my children with grace.

Something that has been on my heart for a long time is marriage. Statistics show that a large percentage of low-income families are also single-parent families. The devil would like nothing better than to ruin our country and our world by destroying the family unit.

People, we need to WAKE UP! We have a very active enemy prowling around looking for someone to devour. We have a large local church who just let go one of their pastors because he was committing adultery with his female assistant. How does this happen? How do two Christian people fall into this?

I heard a sermon preached by Matt Chandler in which he stated something along the lines of: "Do you know how I know my wife is "the one"? Because I married her!!! Could I be happy with someone else? Probably. But I married my wife!"

So here's the thing; I think sometimes people become complacent. Maybe their marriage is "fine" but there is something that the other spouse does that irritates them. So, without trying it, they start looking at other individuals who don't have that annoying flaw. And somehow, they are no longer "alert" or "self-controlled". 

We need to be vigilant defenders of our marriages. We need to appreciate our spouse, show them our love and respect in various ways. If you know your husband loves a hot meal when he gets home but you never make one for him, you are not loving him the way that he wants to be loved. If a husband knows that his wife likes to talk to him in the evenings before bed but he never listens or reciprocates conversation, he is not loving his wife.

I think the very basic reason for marriages failing is because people are selfish. When a husband and a wife can become as selfless as possible, their marriage will succeed.

A few months ago I had a conversation with someone who was going through their second divorce. When she asked how long I had been married and I told her "seven years" she was surprised and asked, "How do you do it?" but didn't wait for an answer. She continued on to say that she must have "the family curse" because almost everyone in the family was divorced more than once.

Friends, we MUST be intentional in making our marriages succeed. They do not have to fail! Think how hard you tried to please your spouse when you were dating. I want to encourage you all to do one thing today to intentionally please your spouse.

I think I could underline every word in the 1 Peter 5:8 passage,  
"Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour."

The imagery in this Scripture is awful. The devil, in the form of a roaring lion, prowling, searching, looking for those who are not alert, waiting to devour them!! 

I hope all my friends will be intentional today to show love and respect for their spouse.  

One-in-a-Million?

What are the chances? One-in-a-million? One-in-two-million? I really have no idea what the chances are. But I do know this:

For the past year or so I have been making Wal*Mart trips after the kids are in bed. These trips usually occur every other month. In this past year I have NEVER once seen a single person that I know during these evening trips alone.

Last night I made my trip for those necessities that are so much cheaper at Wal*Mart; such as the ever essential toilet paper which we use so much of with all of these girls. I was nearly finished with my list when I went to the opposite side of the store for the very last item on my list. As I was walking I glanced down an aisle and thought, "that lady looks familiar." I did a double take and stopped in my tracks.

It was our former foster children's new foster mother. I inquired of the children, eager for the news that the caseworker does not gives us. I have always had the other foster family's phone number but it never seemed right to call. And then I see her at Wal*Mart. And again, I ask, what are the chances? I believe that only God could have orchestrated this "chance" meeting.

I'm still trying to process my feelings over this encounter.

After talking to her for several minutes she showed me a photo of our foster son's hair cut. I could have cried. (And later I did.) I had begged for his hair to be cut, but his mom would not allow it. She finally did, and he looked so adorable. He lost his "baby" look and instead gained the face of a toddler. The teeth he was cutting when he left came through. I don't know if I would have recognized him. And that was hard to take.

Our foster daughter is much the same. She regressed when her brother came to live with them. Our foster son was completely out of sorts until just recently.

It was a painful meeting. I'm not sure why God allowed it. My "mother's heart" was so hurt at hearing how our foster son was confused, not sleeping well, and crying.

I will forever carry this little boy in my heart. I know that no matter how long I live I will wonder about where he is and if he is safe. I will pray for him as I do my own girls.

I do not understand the ways of God, nor do I pretend to. These two children have forever changed me. I'm sure that they have impacted me more than I did them.

The hurt I am feeling is still raw. I like to understand why things happen, and I don't know that I ever will be able to fully comprehend this situation.

I decided to tell the girls this morning about my meeting last evening and Anne cried. Maggie emphatically claimed how she missed him. Abbey insisted that we pray for him immediately. They want him to come back, but he never will. Their hearts are still hurting.

I believe they will be very different adults for having this experience as children. We are all changed. Loving someone deeply and letting them go will never be easy. It is my first experience with a grief so deep.

I apologize for this somewhat rambling post, as I mentioned before I am still processing these feelings. I promise to post something more positive in the future!

Humbled

Humbled.

By a five-year-old. It never ceases to amaze me the Spiritual depth that a child so young can have.

Over the past few weeks I have been diligently searching obsessing over houses. What is the right house for us? Is now a good time to move? What is God's timing? Will the "perfect" house ever come along? I have spent countless hours on the real estate website, zillow, the county assessment site, searching, researching and following the trail of every possible house that might be an option for us.

Last week at the mom's group I attend we had a guest speaker talking about prayer, and how to "Pray Like Crazy for your Kids" and "Pray Like Crazy for your Husband". She talked about fasting in a way I had never heard before. Since there isn't a particular food that I care for above any other, I decided that I would fast from house searching during the day since it was taking so much TIME. Trent and I would still look together in the evenings, but during the day I would fast from it. Our speaker said that fasting and praying go hand-in-hand. You can't have one without the other. During the time that I would normally spend house hunting I would spend in prayer. This is often 30-45 minutes while the kids are napping. And any time throughout the day that a house or houses would pop into my head I would say a quick prayer. I didn't really pray specific prayers, more just along the lines of peace, in trusting in God's timing and God's will.

But where was I? Oh yes, I was humbled. So here I thought I had grown tremendously this past week (and I still think I have!), when my five year old humbled me. We put an offer in on a house on Monday, and on Tuesday afternoon the offer was accepted! We still have details to work out, but my prayer is that from here on out things will go smoothly.

This morning at breakfast I was excited about this house and thinking about light fixtures and paint and mentally organizing the house (because I'm crazy like that) when Anne starts talking. Our conversation went something like this:

Anne, " Last night after you went out of my room, I prayed that Satan would just turn around and that he would tell God that he is sorry and that he would stop trying to get people to do bad things. And then maybe God would let him be an angel again."

*I think my heart stopped beating here.*

Abbey chimes in with, "And then Annie prayed for your dad that you used to have when you were a little girl and that he would love Jesus, too."

*And here my heart broke.*

I think some people are born with a humble spirit. I was not. I like to feel independent. Unfortunately independence and pride are often best friends. I had felt pretty proud and excited about the Spiritual transformation that I had seen in myself in the past week. And then my five and almost four-year-old daughters displayed so much more Spiritual maturity than I have at 28.

Don't get me wrong. I truly believe that God cares and hears our prayers for the things we worry about and struggle with, things that are often of this world (such as houses)! And he answers those prayers as I have seen in my life this week. How much more will He hear and answer the innocent prayers of sweet children who are praying (not for a house) but for lost souls?? I mean, who prays for Satan???

I had spend so much time thinking and obsessing and worrying and praying about a house. When was the last time I prayed for my dad's soul? When was the last time I prayed for anyone's soul? I have multiple family members who are not walking with the Lord. Why don't I pray for them??? How is is that I have enough faith to pray for a house and believe that God will answer that prayer, but not enough faith to pray for the lost all around me?

Mark 9:24 says, "Immediately the boy's father exclaimed, "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!""

In this passage of Scripture Jesus' disciples had tried to cast an evil spirit out of a boy, but could not do it. The boy was brought to Jesus and the father pleaded that if Jesus could do anything to please have pity on them and help the boy. Jesus responds, "If you can? Everything is possible to him who believes." And that is when the boy's father says, "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!"

Sometimes things seem so impossible to me because I have seen no change for years. Perhaps much as this boy's father had seen no change in him for many years. Yet, he wanted to believe. Sometimes in our human and imperfect lives it is so hard to truly believe that something long unchanged CAN BE TRANSFORMED!!

This morning Jesus spoke to me through my two small children. If they can pray for lost souls, so can I. And I will pray, believing for change, and at the same time asking for help to overcome my unbelief. Thank you, Lord, for entrusting these precious children to me. So often I believe I am the one who will be nurturing them, encouraging them, spurring them on to do the good works of the Lord, when clearly, at least today, it was the opposite.

A Heartbreaking Good-Bye

Last week we said good-bye to our dear foster son. The judge approved for him to move to the same foster home as his sister. I received a call from a caseworker at 11:30 am that this was the decision, and a caseworker came an hour later and picked him up.

I had been mentally preparing myself for this as we knew there was a very real possibility that he would leave. I had already packed most of his toys. I had one hour to pack his remaining items and say good-bye.  I was a complete disaster. I didn't have an emotional attachment to most of his clothing, but my mom had made matching pajamas for the kids for Christmas - in a Christmas plaid. It was a long-sleeve button up shirt that we always called his "old man pajamas" because he reminded us of a little old man toddling around in a night shirt. When I got to that pair of pajamas to put away forever I cried and cried and cried.

Before I knew it the caseworker had arrived at our home. She began taking his things to her car. She walked out the door and our foster son said, "Bye-bye!" I lost it again. The poor dear didn't understand that it would be him leaving this time.

She took him from my arms. I kissed his chubby cheeks for the last time. She took him away.  I watched from the window, sobbing silently and she carried my little boy away. I'll never forget him sitting in the back seat, looking around, probably wondering where he was going and why. They drove away and were gone from our lives.

This good-bye was much more difficult for me than I expected. I closed his bedroom door because it was too painful for me to see his crib and know that he will never sleep in it again.

The day passed, slowly and painfully. But the next morning came, and there was joy. Despite the sadness, there was joy. Each day has gotten easier. Much as we loved him, he also carried with him a huge burden, one that we had gladly shouldered, but a burden nonetheless.

Yesterday marked one week since he departure. I finally gathered up the sheets and blankets from his crib to wash. As a put one of the blankets into the machine I caught a whiff of his smell. I held the blanket to my face and smelled him for the last time. I considered not washing the blanket, but thought it would help me move on if I didn't have that reminder of him.

Today Maggie found the ball we got him for his birthday under the couch. She said she misses him. We all do. We are moving on, but we still miss him. I am thankful that he is with a Christian family and will continue to pray for him and his sister.