Tuesday, December 30, 2014


This Christmas Eve I found myself in a familiar scenario. The presents were wrapped. The halls were decked. Family was visited. Fun was being had. And still, given the slightest opportunity, I found myself plagued by worry. Fear. My flesh is strong. And I am so very weak. Feeling attacked. We prayed. Well, Hib prayed. I cried. Angry at myself. And the fear slowly faded. And ever since He's been flooding my mind with His miracles. And I know what He's doing. 

 You see, I think some of my fear has to do with His revelation to me over the past several years. The revelation that to know Him well, I have to desire Him. Enjoy Him.  And there's a strong correlation between my desire for Him and my pain. For me, when I'm broken. I lean in. Obviously, He knows this. He knows these are the times when I'll trade amazing nights with the best of friends for staying home with Him. He knows these are the times when the things of this world fade into the background and He becomes more near. And so I fear. Because I do want to know Him more. I tell Him this. And I'm afraid of what He'll do next.

But what I'm realizing, now. The brokenness. The Pain and heartache. Though they were invaluable.  He wasn't teaching me that I had to hurt to know Him. (There's truth there, but it's not the end of the story) He just took full advantage of the opportunity He had when He knew I'd be ready. When He knew I'd crave more of Him. And He eagerly offered Himself. He revealed Himself. I was getting to know Him. Each time, another facet of Him.  
 He's reminding me of who He is. 

For days, all through Christmas as He would have it, I've been fixated on His miracles. The big ones. You know, like Him sending His Son and all. But not just those. Like Him, there's more.

The unraveling of my life's circumstances started about five years ago. There have been countless challenges. There have been countless more miracles.

In the last five years, I've witnessed God rescue us from financial despair. And not through any effort of our own. And believe me, we tried.  No, I've watched God do it in ways only He could do. The selling of the house at the perfect time. The house available to rent at the exact same time. The check in the mail-an unexpected gift. Medical bills-covered. 
I've watched Him provide for us. Over. And over. And over again. The family business that not only stayed afloat, but flourished. The leave from work I shouldn't have been able to take. The vacations we somehow still take.  It doesn't make any sense. 
I've felt Him comfort us. Hours after words anyone would pray they never hear come out of doctors' mouths. Comfort. Peace. Only He can do that. 

I've been lucky enough to see Him heal first hand. Not just physical healing. Those would've been spectacular enough. But I'm in the process of being blown away as He heals hearts. Mine included. Come on, seriously. Only He can do that.  
Yes, this season I'm concentrating on miracles. I'm setting my sights on who He is. And I know I've just scratched the surface of this Father who desires us. Who wants us to know Him. Who loves us fiercely. 

I'm heading into the New Year continuing to pray (and live) with a little less trepidation.  Because although the tough times are inevitable. Our God's goodness is undeniable. We are blessed.
Happy New Year!!!

Monday, December 1, 2014


We were sick again this Thanksgiving. That makes three Thanksgivings in a row for us. No joke.  

  Last year, the stomach flu ripped through our entire family in a matter of mere hours. This year, the illness was milder. But lengthier. Seven days I was pretty much out for the count. Hib didn't work all week. He got it, too.

And although we couldn't deny the reality of our less than ideal situation. We found ourselves so readily thanking Him.

For Hib's job that allows him to be home. For a home. A beautiful home. For sweet daughters who miraculously managed to stay well. And not kill each other. For precious time together, really.

For family we missed so dearly. Who checked in on us constantly. Brought us food. And medicine. Who care for us.

We are so incredibly thankful.

For a Father who, if we're just willing to lean in, opens our hearts to His Presence. And our minds to His thoughts.  

Happy Thanksgiving!!! 

Wednesday, November 5, 2014

Toddler Talk


Me: (After reading Libby's report from school. )Libby, you didn't listen today. Did you try to scratch your teachers?
Libby: Yeah.
Me: Libby, no scratch. No.
Libby: Okay. Watch show? Gabba? (points to TV)
Me: Libby, you're not listening. No scratch. If you touch, you touch nice.
Libby: Okay, mom. Touch nice (strokes my arm, gently). Gabba?
Me: NO. You have to listen. You have to do nice touches. No scratching. NO Gabba.
Libby: (long pause)....Elmo?

Annie: (sneezes loudly in car) Hey Libby, can you say bless you?
Libby: Bless you, Annie.
Annie: Oh, thank you for saying bless you after I sneeze, Libby.

Annie: (at Libby's doctor appointment) Libby, don't worry. Doctors are so nice. I'm gonna be right here.  Here, hold my hand, sweetie.
Libby: (holds Annie's hand and stares at her)
(Then, Annie grabs her baby owl and places him on the examination table.)
Annie: See, Libby. Owl is gonna see the doctor. It's fine.
(We hear footsteps outside the door indicating the doctor is about to come in. Annie hurriedly jerks owl back off the exam table and holds him close.)
Annie: Oh, actually I don't think owl wants to see the doctor today.

I told the girls a little story about Elmo over dinner. Actually, I just retold the gist of an Elmo video we watch all the time....

Me: I think Elmo would be VERY excited if we started going on the potty every single time we have to go. In fact, he told me he wanted me to give you a sticker every time you go on the potty. 
(Long pause, and two wide eyed little girls)
Libby: A sticker? Me!!!!!!
Me: Yes, every time you go on the potty Elmo wants me to give you a sticker! 
Annie: (climbing down out of her chair) I think I need to go to the potty. 

As we finished putting Libby's Halloween costume on...
Annie: Oh, Libby. You look adorable!
Libby: (beaming) Thank you, Annie.

In the car after lunch with Annie, and on our way to pick up Libby...

Annie: Maybe I can give Libby some of my chocolate milk? 
Me: Oh, that would be nice, sweetie.
(after the 10 minute drive to school, and Libby gets in the car)
Annie: Libby, would you like some of my chocolate milk? Uh oh, I think I drank it all. I'm so sorry. 

Thursday, October 9, 2014

Treatment Update (and it's a really good one!)

A little over two years ago Libby was diagnosed with leukemia.

(June 2012)

 I remember like it was yesterday. The initial fear that swept over me. The pain that engulfed me. More than that, I remember His peace. In the thick of it. Indescribable Peace. He met me there. Smack in the middle of tears, anger and hurt.  It's a place I've found myself over and over again the past several years. This seemingly mysterious dichotomy between pain and suffering and a good and gracious God. Followed by the revelation that this contrast is only in my mind. Instead, pain and suffering and God are intricately linked.  

 (June 2012) 

Oswald Chambers wrote, The Christian life is gloriously difficult, but the difficulty of it does not make us cave in. It rouses us up to overcome. The truth is we all struggle. We all have overwhelming lives, broken relationships, health issues. We all have something at one point or another. Life here isn't easy. And He told us it wouldn't be. But our circumstances don't dictate our Joy. They rouse us up to overcome. They cause us to look up. They help us see He has already overcome.

 (August 2012)

As I struggle. And as I watch others struggle. I pray for His eyes. And in what I consider, by far, one of the best answers to my prayers. Sometimes He gives me His eyes. 

 (September 2012)

These struggles. They're blessings. Incredible blessings. Because when I am weak. He is strong. When I am small. He is bigger.  
As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts. Isaiah 55:9   

(September 2012)

We've come to a bit of an oasis on our journey. And He's blowing our minds. Libby is off therapy. In better words, she is finished with chemo!!!  It's surreal, honestly. It feels amazing. And that's an enormous understatement. We're so thankful. Another enormous understatement. We just keep praising Him.

(March 2013)
The doctors want to keep Libby's port in for another couple of months. They want to continue her IVIG  (the antibodies they flush her with to help boost her immune system) infusions through the thick of the cold/flu season. They're talking about January as her potential port removal surgery date.
(June 2013)

There are countless things I'm learning on this journey of ours. One of the biggest is my girls are not mine. They're His. It's one of the things He began working out with me early on. Like the moment He gave them to me. And I still give Him fits. l like to meddle. I still try to grasp for control.
( Present Day :) )

 One of our doctors asked me if I was nervous about Libby being off therapy. He knows all too well the mixed emotions at this juncture. Sure, she's finished taking those nasty drugs. BUT she's finished taking those nasty drugs. The drugs that fight an even nastier cancer. I get that. Absolutely, I've thought of that. And my flesh wants to worry.  But I want to rest in Him. I don't have to worry. The bottom line is we're not just praising and thanking Him because Libby is cancer free today. We're praising and thanking Him because our all-loving Father is in control.
 You know, the One with the perfect plan. :)

(Present Day :))

And by the way, I hope you know how much your prayers mean to us. And I hope you know how much you mean to us. I hope you know how much we love you.

No more chemo, y'all!!! Woo Hoo!!!!!!!!