I'm disappointed, but...

 

 

 

 

"The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss and have found their way out of the depths.  These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen."

~~Elizabeth Kubler-Ross

 

 

Psalm 94:18-19

When I said, "My foot is slipping," your unfailing love, LORD, supported me. When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought me joy.

I'm disappointed.

 

Disappointed that we are in a familiar place again. Disappointed at what this place brings to our lives. Nobody likes it. We just go along doing our best to survive it.

 

Isaac's body is experiencing referred reaction to months and months of chronic reflux. He has scar tissue that has built up in his body from all of the acid from his tummy before and after his artery repair surgery. Over time, this scar tissue has grown and is now causing chronic rhinitis and obstructive sleep apnea. He has begun to sleep with his neck tilted far back, in order to compensate for the lack of air he is breathing in through his nose and mouth. He slept like that for the first year of his life when he first experienced obstructive sleep apnea. There are a few other domino effects that it's causing throughout his body that we are keeping a watch on.   He will undergo a ct scan within the next few weeks and another surgery or two, to cut away the scar tissue so that he can breathe easier at night. The ct scan will also revisit an area of abnormality that was found on his brain when he was just a few months old.

 

It's been over 3 weeks now, that we're going about our day on about 4-5 hours of sleep a night. All of us.  It's beginning to take a toll on the household. We do our best to keep things as normal as possible around here, but some days, it's just not doable. I think we all want to scream at times, because we can't believe that we are revisiting a season that we prayed so hard to get out of. One that we lived in for over a year.

 

Medicine regimens have changed and increased and now we give Isaac 9 different medicines during a 24 hour period. A few of them we give 4 times a day. For a busy toddler, who doesn't know that he is sick or not sick, mainly because this is all he's ever known, this just doesn't fit into his schedule. He'd much rather be playing with blocks or dirt, instead of being held down for another breathing treatment.

 

 

We celebrated his birthday this past weekend with family and friends. It was a day that reminded us to take in all of the joy and put the hard stuff on the shelf for the day. The hard stuff? We've seen our share over the past 2 years. On most days, I can honestly say that I get into a groove of "we got this". We've survived worse than this, right? This should seem easy to pros like us.  But, when I am finally in the quiet of my van on the way to the post office or to the local supermarket, my tears say otherwise. Frankly, I'm tired. Physically and emotionally tired. 

 

Don't get me wrong, I adore this boy with every fiber within me. I can handle the medicine schedule and the sleepless nights. If I push myself hard enough, I can even wear a smile on my face that no one would even think to guess was fake. But, watching your child suffer and continue to struggle with physical illness, gets old. It doesn't get any easier. My heart breaks because of it. It drains me to empty on most days.

 

 

People aren't always easy to deal with either, whether it be the nurses or physicians, or people in the waiting room with us.  Isaac has severe anxiety disorder in doctor's offices. He begins to feel it as soon as the door opens and he takes in every medical device on the wall, or even the familiar fish tank that seems to be in all of the waiting rooms.  He whines and moans until they call his name, in which he then begins to cry and cling to me. The clinging soon turns into fight or flight whaling and thrashing as he sees the examining table in the room we are assigned to. People just don't get it. They don't know his history unless they spend hours reading his medical folder. They just see a screaming toddler or a very loud obnoxious- misbehaving- thrashing toddler. And really...I get tired explaining to people why he is the way that he is. And compassion doesn't run deep in everyone. I smile through my tired and sweat filled body, while I fight to hold him and do my best to soothe him. They don't know the internal struggle that's going on inside both of us.

 

 

Then there are people who know his history.

The people that have seen us walk through the past two years.

I know their heart is genuine for the most part. I know that they love us and our boy. We have seen Jesus in the face of many, many people. People that we would not have expected to bless us, have blessed our socks off at times. Friendships have surfaced that are absolutely a blessing and friendships have faded from the awkwardness of our "situation". People don't always know what to say or do in situations like ours. Situations that seem to last for seasons and seasons.  Comments like, "Oh, he's sick again?" or "Oh, you poor guys." or "He looks so healthy.  Are you sure he's sick?" or "You just gotta have faith".  They ask how he's doing in hopes that you are going to say that he's doing great. And most of the time, I say that he is, because at the time, in the middle of the day, he's fine. When in reality, our nights are a nightmare. I used to look forward to bedtime, but now, it makes me nervous. I kind of hate it.  But, people don't want to hear that. They want to hear that he's doing good. They want to know that you are doing good, even though you're not. It's just a weird place to be. I pray all the time that my frustration and discontent in where we are does not reflect from my mouth towards others. I pray that my words are gentle and full of hope and strength. I pray that people see more of Him, and less of me. I pray that I reflect His grace over and over again.   But, sometimes, I just need to be real with myself. It's just hard all the way around.

 

My precious friend wrote a blog a week or so ago. I read it and sobbed and cheered and clapped like a crazy seal. It was as though she looked through the window of my heart and saw all the emotions inside of it. She's in a hard season with her own child. She really put things into perspective when it comes to dealing with others while they are in a hard place. She's pretty amazing! If you aren't following her blog, you should be. There's also an opportunity to bless her family at the bottom of each post.

http://www.bayoubelles.com/2015/09/lessons-learned-how-to-respond-to.html

 

 

Yesterday, as I watched my little doodlebug play in the dirt outside, I talked with God. I told Him how disappointed I was to be where we are, again. It's not exactly the same, and I am thankful that our boy's heart and esophagus are healed, but it's a familiar place I just didn't want to revisit.  I cried and let Him know what I thought of our situation.  And then I sat in the quiet as my tears hit my lap.  He gently reminded me of this scripture:

 

Psalm 34:18

The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

 

Disappointed people have broken hearts. Disappointed people feel like their spirits are crushed.

 

That's me.

 

He is close to the disappointed. He is close to the broken hearted. He is close to those who are crushed in spirit. He is close. 

 

God knows that there will be times that our hearts will be crushed, times that we will be disappointed with our circumstance. And He promises to be close to us. He declares it. The word "is" declares it so. "Is" is a state of being. A place of current existence. In the midst of my disappointment, He IS close to me. He exists in the same space as I do.   He IS with me. He IS my God.

 

 

It's okay for me to feel this way. It's okay for me to not want to be here, to not want to relive this place with our boy.  Life is just that way sometimes, disappointing.

 

The scripture goes on to say:

 

Psalm 34:19



The righteous person may have many troubles, but the LORD delivers him from them all;

Just because I am disappointed right now, doesn't mean that I don't believe He will deliver us, just like He did before. It doesn't mean I've lost my faith.  It's just a place I am right now. It only determines my current position, not my destination. 

 

I know that we will one day see this season as a distant memory. I know what my God is capable of. I know that the Redeemer redeems all things.  But, for now, this place is very real to us. It's where we are. It's our normal.

 

Proverbs 24:16
"for though the righteous fall seven times, they rise again,"

 

 

Last night, I laid in bed with our little guy as we read one of the new books he received for his birthday. We snuggled and giggled as we read the book over and over again. In that moment, everything was just as it should be, perfect.

 

I'm disappointed, but it won't last forever.

 

 

Psalm 71:5-8

For you have been my hope, Sovereign Lord,

my confidence since my youth.

From birth I have relied on you;

you brought me forth from my mother’s womb.

I will ever praise you.

I have become a sign to many;

you are my strong refuge.

My mouth is filled with your praise,

declaring your splendor all day long.

 

 

Psalm 71:14

As for me, I will always have hope; I will praise you more and more.

 

 



 

 

 

 

 



Where we are.

 

 

 

"Seek the presence of God and hang on to Him.  Go where He goes and let Him fight for you.  Invariably when we're most exhausted, we'll find we're expending more energy fighting the enemy than we are seeking God's presence.  More than you seek to win, seek Christ! More than you seek victory, seek the Victor! As you do, you are binding yourself to His presence and trusting God to carry you into victory." ~~Beth Moore

 

 

 

 

 

I look at this picture and I almost don't recognize my own children.

Crazy right?

 Man, how they have all changed so much over the last year and a few months.

They are all so crazy amazing! We are so blessed.

 

It's been quite a long while since I have written in this space. My intentions are always to write, but the timing doesn't always fit with my intentions.  

This past year has been a full one.
 We've had lots of laughs and a few tears.  Some good times and some bad.  There were struggles and there have been victories. All in all, it's been a good one.

 

I'm happy to be able to have a little time to myself today, so

 I thought I'd help myself catch up on where we are.

 

So, if you're interested, this is

  where we are...

 

 

 

 

 

 



 

 

 

Amber is now 22 years old. Wow!

 

She is in Romania. 

 

 She has been there with CTI (Cross Training International) for almost 5 months now. 

 She is truly living out God's voice over her life. 

He spoke to her a few years ago, after her first trip to Romania, that He would send her back to live there for a time. 

 It is a powerful thing to watch God's words, His very breath over her, being lived out.

I am amazed at her faithfulness to her Father. I am amazed at her bravery to answer His call on her life.

I am in awe of the woman she has become.
And her smile...just radiant. She is stunning.

I am a proud, proud momma.

 

She is living there with the Romanian Master's Commission team and other CTI team members. She is loving it! She is ministering each day to the lost and the hurting. Truly being the hands and feet of Jesus.  She is also teaching a Sunday school class each week to a group of young Romanian children.  She is teaching them English. Her heart for children is such a beautiful thing that has unfolded over the past few years. She has become an amazing leader to the XMC team there.

 

I miss her. Terribly. Like, sobbing ugly cry terribly.

Communication is not always easy. She is on a 9 hour time difference and the few hours of the day that we are awake at the same time, doesn't always guarantee that we will get to chat.  Her schedule keeps her busy and mine, well, it has been crazy at times.

 

  I miss her sweet voice.  I miss the opportunity to just pick up the phone anytime I want and hear it. It's a luxury that I will no longer take for granted. Time is short. Oceans are far and wide.

And this momma misses her girl.

 

She returns home during the middle of September.

Oh, what a happy day that will be!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



 



Kaitlyn is now 18 years old.
She is in absolute beauty.

She graduated high school this past May.

 

She wowed the entire auditorium with her graduation speech.

She wowed me with her extreme courage to do it.

She was my first homeschool graduate. She has made the scary choice to homeschool, four years ago, worth every second. She was a phenomenal student.

 

As I type, Kaitlyn is boarding a plane to return home from Seattle.

She has been working for most of the summer, saving up for her college tuition.  She has been working with the Event Force team for Microsoft Corporation during the past month, which has kept her out of state in Florida and Washington.

 

This girl is something else. She is smart and brave and funny and simply loves life.

She has a genuine love for people and for serving the Lord. She wants to travel and disciple others. That just makes my heart so full.  It's refreshing to watch her grow into the world changer I knew she would always be.
 I get to be her momma. That's pretty awesome.

 

She is beginning to take the tiny steps to walk out on that branch and take the awaited leap out of the nest.  Her wings have been practicing their flight over the past few months.

She is ready and excited to move into her dorm/apartment and  start college in the Fall where she will attend XMC.

She will do great.  I see her nurturing all her roommates and cooking meals for them. She is a giver. Always has been.  I also see their apartment full of joy. Wherever she is, you'd better be sure there will be much laughter.

 

Me? Well, ya know... I'd say it gets easier the more children you let go of, but I'd be lying.

It is a beautiful, yet hard process. Sort of like labor.

The tearing away of their bodies from yours. But, this time, they take your heart with them. I'm working on getting used to the process. It's a good tearing away, but not an easy one.

 Maybe, when Isaac leaves home in 16 years or so, I'll be a pro at it. (Or maybe not.)

 

I look forward to hugging her neck later tonight when she gets home.

Her face and her laughter have been missed around the house.

They will be missed even more, come September.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mason is now 12 years old.

Or, as he says it, "practically 13".

 

 Out of all the kids, he has definitely changed the most.

 

He will be starting 8th grade in just a few short weeks.

 

In their group picture above, his face was all babyish and soft and still a little squishy.

 

Now?

Well, he has facial hair,  he's 5'7" and 197 pounds!

He grew into a young man overnight, I think.

 

His voice is changing, his face is maturing and he's passed his dad up in shoe size!

 

What the hoohah is happening here?

I was not prepared for this.

  I've watched my girls become young women, and now, I'm watching my sweet baby boy become a man. What a beautiful, yet heart wrenching sight.

He's just a baby!

(Well, he's my baby.)

 

He just returned yesterday from Tween Camp. He talked and talked and talked for the first 4 hours and then he just passed out, practically mid sentence, on the way home.  Camp tired. That's the best tired.

 

He told us last night over supper, that he was filled with the Holy Spirit during one of their evening chapel services. He said it was the weirdest and best feeling he's ever experienced.

 

I did good, y'all... holding back the tears, as he shared his life changing news in his newly deepening pubescent voice.
(I was freaking out on the inside with tears and joy and all that jazz!)

 

He's growing up...so, so fast.

 

My heart is trying to stay caught up with all of it.  I'm doing my best to flow with all of the changes going on with everyone.

 

Mason is a sweet, sweet young man. He's a good helper and a hard worker.

He's looking forward to his sister moving out in September, so that he can finally have the
"big room".

He's also looking forward to the day that he can grow a beard, like his dad.

I'm not ready for that.

Not. at. all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Isaac is almost 2 years old.

 

He is a busy toddler who insists that he should live outside...all of the time!
(Even though his momma is allergic to the planet. Thank you, Lord, for anthihistamines!)

 

He is talking really well and beginning to show his own little personality.

His giggle is possibly the best sound I have ever heard.

 It is extremely contagious. It's simply the best.

 

He loves shoes, our rooster "Popcorn", playing with his best friend, Ren, praying and saying "Amen" at every meal, and watching Curious George.  He gives the best hugs and recently learned to say, "I wuvv oo."

I. just. melt. like. buttah.

 

He has come so very far since a year ago, when he had heart surgery.

We've had a few of our 1 year checkups since surgery, and for the most part, he is in great health. He no longer has the symptoms he had before surgery and it has been a blessing watching him enjoy life without being sick.

 

His sensory issues are up and down.  We have some really good days for the most part, but when we have bad days, they are really rough...with a capital RROOOUUUGH!

God is teaching me much about myself and how to be a mother, during this season with Isaac.

Much, much.

You'd think since my oldest is 22, I'd have this mothering thing in the bag by now. Ummm, not exactly. God is showing me that my kids aren't the only ones that are growing, or that need to grow.

(But, that's for another blog post.)

 

We are, however, in the middle of new medical tests. He's had some mild, yet persistent symptoms, over the past 6 months or more. An abnormal test result revealed that he could have something serious going on.  We are awaiting results right now.  We have several doctors appointments for this coming week.  We are praying and praying to receive some answers soon, and of course, for a perfect healing in his little body.

 

Until then, I am taking in each moment and trying not to forget to breathe.

I am reminding myself that God has our best intentions in mind. He always has.

 

My husband said it best,

"God's in control. He always has been. I don't want to work against what He wants to do in us, so I've just learned to go with it. His control is better than mine has ever been."

 

So true. Such a wise man.

 

 

 

 

As for me and this handsome stud, we are approaching our 24th wedding anniversary.

(Geez, we are old!)

 

We are doing our best to hold onto this fast train that our kids have us on.

They are all such a delight and we've enjoyed every part of this ride with them. We are ready to have them all under the same roof again. That will be a very good day, indeed.

We look forward to the season ahead of us. We do our best to embrace everything as it comes and not take one moment for granted.

 

At times, we feel so undeserving of the life we get to live.

 

Who knew a girl from the projects and a Cajun boy from the bayou would end up so crazy and wonderfully blessed!

 

God has been so very good to us.


"At the end of the day, I have a life that's good."
 

 

These days, we are doing our best to stay connected with one another. Life, these past couple of years, has caused us to get into a continuous motion of survival. Situations, beyond our control, have blindsided us and knocked us out of wack a bit. Life will do that sometimes. It doesn't ask permission before it does. Stuff just comes.

In the midst of being tossed about, we have forgotten, at times, why we jumped on this crazy train in the first place.

All because we were deeply and passionately in love.

We just wanted to breathe each other in, all of the time.

We wanted to love and laugh with each other, forever.

 

"Through sickness and in health. Through good times and bad. Until death do we part."

 

We are working our way back to that place with one another and enjoying doing so.

I am thankful for God's strength that has kept us afloat. He is quick to grab us when we begin to sink. His hand definitely does uphold us.

 

Frankie is an extraordinary man and a great partner. He leads our family well.

He makes me laugh until I snort. I love him so very much. He's my boo.

 This journey would not be worth living without him.

 

 

So, folks, that is exactly ...where we are.

 

God continues to show me, that through it all, and wherever we are... He is there.

 He is there in the good, the bad, the easy, the struggle, the laughter, the tears, the failures, the victories and in the midst of all the changes.

 

It's the sweetest thing, seeing His love ebb and flow through every area of our lives.

 

Nothing goes unseen by Him and nothing is a surprise to Him.

 

He is always there, watching over us.

 

Where we are...He simply is.

 

 

Psalms 33:18

"But the Lord watches over all who honor Him and trust His kindness."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



When He leans.

 

Psalm 116:1-2
I love the LORD, for he heard my voice; he heard my cry for mercy. Because he turned his ear to me, I will call on him as long as I live.

 

 

Friends tell me all the time that I have what it takes to do this.

That God knew this sweet boy needed me. That he needed what only I could give him.

 

 

And each time I hear my friends say that...

I feel less than qualified.

 

In eight days, our little guy will undergo a major operation.

They will open his tiny little chest and repair an artery near his heart that has caused him more trouble than all of us expected.

 

And I wonder,

"How on earth am I prepared or qualified to handle this?"

 

I wonder, on some days, when I am so tired that I can't even remember the last time I bathed and sleeping becomes more important than eating, if God should have given this little angel to a twenty something-ball of energy-conquer the world-super girl...rather than me.

 

 

I question it...

where this invisible strength and ability that other people see stems from.

 

Your Grace abounds in deepest waters.

 

The past few days have been the hardest.

The questions I ask are the same but different.

"How do I do this, God? How do I hand my baby over to these doctors to perform this surgery? How?"
 

 

I try to wrap my mind around what is about to happen and I fall apart in tears at the drop of the smallest hat.

 

I'm in deep, real deep.

 

This is more than I can handle.

 

This is big, and I feel very small.

 

I wrote the struggle of this journey in a blog post a while back. It was at the beginning when we were just finding out about the health issues Isaac was having. At the time, all I could do was lean into God, because I felt my feet were failing me.

 

Around every corner they come...the tears.
They fall and they fall and I lean and I lean.

 The weakness takes over and I just want to fall over more and more.

I can barely feel my feet beneath me.
My heart is heavy.

 

That was almost seven months ago.

Since then, I have seen more than my momma's eyes and heart could imagine.

I have seen more needles poked into his soft fragile arms than I can count.

I have held him down screaming for the doctors to run test after test after test.

I have rocked a sick and tired baby for hours and hours and hours.
I have memorized the sound his heart beat makes as he has slept on my chest night after night.
I have laid my hands on his little body and prayed healing prayers until I have become breathless.

 

And today, as we finally have the answers we have searched for all these months, those feet...

have finally failed me and I feel as though I am falling flat on my face.

The energy to get back up...well, it's just not there.

 

My smallness gets even smaller.

 

But, that's when it happens...

The Leaning.

Not mine...but His.

 

 

Love that goes upward is worship;
 love that goes outward is affection;
 love that stoops is Grace.
~~Donald Grey Barnhouse

 

It's at the moment when I have collapsed in my weakness, that He leans into me.
  

As my chin falls to the floor, He lifts it up gently towards Him.

 

And He reminds me.

 

That He is all that I need.

That I don't have to be strong in every moment that comes.
That He is my help when I feel helpless.

Psalm 46:1
 God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in times of trouble.

Within His touch, my smallness doesn't seem to matter anymore...because His greatness is all I see.

His presence is all I feel.

 

  I begin to weep and say His name Jesus, over and over with grief ridden breathlessness.
Then He leans in,
 He hears
 and He knows.
 He knows my heart is heavy, worried and overflowing with love for this little boy.
He knows that I feel unqualified, unprepared, and less than enough.

 

 Psalm 34:18
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed.
 

He leans toward me, whispers softly into my heart the reason why I am qualified for this journey...

"Because you are mine and you were made for this."

And just as Sarah laughed when the Angel of The Lord told her she'd have a child in her old age, just as I laughed when God spoke those words to me... I giggle under my breath...
"Oh, God, You must know something that I don't."


Then I am reminded of the suitcase that is packed in my bedroom and sitting in the baby's crib.
I see it in my mind, the mountain of clothes and necessities being packed to be away from home with Isaac as he undergoes cardiac surgery.

Then I remember something else...

I've had a bag packed for over 7 months now.
I keep it tucked away in my closet. It's a small overnight bag. It has a set of clean clothes, toiletries and pajamas inside. Everything I need for an emergency trip is in that small bag.
We've visited the hospital so many times in this little boy's life, that I have kept a bag packed just in case. Just in case.
I tried many times to unpack it, but I could never get myself to do it.

He shows me that this suitcase represents my preparedness. It represents my readiness to go where He leads me. Its size represents how small I feel up against this giant we are about to face. But, still in all, it carries what I need. I may not have known why I packed the bag or where I was going, but I was ready to go and had everything I needed already inside of it.

I had everything I needed already inside of it.

I have everything I need already inside of me.
It's been tucked away for such a time as this.
And even though I feel small, there is greatness on the inside of me.
I carry everything I need inside of me.

God is that greatness.

God is that everything.

He is everything.

John 15:9
"For without me you can do nothing."

As this revelation becomes clearer and clearer to me, He leans in closer...
"You have Me. I am enough. I am all you need."

 

He is strong enough to hold me when I can not stand.
He is strong enough to hold me.
He is strong enough.

 He is enough.

 

He leans even closer, and His voice resonates in my heart as He speaks life into this baby...
"You don't hand him to them. You hand him to Me. I am enough for you and I am enough for him."

 

 I see Him stretching His arms out for me to collapse into them.
  I feel the warmth of His embrace as my tears mingle together as they fall at His feet.
I see the love in His eyes as He becomes ALL that I need and more.
I hear the comfort in His voice as He reminds me who He is. Because today, right now, in this very moment...
I need Him to be all that He says He is.


Luke 18:27
"But He said, 'What is impossible with men is possible with God.'"

When He leans...I don't feel so small anymore,
because His greatness is on the inside of me.

  He is everything I need.

He is enough.


Psalm25:5
"Lead my by your truth and teach me, for you are the God who saves me. All day long I put my hope in you."



Please be in prayer with us as we approach Isaac's day of surgery and believe with us...
 that God is more than enough.



I hope you'll join me.

 

 

I'm writing over at Joli Blog today. 

 

I'm sharing our amazing journey to this cutie-patootie...

 

 

 

I hope you'll join me!

 

He makes a way, where there is no way.

 

Be blessed!



Let them see You.

 

 "That is why waiting does not diminish us,

any more than waiting diminishes a pregnant mother.

(We are enlarged in the waiting.)

We don't see what is enlarging us.

But the longer we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful our expectancy.

The moment we get tired in the waiting, God's Spirit is right alongside helping us along.

If we don't know how or what to pray, it doesn't matter.

 He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of wordless sighs, our aching groans.

 He knows us far better than we know ourselves, knows our condition,

and keeps us present before God.

That's why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives

 of love for God is worked into something GOOD."

 ~~Romans 8:24-28

 

It's been a while since I have written in this space.

 

The last time I wrote about our little Isaac, we had just received some news about his health and we were leaning into God with every ounce of energy we had.

Things were hard. Very hard.

 

To be honest,

we are still in that place of leaning.

And some days, some nights...are still very hard.

There are some days, that I don't even know what to pray or how to pray.
Sometimes, my prayers to God are just tears that I finally get to shed in the bathtub, when I am all alone in the quiet.

It feels as though we've been waiting forever to figure out exactly what's been going on inside of Isaac's little body, causing the issues that he is having.

 

We've spent the past few months searching for answers to many questions.

 

Some we have found, and some we are still on the hunt for.

 As we continue to search, we watch our little guy struggling with things that we wish we could take from him.
 

As I was riding in the car the other day on the way to another doctor appointment for Isaac,

I found myself in that place of leaning again.
That place of needing God to hold me...

 I see Him stretching His arms out for me to collapse into them.
  I feel the warmth of His embrace as my tears mingle together as they fall at His feet.
I see the love in His eyes as He becomes ALL that I need and more.
I hear the comfort in His voice as He reminds me who He is.
Because today, right now, in this very moment...
I need Him to be all that He says He is.
 

As the tears ran down my cheek, I pleaded with God...

 

"Let today be the day. Let this be the day we find an answer. I am tired, Lord. For Isaac's sake, let us find an answer today. Be my strength for yet another day, another appointment."

 

I continued driving and crying and listening to music. As the tears continued to moisten my face, God reminded me of something He had told me a few months before.

 

It was a few weeks before Isaac was born. We were preparing to have a newborn baby after thinking our little family was complete. I was feeling a bit overwhelmed. I was praying and asking for God's guidance.

I had questions then too.
How will we do this?
How will we raise a newborn at our age?
How will we provide the needs for another child?
How?

God spoke to me in just a few simple words...

"Isaac will lack nothing."

As I drove, I thought of those words over and over until something finally clicked in my mind.

He will lack nothing.

He hasn't. He honestly hasn't.
God provided the way for us to get to Isaac. The path was a smooth one. One without flaw or without any detail left undone.
God has provided each and every little, or big thing that Isaac has needed, and much more.
He has provided everything that we have needed to care for him.
He has provided us with the strength to take on each day, each long night, each ER visit, each hospital stay, each specialist visit and each procedure.
He has given Isaac the strength to endure it all within his tiny little body.
He opened doors that were otherwise shut.
He has provided us with the most amazing community of friends to push us through, to encourage us along, to offer support, to pray and to love on us.

He has provided it all.

Isaac has lacked nothing.

So this tells me, that Isaac's body...lacks nothing also.

It lacks nothing.

nothing-not a thing

God knit Isaac's body together to His own perfection, inside his mother's womb,
 and he lacks nothing.

Not a thing.

That tells me that Isaac is already made whole. He is healed, inside and out.
 He is whole. Lacking nothing.

So, maybe we don't have the answers we search for. Maybe we don't know what is going on for sure with our little Isaac.

But whatever it may be...I know that he lacks nothing.

And that gives me peace. A very welcomed peace.

Psalm 16:5
Lord, You are my (Isaac's) portion and my (Isaac's) cup [of blessing]; You hold my (Isaac's) future.

I know that God has not left one thing out. Not one.

I know that God is his everything. He is our everything.
He is our portion. Our cup of blessing runneth over!

He is our answer. He is The Answer.
 

He is the way. He is the truth. He is the Life.
(John 14:6)

I've also realized, that even though I get weary going to doctor visit after doctor visit, each one is an opportunity to talk about Isaac's story and our journey to him.

It's an opportunity to give God praise for Isaac!
 It's an open door to share our miraculous adoption journey with each and every person that we come in contact with.

And believe me, everyone has asked how or why we chose to adopt a brand new baby at "our age".

It's been amazing to share the great things God has done, everywhere we go.
With everyone we meet.

It's been a chance for us to share with others the endless blessings behind obedience to God.

Because there are many!

It's a chance for us to let people know that this was not our doing at all, but all God's doing.

It's a chance for people to look into Isaac's sweet little face and see how God has detailed his life in such a beautiful way. Just like He has detailed all of our lives.

Isaac has totally rocked our world! In the best way possible!
 He has been such a precious gift to our family. Our family has grown tremendously closer because of Isaac.  I don't want to focus on what's wrong with Isaac anymore. I want to draw my energy towards everything that is right with him.

He is beautifully and wonderfully made by a Father who loves him!
That is worth praising God for!

Psalm 9:1
    I will praise you, O LORD, with all my heart; I will tell of all your wonders.


"God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in Him."
  ~~John Piper


I know that this season of unanswered questions is part of our story.
 It's part of Isaac's story.
 It's God's story and He is writing it through us.
I know that God is working everything out for Isaac's good. For our good.

For that, I am humbled and grateful.
 In that, I find peace and contentment for exactly where we are.
I trust God's heart concerning Isaac. I trust His heart concerning me.
I trust His heart concerning our family, and the lot that He has given us.

The idea that He would use Isaac's little life, my life, our life...to bring Him GLORY, is just amazing!
It's. just. amazing.

How can I not be changed by that?

I pray,
when I find myself weary,
when I begin to doubt or fear,
that I remember this...
 and that I be forever changed by it.
By this entire journey.

"...let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked our for us."
~~Hebrews 12:1b


We will get the answers we search for in due time, and we know that God's timing is always perfect.  Until then, Jesus is the only answer we need.

The only One.


You've got to look for the glory and hunt for the grace and seize beauty in ugly and laugh brave and defiant in the dark and you can lose everything but nothing can steal Jesus and He is enough.
~~Ann Voskamp


This is my prayer today,
that behind every examining room door,
 doctor's office,
 procedure room,
every question about our journey asked,
or within each waiting room conversation...
people see God.

That they see Him. Really see Him.
Not me, not Isaac...but only the Glory that our lives bring to Him.

Let them see You, God. Let them see You.

Let them see You.


Psalm 27:13
I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living.

Psalm 31:24

 So be strong and courageous,
    all you who put your hope in the Lord!