Live Art.fully

Building Community

2012-02-02T12:25:00.000-08:00

There are several things that are important to me in life and with this blog. One of those things is authenticity. I want to be real, without being negative, and I want to represent only the truth, not a fake version of myself or my life.

Another thing is that I want Live Art.fully to be a community, not just a platform from which I write.

So in the interest of ensuring the development and continuity of those things, I thought we might do a {Tell Me Your Story} post. I would love to know more about YOU (if you are reading this, then yes, I mean you, especially if you are a lurker and haven't commented here before), and I want you to know me.

If you have questions about me, my illness, my life, my art or writing, my family, etc... please feel free to ask in the comments.

And I would love to know a few things about you. So please share:

Why do you read/follow Live Art.fully?

Where where you raised and/or where are you currently living?

What makes you come alive, and do you take time for it on a regular basis?

What's your favorite snack?

What's your favorite movie or TV show?

And please, if you are living with chronic pain or illness, share a little bit about that and how it effects your life.

I love the idea of Live Art.fully being a place where friendships begin or strengthen, and where we can encourage each other. If we were to meet for tea or coffee, what would you tell me about your story?

Evening Hours

2012-01-31T11:58:00.000-08:00

we tuck in little girls and fulfill requests like
more light, less light, music, fresh water.
we hug, kiss, pray.

we close the door with "goodnight little girls":
"mama loves you. tomorrow is ballet and we'll make art," i say on a monday night.
"i love you, you can wake me up in the morning and we'll play Wii," he says on a saturday.

there may have been baths and hair braiding first,
a pile of giggling in the recliner over Junie B. Jones
or chapters of The Jesus Storybook Bible, Mama reading through grateful tears.

we may be at the end of what we have to give,
or we may reluctantly tuck them in,
wishing there was more time in the pockets of today.

the evening comes every 24 hours
and it looks different, yet the same
because no matter what, there is love,

always love

and the winner is........

2012-01-30T13:30:00.000-08:00

Sheila wins the DaySpring giveaway for $20 off a $20 or more purchase. I will be contacting Sheila with the code and details.

Thanks everyone for participating and congratulations to Sheila!

Using Your Words: Sending Cards to Encourage a Heart

2012-01-23T13:14:00.000-08:00

{my little 5 year-old writing a Happy Birthday card to her sister}

I have always loved writing notes and trying to encourage people. When I was little, whenever we would get together with my cousins, I would always rope my (just younger) boy cousins into creating cards and notes with me and then we would hide them for our moms, aunts, etc.... to find. We once hid one in my aunt's mini-van gas tank (not in the tank, just tucked in there behind the door, so that next time she had to get gas, she would find encouragement. Yes, so very sweet of us....

I am a big fan of cards and love to mail them. I could spend hours in card stores, and have.

So when (in)courage gave me the opportunity to blog about DaySpring cards in exchange for some of their beautiful collections, I didn't think twice.

The afternoon that FedEx pulled up to my house and the delivery driver handed me a box was a good day indeed.

I received these beautiful cards -- the So True collection, designed to encourage women in your life. This collection of ten GORGEOUS cards (I hesitated to mail any I loved them THAT much), includes cards for birthdays, thinking of you, encouragement, praying for you, and general friendship. Each card has a hand-made element included like a hand torn layer. They are truly above and beyond what I expected and I am sure I will purchase this collection when I've run out. Also, did I mention the envelopes are a recycled looking brown? LOVE. I also received a pack of Thank You cards and a beautiful card organizer.

I have been a fan of DaySpring for many many years, but I have to say -- the quality of these cards is truly impressive. These are just fabulous.

I sent one to a friend who has recently experienced a devastating loss. I earmarked one for my aunt's birthday and one for a friend battling cancer. I can't wait to drop one in the mail to a friend with chronic illness and to a friend of little kids who is still in that "in-the-trenches-survival" mode. (Who am I kidding, I still feel like that sometimes too.) I also have one set aside to send to a friend who is quietly loyal and supportive of me, my health, my journey and all of my creative pursuits. Everyone should have a friend like her.

You never know how God can use your words to uplift and encourage a heart.

If you're not a card person but you adore the So True collection designs, check out the entire collection, which includes calendars, mugs and journals.

So I was lucky to receive this collection free in exchange for my honest review, but it's your lucky day too, because (in)courage and DaySpring are offering one of YOU $20 off a DaySpring order of $20 or more. So we're going to do a Giveaway!!!! To enter, leave a comment to this post (and maybe share about Live Art.fully on Facebook, Twitter, or your blog, if you're feeling generous). My girls and I will do a drawing on Monday, January 30th and post the winner. I will then get in touch with the winner via email with the code DaySpring gave me. When using the code, the winner will be responsible for shipping charges. The code expires on 12/31/2012 so you have almost a year to use it.

So are you in? Let's use our words to bless someone this week.

Physical Therapy & Finding the Balance with Ankylosing Spondylitis

2012-01-19T01:43:00.000-08:00

Several months ago I wrote a blog post outlining my current condition with my hips and walking. My post ended with a declaration that I would keep fighting to find the balance. I've been meaning to write a follow up to that post, to tell you what's happened since then and what I know now that I didn't know then.

In that post, I had a lot of questions. I wanted to walk outdoors for exercise and to help my joints. I discovered very quickly that didn't help, but caused a spike in pain, fever and limping. I had a lot of questions about the condition of my hip joints and at that time was dreaming frequently about limping, hip replacement surgery, and treatment options for Ankylosing Spondylitis, the form of inflammatory, autoimmune arthritis I have that attacks my spine and joints.

I wanted to know if my hip joints were damaged.
I wanted to know if I pushed through the flare ups caused by walking, if I was damaging my joints or helping them.
I wanted to know what might be in my future, as far as mobility. Would I need a cane or wheelchair, would I need hip replacement surgery?

Since that post, I have had a CT scan of my pelvis and hips, a physical therapy evaluation, and 3.5 months of weekly (sometimes twice weekly) physical therapy. I have some answers and insights now, and the dreams about hip replacements have stopped.

I learned from my scan results that my hip joints are still in good condition and that my SI (or sacroiliac) joints (the joints that connect your hip joints to your lumbar spine) are showing damage.

I learned from my physical therapy evaluation that my SI joints were extremely unstable. I was walking very sloppily, my joints too loose in their sockets.

I learned that my hypermobility (fancy word for joints that are way too flexible) on its own would eventually cause problems, but paired with Ankylosing Spondylitis will increase and speed up the damage to my joints.

I learned that with the level of inflammation in my body, any extra walking (especially if I am already in a flare, having hip pain or limping) is not advised and will damage my joints.

This was and continues to be, very helpful information for me. I began to work hard in PT to strengthen the muscles that surround and support my joints. I worked to improve my posture so that if my spine fuses into a locked position, I will be less likely to fuse stooped over. I did exercises at home. I faithfully went to my PT appointments in all kinds of weather, limping or not, with a fever or not, exhausted or well, to tell the truth, I'm almost always exhausted.

I strengthened my muscles. I improved the stability of my joints. I improved my posture (but I'm still working on that and likely will be for the rest of my life). I had evaluations of my shoulders, spine, chest bones.

I 'graduated' from physical therapy about a week ago. I adored my therapist and will miss her.

So how am I now? I still limp sometimes, but when I walk more than usual (say at a mall or Costco), I am less likely to be limping or limping as dramatically afterward. I still have hip pain, but I have less sleep disturbance due to hip pain. My hips, which had referred pain from my SI joints, and pain from inflammation in the actual hip joint, are causing me less worry. You can no longer find me Googling "Hip Replacement Surgery."

I still have pain in pretty much every joint in my body -- from my jaw to my toes. I still limp sometimes. I have spine pain every day. If I use too much energy, walk too much, or am on my feet for too long, I pay for it. I still run low-grade fevers fairly often, especially when I am in a flare, or have been pushing too hard.

I cannot walk for exercise, as much as I crave my old routine.

The ideal forms of exercise for me are low, to no, impact. That means mild exercise in the water, home physical therapy program designed specifically for me, etc. I cannot and/or should not walk much, run, jump, skip, hop, play most sports.

I can deal with most of that, but I gotta tell ya -- I MISS WALKING.

If you can walk, will you do me favor? Will you go for a walk sometime in the next week or two for me and take a picture of yourself? Will you post it in a blog post and link up in the comments of this post, or post it to the Live Art.fully Facebook page? Will you breathe deeply and look for things like birds, sunsets or sunrises, black tree silhouettes against sky, clouds, or natural bodies of water? Will you take a picture of any beauty you find? Will you enjoy your walk for me? I would love to hear about your walk through beauty.

So where do I go from here? I keep doing my home exercises, I keep working on my posture {STAND TALL!}, I breathe deeply to expand my chest and rib cage regularly to hopefully prevent that from fusing. I try and listen to my therapist and work on energy conservation and resting and asking for help and accepting help.

And maybe, when spring comes, I will swallow my pride and get a wheelchair and let my family take me on their walks. Someday my disease process may run its course and allow me to walk as much as I want again. I am hopeful for that. But for now, in order to take care of my body the way it is currently, I will try not to damage it further by causing it extra wear and tear.

I will live with hope. I will watch my daughters' learn the graceful art of ballet. I will stand tall. I will breathe deeply and keep smiling, because life is beautiful and every moment is a gift. And yes, as always, I will keep fighting to find the balance.

Eight Candles

2012-01-18T10:52:00.000-08:00

you make art

you dance

you love without condition

(like so many other things, you got that from your daddy)

may you always see life creatively

may you always express yourself

may you be loved as well as you love others

happy birthday to my firstborn

eight years old today

hannah elizabeth

a little girl who taught, and teaches, me

so much about life and beauty and
how to love with my whole heart

Staying Awake to Life

2012-01-15T16:01:00.000-08:00

My word this year is more active than last year's. Last year I chose Still. This year I choose AWAKE!

I want to stay awake to the moments. I want to wake up and not just dream dreams but take steps to make them reality.

So far so good this year....

I have dreamed of enrolling my oldest daughter in ballet classes since she was about two years old. She is turning eight this week and she and her sister will attend their fourth ballet class.

From the age of five, I have loved reading. I read voraciously through my childhood and when I stopped to take a breath, around the age of twelve, I realized I was also a writer. For years I have dreamed of writing a book. In 2007 I started one. I began to tell a story about a man who experienced heartbreaking loss and unconventionally learned to love again. That man is my late grandfather. I write in fits and starts, around other dreams, goals and responsibilities. Last summer I was on a roll. This year I dove back in, and finally chose a title, after 4.5 years and many working titles. I emailed a NY Times best-selling memoir author and teacher. I got serious about telling this story.

This year, I want to learn to stay awake to life: to invest in what will help us grow; to continue to capture the moments and the beauty all around; to say YES to life!

Christmas Moments

2012-01-07T17:07:00.000-08:00

It seems Christmas season rushes past faster and faster every year. I tried to stay awake to the moments this year (not easy with chronic pain and fatigue) to take a snapshot (literal or mental), to jot down something the girls said, to remember how that mug of peppermint hot chocolate tasted and how the sound of the music and the glow of the lights came together to make the magic I look forward to every year.

Now that it is over, the lights and ornaments packed away in their Rubbermaid bins, the naked tree discarded behind the house, the cupboard absent of the mugs sporting snowmen, doves, holly berries.... Now that it is over, I want to look back and remember some of our Christmas moments.

There was the annual Sunday morning that begins with pumpkin pancakes and coffee and the buzz of beginning-of-the-season excitement. We went to the tree farm and made small talk with the owners and chased little girls through tree acreage and snapped pictures. I kept reminding us all to "think small" because we have a little house, practically a cottage, and every year we end up with a tree that is far too big and Jonathan has to trim it significantly to get it to fit. The Think Small mantra worked and when we got our tree home it was the perfect size for our cottage... not too big, not too small, but just right.

There was the shopping trip where we found the perfect matching Christmas jammies for 5 and 7 year old sisters. There was that moment in the girls' clothing section of Target when I closed my eyes and breathed gratitude for my family and for Christmas and the meaning behind it, and felt the anticipation of the coming weeks and all the precious moments we would share and the memories those moments would make.

There was the afternoon that my older daughter and I went to see a local production of The Nutcracker and I sat in a flip-down red auditorium seat and ignored the pain as best I could and observed the art of ballet and the wonder in my daughter's eyes.

There was the moment, later that night, that we created a new tradition -- the First Annual Sisters' Christmas Tree Slumber Party, where we set up sleeping bags on couch cushions as near to the glowing Christmas Tree as possible, and we put on our pajamas and got cozy and watched Christmas movies and drank peppermint hot cocoa and giggled until hours past bedtime, and then I tucked them in and stayed quiet at the other end of our little cottage while they fell asleep to Josh Groban's singing and the smell of noble fir.

There was the moment before Christmas Vespers, where I curled ringlets into blonde hair and the moments later that night where Hannah and five other little girls represented angels in a live nativity.

There was the moment when we left Christmas vespers and I said, "I have a fever," and I got home and I did, and I could barely limp down the little hall to my bed that night. But those aren't the moments I want to remember, they are just the moments I want to rise above. However, if someone with a chronic condition has any tips for how to make a magical, memorable Christmas for kids without going into a flare, I'm all ears.

There was Christmas church wearing red and black all together and standing in the front of the church with my parents and my daughter and singing "Go Tell it on the Mountain" with a big smile on my face.

There was time with my parents and my sister and good food and moments all hovered around the island laden with Mom's traditional goodies like fudge and English toffee, while we snacked like happy vultures and joked.

There were many Christmas movies and many Christmas CDs and the Gingerbread house and the cookie baking.

There were many resting moments where we pair a heating pad and recliner with snuggling time.

There was the moment we captured when Natalie helped Daddy prepare Christmas dinner yams.

There was Christmas day when the four of us gathered around a candle lit dinner, and I snuck a bite of yams off Natalie's plate (because they were yummy and I wanted to see if she'd notice), and she non-nonchalantly leaned over and very quietly and sweetly whispered, "Can't you use your manners?" and twelve days later, randomly on a Friday afternoon, she again asked, "Mom, next year when we are eating Christmas dinner, do you think you could remember your table manners and not snitch food off my plate?"

There was the ear-piercing scream when Hannah unwrapped the Veggie Tales DVD she wanted, and the smile that could split a face when Natalie pulled a bunny Pillow Pet from a package.

Presents are fun, but for me this year, the best gifts were the moments that became memories.

There may always be pain, but that's no reason to let the joy go. On the contrary, it's a great reason to fight all the harder to find the joy, create special moments, and capture them into memories.

This Year

2012-01-02T10:00:00.000-08:00

in 2012 I want to...

Celebrate the Moments, Release the Expectations

2012-01-01T14:35:00.000-08:00

It's been about a month since I was here last, typing in this space, and I've missed it. The month of December is overwhelming in almost every way, and add in a chronic illness that flares and it becomes quite a challenge. Having said that, I find it the most magical time of the year and I had a great Christmas season. I will share some of our moments with you soon.

For now though, we are starting a new year and I am trying to choose my One Little Word for 2012. I started this tradition in 2010 with the word Nest. I chose that year to focus on our home and family. I wanted to create a cozy, warm, artful home and focus on nourishing my little chicks.

In 2011, I chose Still. I was diagnosed in 2010 with a chronic autoimmune disease, and I wanted to remember in 2011 to slow down, to rest (both physically and mentally), and to remember that no matter what, God still has a plan and a purpose for me.

This year I want to continue to learn how to celebrate the moments while letting go of expectations. I don't want to live on auto-pilot. I don't want to do things because I should do them or because they are expected. I want to spend my days on things that my family has chosen and implemented because we feel they are worthwhile.

I want to slow down in the moments -- unlearn multitasking every moment and remember that sometimes multitasking doesn't lead to getting more done, it just leads to frenzy and not really being able to focus.

This year I want to practice the art of being present in each moment. I want to give the person or task in each moment the undivided attention it deserves. Life is a gift. Every moment of life is a gift and it won't be back. We spend it while we live it -- whether we are present and absorbing it, or wishing it away, or too busy to notice it slipping by. I am still trying to determine the best word to use for that. Any thoughts?

So are you choosing a word for the new year? I would love to hear about it in the comments. If you've written a blog post about it, feel free to link to your post in a comment. And if you haven't chosen a word, but have something you are resolving to do or improve at, tell us about it. I'd love to hear where your heart and head is as you are starting your new year.

A Hunting We Will Go

2011-12-04T23:21:00.001-08:00

Hello Monday and all of your mercies!

We crammed our weekend full to overflowing with celebrating a certain little girl who recently turned five, and our annual tradition of pumpkin pancakes and tree hunting merriment. Fun all around.

I am lucky to have married a man who LOVES Christmas. We are celebrating our tenth married Christmas this year, and we have some wonderful traditions:

We start in November with getting matching Christmas PJs for the girls, four personalized stockings hung by the chimney, pumpkin pancakes before tree hunting, and the list goes on. We love Christmas as both a time to focus on Jesus, and a time to be together, make memories as a family and to enjoy the wonder of the season.

Yesterday we hunted for the perfect tree, but everyday I want to remember to hunt for the beauty around me, to sniff out the graces, and to give thanks for every gift, large and small.

{Want to hunt graces with me today?}

hot coffee on cold mornings

little girls making paper snowflakes

folding warm laundry

friendship

warm afghans

lights on a tree

fuzzy socks

physical therapy

little girl tights hanging to dry

a clean house

five years of life for my youngest

my husband, my friend

texting with my Dad

people to love

pumpkin pancakes

strength for every day

new stickers for journaling

{linking up with Ann Voskamp's One Thousand Gifts and Lisa Leonard's Hello Monday!}

The Birthright

2011-11-28T13:27:00.000-08:00

The same oriental tea set that would sit unnoticed at a garage sale is priceless in my eyes. It is adopted as a precious possession because of whose it was.

My grandfather served in the Korean War and brought back this tea set imprinted with silver dragons for my grandmother.

She was priceless to me. Not just my grandmother, but someone I understood and someone who understood me. My father's mother: a soul mate born in the 1930s, a friend.

The year I became a wife, she died of a massive stroke.

So when what was hers becomes mine, it is precious. It is precious because it was hers, because it was passed down to me.

Her dining room table and chairs, her wooden hutch that holds my wedding crystal and our homeschooling books and art supplies, her odd little tomato pitcher, the framed picture of us together at my wedding (the last time I saw her in this life), and now her dragon tea set and a pair of white cups and saucers, covered with dancing red snowflakes.

These things are not her legacy. Her legacy is imprinted in me -- like blood it runs through me. Her legacy to love God and love people, to serve with His hands, and to pray for and encourage those she encountered.

I sit late at night, flipping through the pages of a worn Bible that smells like antique library books; a Bible that was hers, and before that, her mother's. I see her tiny script in the margins, TYF!, Thank you Father. I hear her voice giving thanks for the things He gives, and picture her hands receiving, even when the gift doesn't seem good.

Her things are not her legacy. They are just things. Her legacy is the rich wisdom and love with which she graced her children and grandchildren.

Without knowing Whose I am, perhaps I sit unnoticed and am passed by, without worth. Without knowing Who loves and care for me, maybe I am unlovable.

It is because of His blood I am precious. It is because of my spiritual birthright that I am a treasure. And it is because I know the Giver that I can learn to accept what is given, whether I would choose it or not.

Giving Thanks: The Good and The Bad

2011-11-28T10:27:00.000-08:00

{Savoring the Sweet Moments with my Youngest}

Thanksgiving is one of my very favorite holidays because it is a day to focus on all we have for which to be grateful.

One of the reasons I love Ann Voskamp and her book One Thousand Gifts and her blog A Holy Experience, is her emphasis on giving thanks for all we have. But this is not just a fluffy, cotton-candy-and-rainbows giving thanks. Oh no... this is the learning how to give thanks for every specific little gift, and for all of the hard things too, so that my life becomes a form of worship back to God, every breath a prayer.

If you are reading and you are thinking, You have no idea what I'm struggling with right now. You must have it good, you are right. I have no idea what you're struggling with, my friend. And I do have it good. I have all I need and more. I am truly blessed.

And there are hard things too...

pain
stress
worries
illness
exhaustion
loss
and the most recent, a terrible diagnosis for someone I love very much {please pray}

So because of the hard, I must keep counting the good. I must keep noticing it and taking stock of it, propping it on the shelves in my heart and pulling it to the forefront so it doesn't escape my sight.

Today, I keep taking stock of my Monday Mercies.

her blonde cornsilk hair and peaches & cream complexion
her long legs and Mama-like brown hair & another year of her life to celebrate
another day to notice and to worship
opportunities to speak love and encouragement
a second cup of coffee
clean sheets
colored Christmas lights strung across our little house
sunshine, God streaming across wooden floors
two hands, despite the swelling and aching
two legs, despite the occasional limping
a washer and a dryer, for recycling dirty into clean
music
a new prayer journal
spiral bindings to gather and hold, a pen to note and remember
the man that married me

Will you join me? Just start today. Start on a Post-it, if you like...

Therapy for a Spine and a Heart

2011-11-21T12:24:00.000-08:00

Some mornings, my husband turns my heating pad on before he starts his day, so that as I continue to sleep, the moist heat will start to soak into my spine which has stiffened through the night. If I don't take the time to thaw my spine every morning, to use some heat, a hot shower and gentle stretching, my spine will be less flexible and more painful all day.

The joints in my spine may someday fuse into one solid bone; that is the proverbial mission of Ankylosing Spondylitis, the form of inflammatory arthritis I have that attacks the spine and other joints.

As unpleasant as this sounds, surely there are worse things.

What if my heart gets stiff? What if it becomes inflexible, cold, seized up? What if I don't take the time to thaw out my heart? What if bitterness or resentment inflame?

To allow His warmth to press into my heart, I must shower it with awareness, service, compassion and thanksgiving. I must learn to see with His eyes and serve with His hands and continually count the ways He loves and cares for me.

If I don't thaw out my heart, it may eventually fuse cold, hard, unyielding.

I must take care to ensure that doesn't happen.

I must train it, like I train my spine to stand tall and to gently bend in physical therapy. I do home exercises, standing tall and making my spine make contact with the wall. This is painful.

I must also do my heart exercises. I must exercise it to care, to serve, and always to show compassion; to keep it in contact with His heart.

If I work daily with my spine, it may not fuse. If I work daily with my heart, it surely can't.

daily gratitude to thaw a heart:

little girls in horsey pajamas

tomato soup for a rainy day

bread in the bread machine

electricity for a heating pad

His messages

music, such a gift

physical therapy to train a spine

small group Bible study to train a heart

a warm bed

unceasing grace for every day

cinnamon muffins hot from the oven

her 7 year-old voice singing, "When We All See Jesus"

her 4 year-old kisses

My Wish List

2011-11-14T23:25:00.000-08:00

I long to inspire.

I want to write and publish.

I want my words to be healing and a gift.

I want to love my community well and to be loved well in return.

I want to be authentic, not fake or pretentious.

I want to never stop looking for the beauty around me.

I want to make art, write poetry, read literature and great memoirs, bake things that make our house smell like a home; not limit myself or put my talents in boxes.

I want to be a remarkable mother.

I want to be grateful, not resentful.

I hope that by sharing my loss journey, other bereaved mothers will feel less alone.

I dream of a storybook childhood for my daughters, as they are my storybook dream.

I want to light a spark in them: a thirst to create, to read, to love well, to be kind, to express themselves, to learn and be curious and observant; always to grow.

I want to creatively document this one wonderful life I am given.

What do you want?

Story Made Beautiful

2011-11-13T15:21:00.000-08:00

I want to thank you for being here with me Thursday, as I used some of my courage to not only remember our baby {that is so easy to do} but to speak his name.

Jordan.

Your comments and your tears were a gift, and I thank you.

6 years. Shocking that it has been that long, but as you know if you've read this story before, I had a healthy child afterward, in the midst of some years which are easiest to describe as the years of Perpetual Operations.

Not only was she healthy, she was hearty -- born pink, crying, 9 pounds and 8 ounces of second chance.

Today she is tall, lanky, and turning FIVE this month. A "rainbow baby", or baby after a loss, she is my breathing representation of grace; a symbol of God's presence in my story.

We named her Natalie Kate.

Having children was my life-long dream and there were a few times when I thought it might not come true. Life threw obstacles. And yet, here they are, these little women, my dreams come to life.

So humbling. So humbling that He saw fit to allow me to be a mother, their mother. So humbling that it worked out, in spite of, despite, the obstacles.

I am so grateful. Soaked through to the bone with gratitude. This was what I yearned for, and they are here. Not all three, no...

Not all three, and that is hard.

But these two, Hannah and Natalie, they are here and they are breathing and growing, and I breathe thanksgiving and grow faith.

He has made my story beautiful, even with not-so-beautiful ingredients.

Breathing gratitude today.

A Baby with a Name

2011-11-10T13:04:00.000-08:00

{our sweet firstborn, touched by loss at a young age}

Six years ago today I went to the hospital, pregnant with a baby with no heartbeat. Some hours later I went home to my pig-tailed firstborn, not quite two years old, no longer expecting our second, a baby we were going to name Benjamin Jack or Sierrah Grace.

Some weeks later, in the beginning stages of grief, Jonathan and I decided to name our lost baby. I have never shared that name publicly. It has felt too personal to me, too sacred.

We named our sweet little one Jordan.

Jordan means "Descendant" which I loved because this was our child, whether we got to keep him (?) or not. Jordan can be a boy name or a girl name, and although we have always felt our baby was a boy, we have no proof of that and no way to know.

I loved that it is a Hebrew name, just as Hannah is. I liked that even in death, they shared something.

I also loved that this baby, so wanted and so loved, had a name that began with the same letter as both of his parents.

So there's no birth certificate, no hospital baby bracelet, no ink-stamped little footprints, no announcement picture. But there's another child in my heart. Not just Hannah and Natalie, but Hannah, Jordan and Natalie. I have two living children; two here to hold and to raise, and a third I hold in my heart.

Jordan Lynn: carried in my womb for 10 weeks; carried in my heart for a lifetime.

Never forgotten, not for a day. Particularly remembered every year on this date, November 10th.

Relearning to Simplify

2011-11-04T15:26:00.000-07:00

"The average woman today, I believe, would do well to appraise her interests, evaluate the activities in which she is engaged, and then take steps to simplify her life, putting things of first importance first, placing emphasis where the rewards will be greatest and most enduring, and ridding herself of the less rewarding activities."

{Belle S. Spafford}

I believe that in order to live a life of balance and joy, we must determine what our priorities are and then guard the space around them, so that we can attend to them well.

My main priorities are my marriage, my faith, my daughters, my home and home life, my family, friends and community, writing, journaling and Live Art.fully. These are the things and people I live for. They comprise such a full life that I must be careful to limit the other areas where I expend energy.

I am relearning this week how to safeguard my time and energy so that I can live and love better.

What are your priorities? What measures do you take to safeguard them?

What I Want You to Know: A Letter to My Daughter

2011-10-31T13:40:00.000-07:00

I want you to know that I love being your mother
From the moment you were nestled into my arms the night you were born, I knew you were exactly where you were meant to be -- in our family. You have been my Little Love since that moment; my {literal} dream come true. I have taken, very seriously, my role to love and nurture and guide you. I have done a good job and I have done a bad job. I have succeeded and failed. I have tried to love you well. You have taught me right back how to love well. Because you, Sweet Girl, you love people well.

I want you to know that I love being your teacher
Sometimes it's challenging and sometimes it's downright frustrating, but I love those moments when your eyes light up because you've worked a multiplication problem in your head and come up with the right answer or when you quickly read through several sentences before realizing how well you're reading. I love watching you paint and create art. I love watching you slip away into a world all your own, where you mix colors into new hues that match the ones you hold in your dreamy mind. I love watching you use two or three paintbrushes at a time, because that's how eager you are to create.

I want you to know that I cherish my memories of your first few years
when you and I had lots of one-on-one time.
I have such fond memories of those years of nursing you, rocking you, feeding you, bathing you, dressing you, playing with you, snuggling you, reading to you, taking you for walks and watching you grow and learn and fall in love with the world around you.

I want you to know that I love watching you be a big sister
Sometimes you get overzealous and sometimes you act before you think, but mostly... mostly you are protective and sweet, compassionate and caring, adoring and a great friend to Natalie. You are a great friend to me, too.

I want you to know that I have fabulous ideas of how to teach you and how to raise you and how to ensure you feel as special as you are
Sometimes my energy runs out before I can make those ideas into realities, and I hate that. So we learn to modify. Maybe today I can't take you for a walk to the playground, but I can sit in a lawn chair in the backyard and watch you swing high into the air, your corn silk hair flying out behind you like streamers on a bicycle. Maybe I can't bake cookies today but I can sit with you and read Sarah, Plain and Tall and watch you fall in love with the characters of Caleb and Anna and Seal, the cat.

I don't know what God plans for marvelous you, Hannah, but I know they are marvelous plans.

I just want to take this moment to thank you for what you have taught me and for all the love you have brought to my life.

Monday Mercies: 10.24.11

2011-10-24T15:41:00.000-07:00

Despite a cranky hip and a painful morning, there are no shortage of Monday Mercies today:

beautiful fall sunshine streaming in

leaves swirling down

this song by owl city. its intro feels like possibility

baking loaves of pumpkin bread

and a batch of peanut butter cookies

time with my girls

a phone chat with a friend

a new book in the mail

the aroma of cinnamon and cloves wafting from the oven

What are your Monday Mercies?

Not Good Enough vs Just Right

2011-10-18T15:01:00.000-07:00

As hard as I try to convince myself otherwise, there are going to be some days in which I can't succeed like I want to; success won't look like I envision. I won't be able to make my life look like what I think it should. It will be exhaustion and low-grade fever and pain that's hard to bear.

It will be a cottage full of Mama Bear and Baby Bears in pajamas at nearly 3 p.m.

That's chronic pain for you. That's chronic illness.

It will also be a chance to slow down that we wouldn't otherwise take; a chance to wear fuzzy pink slippers and bathrobes and pile into a big bed that's just the right size and read a big pile of storybooks.

It will be time to learn some Spanish. Time to discuss manners, sibling relationships, trying new foods, the science in the natural world.

It will be time for cuddling close -- for a 4 year-old head on my shoulder, and a 7 year-old hand, tanned brown from summer sun, resting on me.

It will be time slowed down.

And this evening when Papa Bear comes home from work, the house may not be clean, the table may have gone unused for schooling, but we will be calm and loving, and we will have learned and grown today, and we will be a little bit closer for this time we told to slow down and the hours we cuddled close and knit our hearts together.

Isn't that the success I envision?

Monday Mercies: 10.17.11 {No Greater Mercy}

2011-10-17T13:38:00.000-07:00

“There is no greater mercy that I know of on earth than good health except it be sickness; and that has often been a greater mercy to me than health…

It is a good thing to be without a trouble; but it is a better thing to have a trouble, and know how to get grace enough to bear it.” {C.H. Spurgeon}

Pondering this quote today and recognizing Truth. Thanks to Ann Voskamp for including this quote in her post.

My Monday Mercies...

sunlight spilling in on wooden floors
little girl legs in aqua tights, tucked into pink furry slippers
the learning, even when it's hard
the teaching, even when it's hard
jobs in this economy
flour for bread-making
washing machine to spin linens clean
pillow & heating pads to help combat pain
stacks of warm sweet laundry
sweet little faces
hands that hurt less today
marriage and partnership
autumn-hued leaves

What are your mercies today?

National Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness Day

2011-10-15T13:49:00.000-07:00

Today we remember, on a national scale, the babies gone too soon due to miscarriage, stillbirth, infant death, SIDS...

If you are one effected by a loss like this, please share a bit of your story in the comment section. It can be just a date or the name of your little one. You are not alone!

What's Next in This Chapter?

2011-10-13T14:27:00.000-07:00

After years of slavery, the people of Israel have escaped from captivity in Egypt and run into a big problem -- the Red Sea. The Red Sea lies between them and their freedom. Their hearts sink. There's no way for them to get through it or around it. They feel defeated.

But then they call out to God, questioning His plan.

"Why did you bring us out here to die in the wilderness?"

And Moses tells them:

"Don't be afraid. Just stand still and watch the Lord rescue you today. The Egyptians you see today will never be seen again. The Lord Himself will fight for you. Just stay calm."

{You probably know what happens next. God performs a miracle. He uses the Israelites' faith.}

He instructs them to get moving. To pick up their staffs and raise their hands over the sea and walk in.

So they do.

Let's just stop there a minute. This whole story could've ended another way. The Israelites might not have listened. They might not have used their faith, listened to God, and walked forward. The Egyptians would've caught up with them and re-captured them.

But they listened. They did what God was instructing them to do. They held onto their faith and their staffs and they moved forward.

And God performed a miracle. He divided the Red Sea into two parts, with an aisle of dry land between two mighty walls of water. The Israelites walked through, unharmed, and then God returned the water to normal and it swept over the Egyptians who were chasing the people of Israel and the Bible says that not a single one survived.

In the same chapter as the Israelites thought they would escape, the feared they would not. And then they were delivered.

Their Deliverer showed up!

And in the very first verse of the next chapter, the people of Israel are praising God for rescuing them and for granting them true freedom.

How does this apply to your life today?

In your current chapter of life, where are you? Are you trying to be free? Are you facing a huge barrier that seems insurmountable? Have you called out to God with doubt? Has He answered you yet? Is He rescuing you? Has He delivered you? Are you free?

A lot can change in just one chapter.

Just hang on -- the Lord will fight for you.

Thoughts on Healing

2011-10-11T15:12:00.000-07:00

Healing is a touchy topic. Especially when you are the one deemed needful of healing.

There are all kinds of healing -- physical, emotional, spiritual, mental, social, marital.

Throughout my three plus decades I've experienced a few of those. Not necessarily instant or dramatic. Not easy.

I have felt conflicted when people suggest I pray for healing, get anointed, etc....

I wasn't sure why that was. It's not that I want to be sick and in pain.

During this past weekend, while attending a Women of Faith conference, some of my thoughts and feelings on the subject became more clear. I haven't written about it for a few days, trying to allow time to process it more fully.

I hesitate to put it here because of reactions and comments. I hesitate because I'm not sure I can express it clearly enough.

But here it is anyway:

I believe healing comes in different forms.
I believe healing looks and feels different to different people.
I believe my healing might come in the form of physical pain & disease.

i'll give us all a minute to think about that.

I want what God wants for me.

I desire to be the woman He created me to be. I trust His plan for my life.

If that includes this, so be it.

Please understand, I don't make that statement lightly. It doesn't mean that I won't fight and keep searching for effective treatments. It doesn't mean I'm giving up. It doesn't mean I'm succumbing.

It means that as I go to physical therapy, do my exercises, endure times of severe physical pain, limp, swallow vitamins, swallow medications, drink lots of water, take my heating pad to bed every night..... as I do those things, as I fight the best I can, I trust.

I trust He knows what's best for me.

And while all of this doesn't appear to be the best, if it draws me to His heart, if it forms me into who I am created to be, if it helps shape His plan for me, I trust.

*all images in this post taken by our friend Terence McLeod.

Who is the Best Daddy in the World?

2011-10-10T13:43:00.000-07:00

Today I had a conversation with my 4 year-old daughter Natalie. It went like this:

Jennifer: "Don't you guys think we have the best daddy in the world?"

Natalie: "Well, not the best daddy. But he is nice."

Jennifer: "Oh, really? Who do you think is the best daddy?"

Natalie: "Every single daddy in the world who takes good care of children is the best daddy yet."

I thought her response was profound. A big thank you to all the daddies in the world (including my dad, Larry, and the girls' dad, Jonathan) who take good care of children.

When You're Walking in Shadow

2011-10-05T12:09:00.000-07:00

As a person of faith I know, cognitively, that I am not alone. That my God walks with me, never leaving me.

But sometimes the shadows come and I walk in darkness. And that walk becomes a limp.

I wait for the moments I step into sunlight again; I wait for the warmth that takes the pain away, the light that soaks through my heart.

It's one thing to know that I am not alone.

But sometimes I need to feel it, to see it, to touch that knowledge.

Today I am thankful for the visible and touchable reminders God sends into my life that tangibly reinforce the reality of His presence and grace.

Children's Literature We Love

2011-10-03T12:49:00.000-07:00

I wanted to share some of our favorite books for children, including Jonathan's and my childhood favorites, the favorites from our daughters' early years, and the series we are reading to them now.

Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown.

Hannah loved this book so much as a baby that we tracked down the companion book, My World. Both copies are now tattered and worn, having gone on many outings and adventures with us. Two other books by this author have captivated Natalie: Runaway Bunny and Home for a Bunny.

Curious George by Margret & H.A. Rey

Hannah's favorite toddler & preschool year books. I can't tell you how many times we've checked these yellow books out from the library. We even had a Curious George themed party for her 3rd birthday.

I believe the reason this series was such a favorite of Hannah's was due to the similarity between her personality and George's. For a while, I even described her as a "Curious George" as she got into lots of mischief, but by the end of the day she always made up for it.

Some books have become classic children's literature for a reason. Here are some big hits in our home:

Peter Rabbit & other stories by Beatrix Potter

The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams

I have to admit this one has become more meaningful to me after having a child who loved a stuffed bunny as if it were real. Natalie & her Cinnamon Swirl Bunny are never far from one another. I also love this passage, since becoming well acquainted with joint pain:

"Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off and your eyes drop out and you get loose in your joints and very shabby. But those things don't matter at all because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

The Complete Tales of Winnie the Pooh by A.A. Milne

Corduroy by Don Freeman

A little girl named Lisa falls in love with this teddy bear at a toy store. Published in 1968.

Jesus Storybook Bible by Sally Lloyd-Jones

A fabulous way to introduce Jesus and the Bible to children. The author does a phenomenal job of carrying the prevailing theme of the Bible through every story in this book. A wonderful introduction to the heart of God.

Owl at Home - Arnold Lobel

This is just the most loveable owl. He makes tea out of his tears.

Mr. Putter & Tabby - Cynthia Rylant

Charming stories of an old man and his old cat. Some of the stories involve Mr. Putter's neighbor lady and her dog.

Chapter books I read and loved as a girl that we are now reading aloud to Hannah & Natalie:

All-of-a-Kind Family by Sydney Taylor

Five Jewish sisters living in New York in the early 20th century. Though poor, they find no shortage of adventures and happiness.

American Girl Books - {Molly, Samantha, Kaya, Kirsten, etc...} Assorted Authors including Valerie Tripp {not only do these stories portray girls of various ethnicities with good values and strong moral character, the realistic life plots give plenty of opportunity for teaching & discussion between parent and child, and help kids learn about historical periods.}

Betsy-Tacy books by Maud Hart Lovelace

The tales of little girls who meet at age 5 and become best friends. Published in the 1940s.

The Boxcar Children by Gertrude Chandler Warner

These mysteries about 4 siblings are a generational hit in my family. My grandmother read them to my dad, my parents read them to me and my siblings, and now I have read them to my girls. These books captivated my imagination, probably in part due to how our family of 4 kids (two boys and two girls) was like the character siblings of the book.

My favorite little girl book:

Baby Dear by Eloise Wilkin {a story about a little girl whose mother has a new baby. The little girl takes care of her dolly just as the mother takes care of the new baby.}

From the age of about 4, when my mom gave birth to twins, I couldn't wait to be a mother. My copy of this Little Golden Book was so well loved that the spine fell apart and my parents reinforced it with masking tape. When I was a teenager my mom and I found a new copy in the grocery store and bought it.

Jonathan's favorite boyhood book:

Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak

What are some favorites from your childhood & in your home?

Beauty in the Everyday

2011-10-01T00:01:00.000-07:00

"Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful,
we must carry it with us or we find it not."

{Ralph Waldo Emerson}

Every day I like to look for beauty around me. Here are some things I found beautiful this week.

"Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in,
where nature may heal and give strength to body and soul."
{John Muir}

Happy weekend to you!

Flying Through the Storm

2011-09-29T00:00:00.000-07:00

"The wise man in the storm prays to God,
not for safety from danger,
but deliverance from fear."
{Ralph Waldo Emerson}

What Support Looks Like

2011-09-28T09:00:00.000-07:00

While my aunt was battling breast cancer, my uncle (who travels for work a lot) put a magnetic pink breast cancer awareness ribbon on the back of his car. With tears in her eyes she told me how much that meant to her.

I was diagnosed just over a year ago with Ankylosing Spondylitis, a chronic inflammatory disease that attacks the spine & joints. I live with pain, stiffness, low-grade fevers, swelling, sleep difficulty, limping and more, depending on the day.

About a month ago, I received a package in the mail that an Ankylosing Spondylitis support group mailed me. It contained a tee shirt and a couple of Lance Armstrong "Live Strong" style blue wristbands for Ankylosing Spondylitis. Blue for arthritis {AS is an inflammatory form of arthritis, like Rheumatoid Arthritis}, with the words Stand Tall etched on the band.

I dumped out the contents of the bag and was surprised when my husband Jonathan snatched up one of the blue wristbands and immediately put it on his wrist. Since that day he was worn it every day, no matter where he goes. He wears it to work with khakis and a button-down shirt, church with a suit and tie; at home, in jeans and a tee shirt.

People ask him what it's for. He replies something like, "Well, blue is for arthritis awareness, and this particular wristband is for Ankylosing Spondylitis." He goes on to say what AS is, and that his wife has it. People have replied with, "Oh! I wear a purple one for Lupus" and "We know what Ankylosing Spondylitis is, our daughter was diagnosed when she was 21. She's 41 now."

He is spreading awareness. And that's powerful.

But what it means to me, I can't fully explain in words.

I didn't ask him to wear it. I didn't expect him to wear it. He just chose to.

Whenever I see him wearing it, I feel a strong sense of support. I feel less alone in my battle.

It reminds me of wedding rings. When I see him wearing his wedding ring, I feel loved and affirmed in his sense of devotion and commitment. But wedding rings are a societal norm. They're expected.

Awareness and support wristbands and car magnets are not.

When Jonathan chose to marry me, I wasn't battling disease or pain. When Jonathan chose to wear the wristband, I was still me, but I was a different version of me, too.

Society didn't expect him to donn a wristband to show his support for me. He just did that on his own. To me, it means that despite disease and pain, he still chooses me and is more committed to me than ever. He is choosing to stay by my side, no matter what comes, and walk this journey with me.

It means the world to me.

Sara at Rest

2011-09-25T16:16:00.000-07:00

{click twice to enlarge the picture}

He Watches Me

2011-09-21T10:25:00.000-07:00

While struggling with pain, nausea and sorrow this morning, He sends this song to mind:

Why should I feel discouraged,

Why should the shadows come,

Why should my heart feel lonely

And long for Heaven and home,

When Jesus is my portion?

A constant friend is He:

His eye is on the sparrow,

And I know He watches over me;

His eye is on the sparrow,

And I know He watches me.

I sing because I'm happy,

I sing because I'm free,

His eye is on the sparrow,

And I know He watches me

His eye is on the sparrow,

And I know He watches me

"Let not your heart be troubled,"

His tender word I hear,

And resting on His goodness,

I lose my doubts and fears;

Though by the path He leadeth

But one step I may see:

His eye is on the sparrow,

And I know He watches me;

His eye is on the sparrow,

And I know He watches me.

Whenever I am tempted,

Whenever clouds arise,

When songs give place to sighing,

When hope within me dies,

I draw the closer to Him,

From care He sets me free:

His eye is on the sparrow,

And I know He cares for me;

His eye is on the sparrow,

And I know He cares for me.

{lyrics written by Civilla D. Martin in 1905}

To hear our sweet friend Sara sing it, click here and scroll down to "His Eye is on the Sparrow"

He gives strength for today, doesn't He?

Gratitude for Every Season

2011-09-19T18:26:00.000-07:00

There is a time for everything, a season for every activity under heaven.
A time to be born and a time to die. A time to plant and a time to harvest.
A time to kill and a time to heal. A time to tear down and a time to rebuild.
A time to cry and a time to laugh. A time to grieve and a time to dance.
A time to scatter stones and a time to gather stones. A time to embrace and a time to turn away.
A time to search and a time to lose. A time to keep and a time to throw away.
A time to tear and a time to mend. A time to be quiet and a time to speak up.
A time to love and a time to hate. A time for war and a time for peace.
{Ecclesiastes 3, New Living Translation}

We go through seasons in life -- the weather changes, both literally and figuratively. For a long time, I only enjoyed certain seasons. But as I've grown (both older and hopefully wiser), I've begun to realize the beauty of every season. There are certain comforts that can only be appreciated during times of harsh weather.

Gratitude is the perfect accessory for every season. It looks great with shorts and flip-flops on a sunny beach day.

It layers perfectly with boots, jeans, a cardigan and a scarf for fall, the time of the year where some coldness and darkness creeps in.

Gratitude tucks easily in with the layers of winter, to keep you warm.

And in the spring it works like an umbrella to shelter you from the downpours.

I may live with chronic pain. I may be chronically ill. But I can also choose to be chronically grateful.

Just as there is beauty to be found in every season, beauty year-round, there is always something for which to be grateful.

In good times and bad, I can choose to be filled with joy, not just pain; filled with gratitude, not just limitations.

What are you grateful for?

A Night in the Life of Chronic Pain and Gratitude

2011-09-16T01:14:00.000-07:00

I go to bed with a heating pad and a special pillow and I close my tired eyes and try to quiet my mind which is running in a way I no longer can.

The pain in my chest keeps me awake and my cheeks are damp from knowing she is nearing the end of her time with us.

I toss and turn but even that is altered now -- it's a process to turn over and there's pain if I lay on my back and pain if I lay on my hips, and if I lay on my side my ribs ache.

I give up for now, and push aside the covers, reaching for my glasses on my bedside table, and quietly get into a sitting position and then stand and grab a sweatshirt and slip out of the bedroom as silently as I can, trying not to wake my husband.

I put on the tea kettle and flip the knob to high and watch as the burner glows red in the dark kitchen. In the dark night.

Opening the microwave, I ball up a second heating pad and place it on the rotating glass plate and press "3." The appliance hums to life loudly in our silent home and I hope, like so many previous nights, that I am not disturbing the rest of the three gifts God has given me -- my husband Jonathan, and our daughters who sleep with well-loved bunnies and dollies in a shared bedroom lit by soft nightlight.

I pad over to my recliner and sit with my now-hot heating pad placed against my chest, where it feels like a heart attack is brewing right along with my tea. Costochondritis, inflammation of the chest wall, is just one of my symptoms with Ankylosing Spondylitis.

I rock and sip and wait for medication to kick in, and remember when my oldest was only 4 and she would find me balled up on the floor and tell me, "Medicine takes a long time to kick in, Sweetheart, but it will kick in." She would squat down and stroke my hair and sing me a little song.

My family has lived with chronic pain for several years now. It has come in different forms -- first, after a miscarriage, as pelvic pain, and then as spine and joint pain.

It wasn't invited, but it's here nonetheless, and although we didn't ask it to come, we have learned our way around it. We have learned, every single one of us, how to take better care of each other. We have learned, from 6'2" Jonathan to 44" Natalie Kate, how to be more compassionate.

We have learned how to love better and how to be more patient and we have absolutely learned to be flexible with plans, as I don't know from one day to the next how I will be feeling. Because of that unpredictability we've also learned how to seize the day. Mama isn't limping today? Let's take a family walk!

I sit and rock and sip and wait for the heat and the medicine to soak in and through me and I wipe away a tear that represents the grief I feel over Sara's life ending soon. More tears swell up and pool in my eyes that represent this profound love I have for my family and friends and life itself, and my gratitude that I am here to experience all of this, the good and the bad.

Eventually I head back for a second try at sleep. I slip back under the covers, fold my glasses back onto my bedside table, adjust myself with two heating pads and a special pillow, and finally drift off to sleep with my chest hurting and my heart aching.

I don't enjoy the pain, and I resent how it effects our family (especially when I see the hurt and worry in my daughters' eyes), but I relish these sweet gifts it has taught me:

Live this life you've been given. It's precious!

Sweet Sara

2011-09-15T14:24:00.000-07:00

Along with so many others, I am sad today as a dear friend, Sara Frankl, is nearing the end of her life.

Sara has inspired thousands of people through her blog Gitzen Girl, about her journey with Ankylosing Spondylitis and her daily decision to Choose Joy. I found Sara's blog years ago and was fascinated to read her posts as she was the first person I had ever heard of with AS, other than my dad. She was a woman (AS used to be thought of as a men's disease) and she was just a handful of years older than me. I loved her red curls, her beautiful eyes and smile, her heart, her story, and most of all, her attitude.

She has been such a blessing to me, especially since I began my own journey with AS. Little did I know, those years ago, that we would share this disease.

While Ankylosing Spondylitis is known for attacking the spine and other joints, it can also become systemic and effect organs such as the heart and lungs. That is what happened in Sara's case.

Sara has been very ill and recently found out that her organs are shutting down. She is at home, with hospice care, surrounded by her large, loving family and her sweet little dog, Riley, who has been her constant companion.

Sara, you are so loved. You will be missed. We will not forget what you've shown us about life.

No more pain, no more sickness, no more tears, Sweet Friend.

Soar Anyway.

2011-09-09T13:43:00.000-07:00

Be still, sad heart, and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.

{Henry Wadsworth Longfellow}

The Gifts in the Pain

2011-09-09T01:30:00.000-07:00

Last time I wrote about my health, in this post, I said that in a future post I would tell you about the hidden gifts found in chronic pain & illness.

To do that, I have to go back a bit.... back to 2005 when we found our tiny family going through something we never thought we would face. At an ultrasound towards the end of the first trimester of an uneventful pregnancy, we were told there was no heartbeat.

Losing that baby has been a defining event in my life. Just like marrying Jonathan and giving birth to Hannah and Natalie, losing our {very loved, wanted, and anxiously awaited} baby helped shape the person I am today.

Miscarriage was not something I knew much about. I did not have any close friends who had been through it, my mom had not experienced it, and although I knew it was a disappointing, sad, awful thing, I had never heard of the type of miscarriage that happened to me: Missed Miscarriage, meaning that for whatever reason, a woman's body does not catch on to what has happened when the baby stops developing or dies, and does not begin the process of passing the baby.

So when we went in that day, we were happy, jovial, silly, and frankly, naive to the realities of what women go through in doctor's offices and ultrasound rooms every day.

Just moments after we were calling the baby by both names we had already chosen (one for a boy and one for a girl), we were told there would be no baby after all. No baby coming home with us the following Spring, no baby sibling for Hanny, no baby kicking soon. No baby to use the Winnie the Pooh nursery decor I had just purchased.

No baby.

I had a procedure and it was supposed to be over. My body, they said, would heal quickly and we could wait a few months and try again, have another baby.

But just days after I thought it was over, the complications began...

In a nutshell, over the course of the next few years, there were infections, antibiotics, ER visits, ultrasounds, hospital stays, surgery, bedrest, no lifting, surgery, no lying down, a new pregnancy, PAIN, a healthy delivery, PAIN, surgery, PAIN, PAIN, surgery, PAIN stretching on for days and weeks and months and (literally) years.

I have no idea how those years looked from the outside, all I can tell you is bits of how it felt from within, but even that is a blur and graphic and a mixture of joy and grief and severe daily pain that is indescribable if you have never experienced it. I've said it before and I'll probably say it again: it's amazing how much pain the human body can endure.

The gifts in the pain of those years is still a stretch to identify, but I remember how light I felt when it finally began to back off. I felt like I was flying. I could run. I could lift my daughters. I could sleep without heating pads. I could mother without medication. I could truly live.

I vividly remember how good it felt and how I knew I would never again take for granted life without pain. I remember it well because it was not long ago -- not long before I began experiencing increasing levels of pain and stiffness in my spine, neck, jaw, hips, shoulders, ribs, chest, wrist & hands, knees, ankles & feet. Not long before I was diagnosed with an autoimmune disease (a chronic disease) called Ankylosing Spondylitis. A disease that could hunch me over and fuse (lock) my spine, a disease that could rob my ability to run, wreck my ability to walk, and devastate my ability to function daily.

It's been almost a year since I was diagnosed with AS, and some of the gifts that I had already found, thanks to experiencing deep personal loss, are firmly planted in my heart and outlook: a passionate desire to love with intention, to love well and consistently and to use my words to express that love before it is too late. I know now, and have felt all too keenly, the fragility and frailty of life. I have lost friends and classmates to car accidents, I have lost my very very dear and special Grama, completely unexpectedly and suddenly to a massive stroke at a young age. I have lost elderly and sick grandparents. But the most difficult, for me, has been the loss of a child. It's been nearly 6 years, and I still feel the hole in my heart and our family every day. It gets easier, yes, but it does not go away.

I believe one day I will hold that baby. Some days that is the only way I bear the absence of a child that was never here.

So what are the gifts?

I don't take those I love for granted.

I love with intention.

I use my words.

I use my creativity to heal.

I turn it around -- instead of asking every day, "Why am I going through this pain?" I look for the beauty around me, big or small, the overlooked things in nature, everything I can do that day, and I feel awe and wonder at it all and remember how very blessed I am to be alive; to be able to live this day.

I simplify. This was born out of my fatigue and pain levels, and serves me well as I limit what I do outside of our home so that I can better love and care for what and who is inside my home.

I slow down. This was born out of my inability to walk quickly, to stand for as long as I would like, etc... It's still hard for me, but I try to remember to take more breaks to rest, to snuggle my girls, to sit down and read to them, to make memories.

I do when I can -- When I can walk, I walk. When I can hold my girls without pain, I hold them. When I can get up early and be SuperMom, I donn my proverbial cape. I am so much more eager now to say YES! to life; to getting out in nature and being with those I love and to truly living.

So these are the gifts. They are beautiful, profound, sometimes-not-learned-until-late-in-life-or-until-it's-too-late gifts. I honestly feel very blessed to have been given them early in life, so I can better see what's important and what's valuable and what truly matters.

These are the gifts. I hope they inspire or comfort you.

Want to Fly?

2011-09-07T16:45:00.000-07:00

2 years

2011-09-06T00:11:00.000-07:00

I began Live Art.fully two years ago today. I started it in response to a new way of looking at my world; a perspective of choosing to look for the beauty in every day.

I began the blog with the intent to write about journaling, creativity, and living inspired. I have touched on those topics, but the posts are tied together with a broader theme. Maybe the theme is only clear to me, but I hope as you journey with me you see glimpses of what I am seeing and learning and that you can see the art in every day.

There are a lot of awful things in the world and it took years of experiencing some of them to form this new outlook of searching out the art in the natural world, the beauty all around me and making sure to incorporate that into my life -- good day or bad day.

Thank you for coming along with me as I Live Art.fully!

around my little red house these days, I am...

starting 2nd grade and Pre-Kindergarten with my two little learners (loving homeschooling!)

journaling

writing a book (memoir-style) on loss and love

organizing our entire home, including garage (this is wonderful! we have a small house and not a lot of storage space in it, so in order to keep it tidy, there can't be too much. we have made major progress in the last two weekends and I am loving our new & improved nest)

gearing up for fall & cooler weather (while my soul adores this time of year, my joints do not. my hands are already beginning to swell and ache again). there is something about fall that I find so inspiring. I feel myself turning inward as the weather begins to change. I head home, both literally and figuratively. I am washing up blankets and thinking about mittens for these aching hands. I am remembering all my favorite hot drinks: Bigelow's Apple Cider tea, Mexican hot chocolate, Pumpkin Spice lattes, and the list goes on.... I am dusting off the recipes for my favorite soups and breads.

currently reading: under a wing by reeve lindbergh, daughter of famous aviator charles lindbergh & writer anne morrow lindbergh

and you?

How to Leave a Comment

2011-08-14T15:07:00.000-07:00

I've been hearing from some of you that you are having difficulty leaving a comment on my blog. If this is you, and you would like to comment, here are a few simple steps to do so without subscribing or following or creating a Google account.

1. At the bottom of any post you wish to comment on, click on the place where it says the number of comments. On the example picture above, you would click where it says 1 comments.

2. Where it says Comment as, select the option that says "Anonymous" from the drop down menu. Now you can write your comment in the box. If you like, you can leave a truly anonymous comment, but I love to know who you are, so if you don't mind, please sign your comment. If you don't want to leave your last name, feel free to omit that or use a last initial or "Mom", "Uncle Bob", etc...

3. Now you simply click Post Comment. Walah! There's your comment. You've shared your heart and blessed mine. Thank you so much!

Is this helpful? Please let me know if you have any questions. Thank you for reading Live Art.fully!

A Letter to My Daughters: Reflections on Life and Carnival Rides

2011-08-13T17:55:00.000-07:00

The carnival at night is where reality and dreams collide. Lights, music and motion all spin together to create a fantasy, just as sugar and air become cotton candy.

When I think about the childhood memories I want you girls to have, this is one of them.

I want you always to remember your favorite ride-buddy: your sister. I pray you take each other along on this ride of life, because life goes up and down and makes you sick and dizzy sometimes, and having a sister to journey with can be just the ticket. I remember the day we found out we had lost our baby, when my world felt upside-down, and my sister, Auntie Sissy, called and talked to me through her tears, and that meant everything to me.

Hannah, don't forget how Natalie makes you laugh. Her humor will help you on a down day.

Natalie, Hannah loves to protect you. If you never need her, she will feel honored to be there for you.

If you feel alone or can't find a friend, look no further than your sister. She is a gift to you, a lifelong friend.

Bricks & Mortar: Thoughts on Raising Children

2011-08-10T14:51:00.000-07:00

Between the physical and mental raising of our children, we must also diligently tend to their emotional needs.

Like mortar between bricks, there must be love and affirmation.

I love you.
I'm proud of you.

These things glue the feeding and housing and education basics together into a stable structure.

Love isn't superfluous. It's not weak. It is necessary for building healthy, strong relationships.

Without love, verbalized and shown, a harsh wind shakes the bricks and what we've tried to build comes crashing down.

Ankylosing Spondylitis & the Authentic Truth: What's Happening in my Home, My Heart & My Body

2011-08-06T23:32:00.000-07:00

It's funny how for weeks I can't think of a thing to blog about, and then all at once, I am inspired to saturation-point.

Maybe it's a new blog or two in my reader, a clean room in my house, new pages lengthening my manuscript, sunshine and how we soaked it in this week. Maybe it's fresh lemonade with strawberries made by my handsome husband, or maybe it's recognizing how tall and gangly my daughters are growing. Maybe it's knowing more summer fun & memories are just around the corner, or knowing a new year of learning at home with my girls begins soon. {I find inspiration in the school supply aisle... always have.}

Whatever it is, I want to write about it but there's so much to say, I don't know where to begin.

Balanced with all the goodness I just wrote about is the underbelly of the coin -- not so good, refreshing or inspiring. Things like doctor's appointments, frustration & confusion, more tests looming, more vials of blood drawn, a house that I can't seem to keep up with and how I have allowed that to stop me from inviting friends over for a playdate or tea party or dinner. There's stressors -- we all have them -- and so many things to try to stay current with, and that has become very difficult.

I could tell you about several weeks ago when my feverish four year-old needed to be carried from one room to the next, and how due to a back flare-up, I had to ask her to walk while holding my hand. I could tell you how bad the pain in my spine was, and how I couldn't bend to lift her, but it doesn't compare to how sad my heart was when I couldn't just scoop up my hot, miserable little girl and carry her.

I could tell you how my ribs and chest hurt so much that it's painful for my children to cuddle too close to me. I could tell you, again, that I worry about my future with Ankylosing Spondylitis and especially about my mobility.

I could explain how exhausted I am and how difficult it is to get out of bed on a daily basis. How much I yearn to be present in my little girls' lives and hearts and the guilt and sadness that can come when I can't be the mommy I once was.

No, I can't take you to the library today.
I'm sorry, it hurts too much to have you on my lap right now.
I wish I could bake cookies with you, sweet girl, but Mama can't stand for that long right now.

My eyes are welling with tears, and this is how I know that this is the authentic truth.

The pain can be severe, but what is unbearable is what it does to our family sometimes.

I know I could tell you what chronic illness and pain gives me. And I will tell you about the gifts found in all of this in a future post.

But for now, it's okay to take a moment and just admit how much I hurt sometimes when my body can't match my heart.

Bad day or good day, I thank you for coming along on my journey. I hope you find a kinship and truth here. I hope you leave inspired or hopeful. I count many of you among my dearest friends & family, my support system, cheerleaders, fellow AS journeyers, sisters of body and heart.

Thank you.

How to Help a World in Crisis

2011-07-27T17:09:00.000-07:00

I recently finished reading Ashley Judd's powerful book All That Is Bitter & Sweet.

She writes about global issues such as poverty, AIDS, prostitution, rape, war, genocide, lack of safe water or any water, Malaria, maternal death and high infant and child mortality rates. Truly devastating stories and history contained in the pages of this book, but Ashley deals with the difficult content with grace.

She also discusses her upbringing in a dysfunctional family system -- a family that battled addictions, a family that often ping-ponged her around from home to home, one parent to the other, and left her alone altogether at times.

She discussed feminism -- not in the connotation widely thought of negatively, but in the very basic definition that women have rights and should be treated with respect and humanity; that women are not in a sub-category to men; that women are human. If this concept is foreign to you it is likely that you, as I was, are unfamiliar with how women are treated in many countries.

She discussed her marriage to race car driver Dario Franchitti, her family issues, therapy, decision to pursue acting and subsequent decision to pursue global advocacy and activism work.

She takes the reader on trips into the heart of India, Cambodia, Thailand, and many places in Africa, including Rwanda and the Congo. I learned a lot about true poverty and what that looks like. I learned much about prostitution and what causes such high rates. In a word, it is caused by desperation. Starvation, 12 year-old girls who are AIDS orphans and have taken a handful of toddler AIDS orphans as their own children to mother and provide for. That doesn't even include sex trafficking and how women, young boys and children are snatched from their homes, smuggled across borders and enslaved in a life of forced prostitution.

Every chapter is devastating and creates urgency to help. There is so much need and so many in developed countries who could do so much good. So many things that are SO CHEAP, but save lives, like water purification systems and mosquito nets.

I am so glad my family is involved with Compassion International. I am so glad we sponsor Cristian, a 5 year-old little boy living in South America. I am so glad to know, when I read about fistulas from childbirth and sexual violence, that somewhere in Ethiopia this month, a woman got a life-changing surgery because our family sent money. I am so humbled, happy and grateful to help. But it feels like so little, and I want to do more.

I look around our small house -- a house that would seem like a palace to a family in parts of Africa. We have running water -- hot and cold -- that is safe to drink and bathe in, 24/7. We have basic health and healthcare. We have shelter and food. Our children are not in jeopardy of being infected with Malaria by mosquitoes while they sleep.

Suddenly, using the word traumatic to describe anything I've experienced in my life seems naive.

There is a balance -- finding ways to get involved and help while being at peace with living a more comfortable and safe existence. I thank God for the luxury of being born in North America.

We are so excessively blessed and lucky and fortunate. I want to soak in that knowledge -- truly feel it -- and then look for more ways to get involved in the fight against global violence, poverty and disease.

As Compassion International puts it: "Start small. Think big." How can you get involved?

Here are just a few quality organizations with which to partner:

Compassion International
World Vision
Show Hope
ADRA
Fistula Foundation

Take an hour and visit some of these sites and see if you feel called to help. If you can't help financially, post links to these sites on your Facebook page, blog, Twitter. There is always something to do, and even though it doesn't always feel like it, every little bit helps at least one person suffering.

Using My Words

2011-07-18T13:25:00.000-07:00

I have been focusing on the memoir I'm writing -- on loss, on love, on what makes a family -- and it has surprised me that the more words I use with my book writing, the less I seem to have for my journal or my blog. I keep coming back to this space, to say hello, or check in, and I just can't think what to say.

So hi and hello! I hope you are all well.

My husband celebrated a birthday last week and I had the pleasure of taking him out for a night. Here's a picture of us, taken in a mall parking lot, but reflecting happiness nonetheless.

We had dinner at Cheesecake Factory and got coffee at Starbucks and held hands and enjoyed hours with no sticky hands to wash or little bodies to buckle in and out of car seats. The girls had a great night having a sleepover at Grama and Papa's house.

I can't get over how blessed I am. Next month we are celebrating 9 years of marriage. I can't wait. I can't wait for that number to be double digits and then double and triple.

I remember the longing to spend my life with someone, to be completely safe with another person. My husband is not perfect. I am not perfect. We are not perfect for each other. We are, in actuality, quite different. But I am safe with him. I know that I can tell him my dreams and my vision of the world and share my personal truths with him, and he will hold all of that safely.

This summer we're doing lots of reading around here, as all four of us are signed up for the local library's summer reading program. That means that, when I am not mothering and when I am not writing, I am reading. In one month I have read 6 + books and read several hours to the girls.

We're definitely dripping with words around here, and we're not forgetting to use the ones we feel, like I love you. It's important not to assume that our family knows how we feel. Life is temporary. So we show and tell the love we feel, right now, while we can.

Are you using your words?

Traveling through History

2011-07-10T15:11:00.000-07:00

This last week I've been working on my book. I have made more progress than I have in the last year combined. It's almost a fever... When I get a bit of time, after the girls are tucked into bed, all I do is write and read and edit and write more.

So I wanted to let you know where I've been.

I've been in the year 2004, when my grandfather first held my daughter; in the year 1980, when my aunt was killed by a drunk driver; in the year 2001, when the twin towers fell.

I've been traveling through history.

How did you spend your week?

Redemption

2011-07-01T14:23:00.000-07:00

Redemption comes in many forms.

Things happen and they aren't fair and they hurt. Loss and illness and disease and disability and strained relationships and failed attempts.

But if you get back up and keep going and process the hard stuff the best you can; if you keep focusing on the positive, while not living in denial about the hurt, if you just keep going...

Someday you'll find redemption.

Keep your eyes open and keep looking because it will come.

Puppy Slippers

2011-07-01T13:29:00.000-07:00

his mother writes to tell us

thank you

for the money we sent for Christmas

she says

he used the money to buy puppy slippers

my heart pounds a bit, holding her letter

once, after the miscarriage

i saw a baby boy that looked like our girls

dressed in denim overalls and puppy Robeez

the sight nearly undid me

and now she writes to say

he chose puppy slippers,

this little boy we sponsor, the same age our baby should be

the gift he is to me

is far more than the gifts he chooses

with our American dollars

Step by Step

2011-06-30T15:15:00.000-07:00

You have big dreams or big tasks or both. Either way it can be overwhelming. It's so easy to look at all that is involved and be exhausted.

But before you give up and sleep through life, let me remind you that throughout history people have done great things...

Indian Emperor Shah Jahan build the Taj Mahal in memory of his beloved wife who died giving birth to their 14th child
Canadian Housewife Jennie Butchart supervised her vision of 55 impeccably landscaped acres come to life -- the Butchart Gardens
Parisian Engineer Gustave Eiffel designed the Eiffel Tower
Russian Novelist Leo Tolstory wrote War & Peace
American Astronaut Neil Armstrong walked on the moon
Romanian gymnast Nadia Comaneci scored seven perfect 10s in the 1976 Montreal summer Olympics

We all have big stuff to do and challenges to overcome. The same advice holds true for the baby learning to walk, the rehab patient, and everyone in between:

One Step at a Time

So begin today, with your goal in mind, and use your sticktuitiveness, your creativity, your courage, your mental fortitude and take the first step.

The way to complete the project, attain the dream, or finish the marathon is one step at a time.

Falling & Rising

2011-06-29T13:28:00.000-07:00

It's easy to want to give up sometimes, to just stay down after you've tripped. Falling is embarrassing, scary, exhausting. Falling hurts.

But you get back up. It's easy to say and hard to do sometimes.

However this resonates for you today, know that you have the strength and courage to do it. We all fall down sometimes, but the bravest among us get back up and keep going.

Falling down isn't failing. It's not defeat and it's not the end. It's just a temporary set back.

Just get back up today. Once you're standing, you'll find the right way to keep going.

You have all the strength & courage you need for this!

Book Review: Sisterchicks in Wooden Shoes

2011-06-29T12:20:00.000-07:00

When I was in my teens I loved Robin Jones Gunn's series' for young girls. I loved them so much that I packed them up in a box to save, just in case I someday had daughters. I now have two daughters, and my oldest, Hannah, who is seven, is already looking forward to reading "the books Mommy saved in case she had girls."

Having said that, I had never read any of Robin's Sisterchicks books, written for women.

Sisterchicks in Wooden Shoes was my first choice. Tulips are my favorite flower and I am fascinated by all things European. Last year my family and I went to two tulip festivals, where I got a taste of Dutch things. I would love to visit Holland someday.

I read this book slowly, in and around other books, savoring my little virtual vacation to Holland. I loved Robin's descriptions of everything from sampling Gouda cheese and Dutch hot chocolate, to Pannenkoeken, Dutch pancakes.

While Sisterchicks in Wooden Shoes was, on one hand, a light read that delights the senses, it also brought a depth that leaves the reader thoughtful.

The story, in a nutshell, is about two long-time pen pals, Summer and Noelle, who have never met. When Summer receives a scary test result, she takes a spontaneous trip to the Netherlands to spend a week with Noelle. The two visit museums and churches, Corrie ten Boom's house, enjoy restaurants and the beach, all the while learning new ways to view the world and God.

I would recommend this book for anyone who is going through a valley in their life or faith, or who values the gift of friendship.

*Waterbrook Multnomah Publishers provided me with a complimentary copy of this book in exchange for my review.

Never Alone

2011-06-28T15:01:00.000-07:00

Please know you are never alone. No matter where you find yourself today and what obstacles you are facing, there is someone out there who understands. Surround yourself with the positive people in your life, and wean yourself from those who are toxic.

There will always be people who just don't get it, and don't know how to build others up.

You are not one of those people.

Remember to reach out, even when you feel alone -- especially when you feel alone. Focus on the positive and find ways to cope with the hardships.

You are a one-of-a-kind, and no matter what challenges you are facing, there are ways through and around and over. Ways to grow, ways to be a stronger person, ways to use your creativity to better your world.

Don't give up!

Guilt and the Chronically Ill Parent

2011-06-22T16:29:00.000-07:00

From the age of three I longed to be a mother, and it never occurred to me that for reasons beyond my control that might prove difficult.

I have lived with chronic pain since before my oldest daughter was two years old. By the time she blew out five candles, I'd been to the Operating Room five times.

Throughout my life, despite a loving, stable family and good upbringing, I have encountered health challenge after health challenge. Just as I had prior to motherhood, I fought to rise above and not let my health overcome the person I wanted to be and the life I dreamed possible.

I searched for treatments that would fix the problems and continued to fight to overcome, or at least diminish, the pain so I could be the best mother I could be, not offer my daughters only a portion of my attention, love and energy.

Sometimes it feels that as soon as I rise above one problem, another surfaces. When my oldest was six and my youngest three, I was diagnosed with a disease that had also attacked my father when I was a child, Ankylosing Spondylitis.

As difficult as it is to be elderly and stiff, in pain, and have trouble getting around, imagine those problems when you are 30, with a job, a household, and small children. Arthritis, unfortunately, does not only effect the old. Diseases like Ankylosing Spondylitis and Rheumatoid Arthritis typically strike between the ages of 15 and 50.

And so it is that I am raising my young daughters in constant pain with a body that operates like it's 80.

Determined not to feel guilt over the worry and strain my disease places on our young marriage and family, I become very clear on exactly what I want my daughters to remember, on the childhood memories I want them to have, and most of all, the mother I want to be, and then I work twice as hard and resolutely to be that mother, to create those memories, and to make the love I give so strong and the legacy I leave so rich that it overshadows the pain and the slower pace with which we must live life.

Guilt is easy to feel when you are a parent and even more so when you are a parent with chronic pain, but I will continue to do what I do best: love my girls. True love defeats fear, defeats guilt, and will defeat chronic illness. I will be a good mother because I will make it my biggest priority to love well.

Finding the Balance with Chronic Disease

2011-06-19T15:20:00.000-07:00

It can get discouraging -- the spectrum of pain and ability (or dis-ability) my health can span in a single day. Yesterday, despite raging back pain, I was able to dress nicely and go to church, chat with friends and draw encouragement from church members who took the time to thank me for my writing and even a family friend / deacon who always notices when I make it to church, and as he is aware of the challenges of my disease, will say to me affirmingly, "Nice to see you vertical!"

It is truly amazing sometimes, the amount of pain I can be in and still appear "normal." Ankylosing Spondylitis, especially if the patient does not use a walker, cane, or wheelchair to get around, and is not yet fused into a curved, stooped position, is truly an invisible illness. I look normal, but inside inflammation rages through my spine and joints and I experience the pain others can't see.

One normal day for others is like a marathon for me. I am so tired and being out and about tires me with systematic efficiency -- draining me of energy and pumping up my pain levels. Something as routine and simple for most people as grocery shopping, can leave me too exhausted to speak, feverish, and in severe pain.

It's really frustrating that people can't understand. It's awful to think that people around me may think I am making this up, faking it, or that my pain is really just some mild aching.

Pre-diagnosis, I enjoyed an outdoor walking routine. Never one to enjoy exercise or athletics, I discovered walking offered many positive benefits: increased energy, decreased stress and anxiety, improved posture. I loved my "artful walks" -- enjoying the skyline, backdrop of pastel sunsets to black tree silhouettes, music in my ears thanks to my MP3 player, fresh air, and the scent of laundry detergent from neighbors doing their laundry. Sometimes I paused to capture one of these images with a camera, or to jot down a snippet of a sentence in a notebook. Inspiration was all around.

I became unable to continue my walks about a year ago -- three months before I was diagnosed. The walks caused a spike in the pain and limping, and elevated my low-grade fevers.

This week I determined to try again. According to Arthritis Today magazine, walking is an excellent form of exercise for arthritis. Walking lubricates the joints, releases pain-fighting chemicals... It sounded great to me.

The first day I walked 1.5 miles, divided into two walks.

It was wonderful! I was back to my old routine. The beautiful afternoon or pre-sunset skies, the fresh air, the drifting laundry scent hovering in my neighborhood right along with a very real sense of hope. I was strong, I would prevail, and I would show Ankylosing Spondylitis who was in control!

The next day I went out again for another 0.75 miles. Not that far. The walk increased my spinal pain, and by the end I had knee and hip soreness. Oh well, I mused, I was strong and I would walk through it and soon I would be better.

By the end of the next day I could barely gimp through my tiny house, my hip on fire with inflammation, the ligaments and muscles that support the joint feeling pulled and bruised.

My spirits and hope sank.

What if I wouldn't be able to reclaim my walks? What if walking for exercise aggravated my hip joints to the point that it claimed the ability to walk even the small bits I need to maintain my life? I just don't know what the future holds for me with this disease. I don't know if I may be one who needs to have hip replacement surgery, or ends up in a wheelchair.

I'm 32 years old. I'm not prepared to choose a cane or use a wheelchair for trips to the zoo or the mall.

It's a very isolating sense of worry; a very isolating pain. I thank everyone in my life who takes me at my word when I say I am exhausted or in severe pain, even when I "look normal" and am smiling.

So while I take a day or two off from my walking and turn to research to try to find the answers to my questions, I cast out the proverbial net and pull in my thrashing, fighting hope, and know that tomorrow may be better than today.

I will keep fighting to find the balance.

Muffin Theology

2011-06-17T21:25:00.000-07:00

Natalie & I were making muffins today. I was giving her little jobs to do, as she likes to help. She put the paper liners in the tin, then asked if she could stir the batter. As I added in the ingredients, she stirred, careful not to slosh the mixture over the edges of the bowl. "If I do a really good job, Mama, do you think you will give me more things to do?"

Oh Precious Girl.... This is what I want my heart's cry to be too: "If I do a really good job, Father God, will you give me more things to do?"

If I use my small amounts of faith and patience, will You give me more?

If I give my time and talents, will You give me more?

If I do a really good job loving those You've placed in my life, will You give me more love?

You know what is great? Not only does He tell us that when we are faithful in small things, He will give us more, He also says even when I do not do a good job, even when I go and mess things up badly, He always has more love and more grace to give.

Only Dad

2011-06-11T23:49:00.000-07:00

"Only Dad's allowed in. He's my helper," Natalie (4) explains, guarding her blockaded bedroom door. She plots and schemes and dreams, and she wants her dad to always be included, and I inhale inspiration. This is how I should be too.

Later, Daddy leaves a note for the girls on their art easel, and this inspires me too, because I know God gives us signs that He loves us. I've seen them before and I'll see them again, and I want to always remember to look.

At the Feet of the King

2011-06-10T22:54:00.000-07:00

Arthritis creeps into my feet and for a long week and counting they hurt incessantly. Trying to keep up with active little girls and domestic chores requires a lot of time on one's feet, and my feet aren't up to the challenge.

I try anyway -- to walk the good walk, fight the good fight, smile through the pain, and remember every moment how very blessed I am.

Because, you see, I have feet. Some people don't. I have medicine. Some people don't. I have a wonderful husband, and some mothers with chronic conditions do not.

At the end of a long week, after a grocery shopping excursion that leaves my feet feeling like they're on fire, I sit in a chair and put them up, because I just can't walk anymore.

My husband makes dinner, bathes our 4 year-old, and because he's not already busy enough, serves me strawberry lemonade.

After I hug them goodnight from my chair, our little girls in footed pajamas are tucked into their beds, kissed, and prayed over.

Jonathan returns and says, "Hey, don't you have a little inflatable foot soaking tub?"

Ten minutes later, he has arranged my chair, crafted a platform out of a Rubbermaid storage bin, draped a towel across the platform, and filled my (now inflated) foot tub with warm water and lavender scented Epsom salts.

My feet slip into warm water and when they emerge, the pain is all but gone.

---

Jesus once did something similar. He filled bins and knelt to wash His followers feet, and I bet that when their feet emerged from the water; when their eyes met His eyes of love and grace, their pain (both of the flesh and the heart) was gone.

In this life, I may not win the chronic pain battle. People we love will die. But I think often of the day when I will look up and meet His eyes, and my pain (physical and emotional) will be gone. In that Holy presence, all peace, all hope, all love, all grace, all things good will soak through to the heart of His children and I can't even imagine what that will feel like.

I will sit at the feet of the King, and I can't wait for that day!

"And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; their shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things are passed away."
{Revelation 21:4}

The Story of Live Art.fully

2011-06-08T16:35:00.000-07:00

The year I turned 30, between two trials in my life, I adopted a way of looking at the world. It is a perspective, if you will, that is much more than two words can contain. I dubbed it Live Art.fully.

To Live Art.fully, bare bones, is to live fully, using art. But how do you live fully? And what if you're not an artist? Then what?

I spent most of my life convincing myself I was not an artist. I was creative, yes. I was a writer, or at least wanted to be. I doodled, wrote poetry, and scribbled endlessly in spiral bound books. I read voraciously. I loved hearing people's stories and at times, liked to tell my own, especially through the medium of writing. I loved drama & acting. I dabbled in music, learning three musical instruments and singing, but mastering none. I liked taking pictures. Through school, personal, and professional endeavors, I learned elements of design, layout, formatting, writing, editing, and publishing.

But I was not, absolutely not, an artist.

What I have learned is that what I do, all those outlets of creativity, is art. My life is an artful life.

Everyone faces obstacles in their lives, some more than others, and everyone has their own tragedies. I am not exempt from that, and have experienced many things in my life that were painful. You have read about some of them in previous posts.

What I learned, and still learn nearly daily, is that growth is a choice. We can take these hard things and let them help us grow. It's not easy. It's not pain-free. It's very difficult sometimes. But I can use my...

courage

resilience

honesty

positivity

faith

writing & art

...to heal, to grow, to process, to learn, to truly live an artful, authentic life.

If and when I fall, I get up. And so do you.

Still More Pages

2011-05-30T18:10:00.000-07:00

Click on the photos to enlarge them.

Shaped for God

2011-05-30T16:58:00.000-07:00

From the moment we knew we were expecting our daughters, they were loved. Without knowing who they were or who they would be, an indescribable bond formed. It's incredible to me that God says He's loved us and consecrated us for a special plan since before even an ultrasound could reveal us.

One of my favorite verses on this subject is Jeremiah 1:5, in which God tells Jeremiah that He knew him before he was formed in the womb, and that before Jeremiah was even born, God set him apart to be a prophet.

Jeremiah tells God I'm too young, I don't have the words, I'm scared.... Help!

And God tells Jeremiah he's not too young, and that not only will He go with Jeremiah and give him the words to speak, He will calm Jeremiah's fear. "They will fight against you, but not prevail over you, for I am with you to deliver you" (1:19).

Jeremiah was not the only one God called. Do you know you are called to be His? Do you know you are remarkable? Do you know that out of all the inhabitants of the world, out of billions of people, you are seen and known by God, down to the number of hairs on your head and the number of days your life will span?

You are consecrated. You have been set apart for God's service, declared sacred, dedicated for a purpose. Overwhelming? Sometimes. Terrifying? Sometimes. Equipped by God? Always.

Mindsets and Moments: The Heart of the Matter

2011-05-26T14:55:00.000-07:00

I see his coffee cup, left empty by the sink, and I long for a time when we will have more hours together; when we won't live so separate.

And I wonder if this is how God feels about us -- about me. That this is not how it was designed; that we were meant to be together.

Separation is not in the blueprints for sacred life.

Death, disillusionment, divorce: all impostors. None created by the One who only desires the very best for us.

The sacred moments of true togetherness -- when we are not only together in physical proximity, but also in spirit, offers glimpses of Heaven, His design. No competition, no conniving, no critical words slipping out unfiltered.

This is the heart of God: community, togetherness, grace. This is what we were made for.

So until I see him again, this man I vowed to walk through life with, I wash the cup and launder his clothes, and think about how to better show how I feel -- this love. And until I see Him, this God I vowed to serve, I wash out my heart and launder my judgment, and think about how to better show how He feels -- this perfect love.

Journal Cover Design II

2011-05-25T14:01:00.000-07:00

It's time for a new journal.

So yesterday I got out some supplies, and designed a couple new journal covers.

The background of this one, the blue, is my favorite color, and I love butterflies. I love reading to my daughters, and although we only have about another month of spring, it doesn't feel like it's arrived yet in my neck of the woods. My youngest daughter adores bunnies, and we homeschool, so are together constantly. These patterned papers with the bunnies charmed the socks off me.

This cover is simpler in that it was only made with one sheet of paper and a pearl brad.

I love them both. The problem is I can't decide which one to use.

Which cover do you like best? The Pearl Brad/Bunny cover or the Butterfly/Collage cover?

Bumper Cars and Spaghetti

2011-05-15T18:18:00.000-07:00

The thoughts in my mind today are like bumper cars. Just as I focus on one, another comes from behind to jar it out of the way, leaving a bit of whiplash. Knowing where to begin to process and learn is like searching for the end of the spaghetti noodle in a twirly heap of saucy mess. Here is my attempt at separating out some spaghetti and making the bumper cars stand still for just a moment.

Never underestimate the value of parents.

Never underestimate the value of the family we choose.

Never underestimate the power of words ... how they can inspire, lift up, tear down, and create that "aha" moment that helps us understand ourselves and our tragedies and victories.

Learn to apologize when necessary and forgive when necessary and let it all go, knowing that the good always outweighs the bad, and life is always worth living.

Appreciate the balance of good and bad, effortless and difficult. For it's when the hard comes that we more fully appreciate the easy.

Always value life. Know that every year will bring new goodness and new heartbreaks and it will all offer lessons.

Search out and celebrate the small things, like a steaming cup of tea, or the daily requests of a sweet 4 year-old for morning pots of healthy oatmeal, dotted with fruit and cream. The heaping baskets of warm clean clothes, the perfect shade of lipstick, the lingering hug and the laughter that slips out unbidden.

Life is a grand gift, and the hard times help us learn, help us grow, help us become.

So write your story. Sing your song. Make your mark. There is only one you. And remember too, that you influence those around you, so guard your words and your actions and focus on the building up, which is always its own reward.

Never take for granted the people and the abilities of today. It is all a gift.

On Listening and Learning

2011-05-11T15:43:00.000-07:00

"God has not only read your story, He wrote it."

Max Lucado

Over a year ago, God planted the seed of an idea in my heart. The idea to homeschool my daughters. While I've always known that I desired to be a mother, and that motherhood was, in fact, my greatest dream in life, I never thought I would homeschool.

When the idea began to take root and grow, I searched and searched for the origin. Where did it come from? I spoke with trusted people in my life, journaled and journaled and journaled about it, made lists of pros and cons, researched alternatives, researched curricula, and read books on homeschooling. I couldn't shake the idea that this was what I should do.

After months of grappling, I finally made the decision to homeschool. This decision brought indescribable peace.

Shortly afterward, I was hit with my first major, unrelenting flare. I have not felt well for over a year now. Last summer was spent at multiple doctors' offices, having lab work done, waiting for results, waiting for consults. And shortly after we began our homeschool year, I was diagnosed with Ankylosing Spondylitis, a chronic inflammatory disease that attacks the spine and joints, often causing pain, fatigue, difficulty with mobility, and worse.

Homeschool has been different than I envisioned. It's difficult to be chronically ill with children, let alone be responsible for their education and attend to all of my other responsibilities. But the things I wanted -- reading together, encouraging a love of reading and creativity, prolonging childhood, having more quality time together -- are happening.

I believe God nudged me into homeschooling; that it was His will for our family. He knows the end from the beginning, so of course He knew when He began to nudge that I would get sick and that chronic illness would be a factor in this plan.

So I conclude that if He nudged and it was His plan and He knew I would develop Ankylosing Spondylitis, He also planned to provide what it required.

I don't write this to compare homeschooling with traditional schooling. The point is the reminder I've experienced: learn to listen. Looking back, I see that the best aspects of my life began with just a nudge.

Thoughts on Chronic Illness

2011-05-05T13:33:00.000-07:00

"Is your back hurting you, Mama?" a cool little hand slides up my shirt and rubs my back.

Most mornings, my room is her first stop after waking. She slips in quietly, reheats my heating pad, and returns to tuck it over a nagging shoulder, a back that feels broken, or a throbbing hip.

Heat quiets the pain and promises soothe my fear.

His promise to love in sickness or in health.
His promise never to leave or forsake me.

Chronic illness crept in and changed our lives. It doesn't affect just me. It changes our marriage, our family; the rhythms of everyday life.

Today I sit in pain, as if a cloak of discomfort has been settled over my shoulders and wraps around my entire body. I feel like a turtle that just can't get up to speed. But I sit assured by the love my family has for me, something chronic illness hasn't changed. I'm still his wife, still that girl he fell in love with over a decade ago. I'm still their mama, and despite the limping and fatigue and feeling decades older than I am, I'm still the one who bakes cookies, reads stories, and braids wet hair.

I'm still me, and I'm still loved. Chronic illness doesn't change that.

Grace's Gift

2011-04-30T13:13:00.000-07:00

"God saved you by His grace when you believed. And you can't take credit for this; it is a gift from God."
Ephesians 2:8 NLT

While Judgment flicks lint from his suit jacket and wonders why others don't serve like he does, Grace watches carefully for those using their gifts, and thanks them for their ministry.

While Judgment gloats in his punctuality and perfect attendance, Grace greets the late with a warm heart and a warm hello.

While Judgment scrawls his name on the sign-up sheet for all to see, Grace shows up with sleeves rolled up, ready and willing to serve.

We are each given spiritual gifts, and are called to serve in different ways. Some sing and some teach, some play musical instruments and some preach; some introduce our little ones to Jesus, while others arrive early to unlock the doors and flood God's house with light.

While we learn to identify and utilize our individual spiritual gifts, there is one gift we have all been given and that is grace. We have all been shown a remarkable example of Christ's perfect love. Instead of being quick to criticize or judge, how can we learn to err on the side of grace, and instead of judgment, offer more love?

Let's love better. Grace is a "one size fits all" gift: it is wonderful both to give and receive, and never goes out of style.

Kindred Spirits: Telling & Celebrating Our Stories

2011-04-27T20:50:00.000-07:00

Last summer I stumbled upon a kindred spirit. This kindred spirit not only loves journaling and helping others to capture their stories, she creates her own beautiful, unique little journals and sells them online. I immediately loved her personality and creativity and emailed her to tell her that we were obviously kindred spirits.

Thankfully, she graciously emailed me back promptly, complimented me on Live Art.fully and agreed that we were definitely kindred spirits. {She's just cool like that.}

My kindred spirit is none other than Katie of Gadanke. Katie divides her time between Germany and a unique house made of tires in the Rocky Mountains.

If you don't know Katie, here are my Top Five Reasons to Adore Katie (in no particular order):

1.) She celebrates stories!

2.) She's eco-friendly

3.) She can fly a plane

4.) She's always creating
5.) She has a fabulous personality

A couple months ago, Katie sent me her Seeking Grace prayer journal. I journaled about loss, faith, illness, trust, friendships, and much more and sent it back to her. Katie photographed some of my pages and you can see them here: http://www.gadanke.com/share?loadJournal=6 {just click on the Seeking Grace Prayer Journal by Jenn}.

Katie makes journals that are super fun to fill. They come with rings that open and shut so you can rearrange the pages, add things, and completely personalize your journal. They are small and easy to toss in your bag or pocket and take with you. They come with prompts, brightly colored cover options, and well.... just see for yourself: http://www.gadanke.com/products

Are you inspired yet? Want to create your own Gadanke journal? Well, you're in luck! Katie has generously offered my readers {that means YOU!} 10% off all orders for the next 5 days. Just go browse her shop and when you check out, use discount code LOVEJENN10.

Need more info?

Finding Katie and Gadanke:

Shop http://www.gadanke.com

Twitter www.twitter.com/makingthishome

Facebook www.facebook.com/gadanke

Blog www.makingthishome.com

*blogging about creating a simpler, handmade life and celebrating our stories

motto: celebrate your story!

about Gadanke:

Document who you are and what you crave and believe. Handmade journaling products at Gadanke are filled with creative writing prompts and tidbits to make you think (and laugh!). These baby books, prayer journals, travel books, and diaries make your writing process more meaningful and fun! Plus they're totally eco-savvy with 100% recycled papers.

-------------------------------------------

I know you will love Katie & making her journals your own.

On Writing and the Decisions We Make to Tell Our Stories

2011-04-17T13:22:00.000-07:00

We must write what we feel called to write, and the year after my grandfather dies, I write a short essay about him and how he took to my firstborn. Those who read it receive it enthusiastically, and shortly thereafter I become inspired to tell more of the story and I begin.

When the girls are just babies -- Natalie an infant, Hannah three, I take laptop to bed one night and stare at the illuminated screen, tapping at the keys until well after my household sleeps.

I wake the next morning, re-read what I wrote, and decide that not only is it a story worth telling, it may be the best thing I've ever written.

Having never written a book before, nothing but a couple of novel starts over the years, I spend time brainstorming on paper, writing down memories, reading books on writing. I find that despite my inclination to write and having a solid story to tell, the ability to map out a book is not as natural as I had hoped.

Structure, plot, story arc, where to begin and where to end ... it's all foreign.

I know what I want to tell, I know the meaning behind the story, I just don't know how to tell it.

It's slow going at times, this weaving of narrative. But I return again and again to what I felt when I began -- it's a story worth telling. So I will tell it.

Taking His Name

2011-04-15T20:25:00.000-07:00

I pay for groceries and the check-out attendant says, "Thank you, Mrs. LeBlanc!" Sometimes they pronounce it correctly, but oftentimes they say "La-BLANK" or stumble over it apologetically.

When I married my husband, I wore a white dress, vowed to love and honor him through all my days, and became a LeBlanc. I took his name as my own, changing my driver's license and social security card to make it official.

When we become a Christian, we take the name of Christ and use it to identify ourselves. Lately I've been mulling over the seriousness of that name-change. If we profess to be Christian, we are "taking the Lord's name." We equate the command not to take the Lord's name in vain with profanity, but what if we profess to belong to Christ (we are His church, His bride, part of His family) and the name change is the only change we make? What if people stumble over the idea that I am a Christian; they had no idea or see nothing in me to merit the name-change?

What if His name, when used as my own, contains no value? Is that not vanity? Have I not, then, taken the Lord's name in vain? For nothing?

Jesus paid a high price for us. He has plans for us, for great futures of hope. He remembers us by the marks in His hands.

What can I give in return?

the little things

2011-03-29T00:11:00.000-07:00

fuzzy socks that warm numb toes, with polka dot grippies to keep me from falling

heating pads that ease stiff joints and relax amped-up pain

new pens with plenty of ink

hot tea & hot coffee

peanut butter cookies

leggings

the tiny hummingbird i saw in my flowering tree outside my kitchen window

daffodils pushing through cold earth

a friend to count on

books & movies

naps

it's just the little things sometimes, isn't it?

the whisper of my heart

2011-03-28T13:17:00.000-07:00

they saw a setback where i felt a death

they sent a card when i craved a funeral

they've long forgotten while i remember on

"how many children do you have?" they ask

"two," i say, while my heart whispers three

and i hold them all, two in arms and one in heart

"he will wipe every tear from their eyes.

there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain,

for the old order of things has passed away."

~ revelation 21:4 ~

Too Much Fun

2011-03-26T21:59:00.000-07:00

Had to share this video I made with my four year-old. She talks about her day

involving church,

lunch with family,

art,

tea and cookies

and about her love for her daddy.

Hope your weekend is "too much fun" as well.

A Sweet Week: Writing and Baking

2011-03-18T15:02:00.000-07:00

This week I baked cookies a lot. I made giant chocolate chip, peanut butter dipped & drizzled in chocolate, and soft molasses. Yum!

I also spent several hours writing. {delicious!}

A few years ago I started writing a book about my grandfather and his relationship with my firstborn daughter. Long before I was born he and his first wife had two beautiful baby girls. They both died before their second birthdays. Throughout the years, he was very quiet and never interacted much with me and my siblings and cousins. I had no idea why for years.

When my daughter was born, with a little encouragement, he held her.

He held her.

And that changed everything. They developed such a sweet bond.

His last two years of life were her first two.

He had more time with my daughter than he had with his own.

This is the story I am writing.

And when I needed a break this week, I baked cookies, and when I was ready for a break from cookies, I wrote.

And it was a sweet week indeed.

I wish you all a very sweet weekend.

When Every Heart Stops Beating

2011-03-09T18:00:00.000-08:00

There comes a moment when every heart stops beating.

Classmates, community members, an aunt killed in an instant in car accidents.

An irreplaceable family member taken unexpectedly by a massive stroke.

A grandmother, bruised and frail, gone to leukemia.

The baby we never got to hold...

... and this loss, short in life, long in love, shows me how to love better -- to be more intentional. It urges me to love with my whole heart, to love fully every day, because every life we touch, every person we love is fragile. And it can all be gone tomorrow.

We need to love better, because there comes a moment when every heart stops beating. Yours. Mine. Our spouse's. Our children's. Our parents'.

So we love right now, in this moment, with this breath and this heartbeat.

In His Image

2011-03-08T13:47:00.000-08:00

“So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them.” Genesis 1:27

We often hear that our younger daughter Natalie looks like me, and while she also has some of my husband Jonathan’s features, in her eyes and smile I see a reflection of myself. Our older daughter, Hannah, bears more of a resemblance to Jonathan and his mom. One of the thrills of parenthood is seeing these glimpses of ourselves in our children.

This makes me wonder what God sees in me, His daughter. When my Heavenly Father looks at me, does He see His reflection?

The Bible says that we are created in the image of Christ. How can I, with my selfishness and weaknesses and flaws, possibly reflect Christ?

Do I have His eyes? Eyes that see through the bad to the good? Through the prickliness to the insecurity; through the judgment to the hurt? Eyes that see needs?

Are my hands like His? Hands that create, welcome children, bless people, heal, and serve? Hands that meet the needs I see with His eyes?

Are my feet His feet? Feet that go the distance to comfort and spread His good news? Feet that step out in faith and test the water?

All I know for sure is that the cry of my heart – my heart that He softens and shapes with His plans for me, with the losses and the victories – is to reflect Him. The external really makes no difference.

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This post is featured today as Rest Ministries' daily devotional.

Rest Ministries is a Christian non-profit organization serving people with chronic pain and illness.

Journal Cover Design

2011-03-01T14:46:00.000-08:00

I decided last night that it's time for a new journal. The one I'm working in is pages shy of being full, it's expanded by inserts of many types, and no longer lies flat. Not to mention, today begins a fresh month, and this month begins a new season.

So today I got out a blank spiral bound journal (actually sold as a sketchbook, it has plain white thick pages that ink won't bleed through, heavy enough paper that you can attach things to, and large enough (7.5x10") that I don't feel cramped on the page, but not so big that I feel intimidated by all the space) and set to work.

I wanted to incorporate themes of season in transition, change, beauty & hope, and fresh, new beginnings.

I got out my scrapbook paper (I actually don't scrapbook, per se, although my journals include some scrapbooking) and looked at the all the papers I have. I was drawn to a few, so I set those out, and thought about how to layer and what design elements I would want to use.

Anyway, long story short, this is what I came up with:

I chose a black base paper with white polka dots to symbolize winter, darkness, snow...

On top of that I layered a spring-like image of pink hydrangeas {incidentally, my mom's favorite flower}, to indicate beauty, spring, and new beginnings.

I added the butterfly on the bottom corner to indicate change, transitions, hope, freedom and peace.

Then, to top it all off, I added mini silver scrapbooking brads to be the centers of the hydrangeas. I loved how this made the whole thing pop, and the silver lends a bit of richness and symbolism of good things to come.

I love how this cover turned out!

Book Review: Plain Wisdom

2011-02-28T18:29:00.000-08:00

Plain Wisdom: An Invitation into an Amish Home and the Hearts of Two Women offers a pleasant view into the friendship of Christian novelist Cindy Woodsmall & Amish woman Miriam Flaud.

Woodsmall & Flaud share their hearts and wisdom in this book, a combination of stories, lessons learned, and recipes I look forward to trying.

I truly enjoyed my time with this book. The only way it could've been better would be hearing these stories in person, over Shoofly pie and coffee.

*Waterbrook Multnomah Publishers provided me with a complimentary copy of this book in exchange for my review.

Snow Days to Remember

2011-02-28T13:47:00.000-08:00

Recipe for a Memorable Snow Day:

Snow

2 Sweet Girls

Hot Coffee & Hot Cocoa

Movies & Blankets

Coats & Mittens

Cookie Baking

Mix together. Photograph each part. Slow down & Enjoy!

"Winter is the time of promise because there is so little to do -

or because you can now and then permit yourself the luxury of thinking so."

Stanley Crawford

Breathe In, Breathe Out

2011-02-19T17:58:00.000-08:00

The golden sunlight washes over our small coastal town and I breathe in a deep sigh of renewed strength, and breathe out a breath of thankfulness.

Tragedy rocked our community last week. A 33 year-old mother and her 8 year-old daughter were killed together in a horrible car accident. Our little town is mourning.

As the questions and grief raged within our hearts, the wind, rain, and hail raged outside our doors.

Wednesday we gathered to remember this beautiful duo that was an integral part of our little town. By Wednesday night I was emotionally drained, exhausted from the tears shed over these precious lives and this week's physical pain and anxious about new symptoms. I went to bed and cried and prayed and tossed and turned, tangled in sheets and hard questions.

Sleep finally came and the next day my little home and its wooden floors were bathed in the same beautiful, soul-renewing golden sunlight we have today.

I breathed in a deep exhausted breath and breathed out all the hurt and the fear and the questions, and remembered that God is still here, He hasn't changed, and that no matter what comes, He will walk with us.

Sing Over Me

2011-02-17T11:57:00.000-08:00

"The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing.” (Zephaniah 3:17)

Severe pain sent me to bed one day. Curled up, waiting for medication to deliver relief, tears spilled down my face. Hannah, my compassionate 6 year-old, crawled in next to me and stroked my hair as she began to sing to me, “Precious Girl / God loves you / God has a plan for you / Precious Mom.” I had never before heard the words or the tune Hannah sang and I felt incredibly comforted by her voice and her little hand on my head.

Peace and comfort settled over me like a warm blanket, and I knew that the words being sung over me and the hand delivering comfort were not just Hannah’s, but also God’s.

God speaks to us in many ways – through the Bible, through music, and through those willing to be His voice and hands. I doubt Hannah had any idea how much God was using her in that time of pain and fear, but I knew.

It is easy to feel a sense of isolation with chronic illness. It comforts me to know that God cares about all things, including my pain.

--------------------

This post is featured today as Rest Ministries' daily devotional.

Rest Ministries is a Christian non-profit organization serving people with chronic pain and illness.

Image is my own original artwork.

I'll Remember...

2011-02-14T22:31:00.000-08:00

Last night, after my little girls were tucked in and sleeping snugly, I got to work...

I set the table for Valentine's morning with place mats, doilies, china tea cups & saucers, chocolates and candy hearts and tiny dishes filled with heart-shaped marshmallows.

In the center of the table, I filled a little tin basket with tiny notebooks and pens. {Because you just never know who you'll want to jot a little note to on Valentine's Day.}

I went to bed, snug in the arms of the man who has been my Valentine for the last 9 years, and fell asleep to music we listened to when we were dating.

Early this morning, I woke to the sound of little girls, as usual. I got up, eager to implement the day's plans...

Their little faces, 4 and 7, were filled with wonder as Hannah proclaimed,

"This is the BEST Valentine's Day EVER!"

and Natalie asked, "Can I eat my chocolate NOW?"

We had cinnamon rolls and apple slices and yogurt. Little girls had hot cocoa with marshmallows, while Jonathan & I enjoyed coffee with chocolate raspberry creamer.

For one morning, Mama was not ill. Mama was not in pain. All the world was magic. {That's what they'll remember.}

I'll remember their faces, full of delight, and Hannah saying,

"Valentine's Day is a day to let all your love out...
That's what it's all about."

I'll remember the handmade card she made me that said,

The BeST DaYes Kum Wenn You ARe NIR

{the best days come when you are near}

I'll remember little Natalie, sidling up beside me to wordlessly rub my back now and then.

I'll remember my husband walking in the front door at the end of the day, tall and handsome, carrying a bouquet of red tulips and an envelope which read

Jennifer
My
Love

That's what I'll remember.

What will you remember?

Submission

2011-02-06T17:14:00.000-08:00

As a writer and advertising designer, I just love this word submission. When submitting, whether it's an ad to a newspaper or a piece to an editor or publication, I breathe a sigh of accomplishment.

I've made something out of nothing, polished it, and turned it in. It's submitted. It's a sense of creation and a sense of relief to have finished. I've done my best and it's in someone else's hands now.

When I think about submitting to God, it hasn't had quite that same connotation in the past. I haven't thought of it as a sense of accomplishment to submit, or a sense of having done my best. But isn't that what spiritual submission is? We do our best with something, perhaps grapple with it in many forms, and then finally say, "I've done my best with this. I'm handing it over to You, God."

I'm submitting. I place it in Your hands. I trust You.

I give this to You for examination, consideration, Your say. Your will be done.

There's beauty and sublime peace in the letting go of control; there's peace in the submission.

Rest Ministries

2011-02-05T12:53:00.000-08:00

I am pleased to be joining Rest Ministries' team of devotional writers. Rest Ministries is a Christian non-profit organization dedicated to serving people with chronic pain and illness.

You can find a bit of my heart here today.

Sweet Sisters

2011-02-04T22:05:00.000-08:00

Today was one of those stressful days where there's far too much to squeeze into the hours. Both of my girls have colds and are well enough to be running around, but just sick enough to be whiny.

I was in the middle of cleaning and turned around to see both girls cuddled into the nook of our love seat, Hannah's arm around Natalie while she read aloud from a library book. Just for those few minutes they were still and sweet. I love their sweet sister moments.

Always and Forever Love

2011-01-29T08:00:00.000-08:00

This man I exchanged rings with, tall, dark haired, and broad shouldered, helps me tuck clean sheets around mattress, and tells me he is going to massage my back. This man, who lost sleep last night due to my pain-filled, fitful slumber, wants to help soothe the ache and the pain away, shoo it off so I can find rest tonight. He spends time massaging oil into my back and shoulders, calves and feet, kneading out the tension and soreness as best he can, before tucking me between clean sheets, plugging in heating pad to deliver warmth to my spine, and going to gather my nighttime meds and cold water.

He has always amazed me, this man, with his ability to love me so well. He has taken tender care of me post-op times five, when depression reared its ugly head, through loss & grief, through episodes of extreme pain, and now, when chronic illness came to call.

And somehow, despite all of my weaknesses, this man, this one I love, is still happy to spend forever with me.

All I can think is that God truly knows my needs. And since He knows the end from the beginning and sees the future, He knew that I would need this man.

This man, with his unconditional love, has been the closest thing I have encountered to God and His “unbreaking, never-ending, never giving up, always-and-forever love.”*

This is how Christ loves us, His bride! Not willing to spend forever without us, despite our flaws and weaknesses.

How loved are we?

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*If you have young children at home, I whole-heartedly recommend the Jesus Storybook Bible.

Hope for the Weekend

2011-01-28T16:21:00.000-08:00

It's one of those sleepy, rainy Fridays where the exhaustion of the week sets in. An afternoon for rest times and naps and doing the last few things that need to be done to welcome Sabbath.

It's a day where physical weariness reflects emotional weariness.

This week I was introduced, by a friend, to this new song by Matthew West. I wanted to share it here in the hope that you are blessed by it like I was:

Wishing you a restful, rejuvenating weekend. What's on your agenda?

Doing it "All" and Doing it Well

2011-01-27T15:49:00.000-08:00

Today I'm thinking about how to make time for all the important things in my life. If what we focus on is what we succeed at, how do we spend the time to succeed at many things?

I want to succeed at raising my daughters -- be an intentional mother who helps my girls grow to be loving, secure, self-confident, happy and fulfilled women who love God and treat others with respect and compassion.

I want to succeed at marriage -- I don't want my husband to feel like I don't have time for him or for our relationship. I want to celebrate 50 years of marriage with him, unless death claims one of us first. I love that there are often times when either he or I feel that we are the lucky one. I always want to have that kind of marriage.

I want to succeed at homeschooling.

I want to succeed at interpersonal relationships -- investing time and love into my family and friends.

I want to succeed at writing. This is probably the only thing in my life that is purely for me. Writing makes me come alive; it's my passion. Blogging is one small aspect of this category, but journaling, and writing for publication are aspects as well. This category suffers a lot. It just doesn't seem there's time for every aspect mentioned, but I almost constantly have something in this category on my mind.

I want to learn to be intentional with my time and focus. That when I'm mothering, this is what I'm thinking about and 100% plugged into; when I'm working to help support our household income, this is what I'm focusing on, to make sure I do my best work; when I'm writing or engaging in creativity, I allow myself to truly enjoy it and claim that time for myself, without feeling pulled in other directions or guilty for not using the time to clean my house or be taking care of my other responsibilities.

In the past, I've discovered that the way to "do it all" is to not attempt to do everything every day. I surely can't pay adequate attention and time on all of the categories in my life every day and be intentional and stay non-stressed.

I also know that I can't take on too much. I must be intentional about what I say 'yes' to and what I place on my plate of responsibility. I subscribe to the theory that less is truly more. I refuse to give into our societal assumption that busy = important. I'm plenty busy just keeping up with my responsibilities and priorities without maxing out my planner.

Thoughts? How do you give yourself permission to have time for yourself? How do you create space and time for regular attention to your passions? I would love input in the comments section on this.

The Nights that No One Sees

2011-01-25T14:05:00.000-08:00

It comes on gradually throughout the day and by evening I am quiet, thoughtful, moody. By bedtime I feel angry -- at the dishes that are overflowing from the sink for the second or third time today, at all the chores and responsibilities and stressers in my life, and at the lack of solitude and time for myself and the interests I want to pursue.

I go to bed, overheated from anger and doing yet another load of dishes.

I wad up in a ball and press my eyes -- left right left -- and think maybe if I mash my hand against my eyes enough times the tears won't be able to escape.

But they do.

My chin quivers and the tears pours out like they haven't in months and I can't figure out what I'm crying about.

It can't be the dishes.

He says he's sorry and is there anything he can do and volunteers to rub my back, and all I spit out is, "My back doesn't really hurt much right now."

It's 5 years from one of my post-miscarriage surgeries and I know that it's possible that my body stores memory and has some sort of internal calendar and that given the state of the pain in my lower abdomen, even if my best friend hadn't reminded me of the surgery anniversary today, my body would've remembered on its own.

I'm sobbing now. Big, loud, noisy sobs that turn my nose so stuffy I can't breathe and eventually I go to sleep with my mouth open, waking periodically with a mouth that feels like I've been sucking on a cotton ball. But not before I cry out a series of disjointed statements and phrases. Phrases about judgment and feeling uncomfortable in certain settings and the longing and the missing and the stress and the ridiculous things that come out at times like this that really aren't a big deal at all.

In the morning, purple eyelids inflated with tears greet me in the mirror. I feel embarrassed and ridiculous and still quiet -- hushed by the big loss of a very little life.

The Art of Letting Go...

2011-01-24T15:01:00.000-08:00

Throughout the years I have had opportunity to learn how to let go. Of dreams, of capabilities, of loved ones, and even a child.

Now I am learning, again, how to let go. Throughout these last 16 months I have not been physically capable of doing things I want to -- I have missed a school field trip I wanted to attend with my daughter, I have not been able to take my walks anymore, I have not been able to drive myself and my daughters long distances anymore, due to pain and fatigue. I am not able to domestically whirlwind through the house anymore, due to lack of energy and limping. For now, I have let go of journaling retreats. I can't even sleep normally anymore.

I had a thought today... What if every time I have to let something go, I pick up something new?

What if I install new dreams and new goals and new activities that I can do?

What if when I lose out on one child, I gain another? What if since I can't have more kids due to my health, I sponsor one due to the love I still have to give?

What I'm learning is that this is the art of letting go. This is how to retain joy when sorrow comes knocking. This is how to reinvent myself. This is how.

One Thousand Gifts: My Review

2011-01-22T00:37:00.001-08:00

Received and started reading Ann Voskamp's new book One Thousand Gifts today. Now, 100 pages in, I laugh from spontaneous joy, I gulp down the lump in my throat forming from the reminders of hard times, and I feel my eyes being opened in a new way. A way that is so clear I wonder how I have missed it all along.

Ann Voskamp's book is a series of revelations. If you have ever struggled over God's plan in loss and pain, wondered how to find happiness in the mundane, or searched for the keys to slow down amidst schedules and stress, this book is for you.

Don't miss it!

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Don't know Ann? Ann writes the blog A Holy Experience, is a regular contributor on DaySpring's site, (in)courage, is wife to a farmer and homeschooling mother of 6. You'll love her heart and this gift of a book!

Still

2011-01-11T21:04:00.000-08:00

Last year was my first year to adopt a "Word of the Year" and I encouraged you to choose a word as well. The idea behind Word of the Year, or One Little Word as Ali Edwards calls it, is to choose a word to focus your year or your mindset for the year. It's a way to set a very specific priority.

Last year I chose Nest. Nest served me well in 2010 as I focused on raising little girls, making our home a refuge, homeschooling, nourishing our family with fresh bread and hot soups, and creating a comfortable and peaceful dwelling place. When illness struck, it reminded me to simplify; to use my energy wisely.

This year, I mulled over three different words before choosing Still.

A couple of posts ago, I reported feeling better, that although still not well, my treatment plan was helping me. Soon after I typed those words, my condition flared up again.

It's hard to paint a picture for you of what my life is like right now. If you live near me and see me out and about, you might see me limping or looking fatigued, or you might see me looking put together and think I was fine. The truth is that if I'm out and about, it usually means that either I'm having a better day than most, or I have responsibilities I must fulfill. Either way, I expend a great deal of energy, and may well pay for it for days to come. What you don't see is the pajamas and slippers, the heating pad and the pain meds, the recliner and the bed, the rest times and the struggle to get to the phone before it stops ringing.

This health trial has drawn me closer to God, and for that I am truly thankful. I find myself drawn into His hands and His presence in a new way. One that feels richer and more vital than ever before. I don't know what tomorrow holds and sometimes I fear the future and its possibilities, but I know that He is holding me.

So I chose Still ...

To remind me to rest, both physically and spiritually ("Be still and know that He is God." Psalm 46:10)
To encourage me that no matter what, God is still the great God He has always been, He still walks with me, and I am still His girl ("I still belong to You; You hold my hand." Psalm 73:23)

"My health may fail, and my spirit may grow weak,

but God remains the strength of my heart; He is mine forever."
Psalm 73:26 {new living translation}

I want to remember that I am special and God still has a great purpose and plan for my life. Life in a recliner? God can still use that, especially if I am writing for Him. Life in a wheelchair? God can still use that too, no problem. I know, too, that despite physical adversity, if I keep my attitude positive and my eyes open, I will grow. I can still do what I've always felt called to do -- encourage. I can still be a mom and be a good one, even if I can't do everything I want to, or do it alone, or do it perfectly. Sometimes perfection is just perception anyway.

I want to remember to stand tall and keep fighting and not give in to the lies that I am not good enough. I am still just what God can use.

Once Upon a Time: A (Not So) Fairy Tale Ending

2011-01-05T15:47:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time there was a happily expectant family. Already blessed with a child, they were thrilled to be pregnant with their second child. They told all of their friends and family, purchased crib bedding and nursery decor, and the pregnant woman went to bed every night with her hand on her belly and What to Expect When You're Expecting on her nightstand.

And then something completely unexpected happened. Towards the end of her first trimester, the woman went in for an ultrasound, and with no warning whatsoever, was told that her baby had died.

We are that family.
I am that woman.
That was our reality just over five years ago.

A procedure was done and I went home no longer pregnant.

And then, perhaps because I was doing such a good job of keeping it together emotionally, my body fell apart.

Four surgeries happened: in January 2006, again in January 2006, January 2008, and March 2008.

And in between the surgeries, we were given the gift of joy: another baby. Born healthy.

And in between the surgeries and the pregnancy and the delivery and the raising of two beautiful girls, my body continued to throw a fit, this time in the form of chronic pelvic pain, often severe.

So here we are today, five years later, and our daughters are healthy and happy. Our youngest recently turned 4 and we are gearing up to celebrate our firstborn's 7th birthday, later this month.

And we are still one child short of what we expected.

So just after the 5th anniversary of losing our middle child, whom we named and loved and miss, we decided to pay tribute, somehow, to the memory of that sweet baby we wanted so badly.

Allow me to introduce to you a little boy who has stolen our hearts. This is Cristian:

Cristian is a little boy from South America, about to celebrate his 5th birthday. It is our privilege to sponsor him through Compassion International*. Cristian was born just a couple months before our baby's due date.

Sometimes Happily-Ever-After doesn't happen, but in this case, we found a way to make some good from bad.

*If you have never heard of Compassion, please take a moment to visit their website and learn more about them, 'Like them' on Facebook, or even consider sponsoring a child.