Easter 2020

As I reflect on the day... different in almost every way from any Easter to come before it.... I’m reminded that this Easter is much like the first Easter.
There is a lot of uncertainty. There is certainly no lack of fighting. There is fear. There is betrayal and hurt.
There is death. There is the sting of it that begins at first brush to overwhelm.
But as Easter passes to Monday morning I am left with this hope and promise.
After every night there is a dawn.
After every storm there is a breaking of clouds that yields to the sun.
After even the darkest times in our lives... hope will break through as well.
If Easter speaks to anything it is that death, fear, and pain have lost their final sting!
Honestly? I cannot see it right now. I’m worn through from these fights!!
But, If my Heavenly Father and my Earthly Father gave me one massive gift, it was optimism.

See that little glimmer of light breaking through ahead of us?
It’s the morning.
It’s almost here.
Do not fear to hope.
Run to the light. Run ahead and see. It is finished. And it is good.

-love to you all - Gina

What's On My Heart

I've shared a lot of our journey with little man with the world. I've kept big chunks of it to ourselves, and I always will. I try to mostly share the emotions... the things that are common to almost every journey of foster parents and children.
Some months ago I wrote a blog to little man's bio parents.
Tonight I read it again and wept.
With all my heart when a little, or not so little, heart passes into our lives I root for their biological family. That is the role that we signed on for when we went into this process.
I want that to work in a way that I know I cannot explain to anyone.
And sometimes, I feel like I need to tell people why.
So, here is the cold hard fact spelled out for ya.
All of us are a few bad decisions from life going completely upside down.
I promise you, zero parents hold that tiny baby's live in their bodies and then arms... and plot on how they are going to lose them.
But it happens.  The statistics are there by the hundreds, over 500 just here in our two counties of NWA.  That's a lot of little lives tossed into the balance. And it's for so many different reasons.
What's best for them? Healthy, happy, healed, and whole families.
The system, flawed as it may be, does everything it can to make that a reality with the family of origin for that child. But it is not always possible.
Enter one of us... one of my people... the foster families.
I know there are good and bad foster parents. I'm not naive.. but here in the trenches I have not met one.I have met dozens who wear themselves out, mentally, physically, and spiritually for the little humans placed in their paths.
What else do they have in common.  They are also hoping, against hope sometimes, for a sweet reunion. And I know this, because I have seen the other side of those reunions.
I think I'm rambling a bit.
So what's on my heart tonight?
The hundreds of biological parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, etc... who have kids sleeping in a foster home or shelter tonight.
Please pay for them.
Pray that they chose the hard path for their children
Pray for their health and paths to wellness.
Pray for those who are facing the ultimate loss of a child that they desperately love but cannot take care of right now.

That mother or father - they may have talked to you on the phone today.They may have taken your order at a restaurant. They may be next door to you.

What else can you do?  There are organizations just about everywhere that stand in the gap to support biological families toward reunification. They need support. They need prayers. They may need you.

Do what you can, with what you can, for as long as you can...

-Gina

When It's Confirmed!

Just after I posted my last blog, catch-up here if you missed it... a dear friend of mine messaged me with a verse that God had given her.

Y'all it rocked me.  Because it definitely follows what I believe God has in store for this year.

Isaiah 54:  1-3  

“Sing, barren woman,

    you who never bore a child;

burst into song, shout for joy,

    you who were never in labor;

because more are the children of the desolate woman

    than of her who has a husband,”

says the Lord.

 “Enlarge the place of your tent,

    stretch your tent curtains wide,

    do not hold back;

lengthen your cords,

    strengthen your stakes.

For you will spread out to the right and to the left;

    your descendants will dispossess nations

    and settle in their desolate cities.

But here is why it rocked me?! One of the conversations God and I have had off and on for the past 6 years is how all of the stories I have seen in scripture about women who weren't able to have children.. ALL ended with them giving physical birth to a child.  ALL of them that I could find had the same miracle ending.

Why were there no words to someone who wasn't going to get that gift?  I like a happy ending as much as the next gal.  But clearly that is not every woman's destiny.

Oh, but there were words for that... in Isaiah.  Beautiful promises of descendants like an Abrahamic promise.

I had to share it... because maybe you are there to?!  Maybe you can't have children. Maybe you've had a child, but have been unable to have a second.

You are not forgotten.

Families come in all shapes and sizes.  

Harvest.

-Gina

One Word - 2019

As I start this blog, the first in a long while, it’s barely Christmas Eve – 2018. I love Christmas usually. It’s been a top holiday for my entire life. But this year, is a real struggle.

I’m adding a nice disclosure at the top here, because dudes… you may not want to delve in to this.

And ladies – if you have any infertility triggers this may not be the blog for you.

Ready – here we go…

This year caps off a 6 year fertility journey. I say that because it truly was a story with twists and turns with some highs… and some crushing lows.

I say ‘was’ because that journey came to its official end on 12/13/18. I went in for an exploratory surgery to remove a cyst on an ovary and left completely barren.

I knew that a hysterectomy was a distinct possibility. I knew from all of the scans and studies of all things chick related, that it was quite possibly a big old mess down there.  I mean, two little lives had started a journey there and checked out well ahead of their expected stay. The ultrasound and CT scans from the ER both showed unmistakable issues.

The doctor prepped Al and me before anesthesia to make double sure that I was ready.  I laughingly told him that my uterus wasn’t doing the job I’d hired it on for, so it might as well go.

It’s easier to be all giggles about that in an abstract sense for sure. It was the right decision for me. Out of my 28 day cycle – regular as clockwork – I had 3 days of horrific pain cause by the cyst every other month or so. Then every single month for the past 3 years I had close to a week of debilitating pain as the fibroids that took over my uterus tortured me into submission.

Womanhood is not for the faint of heart.

This season always struck me as so full of hope. In each of our years since marriage I was sure that we were closing in on our miracle. My “word of the year” often reflected that – hope – joy – journey – renewal.

This year that specific hope, the hope for biological children, is gone.

On the bright-side, I don’t have people telling me they are sure I’ll get pregnant as soon as we adopt.

Gone will be the hopeful – all in God’s timing pep talks.

I never have to smile through a “well at least you’re having fun trying…” K (just don’t… y’all).

Barren  

I’m half tempted to make that my 2019 word.

It seems so final. It’s tinged with a grief I could not have fully expected.

And entering into a holiday that begins with a miraculous birth, the finality of the ending to this journey seems bitter… barren.

LATER

I waited a week to start this back up again. It wasn’t intentional. I think I just needed to sit with these ‘feels’ a bit.  I got nice and sick over that time. A cold took me fully down to my bed for hours out of every day. I’ve spent a lot of time praying. I’ve spent a lot of time crying. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking.

------Lest you think me super devoted, I’ve also binged an entire series of baking shows on Netflix-----

Every year for the last probably 15 (I need to check my journal to be sure), I have chosen to pick a word for the upcoming year. Resolutions are generally pointless.

In the past, I have found focus in a word, just one word usually, that gave me something to push into.

When I started this, I jokingly said that maybe “barren” should be my word. Ok, maybe not entirely joking. It’s that dark and sarcastic humor that has become a pretty steady coping mechanism.

But barren is definitely not my word.

So what is?

Harvest

As I am awake again tonight going over so much in my heart, Psalm 126 keeps rolling around.

I was going to just pick a piece of it here – but it all applies.

When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion, we were like those who dreamed.

Our mouths were filled with laughter, our tongues with songs of joy.

Then it was said among the nations, “The Lord has done great things for them.”

The Lord has done great things for us, and we are filled with joy.

Restore our fortunes, Lord, like streams in the Negev.

Those who sow with tears will reap with songs of joy. Those who go out weeping, carrying seed to sow, will return with songs of joy, carrying sheaves with them.

Harvest

2016 – 2017 – 2018 I sowed with tears. I lost things that almost no one knows about. I grieved hard. But I sowed. No to be all “own horn tooter…” I got the privilege to share about my faith multiple times. I got the joy of leading a whole group of people in a verse by verse study of Revelation – start to finish – every line. I got to continue to help lead worship at church.

I chose to sow. I wanted to give up. I wanted to give up a whole bunch of times. I had to lay low a few of those times because of how dark some of them got.

My actual conversations on the way into surgery were about God's calling on us into foster care. The last thing I remember, was telling the nurse about the faithfulness of God in that journey.

I chose to sow.

2019 – It’s harvest time.  I feel it within the depths of myself. I don’t believe that a calendar flipping over defines a fresh start.  What I do believe, is that it is a good place to plant a memory stone (see Joshua 4).

I’ll keep sowing too, because some of these things still need planting (hello long lost book writing) and tending to (hello old daily devotional).

Harvest – 2019 – It’s that year!

-Gina

Dare Not Trust the Sweetest Frame

I love old Hymns. I love how a song written 150 years ago can still strike a chord in my soul and bring something totally new out.

Today, it was this one... interspersed with a song called Cornerstone.

My hope is built on nothing less

Than Jesus’ blood and righteousness;

I dare not trust the sweetest frame,

But wholly lean on Jesus’ name.

The oddest thing hit me while singing it today. What does it mean to "trust the sweetest frame?

So I did what everyone does in 2018 and searched the web for it.

But there is really not a definitive answer. What does that let me do?

It lets me search a bit deeper for why I was so undone by these lyrics today.

Once again, for the hundredth time in the foster journey, we are faced with uncertainty.

Things can turn so quickly. And you can go from 1 child to 2 (or 3).... or none.

What is the frame that my heart/spirit is compelled to trust?

Today - slamming into me like a ton of hymnals - I realized it was my own planning.

See, I have the frame for our family all set out. I have the future set in a picture on the wall.

"This is what I want God... work within that frame ok?"

But I dare not trust even the sweetest frame.

My plans rarely work out like I think they are going to. 

I caught my reflection today in the car door as little man laughed and giggled as we drove home from church.  I am happy in this frame. I would be content to let my family stay this way exactly.

But that is most likely not the path we are walking on.

The sweetest frame.

This is the life I wanted. It's the life I begged God for many times. There are laughs I never could have scripted. There are lows I would have chosen to avoid. But there is joy, so much joy.

Sweetest frame.

My carefully laid out plans - that frame - can fall apart in one instant.

If my trust is in the plan, instead of the Author of all plans, I am set up for great pain.

Frames and plans will be broken. He, will not.

I will be broken. He will not.

So I dare not trust my own sweet frame... but wholly lean on Jesus name.

-Gina

The Other Mother

There is an aspect of foster parenting that many people never consider - Biological Parents.
It is super easy to be on the outside of this broken system and judge people who you know nothing about. "I would never" sounds good in theory. But real life is just not that black and white.
It is way less easy to look in the eyes of parents whose world has been stripped and judge them.
In our lives, we are all one dumb decision away from our world crumbling.

I met them today. It's our first case where we've had such direct involvement with the family. I was prepared to sit and cry with frustration. I was prepared to sit across from her unmoved.

I was wrong.

I was not expecting to introduce myself and be greeted with a tight hug and a tearful thank you.

I was not expecting to hear their progress and realize that my whole heart - even the part of it stolen by this beautiful baby - longs for their reunion.

These families are not stats on a sheet. They are real people. They face obstacles that honestly make me long to smooth things over for them.

Reality - You don't just foster a kid. You foster a family.

Reality - I've never rooted so hard for someone to shatter my heart to mend theirs.

The journey is hard all the way around because of the broken, broken world we live in.

But there is hope. Rough days are ahead for our sweet boy's mom and dad. I sure would appreciate my praying people to keep them in your hearts and prayers as well.

If we all work together, the future will have our precious boy tucked safely in a room down the hall from people who radically changed the course of their future. They will have done the hard work... for him.
Please God, make it so.

To the Other Mother:
This mother has your back. You can do the hard stuff. You can make the hard choices that this will require.
We are behind you.

-Momma Gina

To The Little Boy, With a Big Piece of My Heart

Sweet Boy,

Goodness you have rocked our world. We thought we were prepared. We always think we know what we are saying "yes" to at that phone call. We never do. Each set of little feet, with their suitcase or garbage bag packed with their lives, comes with baggage that you cannot see as well.
And this week, it almost broke me.   Because I cannot stand the thought sometimes, of what your life will be like somewhere else.

With my brain, I want you to be with parents that are healthy and whole. I root for you parents enthusiastically! It's something that is a paradox for sure. Because I also would love those parents to be us. But I hope that they can pull this out... that they can do the gut-wrenching work that is ahead of them. My heart falters sometimes but longs to see you happy in the path that God has for you.

Precious little man. Holding your hand is a doorway to a life that I have dreamed of for so many years. I truly love you with every bit of me.
My prayer for you tonight is the same as every night for the past few months.
God protect his heart.
God raise him up to follow you.
God help him heal. Help him feel safe, even when the world changes.
When I can no longer hold that hand, or softly stroke your hair, or whisper words of comfort; somehow, I pray that you will remember in your heart that we gave you everything we had.

Dear sweet boy we will love you forever.

-Mommy Gina

You Can Protect Yourself, But Not From Everything

One of the things that comes up a lot in conversations with people about foster care is loss.
I suppose it's inevitable to think about.
I share my adorable kid story with you. I tell you about the cutest thing he learned to do.
Someone always says "that's just it... I don't think I could have that, and then lose it."
I've walked over these past few years with people who have had unimaginable losses in their life.
I've seen grief of so many stripes. Heck... I've lived it.
Great love sets you up for loss in some way every, single time.
It's morbid to think about, but so true.  Death is so inevitable in our lives. Loss is always a threat.
Life is precious. But we would not really ever have a sense of how precious if everyone... every thing... we loved lived on forever.
Life is precious.

Great love is worth that risk.  It's worth even the scariest of risks.
Loving any child inherently sets you up for pain. The child you grew from scratch will say things that will devastate you. They will chose bad things sometimes that will hurt you. They will cause you tears and grief. Some of you grew a child from scratch that has already left you ahead of the time you were ready.
But we are never ready for grief.

Was the love worth it?
Knowing what you know now, would you still risk the love?
I would... I would chose love that ended in pain every time over no love at all.
Because man, love, that is life.

So how can I love that adorable bundle finally sleeping down the hall, knowing that tomorrow isn't guaranteed? How can I love each adorable big and little bundle knowing that most of those journeys end in tears?

How can I not?
I get to kiss endless boo-boos. I get to calm angry tears. I get to laugh. Oh... do I get to laugh. I get to walk through their journeys. I get so see first steps. I get to hear first words. I get rage thrown at me. I get tears.  There are broken hearts, scraped knees, and broken furniture.
There is always love.

And some day - in the much too soon for us future - I may hug this little neck too and send him to be with someone else who loves him.

Is it hard?  Yes.

But I would break my heart into a thousand pieces if it protects his for this time. And I feel the same for the two that came before him... who I still cry over in many ways if I'm being perfectly honest.
That's not "oh how special is Gina!"
To me, that is a living, breathing, pouring out of the love I have been given by both my earthly father (love you Daddy) and my heavenly Father.

... Now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love.

Maybe you are not called out to foster. Can you think of anything this world needs now more than love? What would this world be like if we simply loved our neighbor, as we loved ourselves?
Something to think about my friends.

-Gina

It's not what they told us it would be

Hi there!
I've been gone long enough that those of you who know me probably thought I had given up.
Nope. I'm still here. I've just not written, anything, in a long time.
I have journal-ed my life since I was 16. Pretty faithfully that entire time I wrote.
But the silence on here is mirrored there.
I have not written.
I'm not sure why.
I've had plenty to process... the failed fertility treatments.... the miscarriage... the hope and crashing down of hope.
The room we had set aside for children called to me - empty.  The empty room was such a waste. It called to me. It haunted me.
So ...We've charged fully from one season into the next.
And we started a new chapter in our family.
Fostering and hopefully someday adopting.

We were certified but the empty room stayed empty. From the first signature I walked past that room every night praying for every child that would fill it.
Still it stayed - empty.
We started with a teenager - totally green - complete newbs. We had no idea what we were in for. We learned a lot about a lot in those few months.
We learned sacred secrets. We listened to rage - to pain - to much more than our hearts could take.
And then he ran.
And our hearts broke. We wanted so much for him. We hoped to see things really work out for him - give him a good start to life.
And the empty room - once full of life, music, and laughter - was empty again.

Blessing number 2 came totally unexpectedly and on the exact day that we decided to not re-open the door to fertility treatments. She was to be with us a long time, but you never know. You are never guaranteed time.
For a week - the empty room was filled with pink clothes and pink toys. Little tiny socks. A firecracker wrapped inside a curly headed doll. And we breathed her in and fell in love.
She left suddenly and with no goodbye. Thankfully she went to her family. He safe place here was temporary.
And the empty room - once full of giggles, bedtime stories, hugs, and cries - was empty again.

The third blessing also came as a surprise. He was quick -not even a week after the adorableness of a little girl. And just like that - the empty room is all trucks and blue. Its torn up things, cause he is all boy. It's running and tackling. It's the most adorable kid I've ever laid eyes on. He's beautiful. He is young.
And we breathed him in and fell in love.
The future, is not known.  We've had all kinds of timelines and deadlines.  But the future remains a total mystery.
We want the absolute best for him. We root for his family to come together and make a stable home for him. We pray for them every night. Tonight I tucked him into bed with his cup and his rabbit. I prayed, in the no longer empty room, for this child. I prayed that God would protect his heart and keep it soft. I prayed that his future was bright. I prayed for us to love him with abandon.

You see what they don't tell you, what you could never really learn from anyone else, is how much of your heart you can give away. How many pieces can you break off and send back out into the world? I know for sure, it's more than 2.

I share what I share because I want people to know that we are not special. We are called... and some of you are called to. Some of you are sure that you could never bear loving a child and then letting them go. But, if you are called, you can. You will break and grieve and pick up to love again.

Some of you are not called but you can give in other ways. Date nights and meals. Mowing a foster family's yard. Find the foster momma that just took in a new baby, in addition to her other kids, who refuses to sleep - and keep her precious kiddos so she can take a NAP.
There are a thousand ways that you can help... and that thing that just popped into your head to do.
DO IT!

Foster families will thrive if the community at large and especially the community of faith join them.
If foster families thrive they can create an environment that helps kids and families alike.

It's not what they told us it would be.
It's so much harder. So much more challenging.
It's so very much more than we ever could have dreamed.

-Gina

You're Ok. Oh You're Not Ok? ... Ok...

Lately my mom and I do a lot of laughing when we first start a phone call. Maybe not so much laughter as wry chuckling.  Why?
"How are you?" or some similar question is a natural opening line in a phone conversation.
The problem is that lately the answer ranges from "meh" to almost tears.
Some seasons are just rough.
We have this mistaken image of people that if they aren't bleeding or bruised or bandaged up, they must be fine.
If they aren't crying or raging or whatever-ing as an outward show of emotion things must be a-ok.
Why is that?
Real grief... despair... hurt... anger... whatever-ing makes most of us uncomfortable!
Sometimes it has to be "ok" to not be "ok."
Back forever long ago in this season I started using the phrase "sit in the suck."
I used it for my friends/family who could really let me actually be the mess that I was at that time.
I will never forget standing in the back of church one Sunday and being asked if I was doing alright by one of these friends.
I, out of habit, said I was fine.
She looked straight at me and said "really?"
No. I was not fine.  Bless her for calling me on it.
We are quick to need people to move on when they are hurt.  This is a fast paced world where information gallops up and past us before we even really digest it. Actual grief and suffering is highly inconvenient.
It's why some celebrities who have been dead for 10 years constantly get re-dead on Facebook.  Poor Bob Denver... RIP - but yeah 2005.

                I had a point, I swear.

Ah - we need to be the people who can help others move on by sitting in the suck for a while.
It is ok to be a total mess.  Don't stay there. But if you never let yourself actually go there, you also will never fully be ok again.
Talk to people and then really listen. Don't take "fine" at face value. We are way too busy when we never actually take time to hear what is behind that "fine."

We are in a big mess in this world. I really believe that a lot of it comes from the habit we all have of talking past people, talking at people, and scoring points at other's expense. We have talking points instead of relationships. We have stands instead of friends. We are right. You are wrong. Unfriend me if you don't like it...

We must be "quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry," (James 1:19).

Stop. Sit with me here for a minute. Step away from your social media and go BE somewhere. Read a book to a senior adult who lives alone. Help someone with their groceries, just because you can. See that mother whose kid is pitching a fit for whatever reason.  Solidarity nod to her and hey, can you help?
Or just listen.  Ask someone how they are and really listen for their answer.

And that person - the one you can't stop thinking about right now - they NEED you to BE for them.  They need you to hear them and not be thrown by their hurt, or bad news, or anger.

We have each other.  We should always have each other's backs.  We are all in this together.
Please make it ok for someone to be a not ok mess today.

-G

One Year

It was a year ago today that my phone rang in the early morning hours.

"You need to get here sooner than we planned."
        "We have time. But you need to get here."
It was freezing cold outside. Al's car had flat, and we had left it in a parking lot.  But we needed to get it out of the weather and into the garage.

"You need to get here."
         "Everyone is coming... we want to wait for you to say goodbye."
We waited for a touch of daylight so we could change cars and head south.

It's an odd sensation. It was a week that had lows and medium lows. We knew by mid-week that things weren't great. But we thought we still had time.

"We will wait for you. But we will need to say goodbye."

The freezing cold. The quiet ride to my hometown. The cold walk from our car to a hospital room.

"Take all the time you need." "We can wait as long as you need."

The whispered words. The peaceful breathing sounds. The calm.  The hushed moments of trying to take in every second.  I needed to remember every moment, every sight.

In that last week, many of us couldn't be there with him. So we had made a sign to leave for - when - he woke up, with all of our pictures "You are not alone."

The beeping of machines and continued sounds of a hospital room echoed.

The moments that follow are sacred in my memory.  Shared stories. Laughter through tears.
And always the touching of hands, shoulders, heads... the patting.  Patting is our thing.

One year later - every sight and sound is etched on my heart. It's a record of a day that I still have playing on repeat.

I have said it before, probably because I read it somewhere, that great grief is the leftover from great love.  My brother, he loved well. So we grieve with intensity still. If you were his people, you knew you were loved. He was a fierce protector.  He was a big dude but he also had a big heart. He was a mess. But aren't we all? He had a wicked sense of humor.  In my mind I can easily hear him roaring with laughter as I did one crazy thing or another. He was my big brother. He was one of a kind. When you're little you think that your big brother hung the moon. When you get older, you realize they aren't perfect but there is still always something special about the person who paved the way for you in the family... in life.

"Take all the time you need."

Ok. I'm still here, taking my time.  Still loving you.  Waiting until I get to see you again.

Love you big brother.

-Froggy

New Year, Same You - My Word for 2017

I think this is the latest that I have ever done one of these posts. I usually have my "word" and start mulling it over in early December.
This year, I didn't even have a hint until New Year's Eve.
One last time I'll say, 2016 just stunk for me.  Around Christmas Al and I started to talk about the good things from the year.  That's only natural when you're fixin' to wrap up a year.
It was tough.  We really had to fight to start the list.
It was not a lack of blessing. There are about 1000 good things in any DAY that we are blessed with.  I am not unaware of that.
But it was a tough, tough year.

Ringing into 2017 sees the re-routing of our dream for a family. Good things are coming in other ways on that front. But so many of the things I had really fought for, really prayed for, and really worked for - not happening.

Ringing in 2017 brings the close of the first year without my oldest brother. It's a big gap in our lives.  Great love brings great grief.  And we have mourned.

Ringing in 2017 brings the new chapters of foster care into our lives.  We cannot even imagine what that means yet.

What word could possibly stand in for all that I hope for this year?

It's actually two interlocked words.

Live/Life

2016 was pretty much all about chaos and death. Some years are just like that. Some years you skate out of December with no emotion left.

2017 is about new life. It's about really living. It's about walking a little lighter with decisions finally set.  It's about letting go and thriving.

Live... Life

Breathe.
He's got this.

John 10:10
A thief comes only to steal and to kill and to destroy. I have come so that they may have life and have it in abundance. 

Life.

-Gina

I Counted Up The Cost

We've done this song (below) two Sundays in a row at church. Each time, the same lines wreck me.

My wealth is in the cross
There’s nothing more I want
Than just to know His love
My heart is set on Christ

And I will count all else as loss

The greatest of my crowns
Mean nothing to me now
For I counted up the cost
And all my wealth is in the cross

If you know me personally at all you know that 2016 has been full of startling loss. But as much as I probably over share on social media, the majority of people have no idea just how much loss we've actually faced. It's been a brutal year people. And it just keeps on dealing blows. I've joked multiple times, ok not joked... I've been deadly serious at being ready to run away from this year. I'm ready for the clean slate. I'm ready to put this one away and deal with it in the rear view.

But today as I sang the words "I will count all else as loss" I couldn't help but pause.
Do I really mean that?
         If nothing else good happens...
     If more loss comes...
        If my hearts desire is now completely re-routed or destroyed..
  Is my heart set on Christ?
When I count up the cost, where is my wealth?

Doctor's can only do so much for us. Miracles may come. But they may not come in the way I had set out. I have planned. I have a box that I want God to check/fill.  This right here, God, this is what you must do for me. I've been like a stubborn toddler. This here and now God. This is what is acceptable.

But if my faith means anything, if God is the big God that I believe He is, He won't fit in my box.
And trying to force Him to is disastrous - for me. My plans break against loss. My plans cannot stand up to the whirlwind of life. My plans are fragile... fallible... selfish... s.m.a.l.l.

And I'm undone today. Because I have counted up the cost. Everything is loss.

There is NOTHING more I want. Then just to know His love.
Whatever else comes must come against the strength of that conviction.

Though He slay me,
            I will hope in Him.

And when I stand in glory
My crowns before the Lord
Let this be my confession
My wealth is in the cross

If We're Being Honest

I just realized, the last time I wrote here my brother was still alive. The last time I wrote here I just thought things were tough. I think I'm glad that I had no idea how much rougher things were going to get.
So far in 2016 I have seen a friend die. I have stood at the bedside of my big bear of a brother and said goodbye for now.
I have lost much to this year.
I decided the second half of 2016 needed to live up to its name and bring some redemption.
But so far, well its brought some realizations.

Fertility drugs make you crazy. Well they make you feel crazy. They amp you up emotionally so you manage to either be unhinged crying or unhinged angry.
This time around they are also making me seriously nauseated at everything around.
I am NOT a happy camper.
And I'm really only here for one reason - a simple reminder.

Out there in your world 1 out of every 8 couples is trying desperately to either get pregnant or stay pregnant.
Out there in your world there is a woman whose body has betrayed her over and over again. The one thing that is seems everyone else just "does" her body just doesn't.
Out there in your world there is a man who has no idea how to help his insane wife deal with the ups and downs of a process while he struggles through the process himself.

We are your 1 in 8.  But I bet you know more and you have no idea.

I wish with just about every part of me that I didn't know the freakin in and outs of fertility. I wish I didn't know about the medicines and the ultrasounds. I do not mean the great ones where you see a little body on a screen. I mean the ones where you see a blank canvas and hold your breath and pray you hear "Ok, we can do this." I wish I never, ever had to hear someone say "just relax," or "it'll happen when it happens" or "my cousin's neighbors sister had problems and they did x" or any. other, thing.

It seems weird to put this out into the world. But what seems weirder is to navigate this in silence. I'm a freakin mess right here. I can go from laughing hysterically to sobbing in about 2 seconds. And I literally walled myself off most of this week because I just could not deal with the headaches, the smells, the STUPIDITY (it's me... it's not you), or anything else the world had to toss at me.
All this for a chance, just a chance, at what 7/8 couples take for granted.

Right now, I'm sick and tired. I'm scared to hope for a different outcome. And I'm hoping with all my heart.
If you made it this far thanks for listening.  And please pray that this is our turn around month/
Gina

Redemption - 2016

I haven't blogged in months. Aside from a brief run at Nanowrimo (at which I crashed and burned...), I really haven't written anything in months. I haven't even written in the journal in months.
This is totally not like me. I've at least written something in past years -  probably at least once a week.
But since April, I have been silent.
Why?

Yesterday someone posted an article that stunned me into realizing where I've been over these past 6 months or so.
I've been living in the between.
Last year, during this exact same stretch of time, we were working our plan towards finally expanding our little family. I had hope. I really believed that by the end of 2015 we would have what we had so wanted and desperately prayed for, for so long, I felt like that miracle was right around the corner.
And then our world caved in a little bit. Our focus had to change for a while. Life happened. Plans paused.
And we waited in the between.
I know I have said before that I feel like we are in the hallway but it has only locked doors and no windows. And now I feel like I'm at the place where I just want to chainsaw a hole in there and get on out.
We are just here.

It's Christmas and so far, I have mostly avoided it. I've tried to be all holly and jolly and it just isn't working.
This morning, when we left for church I put on my cheesiest Christmas sweater and yelled "Christmas" at the top of my lungs as we headed to the door. (Think Braveheart without the facepaint...)

I told my husband I was going to drag myself into this holiday kicking and screaming if I had to. Because this time last year I was fully enveloped in hope and spirit. And right now, I'm feeling little to none of it. My hope is bruised. My joy is chipped.

I chose my word for 2016 just the other night. Redemption.
I really feel like most of 2015 needs that. This year was filled with way more drama than we signed up for. We all made it out and frankly that is a miracle.
But I had so much more hope for the year than just making it out.
So, for 2016 I am believing for a flood of redemption. I want to see the tears that fell in the past years redeemed in joy.
I want change, lots of it, drastic GOOD change... and if it came in a crib, that'd be super thanks. :)

I never regret a year, no matter how much pain it held. And I definitely do not regret a second of 2015. Lessons were learned. Bonds were formed. And I learned a lot about myself in the fires of the unknown.

But I am ready to break out of the in between. I am ready to move from this hallway.

Bring it 2016 - Redemption

Oh and if you see me between now and Christmas I am still working on my holly and jolly. So bear with me.

It's The Choices You Make

If I could pick out the moment where my life forever changed in these last 3 weeks, it would not be the one most people would expect.

Yes, hearing that my super hubs had a massive heart attack was life changing, but not the most significant moment for me.

For me, it would be the moment at 3 am when they took my love away for a scan to test for a blood clot in his lungs.

 

He’d been sick up to that point. He had almost died just days earlier, but in the previous 24 hours he had taken a bad turn and really did not look or feel well.

And at 3 am at the foot of his empty hospital bed I had a choice of what I would do.  I was alone for the first time in days. And at 3 am I couldn’t reach out to many people.

I was terrified. For the first time in the whole process I realized exactly what was happening.

First I sobbed, because I hadn’t really cried yet in the days before.  Then I realized that the only person who had any control in the whole situation was there in the room with me.

So I pulled out  my journal, Bible and my iTunes and got with Him.

I think we always wonder who we will be when life knocks us back. Where will we turn? What will we say?

These last few months have been a constant stream of test, doctors, herbs, medicines, hormones and desperate prayers while we tried to conceive.  We've already been through so much all the time wondering... at least me wondering... where God could possibly be.  Why the delay? Why is such a simple thing for millions of other people out of our reach?

Why?

And at 3 am, at the foot of a hospital bed, I just got to lay it all out there.  I won't share everything, because that's 'me and God' stuff.  But I will tell you this: I still don't know why.
I have no answers for why bad things happen to people who are doing their best to serve and trust God. I have no answers for why any bad things happen to anyone.

But I do know this.

When life knocks this family back - we run to - we sprint towards - we dive into - the One who created us. 
Would I like answers?  Yes.
Would I like a baby?  Yep.

But if I don't get either, is He still good? 

Emphatically yes.

Tonight I still go back to the first song that pulled up on my playlist that night.  Because:
"... I will call upon Your name. And keep my eyes above the waves. When oceans rise. My soul will rest in Your embrace
For I am Yours and You are mine"

His,
Gina

Joy... Even here.

It's Sunday night. For the first time ever I'm posting this blog from my phone. Not because I think it's nifty. But because my husband is laying in a hospital bed 4 feet from me.

Friday morning we experienced a total shock. Al had not been feeling well for a little over a day, so he went to his doctor. An hour or so later he was in an ambulance on his way to the hospital.

We now know the feeling "unwell" for days was from a heart attack.
My funny, strong, stud of a husband had a blockage of his left anterior descending artery. You may not know what that is. I sure didn't. But I'll leave the finding of that to you. Just google "widow maker."
Thankfully he got here to the hospital and straight into a lab to get a stent and clear the block.

We were told we would probably go home today. But today has come, and as many plans do, this one hasn't panned out.
Currently we are waiting and watching for some things to improve a bit more.
So here we sit.
Tired. Living in a little bit of uncertainty as we wait to find out what our next steps are.

And as I sit here, even with everything, I'm finding my joy.
Joy. Because life is uncertain but life is still here. He is breathing and that's a miracle.
Joy. Because so many things happened just exactly in the right order to get us here.
Joy. Because I'm learning that the delays of my plans were certainly, with no doubts, God's protection.
Joy. Because I don't have answers yet... But know He does.
Joy. That every minute of my waiting lifestyle prepared me for here.

2015 hasn't gone like I wanted in many ways. But it's still my year of Joy and I'm glad to be living it.

Please pray my friends. God has this.

We need rest. Answers. Easier breathing. Appetite and an end to nausea.
Sweet hubs to wake up feeling much improved tomorrow.
Thanks friends.

Gina.

It's Just This Thing That You Don't Talk About

This blog has often been a place to process through things for me. But it has also been a place where other people can come and say “Oh me too,” “I feel that too” when the hard stuff in life hits.

The last year or so I’ve been mostly absent here.

I’ve alluded to some things happening in our lives. I’ve put statuses on social media that have probably tipped a lot of you off to what has been going on. But I’ve never come out and just said it.

But now, with the permission of my husband, I’m going to lay my heart (really our hearts… which is why I asked first) out here in cyber-land.

When we got married we knew we wanted to have children.  We’d talked about it in the way that most engaged couples do – when we’re ready, we will start a family.

The thing that so few people mention in that lead up is that some people don’t get to choose their “ready.”

We are one of the millions of couples (1 in 8) that want to have children but, so far, cannot.

I will not go into the nitty-gritty details of what our issues are.  I know a lot of people blog their specific issues.  But for me, just for me… in OUR case that will not be happening.

This is such a personal deal. But it’s also so isolating. And that isolation is why I felt the need to blog it in the first place.

What you can know, if you’ve read it online somewhere or your grandmother’s cousin tried it (and it worked for them), we’ve also read it, heard it, and probably tried it. I’m not asking for anyone to tell me about their herbal supplement, their doctor, or their “sure thing.” Everyone is different. People have amazing success stories under impossible circumstances. 

What we can do, we have done/are doing. We’ve been to/are going to experts for our situation.  We’ve prayed.  

We’ve had others pray.  

We’ve begged God.

And here we sit.

I believe that God has a plan for our family. 

I believe that we will have children – the how is a completely shrouded thing to me – but I believe it.

What you can do?  

Pray: If you think about us at all, pray - right then and there. The last few months have been especially hard on us. But the prayers of many and the grace of God have kept us afloat.

 

Understand: I love your children. I am truly happy for you if you have/had/are going to/ just announced that you are expecting. But some days, I just cannot take it.  So if I can't be at your baby shower/birthday party/whatever please don't take it personally. Some days are just tougher than others. Some days I will (thanks super-hormones) cry over nothing. And those days I will usually wall-off a bit. Let me. I will come back around.

Listen: If you're one of my 3D people and I'm around on one of those uber bad days, I may just need someone to 'sit with me in the suck.'  Some days I may need a kick in the spiritual tail, but most days are NOT those days.  I promise I don't hate God. I'm not really mad at Him. But I am processing.  And the processing is messy.  Pray me through it. Walk me through it. But you cannot talk me out of it.  We're just not there.

If you've made it this far.  Thanks.  I love my people who still come here and read. I know blogs aren't the thing they once were. But I still read and therefore I will still write.

Stand with me friend.

We really do believe that the best is yet to come... it's just taking it's flipping time.  :)

-Gina

Deciding that it is going to be OK.

Somewhere a long time ago I ran across the phrase:
Everything is ok in the end. If it's not ok, it's not the end.

Little did I know that this would become a mantra in my life.  :)

I've led a charmed life. I really have. Sure, I've taken the long road to everything I've gotten.
Years to finish college.
Years to find Al.
Years to date Al before marrying. (Worth every minute of every second of every one....)

In reality, my life is just awesome.

However, it's not perfect.
Is anyone's life perfect?  I know I can answer that for you.
No. No one has the perfect life.
We all have struggle. We all have sleepless nights. We all have angst ridden moments.
We all have cliffs that we feel just about ready to topple over at any minute.

Life.  It can kinda seem sucky at a moment's notice.

Life.  We cannot control it.

But we can decide that it is going to be OK. If there is one thing that I know with unwavering certainty it is that you have gone through a rough patch. You're either there, coming up for air, or going there. 
That is reality.
But no matter where you are in that path, you can know that it is going to be OK.
Why?
Because even pain must someday end.  The worst of tragedy cannot last forever.  Every single earthly pain will someday be completely erased.
Lamentations 3
Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,
    for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
    great is your faithfulness.

Struck down, but not consumed.
Knocked down, but not out.
Hurt, but not destroyed.

If you wake up tomorrow breathing, but not OK, that is OK!  It's not the end. Draw that breath. Get up. Keep fighting.

Down, but not out.
Hobbled, but not broken.
Broken, but not dead.

Keep fighting.

This is not the end. You are still here.

Keep fighting.

-Gina

Faith and Joy

We've already established that my word for 2015 is joy.  The funny thing about joy is that people often mush it together with "happy."
Joy and happy can be in the same room together.
But they can also exist on their own.
Joy, despite happy, is what I want to talk about today.
There is a joy that deepens through pain.
It is an emotion that is difficult to hold. It is almost impossible to describe.
But it is deep. It is a well that I want to drop down in and live with for this whole year.
Why?
Because I cannot control happiness. I cannot control what may, or may not happen in 2015.
But joy... I can reach for that.
We have a lot happening in our lives right now that we just can't get into on social media - not even with my blog people.
What I can say is "I am choosing joy." 
In the end of it all, I believe that God is still good.
I believe that He can work in painful situations and use them for His glory.

I believe that every moment, every breath, and every thing are known by Him.
From the moment of conception to the last molecule of air we draw in, our times are in His hands.
The bigger revelation for me in this season:
Even in pain - He is still good.
Nothing that I can go through can wipe away His worthiness of my praise.
He is good.

There may be tears.... but there will also definitely be J-O-Y.

-Gina