Deep

I've spent some time today browsing through the blogosphere, and as I read through several posts that paid homage to 2010 and voiced hopes for 2011, it suddenly struck me that tomorrow is the first day of a brand new year.

I always like the idea of a clean slate, a fresh start. I love the feel of the house when all the Christmas decorations are put away. I love the space, the bareness, the simplicity. I love returning to a sense of routine after the holiday chaos has subsided.

It's strange to think that this is how I felt about 2010 when it was just starting. Now, as we live out the last few hours of this year, it's hard to believe that at one time it, too, was a new year with a fresh start. Now it has run its course, its slate is full, covered in writing. Some paragraphs are lovely, some are hard to read, and some of the page is full of scribbles that I still haven't made sense of yet.

It feels too overwhelming to do an exhaustive recap of this past year. Something in me resists it. Perhaps I don't want to revisit certain things, perhaps it just feels like too much to revisit in one sitting.

I started back to school about a month ago and I'm enjoying it. I'm taking my advanced literary nonfiction workshops right now, which means I'm doing a lot of writing about...myself. The past few days I've been working on a manuscript that's due next week. It is the beginning of what I hope will be my thesis project, a personal biopsy of marriage, motherhood, and military life, with faith interjected throughout.

The process of writing has so much to teach. These past few days I've immersed myself back in my own memories in order to better tell the story I'm working on, and I've realized how much there is to those memories when I allow myself the time to examine them. Philip Gerard writes,

"in the act of revisiting our lives, we also gain something important: We recover memory. And in so doing, we come to understand our own lives better. In the end, that may be the best--if most selfish--reason for writing..."

Gerard says that "memory begets memory," and this is proving to be true. The more I remember, the more I remember. I've recently been planting myself back in the springtime of 2010, in the anxious weeks just before Chris departed for Afghanistan. I've also gone back, over six years ago, to the springtime of 2004, when Chris and I first met. The incredible thing for me about writing these stories out on paper is that I'm starting to see God in so many details I'd never made sense of before. It's made me wonder how many other places He's been in my past that I've failed to recognize.

The common thread between the spring of 2004 and 2010, other than the fact that they preceded summer deployments, is the Pacific Ocean. I've been thinking quite a lot about that big blue expanse of water, and how God took us there in the springtime in both of those years. It's just now that I'm starting to understand that perhaps that wasn't a coincidence. Perhaps He was trying to tell me something, something that was uniquely communicated through that particular place.

Chris and I were talking about it last night, the Pacific. I grew up on the Atlantic, so I'm always in awe of how different, how blue, the Pacific is. The unique thing about the Pacific ocean is that it gets very deep very fast. It's lovely to look at, it looks good from a distance, but the closer you get to it the more terrifying it is. I remember, over 6 years ago, when Chris and I sailed over it and swam in its depths. Within the first two hours on the sailboat I threw up. I had to drug myself with Dramamine to survive the first leg of the trip. At certain points of the journey, not even a tiny speck of land was visible, only water, deep deep water. But over time I started to enjoy the adventure of it, the choppy, rocking, loss-of-control freedom of it. I remember how frightening and exhilarating it was to plunge into its mysterious, unfathomable waters. Its depths are gauged in miles. Its water is purer, bluer, than any ocean I've seen.

Revisiting the vivid details of sailing on the Pacific, swimming in it, watching its waves crash on the shore, has made me realize how much God is like the ocean. Lately, listening to Him and following Him has felt like swimming in the Pacific. It's been terrifying, exhilarating, risky, deep, refreshing, all-encompassing.

2010 brought a lot of change for our family. It gave me a big dose of perspective, a hunger to live my life differently, a yearning to stop trying to do it all by myself. Had it not been for the hard things, I don't know that I'd be so ready to jump into His deep waters. But I am, and I know 2011 is probably going to be a wild ride...

How did 2010 impact you, and what are you hoping for in 2011?

All In

I went to church this morning with just the girls. Chris slept in today because he was up yesterday morning with Tess at 4am (she was too excited to sleep in anticipation of all her gifts)! So today I took the morning shift and decided to go to church because I was dying to get out of the house and have some peace and quiet. I dropped the girls off in their Sunday-school rooms and settled into a chair by myself in the sanctuary. The church was pretty empty today, I presume because of Christmas, and I enjoyed the feel of it. I cherish that for one hour, in the midst of a room of other people, I can be alone with my thoughts and God.

Today our pastor spoke on living in the moment--not a very original topic, I suppose, but one that I'm always in need of hearing. One of the points that resonated most strongly with me today:

"Learn how to surrender your moments."

Our pastor talked about surrendering ourselves, each day, each moment, to God, seeking what He wants to do through us. He referenced Luke 1:38, when Mary has just received the news that she's going to be pregnant and give birth to the Son of God, and she says "I'm God's servant...may it be to me as you have said."

Mary has the posture of "I'm in, Lord. Whatever it means, I'm in."

I don't naturally wake up each morning with this attitude. I want to have this attitude on a daily basis, and I know there is immense joy and peace in maintaining this stance in my life, but it just doesn't come naturally. The first thing on my mind in the morning, other than coffee, is "what am I gonna do today?" rather than "What do You want to do through me today?" I need a daily reminder of it in order to practice it. It's depressing how easily I forget.

My whole family is going through a lot right now. My brother struggles with addiction, and these past few months have been pretty intense. My parents have sought out treatment of their own--a group called Al-anon, which is a 12-step program for the family members of addicts, who are typically addicted to controlling the addict in their lives. It's all FUBAR. In the end, addiction is never isolated. It affects the entire family. It's impacted my entire family. And in the end, we are all addicts, whether we realize it or not. Some of our addictions are more socially accepted than others. Recovery is a daily, life-long process.

My mom came for a visit a few weeks ago and shared a lot of what her experience has been like in Al-anon. She reads the 12 steps everyday because she needs a daily reminder to "let go and let God"--one of the many mantras of AA and Al-anon (and I suppose a cliche to some). She knows that she can't control my brother or his addiction--a reality that is both terrifying and freeing. She can only be responsible for herself, and she can only trust that God will take care of everything that is out of her control--including my brother's wellbeing.

This loosening of our grip on the things we love so much is terrifying...and also essential to our sanity.

The irony is that when we let go of the things we want to control, they sometimes have a way of working out on their own, and end up better than we could have orchestrated ourselves. My family is perhaps the healthiest its ever been on an emotional and relational level, and I think it's because we all are realizing that we can't control one another, and all we can do is look to God and do what we can to keep ourselves right with Him. This has led us to have a lot of grace for one another.

This morning in church I was thinking about Mary. She decided to "let go and let God," and as a result, God used her to give birth to His Son, who then gave His life so that we might have it. Mary was an ordinary 14 year old girl, but because she was willing to let God do anything through her, she changed the course of history forever.

I've been pondering the many paradoxes of Christ lately, particularly the one that says "to save your life you must lose it." I am mindful of how much freedom and peace there is when I allow God to do what He wants through me. Submission leads to freedom. It makes me so much more excited about living; it gives me a sense of purpose. It feels good when my day is more than a to-do list of going to the grocery store, starting a load of laundry, changing a poopy diaper, or writing an essay for school. It feels really good to believe that anything is possible, even when the days feel mundane.

Step 3 of the 12 steps is: "made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God..."

I've been a Christian for over 15 years and I'm just now realizing, or perhaps just being reminded, that my life, in fact, is not all about me.

Now and Then

Last year, early on Christmas Eve morning, a most precious gift arrived...

...a 7 lb 9 oz 21 inch baby girl. We named her Lucy, which means "Light." She is a ray of light in our lives and she reminds us of the one true Light of the World, whose birth we also celebrate at this time of year.

(YIKES, someone could use a splash of makeup...)

We brought her home last year on Christmas morning. It was a foggy, damp, overcast morning, just like the one today. I cried as I left the hospital, overwhelmed with emotion, fatigue, and the post-delivery ache all-over. Most of the rest of that morning is a blur.

And now...one year later...my baby is ONE...

And Lucy has grown quite a bit...

And I'm relishing every moment...and thankful for all the joys and hardships of this past year, because perhaps I've grown just as much as Lucy...

My honey is home for Christmas...

...and I feel acutely aware of how precious my family and friends are, how much I love them and need them, and how much I love and need the One who lives in me, who came into the world as a baby so many years ago. This Christmas doesn't feel like a blur...I am savoring each moment...

my cup of joy runneth over...

...and I'm hopeful and excited for what this new year will bring...perhaps another child...this time...a baby boy...

Happy Birthday my sweet Lulu!

Merry Christmas to you all!

Voice of Truth

I know I've been quiet. It's been over a month since I last posted. I suppose I've been waiting to write again until I had something substantial to report. That, and my mind and heart have been full, and sometimes it's hard for me to find words when I feel this way.

Tomorrow is Lucy's birthday and the day after that is Jesus's birthday, and I've been all wrapped up in the significance of what these days are for me. Both are a celebration of life, light, and hope. Lately, Chris and I are finding ourselves in a place where we are seeking more life, more hope.

This morning I went out to do the last bit of shopping in preparation for these two big events. One of the stops I made was to the post office, to mail off our official adoption application. The application is addressed to All God's Children International, and inside, the boxes "boy," "China," and "special needs" are checked.

The past few weeks have been filled with a lot of asking, listening, stillness, reflection, and soul-searching, and our hearts and minds are ready to start this journey. I have a lot of fear and doubt that I have what it takes to do this, and I continually find myself faced with a choice: give into the fear, or push through it.

A few weeks ago I was browsing through Don Miller's book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years. He writes,

"The most often repeated commandment in the Bible is 'Do not fear.' It's in there over two hundred times. That means a couple of things, if you think about it. It means we are going to be afraid, and it means we shouldn't let fear boss us around...fear isn't only a guide to keep us safe; it's also a manipulative emotion that can trick us into living a boring life."

Over the past few weeks, Fear has woken me up in the middle of the night. It whispers things like "This is too much" and "You can't handle this" and "Imagine how tired this is going to make you" and "Your son might have an attachment disorder that you'll never be able to overcome" and "How are you going to handle this and manage another move across the country in 18 months?" and "Imagine all the ways this might negatively impact your daughters."

Yesterday a song came on the radio. Many of you have probably heard it before. I've heard it before, but in the midst of my cynical belief that all Christian music sucks!, I don't think the lyrics ever penetrated my heart as they did yesterday. "The Voice of Truth," by Casting Crowns, says

"But the voice of truth tells me a different story

The voice of truth says 'Do not be afraid'

The voice of truth says 'This is for My glory'

Out of all the voices calling out to me

I will choose to listen and believe the voice of truth."

So, I'm pushing through the fear and choosing to believe the voice of truth, the One who tells me to follow Him, to trust in Him, to pour out my life for Him so that I might find it. We are SO excited to finally start this journey, after months of research, waiting, asking, and listening.

Here we go!

Thanks to all of you for your prayers and support. I hope to write more over the next week, as there is still so much I want to share!

What do you fear? What do you hope for? What is the voice of truth telling you?

Timing is Everything...?

What do you do when you know you are going to do something, but don't know when you should do it?

This is what Chris and I are wondering right now.

Last week I continued my feverish pursuit of adoption information. I've talked with several agencies now and Chris and I seem to have narrowed things down to two countries: China and Ethiopia.

There are so many factors to consider that we had never considered before, things like birth order and age differences and referral times. One of the primary obstacles at this point is Lucy's age--something we never considered being an issue until now. Many agencies have restrictions in place that any child you adopt should not disrupt the natural birth order of the children you already have, and that the adopted child must be at least 10 months younger than your youngest child (which makes perfect sense and is beneficial to all children involved). Some agencies have said this could present an issue, as Lucy is still quite young.

However, if we wait to start the process until Lu is a bit older, then the entire process could be disrupted and set back by our move, which is leading us to consider waiting to start this whole thing until Chris is officially done with the AF and we have settled down on the east coast. Everything about waiting seems to make sense--it seems to benefit everyone involved. Life would be more stable and our girls would be older. We would have the move behind us and not have to worry about all the logistics that go along with that in the midst of this adoption process.

It seems like a no-brainer.

So what is the issue?

The issue is this burden we feel, a burden that won't seem to ease up. It seems that most of the significant, life-altering things that Chris and I have done in our lives have defied logic, and this might be another one of those things.

Adoption is no longer an issue of "if" but of "when," and the "when" still seems to be a bit unclear to us. We are praying a lot and trying to listen. The more I try to figure out the timing of all of this the more I feel like my head will explode...which is probably a good indicator that I should stop trying, eh? There are still more questions to be asked and more people to talk to. This is where we are at right now. We would really appreciate everyone else's prayers in this place now as well.

Snapshot

"Anything we say is only a snapshot of a passing moment."

--Frank Schaeffer

I am often stopped in public by older folks. They gaze adoringly at me and my little girls. They ooze with nostalgia and say things like "enjoy them...they grow up so fast."

Encounters like this tend to annoy me. I had to restrain my tongue when I heard remarks like this last summer while Chris was gone, when hours felt like weeks and days felt like years. I would beg for time to pass faster. I would long for days 20 years from now when we would be empty nesters.

But now that Chris is home and I'm not so frazzled and sleep deprived, I'm seeing things a bit more clearly, and I can begin to accept that maybe the older folks have more perspective than I do. Maybe they know what they are talking about because they have lived it, and maybe I should listen to them regardless of how annoying I think their uninvited advice may be.

There have been moments lately that I have looked at Tess and suddenly realized that she isn't a baby anymore. I am stunned to find that there is a growing girl before me. I catch her face at certain moments during the day and get a glimpse of what she might look like years down the road. The reality that she is one day going to be a woman leaves me dumbfounded and terrified. It is still hard for me to imagine that these girls of mine won't be babies forever.

Time is fleeting. I know that despite the tantrums, incessant question asking, diaper changing, bed wetting, etc, I might long for these early days with the girls. I will look back and think about how things once where and wonder what the girls were like at this time. And so, today I wanted to capture a snapshot of this passing season of our lives. I want to create a freeze frame memory of who my girls are now.

Tess is soon approaching 4 years old. She is busy and energetic and full of life. She is flexible and easy going. Her teacher at preschool says she is "easy-breezy." She is creative and imaginative. She is feminine and whimsical.

Her favorite thing is dressing up like a princess and playing different characters. She drapes dresses over her head and pretends that it's her long, long hair. She ties hair clips around her long, long hair and pretends to be Jasmine (because Jasmine has a long ponytail.) She pretends that TT (our dog) is Raja, her pet tiger. She steals high heels out of my closet and click-clacks around the house, the louder the better. She loves all things girly--dresses, makeup, shoes, hair bands, jewelry, etc. Her bedroom looks like a massive princess bomb exploded.

Barbie Mermaid with long long hair.

Her favorite foods are yogurt, Babybel cheese, oatmeal with sugar, cinnamon, and raisins, corn on the cob, steak, chocolate, and fruit snacks. Food is a great motivator. If fruit snacks are the prize, she will do just about anything!

I love doing girly things with my girly girl. I love blowdrying her hair, painting her nails, watching Cinderella, and teaching her how to bake. I love making us English tea and sitting down at the kitchen table while we drink our tea and eat something sweet. This summer when Chris was gone I would lay down with Tess in her bed for nap time. After her story, I would stay in bed with her and we would nap together. I will savor those sweet moments forever.

Tess, looking so grown up

Tess looks a lot like me, but for the most part, she is her daddy through-and-through. She is sharp as a tack and very determined. She is cautious. She likes things a certain way. She is social. She has the stamina of an Energizer bunny. She loves being the center of attention..."hey, watch this!" are three of the most common words out of her mouth. She is affectionate, funny, sensitive, and an extrovert. She LOVES to dance!

Lucy is almost 11 months old. I can't believe my baby is just about 1 year old. Little Lu likes to march to the beat of her own drum. She is a bit of a rebel--she doesn't adhere to schedules or plans. She loves her sleep, but has never fallen into a regular or predictable nap schedule.

There is a lot of sweetness surrounding Lu. Born on Christmas Eve and in the wake of two miscarriages, she was something of a miracle. She was a smiley baby. As a newborn, she wanted to be held and cuddled more at night.

Lu's favorite things are the iPhone, the remote control, Havarti cheese, and her angel bear. She won't go to sleep without her angel bear. She grasps it with her four fingers while she sucks her thumb and tucks it up in her neck. Her angel bear smells amazing. Its fur absorbs all of Lucy's baby breath sweetness. I like to pick it up out of her crib during the day and take big whiffs of it. Chris assures me that this is a primal maternal thing. He thinks it smells like spit up.

Lulu and Angel Bear

Lu is a turbo crawler. She roams the house at record speeds. Her favorite room is Tess's room. The explosion of dolls, dresses, and trinkets keeps her engaged for hours. Lu is an independent player. She is happy to explore the world on her own. Her favorite word is "YEAH!" She says it ALL THE TIME! Her favorite new discovery is the toilet.

The opposite of Tess, Lucy is a physical carbon copy of her daddy, though she is her momma through-and-through. She is stubborn and particular (she never did take formula and turns her nose up at many types of baby food). She loves books. She is endlessly entertained by watching people. You take her out in public and she stares, unashamed. She is usually very quiet, but has been known to shriek at record decibel levels when something isn't up to par. (As far as I know, she doesn't get this particular shrieking quality from me). Lucy is sometimes hard to read. She can be moody. You won't know what she wants unless you truly know her and spend a lot of time with her. She likes to take her time. When she gets excited she kicks her legs.

Lu's favorite foods are cheese, cheese, graham crackers, sweet potatoes, and did I say cheese?

My little literary scholar

What both of these girls have in common is their deep adoration of their daddy. (It was hard for me to not feel like chopped-liver when Chris got back from Afghanistan!) They LOVE to dance with Chris to the High School Musical 3 soundtrack. They love to be thrown up high in the air. Their faces light up when Chris enters the room.

Daddy is HOME!

I love these girls more than I can say! They are the apple of my eye, they are my heartbeat. Though there are moments that are damn hard, I could never imagine life without them. Raising them is making me a better woman.

Need

How do you quantify need?

In a sea of need so vast and deep you might drown in it, how do you begin to navigate where your place is in serving the needy?

These are some questions that Chris and I have been chewing on over the past few days. Talking to these adoption agencies has opened a massive can of worms. It's sparked questions and discussions that are difficult. It's forcing us to look at how far we are willing and able to go in pursuing adoption.

Just last week Chris and I would have said that we are open to adopting domestically or internationally. We thought that a child who needs a home is a child who needs a home. Simple as that. But it's not that simple...at all. Now that we've done more research, we are overwhelmed by all the options out there. Things aren't clear cut. We haven't even started the process, and already we are aware of the messy reality of it.

There are domestic infant adoptions, in which you can choose a confidential, semi-open, or open relationship with the child's birthmother. In many programs, apparently the birthmother can choose her adoptive family out of a book of family profiles. She can choose also whether or not to remain in her child's life.

Then there are inter-country (international) adoptions, in which you can choose which nation you want to pursue. Each country has its own process, restrictions, laws, and requirements. There are orphans of all different ages, some healthy, some with special needs. There are "waiting children," who are usually older than 5 years old or who have special needs. The adoption process for these waiting children is infinitely faster. For a healthy Chinese infant girl the wait time is five years. Five years! For a Chinese special needs infant boy the wait time is only one year.

The choices are staggering, and deciding which route we want to go has made us look at our intentions in adopting. When confronted with so many decisions, it makes us feel uncomfortable, like we are shopping for a piece of clothing. Which color, what size, what brand do we want? Are we willing to accept our outfit with a few holes in it? Can we handle a couple of stains? But we aren't shopping for a new shirt. This is a human life we are talking about.

Chris and I aren't adopting just because we feel like we want another child. Yes, we want another child to love. But we also feel extremely burdened by the millions of children without parents and without homes in this world, and we want to help. We want to offer love and stability and family to a child who may never experience that in this lifetime. We have a deep desire to share God's love in this arena. We feel like this is an area where God has prompted us and enabled us to give.

So, given these intentions, Chris and I are at a place where we are asking hard questions, questions that sound bad coming out of our mouths.

Where are the needs greatest? Will adopting one orphan over another serve a greater need? Why are the wait times so long for a "healthy" orphan? Is the wait time so short for the waiting children because no one is coming for them? Will the healthy orphans ultimately be taken care of because more people want them? If we decide we want a healthy orphan will that mean that a special needs child will be left to waste away in an orphanage? Do we want a healthy orphan because it will be easier, because we don't want to deal with all that a special needs child might entail?

If we decide to pursue a special needs adoption, then we would need to fill out a sort of "special needs order form." What type of needs would we be willing to take on? A minor need, like a type of anemia that could be supplemented nutritionally? A surgical need, like cleft lip/palate? Or a major, lifelong medical need, like cerebral palsy? This form is two full pages long. Then, our preferences will be matched to the orphan data base and the agency will make a referral based on our preferences.

It all feels gross. Really gross. It is forcing us to look at how far we are truly willing to go. It is forcing us to look at our limitations, where we draw the line and say NO, I can't do this, I won't do this, I don't want to do this.

Sometimes making these choices feels like saying I want to help...but not that much. I wonder...is it selfishness...or perhaps wisdom? We know we also have to take into major consideration the girls we already have and their needs and how their lives will be altered by this.

We know we can't save the world. The world is full of need so deep that we can't even begin to touch it. Our efforts can make an impact--God can change lives through us. But sometimes the needs seem so great I doubt that God knows what He's doing. Sometimes it's hard to have faith that He will pick up the slack of our own limitations.

We believe God already knows the child He has for us. The problem is that we don't, and getting there feels very complicated. I've heard that adoption is messy, that the process is frustrating and complicated. I had no idea. We are feeling all of this, and we haven't even sent in our formal application yet.

Faith

Last night I tossed and turned. I felt like I was trapped on a see-saw, sliding back and forth between two extremes. On one end is complete and unreserved faith in where God is leading us. The other end is complete terror and hesitation--feeling like we would be fools to follow Him.

Early last week Chris and I contacted an adoption agency. When you think God is leading you in a certain direction but aren't exactly sure where it is, you just have to start turning knobs. So we have started turning knobs, and the plot keeps getting thicker, scarier, and incredibly exciting.

We are just at the information gathering stage of adoption right now, and each piece of new information seems to adjust the focus on the lens of where God might be leading. We are starting feel strong tugs in certain directions, directions we never would have imagined ourselves turning.

Just two weeks ago, Chris and I were clueless as to what type of adoption we would want to do, and now, after asking some questions and talking to some folks, we feel led in the direction of international adoption, perhaps of a special needs child. We feel like we want to start the process now instead of waiting another two years until we've relocated and settled into a new home and a new job.

I'm tired of sitting back and thinking about what we could do with the recourses God has given us. Perhaps God has equipped us with this education, this medical training, this money, this space, these tools for such a time as this.

And still, I'm mindful of how risky all of this is. I'm aware that the further we walk down this path, the more likely our world is going to be turned upside down forever. I'm cognizant of my tendencies to want to hoard the simplicity and comfort of our current lives. I'm in touch with how many details would need to be worked out in order for us to start and finish this adoption process before we leave California (a move during the adoption process basically requires that you start the entire thing over). I think about how walking this road would impact our girls. I wonder if I'm taking too much on.

But then, all of these doubts get dulled down into a barely audible whisper when I listen to another voice inside of me. This Voice is loud and clear. This Voice says

Follow Me. I've Got You.

Plain and simple.

This tug-of-war has got me thinking a lot about faith. Faith can only see as far as one foot in front of the other. Faith isn't about where I am going, but Who is leading. From the outside looking in, faith often makes no sense at all. But from the inside looking out, it makes all the sense in the world. Faith is all tangled and twisted up in my deepest desires…some of which I never knew I had. Faith is dangerous and the outcome is never what I might have guessed. Faith leaves me breathless, it gets me out of bed in the morning, it makes it hard to go to sleep at night. It gives me energy and makes me excited about living because, suddenly, anything is possible.

Faith renews a dull heart. It is renewing my heart.

I sat in church yesterday and the majority of the time my eyes were full of tears. It is missions week at our church and a man who lived and did ministry in China for many years came to speak. His message was simple. He spoke from Luke 9-10 and the theme of his message was "This is my Son--Listen to Him." He focused on three little words. Three little words with HUGE connotations:

LISTEN.

ASK.

GO.

As I sat there, listening to his words, singing the worship songs, taking my communion, the only word I could hear, deep down inside, loud and clear, was GO.

Yesterday afternoon I was browsing through an old journal. The thing that I found was not what I was looking for. I was merely trying to find my Amazon.com password that I'd scribbled down a couple years ago. What I found though, was an old entry of a journal that I used to keep with my mentor--a journal that we traded back and forth, sharing our stories and writing thoughts about God. Her bright orange marker stood out amongst my black scribbles. Her questions pierced me. They pierced me over three years ago and they pierce me again...

What is it about trusting God that provokes you?

Where has God failed you?

How long have you been taking care of yourself?

My response to these questions now is perhaps different than it was many years ago. I have tried to take care of myself for a long time and it's only left me tired, resentful, and hard. At the risk of sounding like a big fat Christian cliche, I feel am at a place where I am ready to trust God. I know it won't be easy, I know it will probably be painfully hard. I know there will be doubt in the process. But the thing is, I can't think of a time that He's failed me. There have been times that I've thought that He's failed me, but as time goes on I look back and see He was there. He's always been there. He had me then and He's got me now.

So, I have a feeling that things might get a little crazy in the next year, but all I can say is

Here we GO.

Seriously?

Seriously?

Another blog?

Why on earth do I need a new one?

I feel like many things are starting to shift in my life...like I need a new space to write in. I've entered into a new decade. I feel like God is doing new things in me. I'm starting a new journey.

Chris and I were talking the other night about possible titles for this new blog. We came up with some outrageously hokey options. There is enough cheese on the blogosphere though, and I didn't want to add to it. Thankfully, Chris offered up the title "Seriously" and it stuck.

Why Seriously?

Because, according to Chris, I say it all the time (spoken as a question, accompanied by a sassy tone and a roll of my eyes).

Because I tend to take life too seriously.

Because I tend to take myself way too seriously.

Because life IS serious.

Because I like to be serious and talk about serious things.

Because God is up to some serious things in my heart and I want to share it.

Because I'm seriously so tired of my old blog and want a new clean canvas to write on. No frills, no fuss. Just me, being real, sharing my story with you.