We made the sad decision to put our dog, Speedy, down today. After watching him deteriorate for the past few months, we knew it was time. His hair was falling out, his skin was en-flamed, his legs shook, and he whimpered at night in an effort to get comfortable. Speedy was 15 & 1/2 years old, and the last of what I call our “fur baby family before we had a human family”.
I could write so much about what I have learned through loving my dogs and cats. Dogs are especially unique in their love for their human companions, and I believe that they are a special kind of gift to this world. They keep our secrets, comfort our sadness, and protect us with vicious loyalty. If only we could treat each other the way our dogs do, perhaps there would be less gossip, less grief, and less victimization in the world.
This morning, I gathered our children and explained to them that when they returned home this evening, Speedy would no longer be living with us, and that we felt it was time for him to be put down so that he would not suffer anymore. Both paused for a moment, and then spoke some wise words to me:
“Speedy will be in Heaven with Cleo and Baby Kitty now.”
“His skin will get better, and his hair will grow back.”
“God will take care of Speedy.”
After listening to them process their impending loss, I realized that their words brought great comfort to me. It was a difficult day, but the vision of Heaven that the kids put in my mind infused my thoughts.
In Heaven, there will be great joy, and the grandest of reunions. In Heaven, sickness and frailness, and all of the things that make us physically and emotionally ill, will be gone. In Heaven, we will rejoice with our Heavenly Father.
Today was one of remembrance of the sweet little puppy that bounced his way into our lives. It was one of commemoration about the many years he greeted us at the door, slept next to my feet, and gave us moments of laughter. I was also reminded that the years may seem long, but time with each other, truly is short.
It was also a day of a grand envisioning of what Heaven will be like, and of the blessed assurance of Eternal life.
Thank you, Lord, for gifting me with Your wisdom and promises through the soft-spoken words of my children.
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“How old is he?”, asked the gentleman sitting next to me in the car dealership waiting room. “He’s almost a year old”, I replied. “Our baby is due to in two weeks!”, he said with excitement in his voice. “Wonderful. Are you having a boy or girl?”, I asked. “Boy”, he said.
We continued to talk about the differences between boys and girls. After his name was called to pick up his car, I said, “Good luck and congratulations with your new little one.” He thanked me and went on his way.
I did not want to explain that I had not given birth to the little guy in the stroller next to me, or that he was my little cousin, or any other detail surrounding our relationship. I also chose not to explain that my kiddos are adopted. It seems there is a time and place for that, and this was not one of them. The remainder of my wait time for the service on my car, I thought about how exuberant he was about his baby growing inside of the woman he loved. Sometimes, these conversations affect me, and cause me to think about my experience with motherhood.
Truth be told, I sometimes forget that I didn’t give birth to my children; and yet, at other times, I’m keenly aware that I did not carry them. Right before our oldest son’s adoption, I was able to review the entire protective services file for him. I took notes, wrote down names, and read it as if I had not heard the information before. I had heard it before, but seeing it, reading it, and soaking it in, was a whole new experience.
I turned the pages as if reading a novel. I felt sadness at times for what must have been a difficult road for his birth mother, and then, my sadness turned to anger when reading about some of the choices she made when pregnant. This experience was the first time I actually felt anger towards his birth mother, and towards the not-so-healthy start he had at life; still yet, I carried such empathy for her.
My daughter was born and basically abandoned due to circumstances beyond (in some respects) her birth parents’ control. I heard what the social workers suspected her birth mother did during pregnancy, but, there is no written proof of any of it. She was born, brought into protective services, placed in a foster home, and then moved to our home. It really felt as if she was forgotten about by the one person who brought her into this world.
If I had carried my children in my womb, I would have not made the same choices. I would have gone above and beyond to protect my babies before they were born. I would have taken any class offered on prenatal care. I would have seen a nutritionist, read all of the books and articles I could get my hands on, taken the necessary supplements, and done anything else that contributed to the health of my children growing inside of me.
I would have carried their ultrasound pictures around as if they were flags of victory. I would have kept people guessing on the genders until I just couldn’t stand it anymore. I missed the kicks in the belly, the swollen feet, the flushed feelings, and the nesting time. I missed the look on the faces of loved ones when announcing our new arrivals.
I would have bought cute “going home” outfits before leaving the hospital. Their nurseries would have been ready for their arrivals. I would have kept their names secret, but only for a little while. I would have invited my mom to my doctor’s appointments. I would have taken as much maternity leave as I could. The minute I held them, I would have known they were mine forever. I missed out on carrying the most important gifts I have ever received.
I.missed.so.much.
Do I wish that I had carried my children in my body? Yes, of course I do. I wish I would have experienced feeling them growing inside of me. I wish I would have had nine months to fall in love with them. I wish I would have had my bags packed by the door in anticipation of their impending births. I wish I would have felt labor pains as they made their way into the world. I wish for all of the experiences of being pregnant.
Do you want to know something amazing though?
Even though I missed out on carrying my children in my body, and even though I would have made difference choices had they grown in my womb, I know that my children were meant to be mine. I know it…I feel it. They are an extension of who I am, and who my husband is. I do not regret the path I have walked to be a mother.
They are the living, breathing, walking, and delightful embodiment of the hope I had for the future. They are the promised answers of a faithful Father who heard my prayers and pleads to be a mother. They are examples of goodness that is born out of awful circumstances. They represent God-given strength, and the resilience of children whose start in life was a challenge.
Earlier in the week, I woke up, and read this email that was sent to me from a friend:
Isaiah 51:3
New Living Translation (NLT)
3 The Lord will comfort Israel again and have pity on her ruins.
*** Her desert will blossom like Eden, her barren wilderness like the garden of the Lord. Joy and gladness will be found there. ***
Read this scripture tonight and thought of you 🙂
I didn’t carry my children in my body, and in many ways, I wish I would have….but….the joy found when our lives collided with each other is something that I would never trade.
my sweets
I meandered my way through the barren wilderness, and walked out of it with joy, gladness, and blessed beyond measure.
Thank you, Father, for reminding me in small and big ways just how faithful You are in listening, guiding, and gracefully giving me gifts that keep on giving.
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Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light on my path. Psalm 119:105
I’m exhausted from the day. It is not that I’m physically exhausted, but emotionally exhausted. Our hearing was heard today to obtain custody of the precious little one who has come to live with us. I fret over his future, and yet, I love his birth mother as she too is a child I once carried around as an infant. My husband and I petitioned for guardianship of the baby because we love him and we love his birth mother, his grandmother, and his great-grandparents. We are all family, and family matters.
I’m exhausted from the day. I had to be on the witness stand to testify as to why I would be a good home for him. I had to prove myself, my experience, my relationships, and my stability. This is not the first time I’ve had to do this. Being a former foster parent felt like a constant attempt to prove myself as being worthy of being a parent. I have not cared for a single child that has come to me free of legal strings attached. I’ve had to testify and show the courts and other powers-that-be that I am capable of providing and loving on a child with-whom I’ve already taken into my home, cared for, and loved on. I’ve had to prove myself, and yet, the Lord already approves of me.
I’m exhausted from the day, but, I have this sense of inner peace. I know that my God loves this precious little one more than I can ever imagine. He commands this child’s destiny. He has written his past, his present, and his future. He sings over this baby, and He rejoices over his growth like a proud daddy. The Lord, and His word are the lamp upon his feet, and the light upon his path. Truthfully, He is the lamp upon all of our feet, and the light upon our paths.
I’m exhausted from the day, but also at peace knowing that the Lord would not set me and my family upon this path if any of this didn’t matter to Him. I sat in the court room today at the table with sweaty palms, quick breaths, and a rolling stomach. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and welcomed the Lord into the courtroom. I said softly to myself, “Lord, be with me.” Although nervous and uncertain what the Judge would think, I felt great strength knowing that God was with me.
I’m exhausted from the day, but not worn out. I know this fight, this passion to protect, and this path has been lit by the light of the Lord, and the choice to love the way He wants us to. I know that He is the lamp upon which my feet walk, and that each step forward may feel like it is in darkness, but not for long. I know that He will light the way.
Custody was granted for us today. This little babe that we love is with us for now at least. Custody may be temporary, and I may not know what the future holds for him or for his place in our family, but I know who holds his future. I know to trust the Lamp that will guide the child’s feet, and the Light that will brighten his path.
I know in the depths of my being that the Lord loves this precious baby more than I could ever imagine or fathom…now that is something that refreshes my soul.
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Last Friday, we took our children to an amusement park not too far from where we live. My parents came along to enjoy the day, and to help out with little ones. My son was quite determined to find either a shark tooth or alligator tooth necklace, so naturally, his Papa assisted in finding and purchasing him one.
My 4-year-old daughter and I looked at a few of the charms for necklaces, and I kept pointing out the butterflies, hearts, guitars, etc…basically the ones I thought she would want. She carefully picked up and inspected each one, thought long and hard about her choice, then picked up a yellow cross with small red dots on it and said “I pick the Cross”. I have to admit that I was a little surprised by her choice. I just didn’t guess that she would choose a cross for her necklace. After all, there were far more shiny, decorative, and cute ones that little girls tend to find appealing.
I asked her again if it was what she wanted, and she said, “Yes, I pick the Cross”. My heart was warmed by this. Our daughter seems to have always been a child who embraces God. She has reminded me time again that God lives in her heart. She leads the prayer at dinner time, and if we get a in hurry to eat, she reminds us that we must pray first. She wakes up nearly every day wondering if it is Sunday because she is excited to go to church. She has asked time and again if she was a little baby in Heaven with God before she was in her birth mother’s belly. I probably shouldn’t be too surprised that she picked the Cross for a necklace that her Papa bought her.
In thinking about this again today, I thought of why Jesus reminds of being like a little child and having a child-like faith. I know there have been and still are times when I do not pick the Cross. Instead, I have picked the shiny, appealing, and popular things the world has to offer. I still struggle with wanting more of the world’s charms, and find it a constant battle to focus on desiring the Lord over anything else. If I told you otherwise, I would be a liar. Even if I didn’t admit it out loud, God would still hear the words of my heart, and the longings of my desires that often sway me from Him.
The world tells us, “Pick me! Pick me! Don’t do what you think God wants you to do. Do what is best for you, what will put you ahead, and what will serve you. Don’t listen to Him. Don’t pick the Cross.” In those times when I have listened to the world, I have missed out on the blessings that come from walking in His light. On the contrary, in those times that I have ignored the world and focused my actions on His calling, I have been abundantly blessed with grace, insight, and strength.
I often learn wonderfully humbling things from my children, and am sure that I will continue to as I raise them. I am also quite sure that I will walk the fine line of balancing my desire for the world with choosing to follow Christ throughout the rest of my life. I know though, that living a life in faith and choosing to pick the Cross will never cause me to fail or lose. I will have gained everything that is worthy of gaining by choosing the Cross, and by choosing Him. After all, Jesus gave everything up, and carried the Cross for me.
Father, Thank you for using my daughter to teach me about You. Thank you for instilling in her a heart that longs for You, and I pray for Divine protection over her. Father, help me, and help us all to always pick the Cross, and our Lord and Savior over anything else in the world.
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This is probably one of the most random posts I will ever share, but I thought I would pass this tip along for any mommies who are struggling with treating their infant’s diaper rash. My granny raised ten babies in the Ozarks area with very little money and had a cure for just about anything. My mom passed along my granny’s cure for diaper rash, and it definitely works!
It is quite simple. 1) Take flour (plain white flour) and scorch it in a skillet until light brown. 2) Let it cool completely, then gently pat onto baby’s bottom.
It works within 24-48 hours. The diaper rash or redness is essentially gone! Make sure to warn your sitters or anyone else watching your little ones though as it may shock and scare them a little to change a baby’s diaper and not know that you have coated their bottoms with scorched flour!
I know my granny had other fixes from her life of raising children with very little resources. I need to ask my mom and other relatives so that I can write them down and pass along to my children.
Thanks for reading and have a great day!
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“The child must know that he is a miracle, that since the beginning of the world there hasn’t been, and until the end of the world there will not be, another child like him.” – Pablo Casals
Children are miraculous indeed. Through bringing in and caring for a new little one, I’ve been so incredibly blessed these past few weeks by rediscovering the innocent beauty of children. Sometimes I think I take them for granted. Other times I think I expect too much, or maybe too little. Most of the time though, I continually try to figure them out. I will never get all their quirks or habits, or any of the things that make them human. I will never be able to put my finger on what exactly makes them tick. One thing I do know is that the knowledge of God’s love of children, and the mercy He shows us through them, makes my heart swell with contentment and peace.
Yes, I’ve been incredibly blessed these past few weeks to add another child into our home. I don’t know any other way to handle it all except with the wisdom that our Father in Heaven has called us to be the hands and feet that meet the needs of this little one. Welcome, little miracle, welcome.
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This week, my husband and I took a baby relative into our home following an emergent situation involving a family member. We had been prayerfully considering our response to this situation, and had planned on moving him in, but were not exactly sure if or when we were going to do it.
This week has been quite exhausting, and a little overwhelming. However, this week has also reminded me of the incredible difference we can all choose to make in the lives of little ones. This week has also been a thought-provoking one about life and faith. Mostly though, it has filled my mind and heart with wonder about children.
I wonder if children are mini-angels in disguise charged with watching the way we live and treat others. They cause us to think twice before telling off the person who cut in line, or ignoring the person in need of help. Their little eyes and ears absorb our actions, or lack thereof, like a sponge.
We work a little harder each day because of the deep-seeded yearning to care for them and provide their needs. We stay up all hours of the night to calm their fears and soothe their pains. We quickly rush to their defense, and yet, disciple them to learn from their mistakes. We clothe them, feed them, shelter them, and love on them.
In return, they speak simplicity into our lives. They don’t care if the living room is messy, or the potatoes are cold. They don’t worry about what the weather is going to be like, or what is on the schedule for the day. They accept others without condition, express their emotions without hindrance, and choose each day to laugh, play, and love.
Most important, they watch and hear what goes on in the world around them. They watch the way we respond to difficult situations. They listen to the words we use when describing our concerns, and they yearn to understand the reasons why we (adults) make the decisions that we do.
I wonder, sometimes, if children send little messages to our Heavenly Father, who in turn, speaks His words of truth and love through them. I wonder, sometimes, if their questions about life are ones that He uses to hear our responses. I know children are put into our lives so that we can choose to step up and step out in faith each day.
I believe that angels watch over our lives and actions here on Earth. I believe there are angelic guardians all around us, and especially around children. I just wonder, though, if children are little angels in disguise. If so, I am the guardian of three.
Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares. -Hebrews 13:2
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I was running a little late yesterday picking my son up from school. Up to this point, we have had a fairly routine pick-up schedule. I arrive about ten minutes before school lets out, park in the same area, walk in to the main doors, and wait on a bench until I see his smiling face walking down the hall towards me. Yesterday though, I was about ten minutes late from my usual pick-up time.
As I approached the door, I could see him sitting on the bench waiting for me with a slight look of worry on his face. He was searching through the small crowd of parents that had gathered in the front entrance. When the door opened, and I entered the building, he swung his head around and with a gleeful sound, he said, “Mommy!” We hugged, he told me about his day, and we made our way to the car.
I’ve been thinking about the look on my son’s face when I saw him through the door looking slightly distressed over my absence, and then again, at his joyful expression when he saw me. The thoughts that have come from this brief and somewhat insignificant moment is this, “It matters that we keep our word to children. It matters that they can rely on us to be there for them, and that we do what we say we are going to do.”
I couldn’t help but think about the kids in foster care that I used to work with as a case manager. Many were promised things by their parents and others that never came to fruition. Parents did not get clean from drugs, work their treatment plans, or “get them back” like they told their children they would. Several of the children meandered their way through the system (and many still do) moving from home to home without anyone committing to caring for them long-term. They were continually let down by the unfulfilled promises of adults.
Many of the kids have been failed often by adults in their lives even prior to entering foster care. Too many of them have never had anyone stick around long enough to help them lay down roots to a firm foundation for their future. One of the keys to successfully working with children in the foster care system is to say what you mean, and mean what you say. It also is vitally important to do what you say you are going to do.
My son’s look of relief upon seeing me yesterday after being just a few minutes late to pick him up reminded me of what I really already knew. Our responsibilities as parents and as adults is to keep the well-being of children in the forefront. The way we treat them, keep our word to them, and be intentional in their lives will shape their future, and in many ways, will shape ours.
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“There are no seven wonders of the world in the eyes of a child. There are seven million.” -Walt Streightiff
My daughter’s eyes just always seem to convey emotion in pictures. Even as an infant, her eyes would pop out in a picture. She has always been able to use her eyes to express herself in images. The one above was taken by my husband on his iPhone when she was waiting in the doctor’s office to be seen.
Sometimes her eyes are happy, sometimes they are sad and serious; yet, they are always the focal point in the images we take of her, and one can’t help but be drawn to them. The quote above is about children seeing wonders in life, but I happen to believe that we can see great wonders in our children’s eyes as well.
Full of wonder…just simply wonderful.
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My children, I am not a perfect mother. Some days, I’m not even a good-enough mother. I cannot promise you that I won’t lose my temper or get disappointed at times. I cannot promise you that I will have all of the answers, save you from any pain, and agree with your choices. I cannot promise you that I will be walking here on this Earth with you for all of your days. I won’t promise you these things either.
The commitment made by my own mother to me while growing up, and even today, has spilled over into your lives as well. Through her, I witnessed what it was like to put someone else before one’s own needs. Through her, I learned that children should hear that their dreams can come true with hard work and heart. Through her, I learned to not allow one’s circumstances dictate one’s future. Through her, I learned that it is okay to not have all the answers, and that someday the answers might just be found. Through her, I learned to not walk away from commitments and family.
My children, I promise you that my overwhelming love for you will stay with me until my last breath. My protective instincts will linger throughout your growing-up years, and even while you too are feeling the instinct to protect your little ones. I promise you that I will try my very best to take care of myself so that our days will be long together. My desire to put your needs above mine, to sacrifice, to provide, to want more for you, to imagine better for you, to work harder for you, and to be your biggest cheerleader will not fade with time. I will pray for the Lord’s protection over you.
Each day is a gift from the Lord that presents me with the opportunity to steadfastly work on this art that is called motherhood.
My children, I may not be a perfect mother. I may not even be a good-enough mother on some days…but….I’m your mother, and I will not walk away.That is something I can promise.
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We made the sad decision to put our dog, Speedy, down today. After watching him deteriorate for the past few months, we knew it was time. His hair was falling out, his skin was en-flamed, his legs shook, and he whimpered at night in an effort to get comfortable. Speedy was 15 & 1/2 years old, and the last of what I call our “fur baby family before we had a human family”.
BARREN TO BLESSED 