It is that time of year again. The time where birthdays, Mother's Day, and anniversaries converge and the feelings get extra big. To be honest, part of me has wanted to just escape from the feelings and the grief. To dive into the busyness of life and ignore it all. The feelings seem too big and too heavy, and yet all I want to do is remember every little moment. I've promised myself that as I remembered little stories of my mom and me together I would write them out and create a memoir of sorts. To soak in the love, the joy, and the sorrow. I haven't been nearly as good at following through with my promise to myself as I wish I was, but for tonight, I am here. 

We are planning a trip this summer to scatter my mom's ashes in the mountains - her favorite place in all the world. My emotions are all over the place when I think about it. It turns out that she has shared her love for the mountains and planted it deeply within my soul. Her favorite place in all the world is also now mine. I cannot wait to go there and wake up in the morning to the crisp mountain air, listen to the river bubble on by and see the majestic mountains. At the same time I wonder if I will love it as much without her there. And I don't know how I will leave her there when it is time to come back home. 

In 2019, shortly before she died we took a gigantic 17 day trip that we called our planes, trains and automobiles trip. It included seeing 100 family members and traveling all over the western United States. We knew that this would be the last big trip like this with Mom, and we were soaking up every minute. It was the bucket list trip of all time and felt practically enchanted. We saw all the typically elusive animals you ever hope to see in the wild, including black bears, grizzly bears, mountain goats, moose, elk, deer, bison and whales! Can you believe we saw whales??? It was amazing! 

As we were on our final leg of the trip and headed back home we found a last minute AirBnb in Thermopolis, Wyoming. While most of the trip had been planned down to the tiniest detail, complete with a laminated itinerary, this was one reservation that had not been made. We weren't sure how far we would travel that day, and figured we would just find a place along the way. As we started making our way back south we realized that we could probably make it to "Thermop" as mom called it, and the reservation worked out perfectly. You never know what you will get when you book an AirBnb exactly, but when we arrived we found a beautiful old west log cabin - something straight out of the wild west, except with a beautifully renovated kitchen and indoor bathrooms instead of outhouses. The cabin had the chinking between the logs, antique furnishings, handmade quilts and everything about it spoke of peace and rest. Even though it was fairly late when we got in, we all sat down to watch a movie together. None of us had seen the new Beauty and the Beast, so we cozied up together to just enjoy. We had been together with so many family members over the days we had been gone, but at that moment it was just us. After years of caring for mom in our home and being together so much, it was a perfect moment and the movie was beautiful. I cannot hear this song or watch this movie without thinking about mom and that moment snuggled up in that cabin.

 Grief can be such a surprising thing. Every book you read warns you about it, but it doesn't begin to adequately communicate the devastating depth of feeling it is to experience grief. It has no boundaries to time or space. It can come on as suddenly and as strong as the very first day you lost the person you love. 

This past week has been crushing. I am missing mom for so many reasons. There have been many different triggers, all different, but all debilitating to a degree. 

No one tells you how hard it will be to throw away the answering machine with your mom's voice on it. 

Listening to an old vinyl record of the Karen Carpenter singing can squeeze your heart, take you back to that kitchen of your childhood sitting at the table with your mom and make you sob tears of joy for the beautiful memories made, and the devastation that there won't be any more. 

My mom was my best friend. She was my partner in dreams, projects, vacations, cooking, holidays, and everything in between. We shared recipes but then didn't follow them. We made came up with fun costumes for the kids and made them together. We talked through the rough days, prayed for each other and encouraged each other. 

I have been doing so many projects lately around my house. They are simple and probably most people wouldn't even notice, but my mom would have. 

Tucker had his first ever football game last week and she would have cheered him on with me. 

It is Labor Day weekend and we would have called each other and talked about our plans and probably make some together - a picnic at Ponca, or a trip to Long Pine to pick wild grapes, or maybe a longer road trip somewhere. 

My mom taught us to value such different things than the world typically values. There are so many times I feel so unseen or unappreciated according to what most people see and value, but I know she would be proud of me and who I have become. 

This week I dreamed about her and of course we were on a vacation in the mountains at all our favorite places. The dreams are rare and precious gifts, but so awful to wake up from. 

I know my tears are unspent love, and that's ok. I know that I am one of the lucky ones to have such a special relationship with my mom and also have the time to say goodbye to her well. I know there is so much to be grateful for, but it certainly doesn't make it pain free! 

  My heart is changing toward grief and suffering. I have spent my life with a tremendous amount of anxiety about bad things happening. Fighting against it. Praying against it. Desperately desiring to protect my "perfect" little world. I can tell you that I still struggle with every story of a tragic accident, a new cancer diagnosis, the loss of a beloved spouse, and the unthinkable true crime story of an abduction. My mind immediately inserts myself in the story and I wonder how anyone could ever survive a moment like that. I remember reading The Shack many years ago. Many people had strong feelings about this book, but the part that haunted me was the idea that something so unthinkable could happen to this little girl, but that God would be with this Daddy and prepare him to walk through it. My heart is still unable to grasp this, yet in some ways I have experienced it. The heartbreak of losing someone so precious to me. I sat down to write this as a client post with some pictures, but instead these words are tumbling out, along with tears as I realize that today is Mother's Day. We often use the words "Life and Death" together, yet somehow we struggle with the reality of death. I have often said that disappointment is the result of unmet expectations (Mother's Day can certainly be a reminder of the truth of this!). Yet, how is it that our hearts are so devastated by something that we should expect?

My heart. 

We were not Created for death. But sin entered the world. The beauty of the Gospel is the hope beyond the devastation of loss, death and grief. Our struggles aren't a result of a grumpy God throwing down lightning bolts of punishments or taking away everything precious for us so that we will love Him most, but rather a gracious God using the circumstances that are a result of sin entering the world and working it for our good. 

Giving hope. 

I recently read that life would not be good without suffering. Over the past few weeks I have been meditating on this idea. It isn't a comfortable thought, but the more I have considered it, the more I realize the truth in it. Through suffering we cultivate empathy. Through suffering we develop authentic relationships. Through suffering we develop deeper gratitude and appreciation. Life is so precious. I have a difficult time reconciling cherishing and loving each other while also keeping a spirit of surrender, a reality of loss, and an eternal hope. Remembering that life is just a vapor that you see for just a moment, but then it disappears (James 4:14).

So, how shall we live?

“This is My commandment, that you love one another, just as I have loved you.
John 15:12

This Mother's Day there are many on my heart that are experiencing suffering, joy, or both. Some are purchasing grave flowers rather than a fresh bouquet for their mom. Some are experiencing pure joy as they join their the motherhood club for the first time. Some are treasuring up each moment that they have together, not knowing how many more they have together. Some are celebrating that even though they only had their mom in their life for 12 years, those years had a life-long impact. Whatever you are experiencing today, I pray that you would feel loved in a special way. 

 Today I attended my friend Christy's funeral. Christy fought her battle with breast cancer harder than anyone I know, but last week she was finally healed at heaven's gate. It is so hard for me to imagine someone filling her place here on earth. She loved Jesus and shared Him with everyone she came in contact with in a way that was like nothing I had experienced. Not only did she have a special love for Jesus, she was a gifted teacher and public speaker on a national level.

 As 2020 becomes a part of our history and 2021 lies before us, full of hope, promises and uncertainty, there has been so much on my heart. 

In just 2 short days will be the first anniversary of my precious Mama's transition to her heavenly home. I miss her dearly. And, as anniversaries have a way of doing, there have been many memories surrounding this time last year. There is much to celebrate, but also so much grief. There is gratefulness, but also lamenting. 

The past few days on social media have been filled with reflection on both the past year and the year to come. I have always been a resolution maker, but these years have changed me. Instead of resolutions, I have found myself in a mode of reflection instead. 

For the year 2020 the words the Lord gave me were Feast and Dwell. With 2020 hindsight (ha!) these words feel more meaningful than ever. The stirring in my heart had brought these verses in particular to mind. 

Psalm 34:8

One thing I ask from the LORD
This only do I seek:
That I may dwell in the house of the LORD
all the days of my life,
To gaze on the beauty of the LORD
and to seek him in his temple. 

Miriam Webster defines Dwell as: to keep the attention directed. I adore this. In all of the distraction this year and the many times that I have felt like the media has wanted to keep our attention directed on whatever the agenda of that day, a refocusing has been in order. I have felt the need for me to be intentional to seek the LORD and to gaze on the beauty of His plan. 

As we walked through the valley of the shadow of death, Psalm 23 was often in the meditations of my heart and remained there through the trials of this year. 

Ps 23:5-6
"You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; 
    You have anointed my head with oil;
        My cup overflows.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life
    And I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever."

There is goodness here. And mercy. Abundance. Protection. Satisfaction.

The concept of feasting seems to fit right in with this. The specific verse the Lord gave me last year is Psalm 34:8
"O taste and see that the LORD is good' 
    How blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him!"

I am such a visual learner. As I picture a feast it signifies an amount sufficient to not just sample, but to get your fill. A feast is shared as a community, not in isolation. There is abundance. 

As I reflect on this past year, my perspective is different. Instead of a list of things to change about myself, I am making a list of ways I grew and overcame in the past year. Instead of a harshness and critical spirit, I spoke words of life and encouragement over the growth and experiences of the past year and the year to come. 

So far I have not been given a new Word for this year, but my heart desires to Feast + Dwell even more. I didn't recognize the connection until I began to write this post, but one of my goals for the coming year is to learn more about the Jewish feasts and celebrations. (if you have been researching this, let's get together!) I desire to move forward with intentionality and community.

So, 2021, I don't know if you will be a "better" year than 2020. For many years I have "kissed that past year goodbye," placing great hope in the new year being much more comfortable. This year I am not. Come what may, I desire to sit at the table prepared for me. I trust the protection. I acknowledge the brokenness and lament. I seek the gratitude and joy. 

I would love to hear where you are in this season. Message me, or even better, come sit at my table. 

Blessings, 
Julie 

Anyone who looks back at this year in the archives of the future will see that this has been an unusual year for everyone. There has been so much on my heart. 

So, an update.

Anthony is still working at Titan Machinery, our local Case IH dealership. He has been there 20 years - quite a milestone! Recently after being quarantined they missed him so much they offered him a promotion when he got back to work. He will be the shop foreman, mentoring the new mechanics and assisting whenever others in the shop need help. We are so proud of him. Here at home we call him St. Anthony since he takes such good care of us. You will always find him taking care of anything that needs done, and everyone around him. He holds the title of "Favorite Uncle" for several of my nieces and nephews and spoils them with lots of playtime and games. 

Tucker had a milestone birthday this year. We now are the parents of a teenager! We realized on his birthday that we will have a teenager in the house for the next 1 1/2 decades. He catches us off guard sometimes because he is no longer a little boy - he is man sized these days. He is homeschooling this year and attending a couple classes down at Cedar Bluffs Public School. Like most boys his age, his favorite classes there are shop and weightlifting. In his down time you can probably find him hanging out with his cousins, planning his next roller coaster opportunity/adventure, skateboarding, drawing car designs for his future business, zooming around on his go kart or ripstick and listing to audio books and his music loudly around the house. He worked hard on his lawnmowing business this year and spends lots of time with our neighbors who are like grandparents to him. 

Adeline turned 5 this year. Seriously, how did our baby grow up so fast. She is still a tiny, sweet little thing and we joke that her life is a musical. She can often be heard around the house singing. The other day she walked past with a baby in her hand singing softly, "Babies are better than reindeer, Spin (Sven) don't you think I'm right?!" She is apparently a Willie Nelson fan and asks Tucker to turn up the radio any time "On the Road Again" comes on. For Christmas all she wanted was unicorn socks, and any time we are out of chocolate milk (which is pretty much always) she reminds me at every stop we make to remember to pick some up. She is doing some preschool here at home and loves learning, reading, painting and playing games with her Daddy. On vacation Dad was saying that he saw her asleep and she looked like an angel. She piped up and said, "I'm not an angel! Well...sort of." It does seems sometimes like she is part angel. 

This year has had a lot of transition for me. On January 4, 2020 my mom, Cynthia Schaller passed away. I had been her primary caretaker up until her death and both Mom and Dad lived with us for several months during that time. I miss her terribly, but I am so grateful that she did not have to deal with all the challenges of 2020. Trying to manage her health care during all of this would have been extremely difficult. I am still doing some photography as well as homeschooling. This year we have been working on some major remodeling in our house to make a more permanent space for Dad to live with us. He currently still has his home in Carroll, but also lives with us part time. We are getting much closer to completion on the project due to the help of many friends. We are so grateful for all those who have come along beside us to teach us and share their construction skills with us. 

While there are been many struggles and grief, there has also been a lot of gratitude. In May Anthony took me to a cabin in the Sandhills to celebrate Mother's Day, my 40th birthday and 19 years of marriage. All of those things are gifts to be grateful for. We also were able to get together will all of Anthony's family this summer to celebrate his parent's 50th wedding anniversary and had our annual cousin's trip in August. In November my Dad and I both ended up getting COVID. It was very mild for me (another thing to be grateful for!) so I was able to take care of Dad the whole time and make sure he had the medical care needed to get through it. After our bout with COVID we were free to go to Florida and see my sister down there. It was so nice to get out and have some fun this year.  

Like everyone else, we miss you all. We are looking forward to dinner parties again, and company staying with us in our home. Please, come and visit. 

Merry Christmas,

Anthony, Julie, Tucker and Pip

Last week a sweet friend and I got together. She is lovely, and orderly, and disciplined... and a new homeschool mom. As we visited she talked about a subject that has been on my mind so much - balance. When the kids were wrapping up their play time at the park I had a little bit of an internal struggle - should I invite her into my imperfect and lived in home? We are in the middle of a major construction project, so messiness is expected, but what about on our typical days? It is less excusable to have things out of order on those days, yet often they are. Balance in our home and perfection are not compatible things.

Because I have made a pre-determined decision to choose people over perfection, I invited her in, un-vacuumed floors and all. As we sat among the undusted surfaces, the toys scattered around, and hampers with laundry unwashed, we talked about the truth about balance. 

I've come to the conclusion that there is no such thing as balance - only "trade-offs." Over the past several years I have come to understand and accept that more. My type A, task driven, list-making-self would love to believe that there is an achievable perfection, but these years have taught me differently. Social media still leads me to believe that others are achieving those things, but the Lord is teaching me to ask for his "Daily Bread" and accept what that looks like, even though it typically doesn't include my version of success. My daily bread at this stage includes endless math pages rather than business lunches. My daily bread looks like rocking, singing, reading a Bible story and praying with Pip at the cost of a clean kitchen before bed. My daily bread is laundry, meals for people who seem to want to eat EVERY DAY, paying bills, Dr. appointments, errands, caring for my dad, and raising these little ones. My Daily Bread provides for my needs, but not all my wants. My Daily Bread gives me strength for the day, not the week or the month, but just what I need to get through the struggles of today. 

Here is a little of what I have been learning. I'd love to hear your thoughts and tips too, so please share them with me!

1. "Some balls are glass and some are plastic."

My friend Bobbi recently shared an article about balance that was so insightful to me. As women we often ask the question, "How do I balance family and business and relationships?" The article stated that we aren't balancing 3 or 4 things, rather we are juggling 50 balls at a time and the key is to determine which ones are plastic and which ones are glass. As a visual learner, that made sense to me. This played out for me a few weeks ago. Pip just turned 5 and even though I knew the weekend was packed, I planned to have a little birthday party for her with the neighbors. I had planned for Saturday, and probably could have made it happen, but it would have been at the cost of extreme stress and would have taken all the fun of celebrating her. I realized in that moment that her little party was a "plastic" ball. I called the neighbors and asked if we could have cake the next day instead. Delaying her gathering 1 day made a huge difference. I was able to make the pink birthday cake that was requested, and we had a lovely time. 

2. "Planned Neglect"

Several years ago I attended a Creative Memories party and it ended up being at the founder of Creative Memories home! There was so much life given to me that night. Rhonda Anderson showed us her scrapbooks and it turns out they weren't "perfect," they were authentic. They represented their life and the heritage she wanted to leave for future generations, not just a perfectly curated version of life mixed with perfectly designed papers and stickers. When someone asked how she had time to scrapbook all those pictures and stories she said she used a tool called "Planned Neglect." Instead of waiting for everything to be perfect, she made an intentional decision to let the dishes pile up and to choose a long-term project like scrapbooking, then catch up on the other demands in her life later. That means living with moments of embarrassing chaos, but valuing the important, not just the urgent. 

3. Understand Seasons

When Tucker was little I remember feeling broken. Before kids we had a very organized house. It only took a few minutes to tidy everything and it stayed clean. After kids I remember feeling like there must be something wrong with me. I just couldn't keep up with everything all the time. Then, a miraculous thing happened - Tucker went to school. For approximately 8 hours a day my house was kid-free and clean! It turned out I wasn't broken; I was in a season. Over the past few years we have gone through several more seasons. When my mom was so sick and living with us it was a season of knowing with extra things and people living in our little house that it wasn't going to be clutter free. Now, while homeschooling full time, we have different types of clutter, and the house doesn't stay clean no matter how hard I try, but I know there is another season coming - empty nest. While I'm sure my house will be clean again in the future, I know I will miss these little weapons of mass destruction terribly. So, for now I will step over the legos again, and be thankful (as much as possible). 

4. "Give yourself Grace"

Give yourself grace is a commonly used phrase that in some ways seems like a brush off when we are talking about our struggles. So what does it really mean? Does it mean to give up or to use as a blanket excuse to avoid my responsibilities? On a recent podcast, John and Sherry from Young House Love said that "we can accomplish less in a day than we think we can, but more in a year than we imagine." As I contemplate that, I understand the truth it carries. I can get so discouraged by my daily to-do list and the small number of things actually marked off in a day's time. Although a planner is arguably one of the most useless items of 2020, I have noticed that if I evaluate my lists each day it is extremely discouraging, but as I look over the week as a whole, somehow I have managed to mark off nearly everything listed for the week. It's a modern day miracle! Ha. By taking time to acknowledge progress, and express gratitude for what has been accomplished, it feels like grace and like tender mercies. 

5. "Yes" Cards

A key to balance is protecting our schedule from over-commitment. I'm terrible about feeling guilt and not wanting to say "No" to anything. So, over the past few years I have been learning to say no by saying "Yes!" I originally heard about this concept from Joy Vertz, a photography business trainer, but it applies to so many areas of life. The basic concept is instead of saying no to something, offer an alternative that you feel good about saying yes to. This article by Patricia Fripp has some additional helpful information about how to say no by saying yes. The questions below are from her:

Do I really want to do what I’ve been asked to do?

Will I benefit personally from the experience?

Will I have the opportunity to do this again?

How much of my time is involved?

Can the job be done quickly or will it involve weeks, months, or even years?

How much help will I have, or do I have full responsibility?

…and this is the KEY question…

Am I being asked to do this job because I’m right for it or because I usually don’t say “No”?

As I've integrated this idea this over the years, and because I am such a visual person, I like to think of my commitments as "yes cards." For each season of life I am given a limited number of "yes" cards. If I keep everything in "balance" then generally the cards have categories. My categories are marriage, children, ministry, business, home and other relationships. In the book The One Thing by Gary Keller he debunks the theory of multi-tasking and instead recommends focusing on only one thing and doing it well. I'll be honest- this was a difficult book for me to read because as mom's there are limited opportunities to delegate and endless need to multi-task, but as I spread out my yes cards in each category it was extremely helpful to write on each card what my "one thing" needed to be. 

6. Declutter

This may seem like an odd thing to list, but I cannot express how much freedom there is in having less. A few years ago during the Marie Kondo craze I joined a Facebook group with a January focus of decluttering. As the month ended, what I had begun learning slowly started me down a path of having a different mindset of stewardship and abundance. Instead of keeping things in case I might need them again, I have realized/am realizing that it is poor stewardship of what I have been given to just store something that isn't being used, but could possibly be used by someone else. The additional cost of more space, etc. isn't being a good steward. If the Lord provided what I needed the first time, he will be faithful to do it again if I need it. Growing up there was more of a mindset of "We better keep this in case we need it again. It would be poor stewardship to have to buy it again."

It seems funny to think that minimalism (or at least reduction!) can be tied to a mindset of abundance rather than poverty, but for me it really is. Less truly is more! To let things go that I don't need rather than holding them with a firm grip is mentally saying that what I need is available for me when I need it - abundance. 

This process has been like layers of an onion. You begin with all the extra stuff that you have needed to get rid of, but just haven't gotten to yet. (Planned neglect can help you make room in your schedule!) 

 Barbara Hemphill of the Productive Environment Institute coined the phrase 

“clutter is postponed decisions.” When we leave email in our inbox, or things scattered around our homes or offices, we feel not only distracted by the visual clutter, but also increasingly overwhelmed because each of those messages and items represents a decision we know we still need to make."

I suffer from some type of strange mental illness that I call Back-to-School Psychosis. This is the season in which I decide to frantically try to accomplish all the things on my summer bucket list, finish projects, fit in all the last minute excursions I wanted to do and then take on an additional 20 projects, all while trying to perfectly prep for a school year that will obviously be smooth sailing. And potty train. Let's not forget that. I'm also going to take better care of my skin and meal plan. And exercise.

So, clearly, when I saw a dining room table in a consignment shop in small town USA, it just made sense to go ahead and purchase it. It was exactly the style I have been looking for at a price too good to pass up. It needed lots of elbow grease. Lots of tender loving care. Love. Restoration. It needed me, and I needed it.  In fact, I have been looking for something just like it.

A History...

If you came into my house you would notice quickly that everything is a rescue project. My home is a collection of items that have been gathered from Craigslist (for a bunny trail, read this. I could totally relate), flea markets, garage sales, "rough" rooms, buy-sell-trade sites, Goodwill and even occasionally the side of the road or dumpster.

At times I long for the perfection that purchasing things out of a catalog in a professionally designed set brings. Really, I want a house that looks like it was just professionally staged, but it's just not me no matter how many times I try. I'm a gatherer by nature. A connector. I long for authenticity.

Those particular personality traits should have made it obvious to me years ago why my house is what it is, but I just thought it was because I am "thrifty."

As I was carefully removing all the damaged finish from my dining room table it struck me - there is something so beautiful to me about restoration. These items tell their story. They are authentic. There is no hiding what they have been through and survived.

My new-to-me dining room table undoubtedly holds wonderful stories about times that friends and family gathered around it sharing in fellowship, stories and laughter. But there are also scars, signs of abuse, and it is worn down in places.

But in its future is loving restoration.

Loving restoration isn't always an easy process. It seems harsh: a combination of scraping, chemicals, and sanding down the rough places until everything has been stripped from it. All that is left is the exposure of the scars- parts of their story that will remain forever.

Next the wood is conditioned, helping it to accept what is coming next. Then comes the stain. This process brings out its natural features- its personality of sorts- and also softens the scars a little. They are still there, but become less visible and not immediately noticeable without looking deeper. Finally comes the top coat. A protection from the harsh environment the table will endure. A protection that will allow it to take part in fellowship and gathering, without being scarred so easily. All the difficult healing process leads to this-- the ability to offer up what it has to love and serve others.

Psalm 71:20-21  (NIV)

20 Though you have made me see troubles,

    many and bitter,

    you will restore my life again;

from the depths of the earth

    you will again bring me up.

21 You will increase my honor

    and comfort me once more.

It is January, so of course it is the time of year that I reflect on the past and make goals for the coming year. Like many others, the goal be healthier is at the top of the list. In the past 6 months since my mom's surgery and hospitalizations my health and weight has suffered as well as the health and weight of my family. I've never been a "diet" kind of person, and I still am not. I'm hoping to find ways to incorporate new habits into our lives that lead us to a healthier lifestyle.

As I process conversations with friends as well as my internal thoughts and beliefs about health, fat, beauty and the number on the scale there is much to contemplate.

Internal contentment
What "healthy" looks like
Society's definition of beauty
How our appearance affects our relationships and interactions
The role of our countenance in communicating our "beauty" to the world

Recently I read a blog written by a beautiful girl that feels that all her words spoken in person are received by others after being filtered through the "fat filter." I really sat to ponder this and reflect on her words. It is very likely true that there are people in the world that do discount/discriminate against people because of their "fat." However, I cannot help but wonder how much of how people receive words have more to do with them reflecting our internal beliefs about ourselves more so than creating their own judgments.

Years ago I was in a fitness class and the instructor handed out a magazine article that had a research project with 1 woman pictured in a swimming suit, 2 trucks, and 2 "belief statements." On the first truck was the picture of the woman and her belief statement said, "I am fat." On the second truck was the same picture of the woman with the belief statement that said, "I am beautiful." The researchers parked the truck in the city, then asked people as they walked by if they agreed or disagreed with the woman's statement. Overwhelmingly, even though it was the same picture, the people on the street agreed with the statement communicated on the truck they were looking at. When I read the article it was life changing. I had never considered that my beliefs about myself would also form the beliefs of others.

My mom is a beautiful and wise woman, but since her cancer treatments destroyed her thyroid she has struggled with her weight as well as her worthiness to dress beautifully. Over the years though she has continuously given herself (or sometimes we have given to her) the permission to dress attractively, wear chic hairstyles, and present herself as beautiful. As I look at her I have never thought about her weight - only that she is beautiful, intelligent, and loving.

So, here's to healthy, both inside and out over a number on a scale.

One of the most common phrases I hear since having Adeline is "I bet you have some great pictures of her / Do you just take pictures of her all day?" While I do have tons of pictures of this little sweetie, the old adage that the shoemaker's children have no shoes is also true.

I was determined that I would actually go through her pictures and make a special video for my and my little family. I'm only a week past my deadline too! Our year has been amazing. My heart is overwhelmed by all the sweet moments our family has had and the joy of baby in our household. It's almost more than I can process even! Pip has been the sweetest baby, and T has been the best brother- well, as brothers go! I cannot image our family any other way. We would love your comments on this post to celebrate Pip's birthday and her miracle story. Blessings, Julie

I am always amazed at how quickly newborns turn into infants, and infants turn into toddlers and, well, lets not think about it, huh?

I feed her.

This past Sunday I was thinking about my previous post, and thinking back to sharing about our season of infertility exposing the barren places in my soul, and I came across this verse:

I used to blog - a lot. Somehow along the way life as a wife, mother, daughter, business owner, photographer, and if we are being honest, episodes of Downton Abbey have replaced my writing.

Maybe we go through seasons that we have a lot to say.

Maybe we go through seasons that we need to keep our mouths silent; to sit quietly and learn.

But here I find myself thinking about my blog, my thoughts, sharing stories and lessons learned, and the importance of leaving a legacy and faith journey for my children.

A few months ago I did some writing and (choke) public speaking, sharing a small part of our story. Since I am not a public speaker, I just wrote out my story and read it. So, really, by reading this you have not missed out on anything.

Here it is.

When Christy first asked if I would be willing to share about an anxious time in my life and how God worked through it, I had very mixed feelings. I instantly knew in my heart I was supposed to share about our experience with infertility. However, the whole time my brain was filling me in on reasons that would be a terrible idea.

The top 3 reasons were 1.) I'm not a public speaker. Being front and center sounds about as fun to me as having toothpicks shoved under my finger nails.

2.) Sharing about our experience will most likely lead to a very ugly cry; and

 3.) I'll be completely honest- I could have weathered the season better. I feel like someone who had risen at 4:30 am every morning to spend 2 hours with Jesus and their floral print Bible cover as they weep over the beauty of every word they read would be a better candidate for speaking to you all.

There has been no greater season of intensity, emotions and worry than dealing with infertility. As I read back through my journals in preparation for this, I found myself holding my breath, feeling like there was an elephant on my chest, and a huge lump in my throat. After reading through several entries, I felt like I needed to lay down and rest for a while. Clearly it was a season of anxiousness.

Infertility is difficult emotionally, physically, mentally and relationally. With each month that passed, the day I started my period I felt as through my whole body was weeping. My dream from the time I was a little girl had been to be a mommy, and with each month after month after month, that dream seemed to fade deeper into the shadows.

Hopelessness is a powerful emotion. It can be overwhelming. I struggle with knowing how to share this season because even though we cried out to the Lord, there wasn't a promise or biblical passage that offered us a promise or assurance that we would become parents or that I would ever carry a baby of my own. Verses like "Children are a blessing from the Lord" and "Delight yourselves in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart" were a struggle for me to know the right personal response. The verse that we were able to relate to was from Job's heart when he said "The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord."

We prayed for wisdom. For peace. For grace for the moment. And of course, for a God sized miracle.

With each month of "trying" and each fertility treatment I struggled with remaining hopeful, but not getting my hopes up. I struggled between faith and reality. I struggled with anger and questions about why God gives children to people who do not want them. I wondered if it was silly/crazy to hope. One passage that spoke to me and in a sense gave me permission to continue to hope, even when it seemed impossible was Romans 5:2-5

through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand.And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.

I also found comfort in a study through Genesis and understanding that infertility has been around since the beginning of time, but it is seen by God and not too insignificant for Him to respond to on a personal level. I saw how God provided for Sarah, Hannah, Elizabeth, and Rachel throughout the Bible.

Over time God provided a miracle for us too. You all know him as Tucker. He was faithful to us then, but even the countless times that we went through treatments since then, despite the fact that the outcome wasn't what we had hoped for, God was still faithful to us through that. 

While pregnant with Tucker I remembered this song* and feel like it encompassed my heart.

Verse 1

In my moments of Fear

Through Every Pain Every Tear 

There's A God Who's Been Faithful To Me 

When My Strength Was All Gone 

When My Heart Had No Song 

Still In Love He's Proved Faithful To Me 

Every Word He's Promised Is True 

What I Thought Was Impossible I See My God Do 

Chorus

He's Been Faithful, Faithful To Me 

Looking Back, His Love And Mercy I See 

Though In My Heart I Have Questioned 

even Failed To Believe He's Been Faithful, Faithful To Me 

*Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir 

Ps 33:11 ; Ps 37:3-7 ; Ps 38:15 ; Ps 33:18 ; Ps 71:5 ; Ps 43:5 ; Ps 71:14 ; Lam 3:24-25 ; Deut 31:6 ; Rom 15:13 ; Rom 12:12 ; Ps 39:7 ; Luke 1:37 

I still cannot hear this song without tearing up.

I shared my story back in October, then again in November. My fears about the ugly cry were indeed warranted. I could barely read the words through the tears. It was raw, and I openly bared the scars and barren places of my soul.

Anthony and I have been married for almost 14 years. We have been "trying" to conceive for most of those years, and even though we both come from baby-making-machine families, that certainly was not the case for us. We tried for almost 2 years to conceive before going to a fertility specialist. We then began the process of multiple tests, different prescriptions, blood draws, etc. Eventually we decided to proceed with an IUI. We were beyond elated two weeks after our first IUI that we were expecting. In some ways, I think I had thought we had found "the answer" to our problems.

About 18 months after Tucker was born we headed back to the specialist, optimistic that we had figured out the "formula" and hopeful that we would conceive again quickly.

I had basically convinced myself those first 2 weeks after our second IUI that I had all the pregnancy symptoms (also a side effect of the drugs you take along with the procedure) and was devastated to find out that we were not pregnant.

A few days later I drug myself back to the doctor's office to start again, although this time she saw some abnormalities that she felt like would probably go away within the next month or two, but it kept us from moving forward.

This turned into not months, but close to a year, ultimately ending with surgery. After surgery it was time to hit it hard again. We mustered up what strength we could (and finances) and went through several months again. Repeatedly the results came back negative.

Infertility can take such a toll on body, emotions and certainly your checkbook that we took a break again over the holidays, then moved up to the regional fertility specialist. This was high stakes time. The treatments were much more intense and painful, sometimes making it difficult to even walk. I remember one day in particular; Anthony came home from work and asked about my day. I realized then that I had spent basically the whole day in the rocking chair, rocking back and forth in pain.

Ultimately, you know the end results of all of those treatments.