tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16538705024624859702024-03-12T21:18:37.224-07:00Blessings and RaindropsAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04173221116118498902noreply@blogger.comBlogger520125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1653870502462485970.post-72524362487256880922015-11-12T08:08:00.001-08:002015-11-12T08:08:33.833-08:00...One is silver, and the other gold. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://img1.etsystatic.com/054/0/6878707/il_570xN.715341459_kezx.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://img1.etsystatic.com/054/0/6878707/il_570xN.715341459_kezx.jpg" width="510" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: right;"><a href="https://www.etsy.com/listing/219446702/make-new-friends-but-keep-the-old-print" target="_blank">SOURCE</a>.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
If there were ever a nugget of wisdom I want to impart on my girls, it is this: <i><b>good</b></i> <b><i>friends are a great treasure</i></b>. <br />
<br />
And, let me be clear. I'm <i>not</i> talking about facebook friends. I'm <i>not</i> talking about friends who place pressure on you to be someone or something you aren't. I'm <i>not</i> talking about friends who keep score.<br />
<br />
I'm specifically speaking to authentic, <i>love-you-as-are</i> girlfriends.<br />
<br />
Make it a point to find them. You may meet when you're three or when you're thirty. Age is inconsequential.<br />
<br />
Because, I've learned something recently. There is a secret to being a good mom and a good wife. It's simple: <i><b>be a good friend. </b></i><br />
<i><b><br /></b></i>
Have someone on speed dial who will listen as you cry or laugh with you as you relay the latest antics in your home. There is something therapeutic about sharing your struggles with someone who understands simply because she has been there. She knows of the struggle of the very long days and the very short years of mothering. She knows of the struggle to balance work and motherhood. She knows of the pressure of perfection. She knows of the struggle of surrendering control.<br />
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Spend time away from the pressures of everyday life with your girlfriends.<br />
<i><b><br /></b></i>
Stepping away from the world with real friends will renew your soul. Let go of guilt about leaving. You need time away to laugh so hard your cheeks hurt. You need time away to remember who you were before you grew up and had little people depending on you. You need to cry together and encourage one another and ask hard questions and speak truthful words. <b>You need one another.</b><br />
<br />
When you find the girls who have seen you at your worst and loved you through the dark days, who have laughed with you on your best days and who have celebrated the joyful days alongside you, TREASURE them. Pray for them. Remind them of how deeply they have enriched your world.<br />
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Recognize the gift of friendship and don't ever doubt the importance of the influence these girls have had in your life.<br />
<br />
The words I sang as a six-year-old ring ever true, "<i>Make new friends but keep the old, one is silver and the other gold." </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
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<i>I spent this past weekend away with some of <a href="http://www.blessingsandraindrops.com/2012/09/just-eight-of-us.html" target="_blank">my greatest treasures</a>. These girls are such blessings. And, yes. That is a giant photo on a stick of Brianna. She couldn't be there with us and we didn't want her to miss out on any of the fun. We sent her pictures throughout the weekend of all the fun "she was having" with the hope that silly photos would help ease the sting of sadness from missing this time together. </i><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04173221116118498902noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1653870502462485970.post-90912076364133950482015-11-03T08:02:00.001-08:002015-11-03T09:37:31.306-08:00Seeking Restoration. {plus, 3 pirates and a puppy}. Last night, we gathered in our little farmhouse, here in a little town tucked into the northern corner of Arkansas, to dream together about pursuing restoration for lives across the globe.<br />
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Honestly, this is all a little surreal.<br />
<br />
When Dave and I said that first hesitant <i>yes</i> to adoption all those years ago, we had no idea that God was setting into motion a plan to would bring together a tribe of justice seekers poised to impact communities in central Africa.<br />
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This morning, as I reflected on the evening and <a href="http://www.blessingsandraindrops.com/2015/09/when-he-asks-you-to-move-you-move.html" target="_blank">on the work that has led to this point</a>, I just sat in awe.<br />
<br />
I could share dozens of examples of how God provided every dollar for <a href="http://www.feedtheirtummies.org/" target="_blank">our feeding program</a>, how He brought people into our lives to mentor and guide and partner and how He is aligning hearts and details to create long-term change in this country and for these people we have come to love.<br />
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When I opened my computer this morning aiming to share all He has done and is currently doing, I stared at an empty screen for some time seeking the right words.<br />
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Then, to distract myself, I started uploading photos from trick-or-treating the other night. <br />
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As I looked through the photos of my little munchkins and reminisced on the fun of that night, I felt a sudden swell of emotion. You guys. God LOVES seeing His kids running to discover the amazing treats waiting for us behind each new door. Treats including authentic community and passionate worship. Treats including serving the least of these and watching the Kingdom unfold right here on earth. He laughs in delight as we experience his absolute best for us.<br />
<br />
I imagine God sat on the precipice of Heaven last night, captivated as He watched his beloved kids wrestle through hard questions and share painful stories. Listening with a broad smile as we offered prayers of thanksgiving and sincere pleas for wisdom. In the same way I gush with pride and intense love as I watch my children discover their distinct giftings, I believe He relishes the moments when we come together to seek His unique call on our lives.<br />
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And, you know what else I've learned? Even when we are the midst of an unfolding of God's plans, we can pause and soak up the joy of the sweet moments of this life. Including silly holidays and costumes and shrieks of laughter.<br />
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<i>Interested in learning more about our work in the Congo? I'd love to share more about how our ministry is evolving and how you can get involved. Comment here or email me at jenny@feedtheirtummies.com to learn more! </i><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04173221116118498902noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1653870502462485970.post-35394292101616449462015-10-29T06:31:00.000-07:002015-10-29T09:03:47.303-07:00Hope for Kids from Hard Places {Part Two}I'm excited to share this follow-up post in our Hope for Healing series. This information is vitally important not just for adoptive and foster parents, but also for the ones walking alongside these families.<br />
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If you missed the introduction post for this series, <a href="http://www.blessingsandraindrops.com/2015/10/hope-for-kids-from-hard-places-part-one.html" target="_blank">start here</a>.<br />
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Today, Christa is walking us through a brief, easily accessible understanding of trauma, it's widespread effects and, most importantly, the hope for healing for children from hard places.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Trauma Changes the Brain</i></b></span><br />
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There are six known risk factors for healthy attachment:<br />
<ol>
<li>Stressful pregnancy</li>
<li>Difficult birth</li>
<li>Early medical intervention</li>
<li>Abuse</li>
<li>Neglect</li>
<li>Trauma</li>
</ol>
These risk factors affect the chemical balance in the brain, brain development, and brain function and processing. Studies of children who have experienced these risk factors show that the levels of their neurotransmitters—the chemicals that carry messages throughout the body—are much different than those of their typical peers. The risk factors also change the child’s stress response system, impacting the way they manage stress and relate to others.<br />
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In a typical situation, a child cries to express a need; this causes the excitatory (stress) chemicals in his brain to rise. Then the primary caregiver meets the need and provides comfort, which in turn causes inhibitory (calming) chemicals to rise in the brain.<br />
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For children who have experienced one or more of the risk factors, the stress response system cycle is not completed. They express a need and for whatever reason the need is not met and comfort is not provided. Therefore, excitatory chemicals in the brain are high for much longer periods of time. <b>The brain learns to operate on a high level of alert all the time, rather than experiencing discomfort and then being soothed by a trustworthy caregiver.</b><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></i><i><span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Effects of Trauma are Widespread</b></span></i><br />
<i><br /></i>Children from hard places struggle more than same-age peers with emotional regulation and social interaction.<br />
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Because of the early experiences in their lives, these children learn that adults can’t be trusted and that they must manage their world on their own. <b>When a child is constantly trying to manage her environment, the fight or flight fear response is active in the brain and short-circuits the stress response system, which is why the smallest and seemingly insignificant things can upset her.</b><br />
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The normal pathways for reason and decision-making have been shortened, and every message goes right to the emotional center of the brain which is constantly on high alert. The change to the emotional center of the brain is also what makes relating to others—even the loving adoptive parents who are now providing a safe home—so difficult.<br />
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Much of her time and energy during the day is spent being vigilant of the world around her and there isn’t any left over for building relationships and trust. It is easier and safer to use behavior (withdrawal, aggression, anxiousness, etc.) to keep others at bay in order to regulate the world in the only way he knows how. Breaking these patterns and re-wiring the brain for trust and healthy relationships can be tiring and difficult, but it can be done.<br />
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Not only does trauma change the emotional wiring in the brain, but it also affects physical development. Many of these children have sensory sensitivities or Sensory Processing Disorder (find more information about SPD <a href="http://www.spdfoundation.net/about-sensory-processing-disorder/)" target="_blank">HERE</a>). They may have language delays, fine or gross motor delays, or learning disorders. Due to both the changes that occur in the brain and the lack of exposure to age appropriate activities, development in these areas will be slower.<br />
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For example, if a child spends their first two years of life in an orphanage with hundreds of other children, she likely will spend most of her time in a crib rather than playing and exploring their world. Children start learning and building connections from the day they are born.<br />
<br />
For children from orphanages, the ability to process information, make associations, and make decisions may be delayed from the lack of opportunity to practice these skills, which will in turn cause challenges in learning and processing information as they grow older. If a baby spends the first two or three months of his life in the NICU, he may also experience similar delays. There is a limited amount of interaction with the world and primary caregivers because of their severe medical needs, which can cause language and motor delays as well.<br />
<b><i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b> <b><i><span style="font-size: large;">Hope for Healing</span></i></b><br />
<br />
Dr. Karen Purvis of the Institute of Child Development at Texas Christian University says that <b>relational trauma can only be healed in the context of <g class="gr_ gr_84 gr-alert gr_gramm Grammar only-ins doubleReplace replaceWithoutSep" data-gr-id="84" id="84"><g class="gr_ gr_243 gr-alert gr_gramm Grammar only-ins doubleReplace replaceWithoutSep" data-gr-id="243" id="243"><g class="gr_ gr_421 gr-alert gr_gramm Grammar only-ins doubleReplace replaceWithoutSep" data-gr-id="421" id="421"><g class="gr_ gr_106 gr-alert gr_gramm Grammar only-ins doubleReplace replaceWithoutSep" data-gr-id="106" id="106"><g class="gr_ gr_106 gr-alert gr_gramm Grammar only-ins doubleReplace replaceWithoutSep" data-gr-id="106" id="106">relationship</g></g></g></g></g></b>. That’s why your role, whatever it is, is so important.<br />
<br />
<u>For those praying, donating, and raising awareness,</u> your role enables those in other roles to keep on. Relationship and healing aren’t possible without your gifts. You can continue to be sensitive toward families with kids from hard places, and help raise awareness for others who don’t know about the effects of trauma.<br />
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<u>For those walking alongside a family with a child from a hard place</u>, your role is invaluable. Loving this child can be tedious and draining before it ever becomes rewarding. Secondary trauma (emotional duress caused when an individual hears about the firsthand trauma of another) is very real for these families. Your support and love for the parents and the family of a child from a hard place is the healing relationship they need. You can continue to be there. Show up when it gets hard. Ask how you can best help. Listen without judging. Work to understand what it’s like.<br />
<br />
<u>And for the family in the middle of the battle of bringing healing to a child from a hard place</u>, there is hope! Your love and investment <g class="gr_ gr_100 gr-alert gr_gramm Grammar multiReplace" data-gr-id="100" id="100"><g class="gr_ gr_267 gr-alert gr_gramm Grammar multiReplace" data-gr-id="267" id="267"><g class="gr_ gr_435 gr-alert gr_gramm Grammar multiReplace" data-gr-id="435" id="435">is</g></g></g> making a difference. Don’t be afraid to ask for help. Seek help from a trained attachment therapist. In attachment therapy, the goal is to help parents and their child connect in meaningful ways in order to meet the needs of the child that were missed early in life and re-wire the damage that was done in the brain due to trauma. Consistent safe and understanding interactions are crucial for changes to be made in the brain at the deep level where the trauma occurred.<br />
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In time, attachment therapy and intentional interaction at home can change how both parents and children see themselves. <b>Parents can see themselves as in control, capable of dealing with a child’s behaviors, strong, and loving.</b> <b>The child can see himself as worthy, loved, competent, special, and learn to see the world as a safe, exciting place.</b><br />
<b><br /></b> About Christa:<span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> <i>I’m a Licensed Associate Marriage & Family Therapist and a Licensed Associate Counselor. I live and work in Bentonville, Arkansas. I’ve been married to my husband Corey for four years - we love all things Bentonville and baseball. In my counseling practice, I primarily work with children and families. I am trained in several attachment and trauma interventions, including Trust-Based Relational Intervention (TBRI), Theraplay, and Trauma-Focused Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (TFCBT). You can reach me via email at christa@encompasshealth.net. </i></span><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04173221116118498902noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1653870502462485970.post-20346617392320272312015-10-26T21:02:00.000-07:002015-10-26T21:20:11.650-07:00Hope for Kids from Hard Places {Part One}<i><span style="font-size: large;">"She'll be fine. All kids are resilient!</span><span style="font-size: large;">"</span></i><br />
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This may sound harsh or dramatic to some, but I believe those words {specifically concerning a child from a hard place} are <b>a lie straight from the pit of hell</b>.<br />
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Words meant to belittle a child's losses are <i>never</i> okay.<br />
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Once you've seen the arrows of the enemy spiraling around your own home - <i>arrows full of debilitating fear and shame and immense grief </i>- you can't deny the magnitude of loss and pain your child has experienced.<br />
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Such profound anguish cannot be swept under a rug with a smile and filed under "resiliency." It just can't.<br />
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Because I believe so many adoptive and foster parents are blindsided by the effects of the trauma our children have endured {regardless of the hours upon hours of training and research and preparation logged}, I've asked a child and family counselor who specializes in trauma and attachment to join us here for a two-part series we are calling "<b>Hope for Kids from Hard Places {& Their Families}</b>."<br />
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Christa is going to walk us through a very brief, easily accessible understanding of trauma, it's widespread effects and, most importantly, the hope for healing for children from hard places. I'm so grateful to Christa for her willingness to share her wisdom here. My hope is that this series will shine a light on the truth that our children are armed with strength and tremendous WORTH. We can't replace what our children have lost, yet we can arm ourselves with tools to aid in their healing.<br />
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"We all have a role to play in the greater story of hope and restoration for kids from hard places. “Hard places” refers to some type of abusive, neglectful or traumatic environment a child has experienced. Most often this references children who are adopted or have spent time in foster care, but can include any child with prenatal exposure to substances or high levels of stress, difficult labor or birth, or medical trauma.<br />
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For some, their role in this story is fostering and adopting. For others, it’s praying, raising awareness, and donating time and resources. Whatever your role, I’d love to share a few things about trauma, attachment, and healing from a counselor’s perspective. <b>My desire is to offer you some insight into the world of a child from a hard place, give hope that healing is possible, and point you to some next steps if you’re walking through this journey or know someone who is."</b><br />
<i><br /></i> <i> - Christa Campbell, Family and Child Counselor </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>** This is the first in a two-part series concerning the effects of trauma. Join us tomorrow as Christa walks us through the widespread effects of trauma and the resounding HOPE for healing for children from hard places. </i><br />
<i><br /></i> ********************************************************************************<br />
<i><br /></i> About Christa:<span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> <i>I’m a Licensed Associate Marriage & Family Therapist and a Licensed Associate Counselor. I live and work in Bentonville, Arkansas. I’ve been married to my husband Corey for four years - we love all things Bentonville and baseball. In my counseling practice, I primarily work with children and families. I am trained in several attachment and trauma interventions, including Trust-Based Relational Intervention (TBRI), Theraplay, and Trauma-Focused Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (TFCBT). You can reach me via email at christa@encompasshealth.net. </i></span><br />
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<img align="center" src="http://i1138.photobucket.com/albums/n522/dani6632/signature-7.png" style="border: 0;" />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04173221116118498902noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1653870502462485970.post-3719837917038912782015-10-24T10:12:00.002-07:002015-10-24T10:15:54.080-07:00joy is a choice. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
The past couple of weeks were a blur.<br />
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I mentioned here that Ben became ill and ended up in the hospital. We did the dance of logistics with friends and family picking up the other kiddos at school and juggling being at Ben's side while caring for his siblings for four exhausting days. Thankfully, it was just a nasty virus. Fluids, <g class="gr_ gr_2382 gr-alert gr_gramm Punctuation only-ins replaceWithoutSep" data-gr-id="2382" id="2382"><g class="gr_ gr_2382 gr-alert gr_gramm Punctuation only-ins replaceWithoutSep" data-gr-id="2382" id="2382"><g class="gr_ gr_2382 gr-alert gr_gramm Punctuation only-ins replaceWithoutSep" data-gr-id="2382" id="2382"><g class="gr_ gr_2382 gr-alert gr_gramm Punctuation only-ins replaceWithoutSep" data-gr-id="2382" id="2382"><g class="gr_ gr_2382 gr-alert gr_gramm Punctuation only-ins replaceWithoutSep" data-gr-id="2382" id="2382"><g class="gr_ gr_2382 gr-alert gr_gramm Punctuation only-ins replaceWithoutSep" data-gr-id="2382" id="2382">rest</g></g></g></g></g></g> and medicine did the trick to get it out of his system.<br />
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Gratitude is not a strong enough word for the flood of relief I feel now that he is back to his silly, sweet self. It was as though we stood on the precipice of a cliff, knowing all of the ways the storyline could play out. Facing fear in the face and choosing to trust a God who is unpredictable is HARD.<br />
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<i>"Faith is deliberate confidence in the character of God whose ways you may not understand at the time." - Oswald Chambers</i><br />
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After Ben was feeling better, we went ahead with our vacation plans to the beach. <b>There, God reminded me of our need for seasons to unplug and be present with our people, about the importance of<i> being still </i>and allowing our souls to breathe.</b><br />
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<i><i><span style="font-family: inherit;">The Lord is my shepherd,<span data-cr="#cen-NIV-14237A" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14237A" title="See cross-reference A">A</a>)"></span> I lack nothing.</span></i></i></div>
<i> </i></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>He makes me lie down in green pastures,</i><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">he leads me beside quiet waters,</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i></i><i>he refreshes my soul.</i><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">{Psalm 23: 1-3}</span></i></div>
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We came home and faced the aftermath of two unpredictable weeks for our Sylvie. She still struggles with unfamiliar and changes to routine. Maybe she always will. I don't know. All I know is that this past week was HARD.<br />
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I never want to paint an overly rosy picture of adoption. I also never want to glaze over the beauty even in the hardest of hard. <b>Adoption is a broken and messy kind of beautiful. </b><br />
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I know there are families who transition easily into their new normal, who just walk forward without skipping a beat. Love and bonding and attachment happen seamlessly.<br />
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We are not that family.<br />
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I want to be honest in that. I so strongly believe that other families who are struggling silently need to know that they are not alone. I have an amazing network of support. I have other mommas to lean on who get it. I can be honest and real and share the ugly. I am so grateful for the ones who listen to me vent and cry and yell and love me anyway. Who gently remind me to take it one day at a time. Who pray for <g class="gr_ gr_4661 gr-alert gr_gramm SentenceStructure multiReplace" data-gr-id="4661" id="4661"><g class="gr_ gr_4661 gr-alert gr_gramm SentenceStructure multiReplace" data-gr-id="4661" id="4661"><g class="gr_ gr_4661 gr-alert gr_gramm SentenceStructure multiReplace" data-gr-id="4661" id="4661"><g class="gr_ gr_4661 gr-alert gr_gramm SentenceStructure multiReplace" data-gr-id="4661" id="4661"><g class="gr_ gr_4661 gr-alert gr_gramm SentenceStructure multiReplace" data-gr-id="4661" id="4661"><g class="gr_ gr_4661 gr-alert gr_gramm SentenceStructure multiReplace" data-gr-id="4661" id="4661">me and my girl</g></g></g></g></g></g>. Who model selfless love for me.<br />
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It's an ongoing, always evolving journey toward wholeness. Even though we have days that feel as though we have taken ten steps backward and will never climb out of the pit, we also have the most incredible glimpses of joy and such sweetness that I am left speechless.<br />
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In all of this, I've been continually learning the wonderful lesson of intentionally seeking joy, particularly in the hard moments. Because, after all, <b><i>joy is a choice.</i></b> I can choose to sit in the bitterness, the unanswered questions, the anger, or I can choose to shift my focus to the progress, the laughter, the good.<br />
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That photo at the top of this post? It's a reminder of how I have spent the past several days sitting on the front porch swing watching the leaves turn on those TWO trees out front. We only have <i>two</i> bright trees reflecting the glory of autumn although there are so many others in our yard. I choose to keep my eyes on them. I love that they are right out front and I can watch through the windows as the colors shift and the leaves start to fall.<br />
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It's all about perspective.<br />
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Yes, indeed. Joy <b><i>is</i></b> a choice.<br />
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<img align="center" src="http://i1138.photobucket.com/albums/n522/dani6632/signature-7.png" style="border: 0;" /><br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04173221116118498902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1653870502462485970.post-73439510757811977052015-10-16T06:51:00.001-07:002015-10-16T06:55:14.399-07:00salty air makes everything better. This is what I've been up to for the past few days.<br />
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After four days of Ben being hospitalized for a crazy virus that left him dehydrated and weak and extremely cranky, we were finally allowed to come home last Friday. Originally, we had planned to leave for the beach that night for our annual fall getaway, but we decided to wait a few days to let Ben rest and continue to recover. He had a rough couple of days that weekend. I thought our beach plans would need to be cancelled.<br />
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Yet, here we are. Answered prayers!!! He is 100% back to his normal, silly, sweet, eat-everything-in-sight self. I am so, so thankful. Not just to be here breathing in the salty air, but to have my boy back. He had me worried.<br />
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The drive in was adventurous... twelve hours overnight, one SCREAMING little one who proceeded to vomit just to prove her point: "I. WANT. OUT. OF. THIS. CAR." One flat tire at 3 am in a place that gives new meaning to the phrase "the middle of nowhere." And one serious celebration as we ascended <i>the</i> bridge, welcoming us in with ocean views and a spectacular sunrise on the horizon. We had made it.<br />
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We've spent our days playing in the sand, swimming in the sea, eating donut ice cream sandwiches (this is a thing. I can't even), and taking leisurely afternoon naps. Perfection...<br />
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...with the exception of all of the sibling squabbles and tears. For some reason, these four little people have been a little crankier than usual. And, yes, these words did escape my lips yesterday, "<i>that's it! We are on vacation and we <b>WILL</b> have fun!</i>"<br />
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New mercies each morning.<br />
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Nate is off fishing with daddy (he is the most serious little fisherman) and the other three littles are playing at my feet. They're making one another laugh with a made-up game involving a truck, a stuffed monkey and a race car. I'm not really clear on what is happening but I know better than to mess with a good thing.<br />
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Happy Friday, friends.<br />
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If you need me, I'll be completely ignoring my phone, email and messages for the next several days. My priorities include breathing deeply, looking into the eyes of my loves while they recount stories of adventures at sea and jumping the waves in the (freezing!) water next to my favorite people.<br />
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<i>*Oh, yes. And, despite the fact that listening to my own voice is reminiscent of nails on a chalkboard, I can't not share Part 2 of my interview with Tiffany over at <a href="http://www.stuffandthingsblog.com/podcast-episode-7-jenny-marrs-part-two-adopting-one-and-feeding-hundreds-trusting-god-to-build-the-life-he-wants-you-to-lead/" target="_blank">A Mom's Mission Field</a>. In this episode, we talk about the details behind our adoption and how Feed Their Tummies began. I hope you enjoy it. Listen <a href="http://www.stuffandthingsblog.com/podcast-episode-7-jenny-marrs-part-two-adopting-one-and-feeding-hundreds-trusting-god-to-build-the-life-he-wants-you-to-lead/" target="_blank">HERE</a>. </i><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04173221116118498902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1653870502462485970.post-32301619845791247512015-10-07T08:25:00.001-07:002015-10-07T08:29:49.153-07:00my boy. The boy who first made me a momma (one minute before his brother...and he won't ever let Nathan forget that he is the oldest) has been sick. The helpless feeling watching your little one in pain is the absolute worst. After a week of sickness, thinking whatever stomach bug this is would go away, we finally ended up in the ER on Sunday night because he was in so much pain.<br />
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After a round of IV fluids and lots of testing, including a CT scan (thoroughly shaking me up), we were sent home.<br />
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The next night was <g class="gr_ gr_147 gr-alert gr_gramm Grammar multiReplace" data-gr-id="147" id="147">a LOONNNGG</g> one with lots of projectile-ing (I'll spare you the details), therefore, I called his pediatrician in the morning to follow up. After a brief check-in at the clinic, we were sent home with a Zofran prescription and orders for rest and plenty of fluid intake.<br />
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As the morning went on, he seemed to be getting worse. He couldn't keep a drop of ANYTHING down. <i>Water, <g class="gr_ gr_142 gr-alert gr_spell ContextualSpelling ins-del multiReplace" data-gr-id="142" id="142">gatorade</g>, <g class="gr_ gr_143 gr-alert gr_spell ContextualSpelling ins-del multiReplace" data-gr-id="143" id="143">pedialyte</g></i>... everything came right back up. He started to get very lethargic and stopped talking altogether. I was on the phone with his pediatrician's office on and off throughout the day giving updates. I <i>knew</i> something wasn't right.<br />
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Thankfully, his pediatrician called at one point and asked me an important question I hadn't even thought about: "<i>when was the last time he went pee?</i>" I realized I didn't know the answer. It had been a while. She wanted to see him again so we loaded up and drove back to the clinic.<br />
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She looked him over and confirmed he was dehydrated and would be admitted to the hospital. I am so thankful she made that decision. He is now receiving his fourth bag of IV fluid and is starting to look like his old self again. The labwork from last night showed that he was severely dehydrated. I can hardly think of what would have happened if he hadn't been here getting such excellent care. He had another long night of getting sick. If that would have happened at home, without the access to IV fluids, well...I just can't think about it.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">He hasn't stopped smiling!</span></td></tr>
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They still aren't sure exactly what is causing him to be so sick. More tests will be run today. Likely just a nasty virus. Regardless, he will be okay. He is already starting to feel much better and I couldn't be more grateful!!!<br />
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This whole experience makes me think of all of the mommas around the world who have no access to care. The helpless feeling of watching your baby get sick and be in pain for these women is magnified tremendously because they don't have a doctor on call or a hospital down the road. I just ache for those mommas. I am incredibly fortunate to have been born here in the US and I pray that I never take the abundance of gifts here for granted.<br />
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Have a wonderful Wednesday, my friends. Hopefully, we will break out of here soon enough to enjoy the gorgeous fall day outside.<br />
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So many of you have prayed for my boy and I cannot thank you enough!<br />
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<i>*Oh! I can't forget to share that I recently had the really cool experience of being interviewed for <a href="http://www.stuffandthingsblog.com/podcast-episode-6-jenny-marrs-part-one-infertility-a-farmhouse-and-a-little-girl-in-the-congo-trusting-god-to-build-the-life-he-wants-you-to-lead/" target="_blank">A Mom's Mission Field Podcast.</a> Tiffany and I had a conversation about my journey through infertility, premature twins, adoption and more. We talk about how God interrupted MY plans for HIS. And, of course, His <g class="gr_ gr_70 gr-alert gr_gramm Grammar multiReplace" data-gr-id="70" id="70"><g class="gr_ gr_70 gr-alert gr_gramm Grammar multiReplace" data-gr-id="70" id="70">were</g></g> much, much better. (Also, forgive the rambling. Apparently, I do that. I am anything but brief. Gah. <b>Not</b> my gifting...) :)</i></div>
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<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">To listen, visit </span><a href="http://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2FTiffanyCastleberry.com%2F&h=gAQFrAhn4AQEk0zCcNnqH-Ay2XaGNx3-Hv0pYmqLT5Ntfcw&enc=AZMq6CO5EVOFhc_WAID20bHq_mFsVaR1jLhEa-2Nq-p-BI2rHW2JmO0DmQKkzyHExnPdJHZijkydkGsl1RLKpxYBUiG-r1SEOEOaHvn85-gFuqlxcUKrjOE3NBQx7X4Jm_Z0rNd77tNwQb-XUgrOYWZqBfmC82Myh3oahVF_1PwGa01n1qQuxvaEmvAmsq4H-tE&s=1" rel="nofollow" style="background-color: white; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">TiffanyCastleberry.com </a><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">and click on "podcasts." Or search for "A Mom's Mission Field" on iTunes or stitcher and subscribe.</span></i></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04173221116118498902noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1653870502462485970.post-56406345359572958142015-10-02T10:02:00.001-07:002015-10-02T10:02:15.476-07:00Feed MORE Tummies. {let's do this}.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkdt_xqXQJoX13tSgcDO9cSy2mCgd3SALfyLS8EtIIsqkOB-_jqJE7wlsJOMxFWWRwRb5Y9IopAdWh6wMSjMUeoC6n1D_BnyBWgeTl-EkNXepcgXSvzJGYJjWPqm4O19N4e0lQYwuiqt-K/s1600/IMG_0023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkdt_xqXQJoX13tSgcDO9cSy2mCgd3SALfyLS8EtIIsqkOB-_jqJE7wlsJOMxFWWRwRb5Y9IopAdWh6wMSjMUeoC6n1D_BnyBWgeTl-EkNXepcgXSvzJGYJjWPqm4O19N4e0lQYwuiqt-K/s640/IMG_0023.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Because of the generosity of each supporter of<a href="http://www.feedtheirtummies.org/" target="_blank"> Feed Their Tummies,</a> these beautiful and precious children have <b><i>food</i></b>. Life's most basic necessity. The money <a href="http://mwangazaint.org/" target="_blank">Mwangaza International</a> had budgeted for this vital resource can be reallocated toward other life-giving work:<i> education, healthcare, Bible teachings, counseling, orphan prevention, family reunification (particularly for the girls rescued out of trafficking), community empowerment.</i><br />
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I have personally been blessed beyond measure watching as friends, <g class="gr_ gr_189 gr-alert gr_gramm Punctuation only-ins replaceWithoutSep" data-gr-id="189" id="189">family</g> and complete strangers have joined us in this work. The outpouring of love for these children around the globe has been remarkable.<br />
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I've said it before: I know how the needs of this world can be overwhelming, paralyzing us into thinking that we can't make a difference or <g class="gr_ gr_9063 gr-alert gr_gramm Grammar multiReplace" data-gr-id="9063" id="9063">feeling</g> like our small contribution toward change is insignificant. <b>Let me be clear: that is a flat-out LIE. </b><br />
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: 18px;">Our </span><em style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: 18px;"><strong>something</strong></em><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: 18px;"> may feel small. </span></span></div>
<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Our </span><em style="font-family: inherit;"><strong>something</strong></em><span style="font-family: inherit;"> may feel insignificant. </span></div>
</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">But, God. God is big.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">He will use what we offer up to Him.</span></div>
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Humbly, I come to you today asking you to consider joining us in this work.<br />
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When Dave visited a couple of weeks ago, he learned that orphanages all over the capital city of Kinshasa have been shutting down due to the halt of international adoption.<br />
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Children move to the streets when an orphanage closes its doors.<br />
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There is no backup plan.<br />
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Government assistance does not exist.<br />
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Our partners at Mwangaza International have taken in some of these children off the streets. <b>The number of children in our largest orphanage has grown by SIXTY children in two months. </b><i>200 children in one orphanage</i>. That is NOT okay.<br />
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Please know our heart in this: <b>our number one goal is to preserve families</b>. <b>To prevent orphans</b>. That's it. That's the ideal. And we do have amazing plans for new ways to work in the DR Congo that will empower local churches and transform communities with the ultimate goal of preventing children from living on the streets or in an orphanage. I can't wait to share all of the details with you all soon.<br />
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Yet, we can't keep our eyes focused on the goal and ignore the urgency of the need right here, right now.<br />
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For now, I am coming to you to say that <u><i>we need help</i>.</u><b> It costs $29 per child for a full month's worth of food </b>(three meals a day) and the sudden rise of the number of children has caused us to come up short on funds in order to feed every child, every day.<br />
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I need you to consider partnering with us to do this work.<br />
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The two most important ways to do so are:</div>
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<li><b>Prayer</b>. {We need <g class="gr_ gr_9005 gr-alert gr_gramm Punctuation only-ins replaceWithoutSep" data-gr-id="9005" id="9005">prayer</g> partners! Please do not undervalue the importance of this type of partnership}.</li>
<li><b>Giving</b>. {This can be either a one-time or monthly gift. All gifts are tax-deductible}. <span style="background-color: yellow;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Click </span><a href="https://www.purecharity.com/fundraisers/4353/fund" style="font-weight: bold;" target="_blank">HERE</a><span style="font-weight: bold;"> to partner with us now. </span></span></li>
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And, you guys. Purchasing power. We have two awesome opportunities for you to purchase gifts that will benefit our work! </div>
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<b>>> <span style="font-size: large;">Shirts</span>! {Kids & Adult T-Shirts! Adult Baseball Tees! Adult Sweatshirts!}</b></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">Our adorable adult & children shirts and sweatshirts </span><b style="background-color: white;">can be purchased</b><b style="background-color: yellow;"> <a href="http://feedtheirtummies.bigcartel.com/" target="_blank">HERE</a></b><span style="background-color: yellow;">.</span> </div>
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<b>>> <span style="font-size: large;">Superhero capes</span></b>! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQtq8dhQekq6cN0FBDoArN7JW3s9957q1di04hhs7ih2cROZnTDIftGHKUkBlArVOJ6oIXRQAl3yDq0FcSmYh0msNCKyYIiSf9zXbNt-iOEfX0pZd5rQXrxF9vekvY1S62WAv8jQ_MvMnA/s1600/cape+final.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQtq8dhQekq6cN0FBDoArN7JW3s9957q1di04hhs7ih2cROZnTDIftGHKUkBlArVOJ6oIXRQAl3yDq0FcSmYh0msNCKyYIiSf9zXbNt-iOEfX0pZd5rQXrxF9vekvY1S62WAv8jQ_MvMnA/s640/cape+final.jpg" width="424" /></a></div>
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Oh my goodness. These capes are ADORABLE and so well made. My own kiddos love these and they are my favorite go-to gift idea for little ones. You can even use this as an education opportunity for your children - they are being a superhero to a child in need just by wearing their cape! A friend has generously offered to donate a portion of the proceeds from these <g class="gr_ gr_9006 gr-alert gr_spell ContextualSpelling" data-gr-id="9006" id="9006">capes</g> <b>for the next two weeks</b> to Feed Their Tummies. (!!)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNfZymjMTNIiYKSxFBe8aFGu9eNiOI_-edqN7VbQu0jHfQApRSqdU_i855pHvSBij8EIwc1rsg85aD5xlgRaiLW5hI8LvyjCloN6FYwgZAlrl0t_TA9Lt2nLc8mXic47cDpO8dKrJOF-jR/s1600/12106962_10207864336190948_3911888886977069719_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNfZymjMTNIiYKSxFBe8aFGu9eNiOI_-edqN7VbQu0jHfQApRSqdU_i855pHvSBij8EIwc1rsg85aD5xlgRaiLW5hI8LvyjCloN6FYwgZAlrl0t_TA9Lt2nLc8mXic47cDpO8dKrJOF-jR/s640/12106962_10207864336190948_3911888886977069719_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b style="background-color: yellow;">If you would like to order a cape, email me your preference at jenny@feedtheirtummies.com.</b></div>
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We are all a small part of this incredible story God is writing. I ask that you join us in changing the story for these children. Changing the story from hungry to full. <b>From despair to Hope</b>. </div>
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THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!<br />
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And, much love to you, sweet friends. </div>
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<img align="center" src="http://i1138.photobucket.com/albums/n522/dani6632/signature-7.png" style="border: 0;" /><br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04173221116118498902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1653870502462485970.post-62457742160599778222015-09-25T12:22:00.000-07:002015-09-25T15:47:39.765-07:00Friday Favorites<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I had to share a few things that are currently making me very happy.<br />
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<b>1. Daddy's home!</b><br />
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First and foremost - Dave came home after two full weeks in Africa (Congo, South Africa & Zimbabwe). I'll share more about his incredible trip in another post. For now, we are all soaking in the joy that comes with having daddy back HOME.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoCrYeLu0vq5iULPRRbz96rCFqiej3ErzCfg37JgCS5rZE8oqm7uAZVamby54YEeCjhiN2ZZ6eUK7Ajpd47LzbWQagNsWmocoJPoUi-iHxSAke9A9wbefpOBz3peGv__sLDpTWPRccLrqb/s1600/DSC_6937.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoCrYeLu0vq5iULPRRbz96rCFqiej3ErzCfg37JgCS5rZE8oqm7uAZVamby54YEeCjhiN2ZZ6eUK7Ajpd47LzbWQagNsWmocoJPoUi-iHxSAke9A9wbefpOBz3peGv__sLDpTWPRccLrqb/s640/DSC_6937.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOmTLzc2RnrCf7fQp7IyEG_w-r59JNWroO2PDSGFCcUeCRSDyhg_B1i0RQ1UK4CX2W2_Aja1GgZNNY82DQ-8Wh6cLfZVP791gehb-T9ag2hJUXihtSZip906JWjJzFbNLIHixRXCdn25iw/s1600/DSC_6944.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOmTLzc2RnrCf7fQp7IyEG_w-r59JNWroO2PDSGFCcUeCRSDyhg_B1i0RQ1UK4CX2W2_Aja1GgZNNY82DQ-8Wh6cLfZVP791gehb-T9ag2hJUXihtSZip906JWjJzFbNLIHixRXCdn25iw/s640/DSC_6944.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUHOEmKgetEZAauMFwmMDzLJjTZR13q2ryUrykI130l3MdDYq23dryH_ChqfZOAUOtMM6GumcqbR0S0oz2J2bI_bQ5L9AYQewrXfdrNVA7T3TQRpkcg0mh2TQhyphenhyphenpicdNmbGbFRzYxy_QeX/s1600/DSC_6946.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUHOEmKgetEZAauMFwmMDzLJjTZR13q2ryUrykI130l3MdDYq23dryH_ChqfZOAUOtMM6GumcqbR0S0oz2J2bI_bQ5L9AYQewrXfdrNVA7T3TQRpkcg0mh2TQhyphenhyphenpicdNmbGbFRzYxy_QeX/s640/DSC_6946.jpg" width="424" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiioBxhXRxNUdbiHx-zDul11Dc8Xml28uanEicRlFtJ8QMYvk4CgHWKA7GLNxP2Ojd4uFRaqLdK9HIFNnHieiLFVT3nPrXUYavM9DIhycI5Xi_l1stlw9u6YTBaRcD4QEhoZSrQ98x2gejd/s1600/12002369_10207771737475970_275318416536717340_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiioBxhXRxNUdbiHx-zDul11Dc8Xml28uanEicRlFtJ8QMYvk4CgHWKA7GLNxP2Ojd4uFRaqLdK9HIFNnHieiLFVT3nPrXUYavM9DIhycI5Xi_l1stlw9u6YTBaRcD4QEhoZSrQ98x2gejd/s640/12002369_10207771737475970_275318416536717340_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">He surprised the boys at school. TEARS. Y'all. These boys were over the moon.</span></td></tr>
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<b>2. <a href="http://stitchfix.com/referral/5342758" target="_blank">Stitch Fix.</a> </b><br />
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You guys. I had heard about Stitch Fix for months and months but never took the plunge. And, then, I did and I will forever sing <g class="gr_ gr_140 gr-alert gr_spell ContextualSpelling" data-gr-id="140" id="140"><g class="gr_ gr_103 gr-alert gr_spell ContextualSpelling" data-gr-id="103" id="103">it's</g></g> praises.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBGKGMlH7Uaxj_GfCVVeHA0hogDhTxYtabhzNb-0iygZsqNWAKju1I-bM8Xs5_Q4bEdWqv0-6EvCKm_gF_T3tYo4_231rFesAY8Kr6AMvu_B0u19DQaX7UUWo408yk5v5Dl3amWZiZdEjL/s1600/DSC_6956.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBGKGMlH7Uaxj_GfCVVeHA0hogDhTxYtabhzNb-0iygZsqNWAKju1I-bM8Xs5_Q4bEdWqv0-6EvCKm_gF_T3tYo4_231rFesAY8Kr6AMvu_B0u19DQaX7UUWo408yk5v5Dl3amWZiZdEjL/s640/DSC_6956.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A few of my favorite knits for fall... </td></tr>
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<g class="gr_ gr_144 gr-alert gr_gramm Punctuation only-ins replaceWithoutSep" data-gr-id="144" id="144"><g class="gr_ gr_105 gr-alert gr_gramm Punctuation only-ins replaceWithoutSep" data-gr-id="105" id="105">Oh</g></g> my word. I never have time to shop for myself...by myself. So, this amazing style service does it for me. LOVE.<br />
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<i>A few tips:</i><br />
1. Create a Pinterest board of style ideas that you love and share with your Fix Stylist,<br />
2. Make your age younger (if you're over 30) to get cuter styles (thanks <a href="http://www.kellyskornerblog.com/" target="_blank">Kelly</a> for this tip!),<br />
3. Share very detailed feedback with your stylist after you receive your items.<br />
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<a href="https://schmidtsdeodorant.com//lavender-sage-jar.html" target="_blank">3. <g class="gr_ gr_117 gr-alert gr_spell ContextualSpelling ins-del multiReplace" data-gr-id="117" id="117"><g class="gr_ gr_94 gr-alert gr_spell ContextualSpelling ins-del multiReplace" data-gr-id="94" id="94">Schmidts</g></g> Natural Deodorant. </a> *<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTZ7HWWQgZtLpqlUBzrQxgSjbS5hW-RzLDASr83rR2FCsNb81C7_Lg1tXpYtxqKlIz_0F46vE-_zx_RpVZM9rG-7LzDhk5-z3VPZ1w8dFo-LtGMVDi-SLYx_6vrqa38gqwY1M7L4F_Qsdp/s1600/Untitled-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTZ7HWWQgZtLpqlUBzrQxgSjbS5hW-RzLDASr83rR2FCsNb81C7_Lg1tXpYtxqKlIz_0F46vE-_zx_RpVZM9rG-7LzDhk5-z3VPZ1w8dFo-LtGMVDi-SLYx_6vrqa38gqwY1M7L4F_Qsdp/s640/Untitled-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I've been looking for a natural deodorant that ACTUALLY works for <i>years </i>with no luck. Until now. This little jar is free of aluminum, propylene glycol, <g class="gr_ gr_145 gr-alert gr_gramm Punctuation only-ins replaceWithoutSep" data-gr-id="145" id="145"><g class="gr_ gr_109 gr-alert gr_gramm Punctuation only-ins replaceWithoutSep" data-gr-id="109" id="109">parabens</g></g> and phthalates and keeps you dry. It is slightly more work to apply - <i>you have to scoop it out with this cute little spatula and then apply by hand </i>- but the little hassle is worth it for the results.<br />
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4. My most favorite app of <g class="gr_ gr_96 gr-alert gr_spell ContextualSpelling ins-del multiReplace" data-gr-id="96" id="96">ALL TIME</g>: <a href="https://www.artkiveapp.com/" target="_blank">ArtKive</a>. *<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0WwCD67cTKaB3IHjfuXN9SrYR1wHL5BNjwHs_xtp3_jleKS3zx-8y_z7s1Bk0hqkB3e29GNtSCS-7Tt-BD76812cPwjcix4c3-nna-R9z4DQUEm9BIsAgZbjUnHhQAghXBngw8vbxJ0B8/s1600/DSC_6966.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0WwCD67cTKaB3IHjfuXN9SrYR1wHL5BNjwHs_xtp3_jleKS3zx-8y_z7s1Bk0hqkB3e29GNtSCS-7Tt-BD76812cPwjcix4c3-nna-R9z4DQUEm9BIsAgZbjUnHhQAghXBngw8vbxJ0B8/s640/DSC_6966.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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You take a photo of your little's artwork, file it by <g class="gr_ gr_106 gr-alert gr_gramm Grammar only-ins doubleReplace replaceWithoutSep" data-gr-id="106" id="106">child</g> by age and then print a cute book when you're ready. Ta-da!<br />
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Now, I no longer feel guilty when I throw away the 50 trillion pieces of artwork that come home from school or are created on any given day by my little artists. I recently printed a book from the boys' preschool years and now plan to do one each school year. Seriously, this is <g class="gr_ gr_111 gr-alert gr_gramm Grammar only-ins doubleReplace replaceWithoutSep" data-gr-id="111" id="111">genius</g>. And the quality of the book is amazing. I can't stop raving about it.<br />
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<a href="http://citysessions.org/bentonville/" target="_blank">5. The Bentonville Sessions. </a><br />
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We launched a new season this past Sunday. If you are local to NW Arkansas, please join us each month. I wrote more about The Sessions <a href="http://www.blessingsandraindrops.com/2014/12/the-bentonville-sessions.html" target="_blank">HERE</a>. The best part of all ... proceeds go directly to our feeding program with <a href="http://www.feedtheirtummies.org/" target="_blank">Feed Their Tummies</a>.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQkzMdiBBXYj0rg10zWzYR6YJY5fhatTJ9KZcPf0XWCDa2YdSo713B3w9sSXkpr1ddhaE6IKw0DM-BLpNHfVkhAGGiVBMaFhxTxYuvdA5_q2d2OA0h8PyKU06yVIENyWb-m2xUkJWZsWRj/s1600/DSC_6893.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQkzMdiBBXYj0rg10zWzYR6YJY5fhatTJ9KZcPf0XWCDa2YdSo713B3w9sSXkpr1ddhaE6IKw0DM-BLpNHfVkhAGGiVBMaFhxTxYuvdA5_q2d2OA0h8PyKU06yVIENyWb-m2xUkJWZsWRj/s640/DSC_6893.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Oh, did I mention that we launched The Sessions exactly one year ago today? AND, our very first artist was the incredibly talented Barrett Baber. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Tj2xslr0Yc&feature=youtu.be" target="_blank">Did you see his <g class="gr_ gr_108 gr-alert gr_spell ContextualSpelling ins-del multiReplace" data-gr-id="108" id="108">auditon</g> on The Voice</a>?!? FOUR CHAIRS! We are so proud of him. Be sure to watch and support him this season!<br />
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6. <a href="http://www.feedtheirtummies.bigcartel.com/" target="_blank">Feed Their Tummies sweatshirts</a>. **<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLxtqfpoLT_xk_2wZbMZHSTN4kcGId_uSvENYmwHxTxBmhXtdy2Hfw2Iff-CB3_fX29eR3H5vAOHreed9Dc7t5rZsDa0Wv9ZhRbbs_gOXhyuq4g22D0fJ4zURC4LVRyOThLyINibf5jo5c/s1600/sweatshirt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLxtqfpoLT_xk_2wZbMZHSTN4kcGId_uSvENYmwHxTxBmhXtdy2Hfw2Iff-CB3_fX29eR3H5vAOHreed9Dc7t5rZsDa0Wv9ZhRbbs_gOXhyuq4g22D0fJ4zURC4LVRyOThLyINibf5jo5c/s640/sweatshirt.jpg" width="448" /></a></div>
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These are THE most comfortable sweatshirts of all time. I am currently pretending that the weather actually coincides with the date on the calendar by turning the AC way down and snuggling up in this cozy shirt while I type and drink my hot cinnamon tea.<br />
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I hope this was helpful! Have an awesome weekend, friends.<br />
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<i>*Disclaimer: I'm getting no compensation for this post - these guys don't even know I exist. I just love this stuff and had to share with you all. :) </i><br />
<i>** All proceeds from the <g class="gr_ gr_184 gr-alert gr_spell ContextualSpelling ins-del multiReplace" data-gr-id="184" id="184">sweatshirt go </g>toward feeding the children in our feeding program in DR Congo. </i><br />
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<img align="center" src="http://i1138.photobucket.com/albums/n522/dani6632/signature-7.png" style="border: 0;" /><br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04173221116118498902noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1653870502462485970.post-53178675913658373812015-09-16T08:26:00.001-07:002015-09-16T08:34:31.684-07:00soothing fear. Dave <a href="http://www.blessingsandraindrops.com/2015/09/when-he-asks-you-to-move-you-move.html" target="_blank">traveling to Congo</a> has understandably been hard on Sylvie.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyD9BNGb4ROjm28eVPp2hzdmLCCZjs0ZvYecHHcneYx6vamc9CpP2A5ZqsLyGUZSIZ-KO34JPVx3sDh17HBqZBtLOD-XjoTnRyzSS2XSCSP_Q5OUjLaR-fR0-UdINmDy7j39tgXB4vBGnb/s1600/DSC_6735bw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyD9BNGb4ROjm28eVPp2hzdmLCCZjs0ZvYecHHcneYx6vamc9CpP2A5ZqsLyGUZSIZ-KO34JPVx3sDh17HBqZBtLOD-XjoTnRyzSS2XSCSP_Q5OUjLaR-fR0-UdINmDy7j39tgXB4vBGnb/s640/DSC_6735bw.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg08-otIhgR0tvgTTVmlg2MvIKhopUHDRfF2S-EmZvPj_q6Eo9hBKmXGiN83ifqZLKaahHE1cu-0P3RljQezyKthQNnn399fNay9ybocN4_tlEKK20fN3i9BvCZ8ppnkZnMUGX9Hqce3id1/s1600/DSC_6739.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg08-otIhgR0tvgTTVmlg2MvIKhopUHDRfF2S-EmZvPj_q6Eo9hBKmXGiN83ifqZLKaahHE1cu-0P3RljQezyKthQNnn399fNay9ybocN4_tlEKK20fN3i9BvCZ8ppnkZnMUGX9Hqce3id1/s320/DSC_6739.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Several months ago, Dave went to Haiti with <a href="https://www.helponenow.org/" target="_blank">Help One Now</a> to learn from and listen to the local leaders there. We struggled through that time apart, yet it was more of the typical <i>managing-four-littles-alone-and-exhausted</i> type of struggle.<br />
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This trip, however, has been entirely different. Behaviors have resurfaced that we haven't seen in nearly a year. She has cried daily, and not the <i>get-attention-semi-fake-cry</i>, but a real, deep <i>weeping </i>cry. She has been having a really hard time sleeping (she is typically an AMAZING sleeper, praise God). She wakes up screaming, "daddy! daddy!" in the night. She is fearful and separation anxiety kicks in when I leave her side.<br />
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Kiddos with a history of trauma have a hard time dealing with change, especially changes to routine. The familiarity of routine and constant caregivers are comforting. <g class="gr_ gr_4751 gr-alert gr_gramm Grammar multiReplace" data-gr-id="4751" id="4751"><g class="gr_ gr_5141 gr-alert gr_gramm Grammar multiReplace" data-gr-id="5141" id="5141"><g class="gr_ gr_131 gr-alert gr_gramm Grammar multiReplace" data-gr-id="131" id="131"><g class="gr_ gr_131 gr-alert gr_gramm Grammar multiReplace" data-gr-id="131" id="131"><g class="gr_ gr_131 gr-alert gr_gramm Grammar multiReplace" data-gr-id="131" id="131"><g class="gr_ gr_131 gr-alert gr_gramm Grammar multiReplace" data-gr-id="131" id="131"><g class="gr_ gr_131 gr-alert gr_gramm Grammar multiReplace" data-gr-id="131" id="131">Trusted caregivers</g></g></g></g></g></g></g> leaving on an airplane? <b>Anxiety inducing. </b>Big time.<br />
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Sylvie asks no less than 500 times a day when daddy will be home. She asks if daddy is eating breakfast while she eats breakfast. She asks if daddy is eating lunch while she eats lunch... repeat, repeat, all. day. long. I have been practicing the art of patience with the even more than usual (and the usual is A LOT) onslaught of questions.<br />
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Jen Hatmaker's recent post, <a href="http://jenhatmaker.com/blog/2015/09/14/preparing-teachers-for-our-adopted-kiddos" target="_blank">Preparing Teachers for our Adopted Kiddos</a>, was spot on:<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #4e4a41; font-family: Questrial, Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 27px;">"</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #4e4a41; line-height: 27px;">She asks so very many questions, mainly relating to time and calendaring and schedules. ... Her life has been hard, and one of her issues is needing to constantly know </span><i style="background-color: white; color: #4e4a41; line-height: 27px;">what</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #4e4a41; line-height: 27px;"> is going on and </span><i style="background-color: white; color: #4e4a41; line-height: 27px;">when</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #4e4a41; line-height: 27px;"> and </span><i style="background-color: white; color: #4e4a41; line-height: 27px;">for how long</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #4e4a41; line-height: 27px;">. It is one area she can control, so her questions are endless.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #4e4a41; line-height: 27px;">"</span></span><br />
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Sylvie is very close to her daddy so it is hard to be apart from him. Yet, his going to Congo is a whole thing in itself. It is confusing and scary. I have no idea what's going on in her little mind. <i>Does she think he is going there to bring home another child? Does she think he is going and not coming back? Is she simply grieving the trauma of leaving her birth country? </i><br />
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Y'all, this adoptive parenting thing is not for the faint of heart.<br />
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Conversations with other adoptive mamas have sparked my desire to share what's working for us while he is away. I most definitely do not have all of the answers here, yet, I thought I would list a few practical tips (oh my word, I need <b>practical</b> approaches that actually work) that have been helpful. Many of these were developed while brainstorming with Sylvie's (amazing) play therapist. (I'll share more on our experience with play therapy in another post... I've had several questions about this and I could go on and on.)<br />
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Here you go, <u style="font-weight: bold;">a few practical ideas to soothe fear in your adoptive child during times of change:</u><br />
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<b>1. Lotion, baby powder, shaving cream. Stock up.</b> When she is unable to calm down, I gently apply lotion on her hands and model deep breaths for her as I do. Then, I ask her to apply the lotion to my hands and we take deep breaths together. Baby powder is an instant calming agent for her, as well. She actually lights up when I bring the baby powder out. We sit outside on the steps and just go to town. She rubs it in her hands and then on her legs. Sometimes she applies to my hands and legs and arms and <g class="gr_ gr_9348 gr-alert gr_gramm Punctuation multiReplace" data-gr-id="9348" id="9348">feet..</g> I let her lead. Same with the shaving cream. She can sit in the bathtub with a pile of shaving cream for a good chunk of time. It is soothing and calming for her and appeals to her sensory seeking needs.<br />
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<b>2. Wear daddy's shirts</b>. When she is sad, I grab one his shirts and allow her to wear it. The fact that she can barely walk in it makes her laugh in and of itself. Because they're so big on her, she doesn't wear it to bed (but my boys do and love it), so we cover a pillow with the shirt and she keeps it with her through the night to wrap her arms around.<br />
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<b>3. Use the word "safe" <g class="gr_ gr_70 gr-alert gr_gramm Grammar multiReplace" data-gr-id="70" id="70"><g class="gr_ gr_5139 gr-alert gr_gramm Grammar multiReplace" data-gr-id="5139" id="5139"><g class="gr_ gr_159 gr-alert gr_gramm Grammar multiReplace" data-gr-id="159" id="159"><g class="gr_ gr_159 gr-alert gr_gramm Grammar multiReplace" data-gr-id="159" id="159"><g class="gr_ gr_159 gr-alert gr_gramm Grammar multiReplace" data-gr-id="159" id="159"><g class="gr_ gr_159 gr-alert gr_gramm Grammar multiReplace" data-gr-id="159" id="159"><g class="gr_ gr_159 gr-alert gr_gramm Grammar multiReplace" data-gr-id="159" id="159">a LOT.</g></g></g></g></g></g></g></b> <i>You are safe. Daddy is safe. It's mommy's job to keep you safe. Safe. Safe. Safe. </i><br />
<i><br /></i><b>4. Children's books with a message</b>. A couple of our absolute favorites are "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Invisible-String-Patrice-Karst/dp/0875167349/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1442413895&sr=8-1&keywords=the+invisible+string" target="_blank">The Invisible String</a>" (<i>"reminds children that they are never truly alone"</i>) and "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Will-Okay-Trusting-Through-Change/dp/140032419X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1442413816&sr=8-1&keywords=it+will+be+okay" target="_blank">It Will Be Okay</a>" (<i>"trusting God through fear and change"). </i><br />
<i><br /></i> <b>5. Develop a new bedtime routine. </b>Dave is very involved in Sylvie's bedtime routine. So we had to create a special one for when daddy is away. Thankfully, my parents have been able to help with the other kiddos while Sylvie and I rock and sing songs and apply her lotion. When she first came home, we used a bottle at bedtime to encourage bonding. She hasn't used one in many months. I decided to try one the other night and it instantly soothed her. There is something special that comes from allowing her to settle into the role of an infant, for just a little while, in order to release control and simply rest in her mama's arms.<br />
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<b>6. Take a break. </b>I met dear friends for a late dinner the other night after the kiddos were in bed. You guys. It was exactly what I needed. Laughter + good food + good wine = a happy mama. The end.<br />
<i><br /></i>And, the biggest of all: <b>PRAYER</b>. I often forget to just stop and pray. That first night after Dave left, I texted a few prayer warrior friends after several hours of attempting to soothe my hysterical little girl. The peace that settled into her heart and mine was undeniable. She finally was able to rest. The power of prayer is REAL.<br />
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What about you? I'd love to hear what works for your family during times of change or stress.<br />
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<img align="center" src="http://i1138.photobucket.com/albums/n522/dani6632/signature-7.png" style="border: 0;" /><br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04173221116118498902noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1653870502462485970.post-75318504746586289122015-09-11T19:59:00.004-07:002015-09-11T20:18:08.556-07:00When He asks you to move, you move. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo credit: Jason Lloyd</span></td></tr>
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<br />
Many times over the course of the past several years, Dave and I have found ourselves trusting God to work out the details as we blindly placed one foot in front of the other in faith. Often, we had no clue what He was up to, only that the call on our lives was undeniable.<br />
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<b>When He asks you to move, you move.</b><br />
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You may have doubts and be afraid of failing. You may think that you are silly for thinking <i>little-ole'-me</i> can make any difference at all. You may stall. But, eventually you pull up your big girl pants, put your head down, and DO THE WORK. {Let me be clear: it is work. You can't just walk into His calling on your life without a hefty dose of hard work}.<br />
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<a href="http://www.feedtheirtummies.org/" target="_blank">Feed Their Tummies</a> was founded with a step forward into the unknown. That first food delivery was simply a response to an urgent need for food. Nothing more. It was not strategic, there were no marketing plans in place or long-term goals established. Yet, in that response, He was working. He was revealing His heart - an abundant well of love for His children.<br />
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As the details came together- <i>the non-profit status, the partners on the ground, the provision </i>- we learned that God has graciously invited us into this work. None of this was happening because of us, our efforts were valuable yet not essential. Therefore, when we find ourselves caught up in <i>striving</i> or allowing <i>exhausting</i> <i>ambition </i>to creep in, we mercifully fall back on this freeing truth: <b><u>He is more than able to do this without us</u>.</b> We can open our hands and release it all to Him.<br />
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<b>He's got this.</b><br />
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When doubt was at an all-time high last year, God clearly revealed His desire for us to keep stepping forward. As we earnestly prayed for discernment, <a href="http://www.blessingsandraindrops.com/2014/12/the-bentonville-sessions.html" target="_blank">JD, a stranger at the time, was preparing to launch a concert series in our town</a> and asked if Feed Their Tummies would accept the proceeds. JD was entirely unaware of our pleas for provision and wisdom, of our asking "<i>should we keep doing this</i>?"<br />
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God's answer was a resounding, "<i>yes, keep pressing on."</i><br />
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His plans are bigger than we could have imagined at the time. Now, in large part because of that little concert series {since named <a href="http://citysessions.org/bentonville/" target="_blank">The Bentonville Sessions</a>}, we are feeding nearly 200 children three nutritous meals a day, every single day. That stranger and his sweet wife, Julia, are now dear friends who work alongside us each month to raise funds and advocate for these children across the globe.<br />
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As I type, JD is traveling with Dave across the Atlantic in order to finally meet the children this work benefits.<br />
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Also along on this trip is Lamar Stockton. Lamar serves as the International Operations Director for <a href="https://www.helponenow.org/" target="_blank">Help One Now</a>, an organization Dave and I greatly admire. Lamar and <a href="http://chrismarlow.me/" target="_blank">Chris Marlow</a>, Help One Now's founder, have become valued mentors and friends. Over the course of this past year, long discussions concerning how to care well for the vulnerable, how to empower local leaders and how to transform communities have taken place.<br />
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These discussions have laid the foundation for this trip. <b>Feed Their Tummies and Help One Now have dreamt and planned together about joining forces to do good in Congo</b>.<br />
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You guys. The depth of answered prayers here are beyond my ability to articulate.<br />
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When we first stepped foot on that Congolese soil together, Dave and I knew our lives were forever changed. We knew we would make it our life's work to serve the people of this beautiful country, particularly her children.<br />
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We absolutely believe the impact of our work will be far greater by doing this together with the Help One Now team. And, we are so fortunate to already be working with a strong and capable local Congolese partner, <a href="http://mwangazaint.org/" target="_blank">Mwangaza International</a>. This trip is the first step into understanding what it is that we are all being called to do <i>together</i>.<br />
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Although this is not easy and the unknowns can easily evoke fear (we really have NO idea where any of this will lead), <b><u>this work is worth it</u></b>.<br />
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It is worth all of the sacrifices.<br />
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It is worth the headaches.<br />
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It is worth facing fear in the face and telling it to stand down.<br />
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Simply because <b><i>they</i></b> are worth it. The precious ones we serve. The ones I see each time I look into the eyes of my daughter. She too was once abandoned and alone, shared beginnings, rooted in the deep ache of this broken world.<br />
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We can't look away.<br />
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We have to step into the hard, we have to move forward in our small role, desiring restoration and hope.<br />
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<b>Follow along on this journey as we share stories of hope, struggle and progress...</b><br />
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<b>Follow Lamar on Instagram <a href="https://instagram.com/lamarstockton/" target="_blank">HERE</a>.</b><br />
<b>Follow me on Instagram <a href="https://instagram.com/jennymarrs/" target="_blank">HERE</a> </b>(Dave doesn't "do" social media, I'll be sharing his images and stories as he sends them my way).<br />
<b>Follow Feed Their Tummies on Facebook <a href="https://www.facebook.com/feedtheirtummies" target="_blank">HERE</a>.</b><br />
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Join us in praying for their time in country. Prayers for the Holy Spirit's guidance and protection are very much appreciated. If you could also pray for the hearts of my babies, I would be so very grateful. Sylvie, in particular, is having a hard time understanding this trip. Her little heart is aching...she is missing her daddy and this trip to "Africa" has evoked strong emotions of confusion and fear and grief in her little heart.<br />
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I am so expectant of what God is up to. Good things are in store, friends. I can't wait to share more.<br />
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<img align="center" src="http://i1138.photobucket.com/albums/n522/dani6632/signature-7.png" style="border: 0;" /><br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04173221116118498902noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1653870502462485970.post-89954176378153237802015-09-08T06:35:00.000-07:002015-09-08T06:48:12.288-07:00a space for guests. {farmhouse tour}.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Our lil' farmhouse barely contains the six of us, much less room for guests. When we moved in, we added a double bed to the playroom loft space and crammed my parents up there whenever they visited. Needless to say, a guest room was fairly high on our wish list. </div>
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When we added <a href="http://www.blessingsandraindrops.com/2014/10/the-everyday-crazy-farmhouse-renovation.html" target="_blank">a garage to the house last fall</a>, we included an apartment above for guests. </div>
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My parents are currently driving here (!!) and will be calling this little space home for a bit. In honor of our house guests being en route, I figured I'd give y'all a tour of our guest space...</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: left;">I love the antique dresser in this bathroom. It was painted and restored by the very talented Maegan at </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/Audreymaesfarmhousw?fref=ts" style="font-size: medium; text-align: left;" target="_blank">Audrey Mae's Farmhouse</a><span style="font-size: small; text-align: left;">.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPRJdScE1Z5HgaaIn9lJ0ew72deD7T-OXw42om2rxIdGvLV4fW-hsPpsw12QtfjUw3l5aWHMT4XQawi_qsa8RJn5by6tU2SEeSRnaAkbuuq23Ns-lAbbwEN_xovUWlZJ0K4sTohxBNKv2v/s1600/DSC_6612.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPRJdScE1Z5HgaaIn9lJ0ew72deD7T-OXw42om2rxIdGvLV4fW-hsPpsw12QtfjUw3l5aWHMT4XQawi_qsa8RJn5by6tU2SEeSRnaAkbuuq23Ns-lAbbwEN_xovUWlZJ0K4sTohxBNKv2v/s640/DSC_6612.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">I'm so, so glad we have hydrangeas in our yard. They are my favorite. </span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjYN8xqowjYbjsWQJAt4-SOnqD0opcaXj8zkRlalXpZ8hrn8xFFiYx31eIj_xDPtpVKyeY1q4QYgQP3yfKPXFnnW7bRrKSc3eVHopIlzWXJvaC23pDG8a9h-2yJVNLPZADSOIi0lQY6T_t/s1600/DSC_6617.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjYN8xqowjYbjsWQJAt4-SOnqD0opcaXj8zkRlalXpZ8hrn8xFFiYx31eIj_xDPtpVKyeY1q4QYgQP3yfKPXFnnW7bRrKSc3eVHopIlzWXJvaC23pDG8a9h-2yJVNLPZADSOIi0lQY6T_t/s640/DSC_6617.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: start;">Apparently, Charlotte did not want Nathan on the freshly made bed. :)</span></td></tr>
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The living room still leaves much to be desired... I need curtains and accent chairs and such. Yet, for the most part, I've used furniture we already have and I just haven't had a chance to shop around for additional furniture for this space. I like to take my time and find the perfect piece instead of just throwing something in there to fill the room. It works just fine for now.<br />
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The chickadees love the little play nook...<br />
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That's it! Thanks for coming along for a tour. Have a great week!</div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04173221116118498902noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1653870502462485970.post-69795591785633164952015-09-04T13:59:00.002-07:002015-09-04T14:36:48.908-07:00La Dolce Vita!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqbh3sXhpBI0OWOMwfqOmdQDLPEe3JRmLUxQ4tIYH38NuccdQOBK0u4Z37ZB1ulJ3_H8_AnAubfM-f8Q9qS1LSeoU0omqI4kV_KT_w_wSExlowPol2bOIktVV2ZJLv0nUy3DV0iVort6lL/s1600/1935959_1185139873219_7906847_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqbh3sXhpBI0OWOMwfqOmdQDLPEe3JRmLUxQ4tIYH38NuccdQOBK0u4Z37ZB1ulJ3_H8_AnAubfM-f8Q9qS1LSeoU0omqI4kV_KT_w_wSExlowPol2bOIktVV2ZJLv0nUy3DV0iVort6lL/s640/1935959_1185139873219_7906847_n.jpg" width="424"></a></div>
<br>
You guys. Dave has this reward program set up with his lumber supplier (point of clarification: he builds homes) and the offerings are completely random and somewhat all encompassing. We actually "bought" the computer I'm typing on with rewards. Anyhoo, on a crazy-off-the-wall-whackado chance, I sent a "special request" for flights to Italy.<br>
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Oh my gosh. Who does that?<br>
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While we're at it, who goes for a walk with their chickadees and gets a call from the reward travel agent and BOOKS A FLIGHT TO ITALY as they just push a stroller casually along?!?<br>
<b><br></b>
<b>This girl. </b><br>
That's who.<br>
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Italy is quite possibly my favorite place on earth. Yes, the entire country.<br>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsbdwpF2loFFw5cfQUUDnxDvcy0VzZDyUVZsyV2PRfgp393D051wTRHNblxrhyphenhyphenJnyGCneOxaHYZ65V5ge6U4DseUmBgeOPBoieJ6HxvlmY1I0hLJo4Pb-Efd24Dk93d7zOFhvXlZyWLAdw/s1600/Italy+food.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsbdwpF2loFFw5cfQUUDnxDvcy0VzZDyUVZsyV2PRfgp393D051wTRHNblxrhyphenhyphenJnyGCneOxaHYZ65V5ge6U4DseUmBgeOPBoieJ6HxvlmY1I0hLJo4Pb-Efd24Dk93d7zOFhvXlZyWLAdw/s640/Italy+food.jpg" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>THE FOOD! THE WINE! THE GELATO!</i></span></td></tr>
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We had dreamt of going for our 10th anniversary, but, <i>babies</i>. So, the 11th it is!<br>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Look at those crazy kids! They BELONG in Italia...</span></td></tr>
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I am already searching through the piles in my closet to dust off my old Rosetta Stone Italian disks so that I can {<i>terribly</i>} pretend to speak the gorgeous language. I am obnoxious right now. I have called Dave no less than 25 times in the past hour to remind him that we are actually going back to ITALY. As my friend Chandra would say,<i> bless his bones</i>. He is going to have to deal with my insanity for the next 7ish months.<br>
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Eeee! So, I had to share this fun news because I CANNOT. CONTAIN. MY. EXCITEMENT. <br>
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Be warned: an onslaught of obnoxious trip planning posts are surely to come.<br>
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Happy Labor day weekend, friends! Rest, jump in the lake, laugh and sit around the table with your people. Soak it up. {Oh. And<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">, Fall? Bring it. I'm ready}.</span><div>
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</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04173221116118498902noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1653870502462485970.post-85259258592940749472015-08-31T10:06:00.001-07:002015-08-31T10:06:19.886-07:00real community.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Sunday nights have been set aside. We have stumbled through two years of finding sitters, preparing meals, and rushing {the Marrs' are perpetually running late, it's our thing} to show up by 5 o'clock.<br />
<br />
Each week, one of us opens our home and the others arrive bearing salad or bread or brownies. The kitchen becomes a flurry of activity and lighthearted chatter as we work around one another reaching for plates, stirring pots of soup, or pouring drinks. We share a meal while catching up on the new home or the teething baby or the teen going off to college in a few weeks.<br />
<br />
These evenings have become sacred. We have walked through the storms of life together, we have celebrated together, we have prayed mightily for one another. Within the safety of four walls and these people, tender stories have been shared. We have laughed and cried and sang and rejoiced. These evenings can't be manufactured. The deep well of friendship that exists among these people, <i>my people</i>, is as real as anything I've ever experienced.<br />
<i><b><br /></b></i>
<i><b>This is a portion of a guest post written for AWB. Hop on over to<a href="http://arkansaswomenbloggers.com/real-community/" target="_blank"> the Arkansas Women Bloggers' site</a> in order to read this post in it's entirely. </b></i><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04173221116118498902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1653870502462485970.post-9199223595464981652015-08-26T08:30:00.000-07:002015-08-26T11:13:38.990-07:00lately.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I've been quiet around here lately. Words floated around in my head without ever reaching the keyboard. Days slowly turned into weeks and, it turns out, I found a bit of freedom from not powering up this old laptop.<br>
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I had to step away from this space to figure out what I was doing here. This blog started as a chronicle of our adoption journey. Since, it's become somewhat of a family journal {I <i>adore </i>looking back at old posts to see what we were up to at a particular point in time} and even a community of sorts. A gathering of people seeking joy and grace when the deafening clanging of this world becomes too much for our heads and our hearts.<br>
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I love this space and each one of you who read the words here. I think I'll just continue writing and recording our moments. I realized that I tend to overcomplicate things, this little online space included. It's simple really - I want this to be a space that my children can read through and understand the heart of their mama. I want my grown babies to know that they have always been treasured and loved fiercely. I want them to know how much their mama values their daddy and this family. I want them to know that their mama battles fear with faith and fights for justice for the ones who can't. <b>I want them to know that our days are full of laughter and dance parties and joy, all of the good stuff right alongside the fights and tears and brokenness. </b><br>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>... And, I should add, cranky faces. :)</i></span></td></tr>
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I felt a little nudge this morning to sit and type. There is just so much to share from this past month...<br>
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The routines of kindergarten...<i>packing lunches, early mornings, drop-off, car line, un-packing lunches, homework, folders, worksheets</i> {so many worksheets and papers!}... have filled our days lately. We are starting to get the hang of this new rhythm of ours. The boys are thriving at school {Nathan was even chosen to be a school "ambassador" based on his kind behavior - I could not possibly be more proud}. Weekends are for rest and memory making and laughter. Those precious forty-eight hours have become even more valuable.<br>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sylvie absolutely LOVES fishing. Can you tell??!!?</span></td></tr>
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We have a new puppy. Did I tell y'all this? She is adorable and chews on everything. Her name is Maddie. She and her two brothers were dumped at the end of our little dirt road. Our neighbors found them while out on a walk. We couldn't say no to her sad eyes and now she is our wild, clumsy, hilarious little gal. Go big or go home: four kids, three dogs, 15 chickens, and three goats {our cat has disowned us and has taken up residence at the neighbor's. It may have something to do with the aforementioned three dogs}.<br>
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Oh, yes. And, my parents are moving here. You guys. This is the most insane news ever. Ever. I will have to share more about this soon. It's a crazy story and still doesn't quite feel real.<br>
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I've been knee-deep in planning an upcoming trip for Dave and a team to visit our kiddos in Congo {clarify: we are not adopting again, I am referring to the children we love in <a href="http://www.feedtheirtummies.org/" target="_blank">our feeding program</a>}. We are also preparing to launch a new season of the <a href="http://citysessions.org/bentonville/" target="_blank">Bentonville Sessions</a> next month {local friends, please plan to join us!}. This work has been somewhat all-consuming. I do not have enough hours in the day. Yet, I have made a conscious effort to put away all work after school hours. That time is spent focused on my people.<br>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">I have this girl all by her lonesome two FULL days a week now that school has started. I've never had one baby before. This is ah-mazing. One baby at a time? Highly recommend it. :)</span></td></tr>
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With that, I'm off to straighten up the house in preparation for our post placement visit with our social worker. One more visit after this one and then we are done. I can't believe it. We have been meeting with our sweet social worker for almost four years. It will be strange not having her drop by our home anymore.<br>
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Happiest of Wednesdays to you all, friends.<br>
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<br>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04173221116118498902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1653870502462485970.post-91934495757158124492015-08-17T19:05:00.003-07:002015-08-26T08:38:54.053-07:00Permission to Shine. {Guest Post on AWB}<br />
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<b>We all have a unique voice. We all have a noteworthy story to tell.</b> Yet, somewhere in all of the noise of this world, our story is often pushed aside. Our voice muffled.<br />
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There are countless blogs and storytellers out there. I don't know about any of you but I often fear insignificance in this space. I believe we all want our words to matter. We all desire to make a difference within our sphere of influence.<br />
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And, the beautiful, hope-restoring, simple truth is this: <b>we all matter</b>.<br />
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We each have distinct gifts and there is room enough for us all. When one of us succeeds, we can cheer her on knowing that her success does not take away from our own. We can lift one another up without fearing our own demise. We can be vulnerable and brave. We can hit publish and send our words out into the world.<br />
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<i><a href="http://arkansaswomenbloggers.com/permission-shine/" target="_blank"><b>Read this post in it's entirety over at Arkansas Women Blogger's site.</b></a></i><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04173221116118498902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1653870502462485970.post-11025570928609786142015-08-10T11:38:00.004-07:002015-08-26T08:39:14.939-07:00when your well runs dry. {Guest Post on AWB}There are seasons when schedules are packed and laundry is piled high and to-do lists continually multiply regardless of the effort exerted to check off tasks.<br />
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In these seasons, work feels uninspired and overwhelming.<br />
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Copious amounts of coffee are consumed. Self-care is buried under responsibilities. Exhaustion settles in like a morning fog, desiring rest in order to lift.<br />
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<i>Read this post in it's entirety over at <a href="http://arkansaswomenbloggers.com/well-runs-dry-blogger-month/" target="_blank">Arkansas Women Bloggers</a> today. I'm honored to be their guest blogger this month and am sharing today about the importance of <span style="font-weight: bold;">intentionally seeking gratitude. </span></i><br />
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<b><a href="http://arkansaswomenbloggers.com/well-runs-dry-blogger-month/" target="_blank">Come on over and join in the conversation. </a></b><br />
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Happy Monday, friends!<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04173221116118498902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1653870502462485970.post-33991554822005145242015-08-05T15:29:00.000-07:002015-08-05T15:29:12.226-07:00Ethiopia Creative Trip {Guest Post}I fell in love with the country, the people and the culture of Ethiopia<a href="http://www.blessingsandraindrops.com/2012/03/146-million-minus-1.html" target="_blank"> years ago</a>, without ever stepping foot on the soil of this beautiful land <i>{I hope to go next summer but that's another story for another time}</i>.<br />
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Today, I want to introduce you to a friend who has faithfully served in Ethiopia and continues to use her gifts and talents to advocate for the vulnerable children and families there. <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Alyssa-Anne-Photography/145308550456?pnref=lhc" target="_blank">Alyssa</a> is looking for fellow creatives ready to serve in a unique way on her upcoming <b>Ethiopia Creative Trip</b> for One Child Campaign. Read her post below for all of the details and prayerfully consider joining her on this life-changing trip. I can't wait to follow along on this journey!<br />
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I've watched medics go on medical trip or teachers go to work with students and secretly wished I possessed a "useful" skill that I could contribute. As I traveled with <a href="http://onechildcampaign.showitsite.com/" rel="nofollow" shape="rect" style="color: #196ad4; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px;" target="_blank">One Child Campaign</a> and did <a href="http://alyssaannephotography.com/stories/" rel="nofollow" shape="rect" style="color: #196ad4; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px;" target="_blank">humanitarian photography</a>, I simply thought of it as a tool I could use to advocate.
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Then one day, in the middle of yoga class of all places, enough blood had flowed to my brain for me to have an epiphany. The photos were ending up in my hands; and unless a ministry specifically contact me to use them, that's where they stayed. While I may be able to make a small difference by using them, how much more could be done if the photos were tailored to the needs of the ministry and then given to them to use for advocating and fundraising?!<br />
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One Child Campaign was all over the idea and has asked me to lead <i>Ethiopia: Creative 2016 trip from February 12-22</i>. <b>We are in need of videographers, writers, web designers, and photographers. </b>We want to gather team of artists who want to learn how to hone their skills in the area of humanitarianism while also creating beautiful content and telling stories for partner organizations of One Child Campaign, while engaging their areas of influence to be a part of the solution.nDuring this trip we will be traveling to Addis Ababa and Awassa and coming alongside four different organizations that have my mad respect for their work with street kids, poverty, at risk families and women, and child trafficking. We will be providing them with tools and art to use for their websites and social media. <br />
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But hear me on this- whether or not this is up your alley, YOU have skills and talents. Pray, seek, and ask our multi-faceted God how He can connect your passions and His work. <br />
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If you are interested in more information on this trip, please contact me at <a href="mailto:alyssa@alyssaannephotography.com" rel="nofollow" shape="rect" style="color: #196ad4; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px;" target="_blank" ymailto="mailto:alyssa@alyssaannephotography.com">alyssa@alyssaannephotography.com</a><br />
<a href="mailto:alyssa@alyssaannephotography.com" rel="nofollow" shape="rect" style="color: #196ad4; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px;" target="_blank" ymailto="mailto:alyssa@alyssaannephotography.com"><br /></a>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04173221116118498902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1653870502462485970.post-68425148413089374702015-08-04T08:26:00.001-07:002015-08-04T09:04:15.012-07:00a big day. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Y'all. They were <i>babies</i>. Oh my heart. </div>
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Fast forward to <i>yesterday</i>... my <b>Kindergarteners</b>!!!!!!!!!!! Holy smokes. It really happened.</div>
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Nate. Oh, this boy was excited. His enthusiasm was literally contagious.<br />
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He confidently walked right in to his room and started chatting with his classmates. He was ready for this day and my instinct to scoop him up and carry him back home dissipated when I saw him in the classroom - he was in his element.<br />
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On the way to school, Nate said a prayer: "<i>God let us have an awesome day and help us to be kind and nice today at school. Amen</i>." That boy. He has my heart.<br />
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Random side note: I don't know what's happening with Ben's smile lately. The concept of "smile naturally!" is lost on him these days. {See left photo below for evidence}.</div>
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Ben was a characteristically shy and reserved yet he walked right in, put his backpack and lunchbox in his cubby and then found his seat. He gave me multiple hugs and kisses and then said he was ready. My momma heart burst with pride and love and sorrow and excitement all at once. After I walked out the door to join Dave and the girls waiting in the hall, Ben ran back out to give us all another hug and kiss. Oh, that boy. Sweetness all wrapped up in an adorable, silly smiling package. </div>
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As we walked to the car, the tears came. It hit me: this is it. This is what we do as parents: we prepare them as best we can, we encourage their hearts, we soak up the moments, and then we send them off into the world.<br />
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After bringing Sylvie to pre-school, I spent the morning with other moms from our school having brunch at a friend's house. It was a sweet start to the day {and an awesome distraction}. Then, Charlotte and I came home and had a calm, quiet, super fun day together. This was my first day alone with Charlotte in a long time. ONE child. All day long. Glory!<br />
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By 2:30, I was anxious to pick the boys up and hear all about their first day. After enduring my first experience with the dreaded<i> car line, </i>I finally made it to the front and saw my little guys running toward me with broad smiles shouting out, "mama!" They both starting talking at once, excitedly telling me all about their day. RELIEF washed over me. They both had a "great" day and "love" their teachers.<br />
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Favorite part of the day?<br />
Ben: "<i>seeing Nate in the hall and on the playground!</i>"<br />
Nate: "<i>seeing Ben in the hall and on the playground!</i>"<br />
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Well, there you go.<br />
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I'm thankful that they loved their time in separate classes. I was so worried about the fact that they <a href="http://www.blessingsandraindrops.com/2015/07/as-new-season-approaches.html" target="_blank">would be apart for the first time</a>. If this one day is an indicator, they will thrive {and appreciate their time together even more}!<br />
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We came home and celebrated an awesome day with chocolate chip cookies and Sonic slushes. Smiles all around.<br />
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I walked them to their classrooms again this morning and loved seeing their confidence as they entered. Ben did hesitate briefly at the door when he realized he didn't say goodbye to Nathan. We walked across the hall to Nathan's classroom and caught his attention as he was placing his backpack on it's hook. Nate ran over and gave Ben a huge hug. They both said "bye, buddy!" and "I love you!" Obviously, I melted. I love these two guys with everything I am.<br />
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Kindergarten, we like you. A lot. Well done.<br />
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<img align="center" src="http://i1138.photobucket.com/albums/n522/dani6632/signature-7.png" style="border: 0;" /><br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04173221116118498902noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1653870502462485970.post-4360222012174010472015-08-01T12:25:00.002-07:002015-08-01T12:33:23.975-07:00be free. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Lately, I've had a heavy cloak weighing me down.<br />
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As God has been opening doors and revealing more of His plans for my life in recent months, my autopilot response has been fear and insecurity. I literally sat in a meeting listening to someone whom I respect greatly share amazing, <i>amazing</i> plans for the work we hope to accomplish together {I can't wait to share more with y'all...sorry for being vague, there are a bunch of details to work through first} and instead of excitement rising up, I pressed heavily into fear.<br />
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<i>Fear of falling short. Fear of letting everyone down. Fear of inadequacy. Fear of failure. </i><br />
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Honestly, I suppressed all of these fears fairly well. I carried on with my life and pushed the fears to the background. It became a white noise within my day to day routine. Not debilitating, yet present. Ever-present. And, exhausting.<br />
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Do you know what I've learned? <b>It is EXHAUSTING to think God's work actually depends on my performance.</b> {And, yes, when I write that out I can see how ridiculous that line of thinking really is}.<br />
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Last weekend, I spent some time away from daily life. I was holed up in a cabin in the woods with some of my absolute favorite people. My people. They push past the surface. Our conversations are full of transparency, brokenness, authenticity, deep questioning, laughter, joy, and tears. They broke through the layers I had worked hard to build. Those shaky layers of self-sufficiency, strength and confidence. With a simple question, I suddenly started spilling it all out. All of the fear, the insecurity, and the doubt came out in the form of a sobbing, messy, confession. I would have been humiliated if this hadn't been such a safe place to lay it all down.<br />
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Oh, friends. We all need a safe place. Instead of carrying that burden any longer, I let it go. I relinquished my fear and instead soaked up the words of Truth that these dear friends spoke over me. The cloak was destroyed. My <a href="http://biblehub.com/matthew/11-30.htm" target="_blank">burden was light</a>.<br />
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Once I returned home, I felt a nudge to retrieve an old journal from the back of a drawer stacked full of similar old journals. I know the Holy Spirit was leading because I couldn't remember what was written in any of these journals off hand yet I was led to that specific one.<br />
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I turned the pages and landed on my notes from <a href="http://rebekahlyons.com/" target="_blank">Rebekah Lyons</a> teaching during last year's IF: Gathering. The words jumped off the page and spoke directly to my soul.<br />
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<b>"<i>As we let our own light shine, we give others permission to do the same</i>."</b></div>
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The lie I had believed: <i>my light isn't good enough to shine. Others are doing such an awesome job of shining; they should continue to do so. I really have nothing to add. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<b>Truth<i>: "When He knit you, He gave you distinct birthright gifts. There's room enough for everyone! No need to compare - we are ALL unique and we can all live out our gifts."</i></b><br />
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Lie<i>: </i><i>Keep score. You need to know that you matter. </i><br />
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<b>Truth<i>: "</i><i>You can be in your calling and still not be free. </i><i>If you do what you do for an audience of ONE, you'll always matter." </i></b><br />
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Lie: <i>confirmation from the world is going to heal.</i><br />
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<b>Truth: "<i>The fall may be all around you but the fall is not in you. Christ is in you. You are FREE. Now, go and be who you already are."</i></b><br />
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<i>"Heal my heart for good. Make my heart new, not just mended but actually <u><b>new</b></u>. </i></div>
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<i>Create in me a heart that prays bold prayers and believes bold things. </i></div>
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<i>In the Mighty Name of Jesus, I pray. Amen."</i></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #76a5af;">And I will give you a new heart with new and right desires, and I will put a new spirit in you. I will take out your stony heart of sin and give you a new, obedient heart. And I will put my spirit in you so you will obey my laws and do whatever I command. {Ezekiel 36: 26-27}</span></div>
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<i><a href="http://rebekahlyons.com/confession-for-the-church-2015/" target="_blank">Read the transcript from Rebekah's reading at IF: Gathering here.</a> </i><br />
<i><a href="http://rebekahlyons.com/in-the-wake-of-a-roar/" target="_blank">Read Rebekah's full prayer from her talk at IF: Gathering here. </a></i><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04173221116118498902noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1653870502462485970.post-71350124121004005712015-07-23T06:46:00.001-07:002015-08-04T09:01:39.299-07:00as a new season approaches...They ran excitedly up and down the aisles shouting back and forth, "Ben! Look at this one!" and "Nate, I'm getting the blue one!" as we piled the cart high with supplies from our checklist. Markers and glue sticks and crayons. Check, check, check.<br />
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New lunch boxes were the most exciting purchase. The ones that were given as gifts on their 2nd birthday have made the rounds to picnics and playdates and preschool. The stickers inside from the days of stickers-on-everything! are half rubbed off. New ones were in order. The adorable monogrammed sharks and fish replaced with "big boy" camo.<br />
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Aunt Angie had given each of the the boys a Star Wars backpack filled to the brim with books for their birthday. Nate loved that it was a "big boy backpack" and decreed it would go on to school with him. Yet, last night, Ben stood in front of a minion backpack with large eyes that poked out to create pockets and asked if this one could be his. I couldn't say no. It was cartoonish and child-like. If he wanted anything that kept him small for just a minute longer, I would have said yes.<br />
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As I tucked them in last night, I saw it clearly. The last remnants of my babies had gone. Arms and legs had lengthened and jetted out in all directions, filling their twin beds. Beds that once seemed so big, too big, to hold them. Faces that were once round and chubby, have changed. Slowly transformed into the faces of boys, no longer toddlers or preschoolers. Blankets that once covered all the way to the toes, now held in the hands for comfort, only reaching slightly past the torso. "Babies" once held within clenched fists as he drifted off to sleep, now strewn about the bed in slight disregard.<br />
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Friends assure me that kindergarten will be such fun. They will love it. I will love it. It will be a year of learning and new friends and joy. I don't doubt this to be true.<br />
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Yet, I know that in eleven days, they will cross over an invisible line as they walk through the doors of their new classrooms. They will no longer be "BenNate," my inseparable little guys. They will be in separate classrooms, meeting separate friends, creating separate memories. Since their time together in the womb, they have hardly ever been apart. By choice. They are the best of friends. Their bond is unique and steadfast. They find confidence in the others presence and can happily work independently, knowing the other is near.<br />
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They will also go from being by my side 99% of the time to spending the majority of their days in this new place. They will grow and transform and change in new ways. They will learn new things and explore new places. Without me. I will have peeks into their world when I come to help in the classroom or when I join them for lunch occasionally, yet, I will not be <i>in</i> this world of theirs.<br />
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These five years have passed in a blink. They have been the most frenzied, exhausting, hilarious, surprising, fun and joy-soaked of my life. What an honor it is to be the momma to these boys of mine.<br />
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As we prepare to walk into a new season, I'm intentionally filling their love tanks full to overflowing. I am soaking in each moment. Holding them close. We are seeking adventure together.<br />
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When I send them into this new world of theirs, I want them to know that they are loved and valued and known. I want them to overflow with kindness to others. I want their hearts to be secure in Truth. My prayers will surround them and go before them.<br />
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They've slept in this morning. Now, I'm hearing footsteps coming down the stairs. The computer is closing for another day intentionally focused on being present and creating memories. We need to wash jars and prepare dough for the first honey harvest of the season tonight. :)<br />
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Go on and have an adventure-filled Thursday, sweet friends.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04173221116118498902noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1653870502462485970.post-68565485935377384542015-07-12T05:14:00.003-07:002015-07-12T05:15:20.560-07:00rest.<div style="text-align: left;">
We stepped away. Cell phones are without service, work is set aside, the noise of this world feels distant. As the fog drifts over the mountains in our view, rest is slowly, quietly, seeping in. </div>
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<span class="versenum" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">28-30 </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;">“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;">{Matthew 11:28-30 MSG}</span></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04173221116118498902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1653870502462485970.post-47336993385054241142015-07-08T10:03:00.000-07:002015-07-08T10:11:20.357-07:00Reflections: one year ago. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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One year ago today, I wrote my all-time favorite post: <b><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.blessingsandraindrops.com/2014/07/he-is-faithful.html" target="_blank">He is FAITHFUL</a>. </span></b><br />
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<br />
I was finally able to share our Sylvie-girl's photo because <b>she was on a plane coming home to our family{!!!}</b>. I still get goosebumps when I read the words and think back on that day.<br />
<br />
The miracles that unfolded to bring her home still cause me to stand in awe. Bear with me while I try to record the events that led to this amazing day {long post warning!}...<br />
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Because Sylvie already held an approved medical visa from USCIS, we had met with the ambassador at the US Embassy in Kinshasa multiple times to <strike>ask</strike> beg for his help in acquiring a medical exit permit for our girl. Our congressional office, senators, even other US ambassadors were advocating for our case. We had letters from specialists here in the US and in the DRC stating the need for Sylvie to be allowed to leave the country for medical reasons. <br />
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We had been turned away from the embassy each time we requested help. We were so very weary. Until, one of my dear friends {who lives about 20 minutes away} received the first medical exit permit since the beginning of the suspension in early June. Once again, we frantically started calling and emailing anyone and everyone who could possibly help. We were asking the ambassador to advocate for our girl. We received an email stating that he would help in mid-June and I thought my heart would burst. Hope was restored.<br />
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We rushed to get new medical check-ups and additional letters from specialists and have them all translated and submitted for immediate review by DGM. DGM agreed to review our case which was HUGE. We were guarding our hearts, preparing to be rejected by DGM. They reviewed the documents and asked for our dossier to be submitted immediately. Our agency liaison had all of our documents and refused to turn them in until we paid our final agency fee {which would have normally been paid when we traveled to bring her home}. The wiring process would stall us by several days. After much back and forth and many, many tears on my end, our agency agreed to release the documents once we provided proof of the transfer {we had to wire the money to the agency and then they would wire to DRC}. The documents were released to Sylvie's foster mom and our dear friend, Dr. Laure. She submitted everything to DGM for us.<br />
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At this point, we were trying to decide if Dave should go to DRC. It seemed like he should be there to ensure everything went smoothly and documents were all where they should be. However, we clearly heard from God: <b>wait</b>. Honestly, that didn't make a whole lot of sense but I was thankful he wasn't leaving because we had a newborn {Charlotte was about 4 weeks old at the time} and I had no idea how long he would be gone.<br />
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We assumed Dave's travel visa was still valid, as he had visited in February and had a 6 month visa. We felt confident that he could leave as soon as we heard word that it was time.<br />
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Weeks passed without word. I was walking in a fog. I hardly slept. I clung to my phone, praying that it would ring or an email update would come through. Instead I was met with silence. I wrote <a href="http://www.blessingsandraindrops.com/2014/07/when-hope-feels-losthes-right-there.html" target="_blank">these words </a>just days before we finally heard news.:<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"<span style="background-color: white; color: #7f7f7f; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I suddenly realized I wasn't staying sane. I wasn't keeping it together... instead, what I was doing was letting go of hope. Over the past week or so, I've let go of believing that the latest news could actually mean our daughter will come home sometime soon.</span> </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #7f7f7f; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">You see, about three weeks ago, we received some really good news and I was so hopeful, </span><i style="background-color: white; color: #7f7f7f; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">so</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #7f7f7f; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> sure, that this was finally it that I started planning logistics for her homecoming. And, then, nothing. No news. No updates. Just waiting... in silence."</span></blockquote>
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My heart was so very weary.<br />
<br />
Meanwhile, in DRC, another adoptive momma was living with her daughter awaiting news of a medical exit, as well. We connected and prayed fervently for both of our girls. She kept me updated from Kinshasa and I let her know of any news from my end. She went to DGM daily, waiting on word.<br />
<br />
We both heard news from our contacts that the director of DGM would be reviewing our files on Saturday, July 5th. To say that I was a nervous wreck is the understatement of the century.<br />
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Dave considered leaving right away. Yet, we learned that his visa was actually expired. He submitted a request for a new travel visa. I was devastated. I never believed DGM would issue an exit permit if the parents weren't in country.<br />
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I was up all night waiting on word. I texted back and forth with the momma in country. She went to DGM's office to wait. Laure went to wait on our behalf.<br />
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A text came through early that morning. It was my friend asking where Laure was. "She is there at the office!" I frantically answered. My friend couldn't find her anywhere. She was texting me from the associate director's office. He had told her that this was the last day they would issue any medical exits. The two files on his desk were hers and ours. He had asked if she knew a "Jennifer Marrs." That's when she texted me.<br />
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Come to find out, they needed Sylvie's passport number. I emailed it to him and kept trying to contact Laure. Her phone didn't have service in the office and she didn't get any of my messages.<br />
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Finally, she went outside and saw all of my emails and voicemails. She went back in to find my friend and was led to meet with the director of DGM. He questioned her again about our case {as she is a physician and had been treating Sylvie for nearly two years}.<br />
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Meanwhile, back at home, our beloved dog had gone missing. A neighbor found him a few miles from our house - he had been hit by a car. We rushed to the emergency vet. I was an emotional basket case. Right as the vet came out to tell me of the internal bleeding, my phone rang with a Kinshasa phone number. My hands shook as I answered. Laure gave me the news, "She was approved. She is coming home!"<br />
<br />
I was in disbelief. I looked at the vet waiting for my decision regarding Bailey. Tears streamed down my cheeks.<br />
<br />
I asked Laure if she had the letter in hand and she said no. It would be ready to pick up on Monday. I felt ill. I knew that things could change in two days. This letter could go "missing" ... there was no guarantee that she was really coming home at this point.<br />
<br />
I hung up and walked inside to say goodbye to my faithful friend of twelve years. Nothing else mattered in that moment. I was heartbroken. I didn't believe that Sylvie would really come home. It was a dark day.<br />
<br />
During the talks with DGM, we requested that Laure be given permission to escort Sylvie home. Because we were still waiting on Dave's visa, we weren't able to travel right away. We knew the request was a long shot. We waited and prayed. We were emotionally exhausted.<br />
<br />
Monday morning, I woke up the most incredible email I have ever received:<br />
<br />
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I ran to the kitchen where Dave was working on his computer {neither of us could sleep} to show him the email. I was sobbing, <i>sobbing</i>, on the floor. I just kept saying over and over: "it's over! it's over!" She was really coming home.<br />
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I called Laure and found out that she was back at the DGM office picking up Sylvie's exit permit along with her own! She was given permission to escort Sylvie home. I was blown away. Completely in awe.<br />
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We quickly booked flights. They would leave the next day. This was the first plane ride for both Laure and Sylvie and they had only 24 hours to prepare. My heart was elated and hurting. I knew Sylvie would board that plane and leave behind everything and everyone she had ever known. Her world was going to forever change.<br />
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I was {and this is a theme...} a nervous wreck throughout their travels home. I tracked their planes on my phone and prayed fervently. I was shocked to receive a phone call during their layover in Brussels from another adoptive momma whom I had never met. She told me that she met Sylvie and Laure and would be traveling back with them. She took photos and sent them to me. She gave me the most beautiful update on Sylvie. I was once again in tears. God is so good. He took care of every detail, even to the point of keeping my nervous momma heart updated with photos. Amazing.<br />
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<br />
Laure and Sylvie were held in customs for several hours. They were stuck in a room with a customs officer. We didn't know what was happening. They missed their connecting flight. Finally, the other adoptive momma traveling with them went in to the room and asked what was happening. She quickly realized that there was a misunderstanding. The officer didn't see the vaccination waiver in Sylvie's documents and was preventing her from entering the country because she did not have the proper vaccines. This other momma cleared everything up and got Laure and Sylvie to their gate {I had worked with the travel agent to rebook their flights}, and even bought Sylvie her very first American meal: McDonald's. :)<br />
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And, then, just like that, they arrived. <b>602 days of waiting. Over. </b><br />
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Our lives will never be the same. As hard as some days can be, we are blessed beyond measure. This girl has rocked our world in the best possible way. God has big plans for this brave, tender-hearted, lovable, sassy, hilarious, nurturing, beautiful little one. She is the daughter of my heart and I am honored to have been chosen to be her momma.<br />
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<span class="text Eph-3-20" id="en-NIVUK-29272" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">20 </span>Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, </span><span class="text Eph-3-21" id="en-NIVUK-29273" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">21 </span>to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen. </span></div>
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<span class="text Eph-3-21" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;">Ephesians 3:20-21</span></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04173221116118498902noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1653870502462485970.post-51323666752775729002015-07-07T12:49:00.001-07:002015-07-08T10:17:59.714-07:00the hardest job.Even with all of the "mommy-wars" out there attempting to split hairs over bedtimes and food choices and parenting styles, I think we mommas can all agree on one thing: <b>this high calling of raising little people is quite possibly the hardest job in all the world. </b><br />
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And, I have had the honor and privilege of learning another lesson:<b> this high calling of raising a little person with a broken heart is <i>absolutely</i> the hardest job in all the world. </b><br />
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Adoption is beautiful. In fact, there are times when it is <i>breathtakingly</i> beautiful. When you adopt a precious one who has lived a life full of brokenness and loss, you gain a front row seat to watch God's redemptive power at work on a daily basis.<br />
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Yet, you also gain a front row seat for more than just joy and beauty and adorable family photos. When this new little one joins your family, you find yourself smack-dab in the center of a trauma ward. Your peaceful home suddenly becomes a place of hostility and stress and pain.<br />
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You find yourself tip-toeing around this little person, never knowing when your next move will set off a rage or cause a complete shutdown.<br />
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Your heart is on the line for hurt upon hurt. This little person doesn't hurt you on purpose. In fact, she doesn't even realize what she is doing most of the time. You tell yourself not to take it personally {which hardly ever happens}.<br />
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You learn that love is a verb. You can love with actions and words even when your heart is weary. You can muster up the courage to get back in the ring and try again. <b>You learn that His mercies really are new every day. </b><br />
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You research the developing brain and the effects of early neglect and hunger and loss. You read <a href="http://ordinary-time.blogspot.com/2012/06/adoption-101-indiscriminate-affection.html" target="_blank">articles</a> and <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Place-Didnt-Belong-Hope-Adoptive/dp/0988593165" target="_blank">books</a>, watch <a href="http://empoweredtoconnect.org/" target="_blank">videos</a>, listen to <a href="http://www.adoptionlearningpartners.org/podcast/index.cfm" target="_blank">podcasts</a> and seek help from <a href="http://www.theraplay.org/index.php/what-is-theraplay-3" target="_blank">professionals</a>.<br />
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You often feel broken and ill-equipped, you make mistakes, you seek forgiveness. You question your responses and reactions, you often feel like you're failing.<br />
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<b>You quickly learn that isolation is a tool of the enemy. </b><br />
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You surround yourself with safe people. Friends you text at all hours. Prayer warriors, encouragers, truth bearers. You seek authenticity, you need people who can simply say, "<i>me too, friend. Me too</i>."<br />
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The enemy <i>wants</i> us to feel alone in our pain, to think we are the only ones struggling, to look at the photos and the status updates and believe the lie that we don't measure up.<br />
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<b>God desires for us to believe TRUTH. </b><br />
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The truth is that most of us have no idea what we are doing most days. <b>The truth is we are all ill-equipped</b>. The truth is, God works best when we come to the end of ourselves and rest in Him alone.<br />
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As we approach the one-year anniversary of Sylvie joining our family, I admit defeat. I admit that my human ability is not enough. <b>But, God.</b> God is. He can redeem all that has been lost and hurt. He can and He will.<b> </b>He can heal her broken heart. He can fill the hurting places with His love.<br />
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<b>My Hope is in Him alone.</b><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04173221116118498902noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1653870502462485970.post-30011721617222781772015-07-05T13:03:00.000-07:002015-07-06T09:12:42.032-07:00the 4th.We piled in the old RV that hadn't been used in years - four adults, seven kiddos and one dog - and headed north to join extended family to mourn the loss of Dave's Uncle Bob. Uncle Bob was dearly loved by many. His laughter was contagious. His life was marked by love. He will be greatly missed.<br>
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We celebrated his life in true Bob fashion, spending the weekend sun-soaked and water-logged. The littles were over the moon. Long days and late nights swimming, fishing, and grilling on the shores of the same lake where their daddy spent his summers doing the same as a child.<br>
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The trip was unexpected and packing to leave was a bit frantic. The drive was long - I was car sick, Charlotte and Ben both threw up on me, the water stopped working in the RV, we had a camping chair set up for additional seating and five kiddos slept on the one bed. Every once in a while, we would hear a THUD and run to find the child who had fallen off the bed or the couch in his or her sleep. Yet, the kids absolutely loved the ride and the adults laughed our way through the "adventure."<br>
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The trip served as a poignant reminder that we need to stop every once in a while simply to be with the ones we love. I can't count the number of times Dave and I have talked about making this trip up to Minnesota with the kids. We never found the time before now.<br>
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We knew Uncle Bob was smiling down on his loved ones as we finally came together for this sweet weekend. Laughter and tears intermingled. New memories created while reminiscing on days gone by.<br>
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I hope you were all able to step away from the demands of life to enjoy this summer weekend and the birth of our great country. It was a bittersweet 4th of july for us this year but, nevertheless, an immensely blessed one.<br>
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<br>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04173221116118498902noreply@blogger.com0