A Beautiful Mess

The first thing I hear in the morning is, "Mommy, I get up". Since he has not mastered the fine art of crawling out of his crib yet, he still cannot get himself up in the morning (and I am in no rush for him to figure that out). We scamper into the living room for a quick episode of Daniel Tiger (but only the episode where he goes to the potty or where he tastes veggies because little man knows what he likes and does not like). Yesterday, he was willing to eat the yogurt that comes in the little monkey cup, but today he won't be willing to eat that, it will have to be the yogurt that comes in the pouch. We get dressed and go to the car. He asks for his favorite songs on the radio, which I deny because my only chance to hear anything going on in the world is on the radio going to work (because I cannot stand the talk show host on the radio on my way HOME from work). He fusses at me for 1.5 seconds and then begins the battery of daily questions. "Mommy, I go shoot (school)?". Yes, baby, we are going to school. "Mommy, I see friends?" Yes, baby, we see friends. "Mommy, I see (and then we name each friend)?" Yes, baby, you will see (and I name all the friends). We talk about the "bus shoot" (school bus) as it passes our car window. He talks about his beloved teachers (who's names he still cannot say right so he calls by his own specially created (and totally adorable) nicknames). He asks for a bite of my breakfast (which is, somehow, always more interesting to him than his own). This little ritual is how he got introduced to coffee cake, coffee (black or with cream, he drinks it both ways), cutie oranges, granola bars, and cold cut sandwiches (I know, I have wonderful breakfast eating habits--- come on, people, the title of the post of "beautiful mess"-- you had to see this real world confession coming). I go through my day teaching about World War I during first hour, Cold War during second hour, Sectionalism and Antebellum period third hour. By fourth hour I get a little break and I have time to run my errands around campus and I usually have time to see him on his little playground with all the friends we so dutifully named on our way to school. I can see him running and screaming and jumping and being 10000% boy while he plays (bless his teacher... she deserves a metal). I hurry back to my room to cover my study hall, lunch duty and a final government class before my day ends. After all the students have been taught, my room cleaned (because there is always, always, always 500 little shreds of paper on my carpets by the end of the day), and some grading done, I get to pick him up. Most days, he is busy doing his favorite thing, playing outside, when I come for pick up. I love getting to be the one to pick up because I get the biggest smile from that little man and a screaming "Hi mommy!!" when he sees me. I usually brush the wood chips from his hair (he likes to throw them up in the air in true LeBron James style and for which he also tends to have to sit in the "Finking chair" as he calls it (timeout chair/thinking chair). One day after we got home, I found woodchips IN his pull-up--not sure what he was saving them for... but there they were. Then we are home and the nighttime race begins. In a frenzy of activity (dinner, bath, pajamas, and bed) the evening hours slip by far too quickly. Soon, the house is quiet and I have a moment to reflect. Our life is busy, there is a lot of rushing around on any given day. However, our life is beautiful. I am not talking about our physical life. The house needs painting, the lawn needs trimming, the car is dirty and my bedroom is still the terrible purple color it was when it moved in (6 years ago). The important parts of our life are beautiful. We love each other and we have the most wonderful son anyone could ask for. He is high energy with a splash of naughty... but he is a token of the goodness of God in our lives and to me, that makes him one of the most beautiful children I have even seen. Sure, he has a penchant for mischief (in one week alone he colored on my bedroom door, poured juice on the floor on purpose, and filled Buzz Lightyear's helmet with yogurt which I then had to clean out with q-tips because Buzz is a treasured friend) but he also can be incredibly sweet and loving. However you look at it, our life has a lot of color and a lot of flavor. When I look at it, though, all I can see is something beautiful... and messy. It's just our beautiful mess. Until next time --Amy

Unless I had seen

I find that from time to time, I get stuck on an idea or a concept and I just keep thinking on it, pondering over it and generally chewing on it until I have it all figured out. For the last couple of weeks now, I have been stuck on the goodness of God. In the world we live in, there sometimes isn't a lot of "good" to talk about. Scroll through Facebook sometime and really look at the posts objectively. Yes, there are the "we just got engaged" posts and the cute pregnancy announcements; but more often it is posts pleading for prayer because of loss or a really serious medical prognosis and you just want to close Facebook down and never open that door again. On the other hand, every so often, there is a little glimmer, a little ray in the dark clouds and you remember, HE is good. When all the THINGS in life seems grim...HE is good. Sometimes I think people miss just HOW good He really is. Hang with me here. We get saved and we start to really dig into faith. Then, wham, out of the blue, life gets hard. Not just a little bit... it gets soul crushing, agonizingly, depressingly hard. We run to the Bible, we look for that promise of hope. What do we find, though. We find that God never said, "Just trust in me and all of your problems will vanish and nothing will ever be hard and nothing bad will ever happen to you." If you have found that verse, let me know. Here is what I have seen. Jesus told his followers, "In this world ye shall have tribulation; BUT be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.". Furthermore, we are told that Paul had a "thorn in the flesh"... something that gave him (I am sure) pain and trouble. He asked God to take it away, but God didn't... because HIS grace is sufficient. Now is when the skeptics say, "well, that doesn't sound very good to me". Dear reader, let me say to you that it IS good. Without that thorn, Paul even said, the tendency to be puffed up in ourselves would be incredible. Here is where it gets so good. The writer in Psalms said "I had fainted, UNLESS I had believed to see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait on the Lord: be of good courage, and He shall strengthen thine heart." I can't tell you how many times in my own personal walk where I have come close to "fainting". Another trial, another hurt, another hard time... and yet, there is that verse staring me in the face and I think about the goodness of God. I can't escape it. It is all around me. I wake up in the morning and my eyelids flutter open and I can see the comfortable four walls of my bedroom all around me... the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. A little voice from the other room starts to yell (each time little louder until I respond)" Mommy, I get up".... the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. I roll over in my bed and there is the one person out of the 7 billion that was made for me... the goodness of the Lord. I walk past the memory box we made for our precious babies already in heaven and I rejoice that I have the hope of a resurrection... the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. I walk past my fridge and see the faces of the children of friends that I prayed for, begged the Lord to give to those friends, and there those little cherub faces smile back at me... the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. I see the save the date cards for former students ready to get married, who are choosing to live for God and love God... the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Ok, Amy, that's all well and good, but what about me today? I have suffered loss, tragedy, family struggles, financial woes. I don't feel that goodness. Friend, I totally understand how that feels. I have been there. Some days I am still there. Grief and trials and disappointments don't just go away. Grief, particularly, kind of moves in and never really moves out. It becomes less noticeable, but it is always there. But, grief, no matter how overwhelming, can't erase the goodness of God. Goodness is part of who He is. Even in those times where your heart feels ripped in two, He is still good. He does not promise that all things are good...some things in life, thanks to the curse of sin, will never be good things. BUT HE WORKS ALL THINGS TOGETHER FOR GOOD. That promise... it just gets sweeter the more I read it and think about it. I used to think, before I really knew Jesus as my own Savior, that that particular verse (Rm. 8:28) meant that "for them who love God" things somehow would be easier or less painful or good all the time. Now, I see it. Those things that aren't good in and of themselves like grief and tragedy, they work to make us more conformed to the image of Jesus. More than anything, they cause us to see how good He really is. I don't know what difficulty lies in front of you tonight, my dear reader (all 23 of you), but I do know this. The Word promises that in the Last Times, things will get harder and more difficult. Friends may fail you, even desert you. Being a true follower will probably even involve sacrifice, maybe even persecution. Cling to the truth, in those times, that He is good and His mercy endureth forever. And cheer up, my friend. As much as it may depress you to watch the news and the grim conditions we may see in our own nation and around the rest of the world, God is still on the throne and still looking to save souls. Even in the midst of the evil that we see all around, the goodness of the Lord is there on display. I see His goodness in the truths my son is learning (already) in AWANA and school about God. When he sings, "Jesus loves me..." Well I pretty much turn to mush. Jesus died for that little boy and I cannot wait for him to understand that truth. I see His goodness in the students who got saved this school year and are wanting to learn more. I see His goodness in the couples who are choosing to follow Jesus even if that means saying goodbye to the comfy American life for a third world village. He is good... always, only good. Look for the evidence of His goodness this week.

You have Memories

So this year I decided to download the app on Facebook that notifies you every day about something that happened in years past in your Facebook life on that day in your "history." (I am sure at this point, my personal computer geek, aka my dad, will call me and tell me that somehow this is a way for hackers to track me...oh well, they won't get much out of me anyway). This app is a two-edged sword. On the one hand, the year 2012 is getting increasingly harder and harder to read. There have been a few times already that Ryan has texted me and said, "Don't look at today's memories" and I know to just let that day's memories pass me by. For example, January 2012 was when we started really letting people know that baby Hannah was on her way. Every day, I open my "you have memories" notification box thinking to myself, "How painful is today going to be." BUT, even as that date of May 3rd looms closer and closer, I can't bear to uninstall the app because even in that pain, there is a reminder that it was in that year that I grappled with some truths that I now know beyond all doubt. I learned in that year that it was in that valley of the shadow that I would understand so much more about God and His character and unchanging goodness, even in a world with pain and suffering in it. He remains faithful, good, ONLY good, and ever gracious. Even in the moments where I really wasn't sure how I would be able to push aside the pain and "get through" another day, acting like everything was ok when it really wasn't, somehow, we made it through. Sure there are scars and sure there is still some raw emotion there from time to time, but we walked through that valley and stand on the other side of it now. It was through that loss that my eyes were opened to the fact that I had never really placed my faith in HIS finished work and relying on the prayer I prayed or "doing" the salvation moment correctly. Had we never had that moment in time that left us forever changed, I might have remained forever lost. However, after scrolling through the 2012 posts, there, in 2013 and 2014 are posts about our miracle. Either happy doctor reports that all is well and he is going to be born (we actually broke the news to the world at large over the long MLK weekend...so those good memories are coming) or a smiling baby face eating baby food for the first time, or rolling over, or eating peas or just being the perfectly adorable baby that he is. I am reminded again that joy does come in the morning and weeping only lasts for the night. Now, for us, our "night of weeping" was more like two long years, waiting for our miracle, but joy did come. Joy didn't only come and hang out for a day or two, it made itself a permanent member of the family. Each post from the last two years (with a few complaints about home repairs or traffic in Florida) are bursting with joy. Even my college years posts are preserved on Facebook. Even those, believe it or not, have been interesting to encounter. I either find myself a little embarrassed that I thought people would actually care about what I ate in the dining hall that day or I find myself smiling over posts like "Hey Linny, I accidentally took your printer cable to my house, but I will return it after break. See ya soon." Or I see posts with private jokes (that I actually have long forgotten the real meaning of, because, after all, college was some *cough cough I am old* years ago now) that make me smile, not because I remember the meaning but because of the friendships they represent. There are posts from after I was married but my friends were still seniors, where we set up "dinner at Amy's place (because I had the TV and the cable that they didn't have) tradition." In those college memories I can walk the dorms again, stay up all night to study (don't actually miss that), eat junk food, shop for trinkets, and eat the Chick-fil-A college special for $3.09. While the app has served to make me smile, laugh, remember and reflect, it has also made me thankful. I have been blessed. I have a wonderful life. I have a husband that I have known, in good times and out-and-out bad times, for nearly 10 years. I have a beautiful little boy who delights and, at times, challenges me and all I know about mothering. I have babies I have yet to meet and some I have held, only for a few moments, but who are awaiting my arrival (soon, I hope) in our forever home. There are friendships, preserved for all time on the walls of that app (yes, for all the world to see). The good, the bad, the joys, the sorrows...they are all there. I click "See your memories for today" and suddenly I am 20 year old Amy once again, making college friends, taking too many classes at once, and dating my first real and only love. With a quick click of the mouse (or in my case, tap on the i-phone), I am in my first teaching job and complaining about four new preps while my chili simmers in the crock pot (oh the days when I was first married and I had a crock pot dinner ready almost every day...I am imagining my hubby misses those days too....ha ha). One more swipe and there is a picture of an oh so tiny baby Joel wearing his "My first Thanksgiving" bib and grinning like he still does with eyes twinkling that hints at a pinch of naughty and pounds of sweetness. More than anything, I am grateful that the app does not have (not like it could anyway) a "see your memories of tomorrow" feature. I know that must be why the Lord told us "Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself." Imagine if 2012 Amy knew what May of 2012 held for us. I do not know how she would have carried that burden. Even this Amy, the 2016 version, couldn't carry that weight. I was listening to our Awana director speaking tonight in our club at church to our 3rd-5th grade girls. She was telling a student-aged version of Corrie ten Boom's story (which if you have not read the book on her life...you MUST...go get it tomorrow!!). Tonight's segment was about Corrie's early years as a child and that her greatest struggle was being afraid...for her, it seemed, mostly of death or tragedy befalling her family. Near the end of the story, Corrie's father used a train ride as a teachable moment. "Corrie," he said, "When we ride the train somewhere, when do I give you the ticket to hold?" Corrie's answer was that is was right before the ticket taker on the train would ask for it. That's how it is in life also. God does not heap upon us ALL that life has for us to cope with or enjoy or manage all at once...we could not take it. He gives us the ticket RIGHT when we need it. Oh the truth in that story. Now, ask 2012 Amy if she even wanted to be on train we were on and I am not sure what answer she would give you...but, when it came time to live that day in May in 2012, somehow, we had the ticket and we made it through. Dearest readers (all 23 of you), I do not know what 2016 is going to bring your way or mine. 2016, even though is is a mere 15 days old, has already held joys and tragedy for all of us, I am confident of that. I know there are still those dear friends (and I do pray for you, please know that) who are still awaiting your own miracle baby. Take heart...perhaps 2016 is your miracle baby year! There are others who have no idea which job path to take next, how you are going to pay for college, or how you will ever get your toddler potty trained! Maybe this is the year that will be made plain to you. Wherever you find yourself in this year, remember, we don't need to worry about tomorrow, the ONE who feeds the sparrows and clothes the lilies in the field...HE can manage this year and make it into something beautiful in HIS time. Trust Him to hold the ticket until HE is ready for you to take it. He is a good, good Father. It is Who He is...He is ALWAYS ONLY GOOD. Until next time, AMY

Tree Tops

Thanksgiving break this year came quicker than I was expecting. I am sure there are a couple reasons for the whirlwind feeling that accompanied Thanksgiving this year, but that's a story for another post. Before Thanksgiving could begin, my fellow teachers and I had professional development prior to everyone scurrying away to wherever their holiday plans would be taking them. This year, rather than sit and listen to seminars, our leadership team chose for us to do team building. I have loved all the team building events that we have done before (bowling, laser tag) but this year I was scared to death when our administrator announced we would be doing a tree/ropes course (as in, you are up in the trees, hanging by ropes and completing obstacles). For most, this sounds like a fun day outside, but for me (the girl who has to have her husband get the Christmas tree out of the attic because I CANNOT stand to climb that ladder without my legs turning to mush) it was a terrifying thought. Well, we arrived at the tree course and at first glance, it didn't look too bad (I discovered later that I was looking at the training course when I made my "not too bad" assessment). Well, they strapped us into harnesses and led us to a "training video." In the video, they explained some of what we would be doing and I thought to myself, "There is no way." However, I pulled up my harness, so to speak, and tried out the training course. The training course was probably no more than 8 feet off the ground, yet as I tested out my "skills", I already found myself weak in the knees. This was going to take all my mental fortitude to complete. Once we completed the safety course, the little training girl told me and two others, "Ok, off you go to course 1." We obediently headed towards the first level and looked around us. There seemed to be no one watching us or telling us what to do. Out of desperation, I nominated another person to brave the course before I started my climb. There was no way I was going to be first. I watched her till her had reached the first platform (which was probably only about 15-20 feet off the ground). I grabbed the carabiners off my harness and clipped onto the ladder...there was no going back now. Climb, climb, clip, clip...all the way to the top. "Ok", I told myself, "We are up the ladder and that wasn't so bad." That's when I saw my first obstacle, a suspension bridge of plank boards. It was as though someone had tape recorded my worst nightmares and then created a course to match. SLOWLY, I edged my way onto the planks. "Ok, not so bad", I told myself. By this time, the rest of our little group that had completed basic training (about 10 of my coworkers) had reached the ladder and were making their way into the course. One by one I completed the various parts of the course and finally, I reached the end of course one. However, in order to complete course one and get to solid ground, I had to ride a zip line and then go down another ladder. When I got to the zip line "jump off point", I opened by memory banks and tried to remember all the steps of clipping into the zip line. When, finally, I felt I had it totally right (and after tugging on my harness and the carabiners about 1,000 times to make sure they would REALLY hold me) I pushed off the platform and went sailing along---yelling "Oh, I hate this....Oh this is bad" (I can only imagine how funny that must have looked). When I got to the end of course one and back on the ground, it was time to move to level 2 (there were 5 levels to tackle that day). This was when the "guide" who was helping us found me. "You are going to do course 2 today, Amy!" I wanted to say, "I don't think I can." But I only managed a small grunt. Everyone else had survived level one so I figured I may as well keep going. So, once again, I found a way NOT to be first up the ladder. This course was twice as challenging as the first was. I remember at one point looking down at my guide and asking, "Have these harnesses been tested for weight limits?" He laughed at me and made some kind of joke (which I did not find funny as I was clinging to the ropes with all my strength). It was at this point that the guide became an invaluable source of knowledge. We came to a rope bridge that was made up of a bridge that was twisted up kind of like a strand of DNA. The guide would stand below and yell directions as to how to cross the obstacle. Without those tips, I would have been a goner for sure. Sure enough, when I followed his advice, I was able to cross with speed (which I was happy about). I never looked behind me, but from the giggles and screams and occasional "Ah, I can't do this"...I knew which obstacles my coworkers had arrived at. We reached the mid-point of course 2 with a big barrel that we had to find a way to climb through (in mid-air). I had visions in my body of getting stuck in there, Winnie-the-Pooh-style, but somehow I got in and out of that thing. Much to my surprise, I was able to complete level two, with the help of my guide and my coworkers cheering me on. I was feeling pretty amazed that level two was behind me. Then, I looked at level three and started to wonder if I could finish. But, by this point, I was determined. I climbed the ladder to the top of level three. Phew...this one was higher for sure. I was feeling pretty confident until I got to these swinging ropes of death...it was at that point, I knew, I had reached the end of my time on the ropes course. I yelled for a guide to come save me, and my time was finished. Since I had tapped out on level three, and there were five levels, I meandered my way to the "observation area" to watch everyone else who did not chicken out finish the course. It was a beautiful day and I got to watch some pretty funny stunts up there in the trees. It also gave me time to think. Below are my "take-aways" from my day on the ropes 1. No one can walk the ropes for you and no one can put the harness on for you. Its a lot like life. I HAD to put on the harness--coworkers, pastors, parents, friends--they cannot do it for you. Faith is something YOU have to choose to put on (no one can choose for you...you have to accept the free gift) There are no works involved...the harness does the work...just like faith. You put your full faith in Christ, nothing in yourself. Once I had the harness on, it was off to the ropes. I found that the obstacles I found challenging, others found easy. The ones I thought were "fun" (there really were some that were fun), others found scary or hard. So it is in life. I walk ropes others have walked before and find them to be much harder than I imagined they could be. 2. This life is harder alone. While I was up there, I probably would have quit much quicker had I not had friends in front of me yelling back words of wisdom on how to cross a certain bridge or avoid a painful mistake on the ropes. I also moved with speed because I knew there were people behind me and I did not want to be a hindrance to their progress either. I know for sure there are people that God has allowed into my life so those pivotal moments when I need someone to yell that encouragement to me. I also have people watching me...that's a weighty responsibility. 3. We are not left to do life without a "guide". When I was tackling one particular bridge (it was made of logs, suspended by ropes but not connected to each other...so in other words, it was like crossing a set of swings on a playground...everything was swinging while you tried to cross it) the guide was yelling a very specific direction. "Put one put in the middle of one log and keep it there while you swing the other leg to the next log and then repeat that process." When I listened to him, I had a relatively easy time crossing. Boy, when I quit listening (mostly out of sheer panic), it was really hard. Believers have a guide...the WORD! How many times do I rush out of the house without consulting it. A ropes course in the middle of a forest is nothing compared to this life. I had really keen ears to listen to my guide on the tree course...but how many times do I ignore my guide in my LIFE course? By the time I was home (and taking Tylenol for my aching muscles), I found myself feeling so very thankful for that experience. Not only had we avoided sitting inside all day in a meeting, but I had conquered major fears and had a lot of fun. I had gotten to know coworkers in a whole new way and I had learned some new lessons about myself. Now, I don't think you will see me making this into a weekend hobby, but I can say I will be back to try it again...someday.

I am the one in four

I have never been much good at math. I cried my way through algebra in high school and had a tutor for geometry. It's never been my strong suit. But some numbers in my life are unforgettable, even if the math does not add up. One in four...I have been the one in four 3 out of 4 times. I am not sure how that math works out but none the less, those are my numbers. 

       October is infant and pregnancy loss awareness month. I have four children but people only see one. I know all four of them in my heart but I only know one by sight...my miracle and my rainbow baby, Joel! The reason why this month matters in my mind is because it is high time we moms are allowed to talk openly about these babies that went from us to heaven with no layover here on earth. It's too hard to keep those conversations inside and only think of those babies when no one else is around, cry when no one is looking, or comfort a new mom that joined this unfortunate club when no one will know what we are saying. 

        Joel is what people call a rainbow baby. I have never really called him that. The rainbow was God's promise that He would never again destroy the whole earth by flood. God didn't promise that nothing hard would ever happen to Noah again. BUT I have to think that whenever Noah saw that rainbow, he knew God would keep His word and that He could be trusted. When I look at Joel, I don't tell myself "well, we will never experience that kind of pain again because now we have our rainbow." Wrong! In fact, we miscarried almost a year after Joel. When I look at Joel, I can't help but smile and think of the deep, dark valley that God walked us through and once we reached the other side, we were not immune from grief but rather ready to face it and more ready to embrace joy. We have daily joys with Joel that I think is multiplied by four due to all we have lost. We take four times the pictures, read four times the bed time stories, watch four times the Winnie the Pooh, and steal four times the kisses.

       I don't know why a statistic like one in four has to exist except the curse of sin. Until I felt that pain of pregnancy and miscarriage and stillbirth, I didn't really understand grief fully (and I am not saying I have it under control by any means...I STILL have hard days). The first days after a loss, grief was literally like an elephant sitting on my chest. I felt like I could not breathe. I could hardly say my babies names let alone hold a conversation about them without a breakdown. As time progresses, it becomes more like an unpleasant guest that rings the doorbell just when you are your most relaxed. It never strikes when you think it will. It comes and goes and comes and goes.  Sometimes I can utter their names or talk about them with little to no emotion and other times my voice quakes a little. I sometimes feel regret, even today, that sweet baby number one and baby number four never got names because they left us so early (8 weeks and 7 weeks) but Hannah did. Grief is like that, isn't it?? Sometimes I wonder, once they arrived Home, if Jesus didn't welcome them and they instantly knew their name (the name He chose). I can only imagine that any name Jesus chose for them had to be infinitely more perfect than what I would have chosen had God seen fit to let them stay with us.

        Why do I tell you this? Why should you care? Because we walk among you. If we are one in four, then chances are you know a woman who is grieving during this month. She maybe told NO ONE else but her husband and they struggle along, alone, afraid that people will not understand why they grieve.  I am not implying that this should be your first question when making a new friend. I am just pleading for us to exercise kindness and patience with those who mourn.

       As for me and my house and the story that is our life, God has written these chapters for us and He has figured out the statistics on our family. The most wonderful part...He knows the final numbers. We have prayed for an increase but only He knows how and when that will happen. He has placed new burdens on our heart, especially as it relates to adoption. So for now, the little earthly family

Of three is simply that...three. In the heavenly family photo album...we are six (and perhaps even more). I cannot wait to see that picture as a whole one day!

Guilt and Graham Crackers

I have been back in the classroom for two whole weeks now with students, three weeks in total. So, needless to say, I am up to my eyeballs in papers to grade, lesson plans to write, resources to create and several other tasks to tackle. Additionally, I still have a house to keep, meals to cook, dishes to wash (more than normal because my dishwasher decided to give up and die), and laundry to manage. On Thursday night, little man had a very rough night. He went down for his usual bedtime and I thought all was well. After only about 30 minutes, he was up and crying. In frustration, I went into his room and tried my normal method, telling him all was well, kissing him, and leaving him to sleep. But, tonight, none of that was working. So, with a heavy sigh, I picked him up. I took him to his old glider chair and I held him, rocked him, and kissed his little head. With each rock of the chair, my mind raced. Rock rock...I have a stack of essays to grade before tomorrow. Rock rock..those dishes won't wash themselves. Rock rock...no one has any clean underwear in this house. Then, as I rocked, it struck me again. Someday, and soon, I won't be able to hold this little man in my arms any more because he will be big and he won't want to be rocked. Someday soon I will want those moments and I won't be able to have them back. There will be lots of time when he is 5 or 15 or in college for me to keep a spotless home, free of graham cracker crumbs in every corner of the couch, kitchen, and car seats. There will be time, when he is grown and has a home and family of his own, for me to never have piles of laundry or soggy training pants soaking in the bathtub for washing. These days are exhausting and exhilarating. There are times when I feel like I don't exactly know how I made it through my day, but somehow I did. I know it won't always be like this. I also have those moments where I feel guilty for NOT doing more...more training, more teaching, more loving of my little man. Those days when I pick him up at school and discover he threw a toy at his friend or tried to push his teacher I wonder, am I doing this right? But then, I am reminded...all I can do is my best. That's all I can do. The Word reminds me that I must "train up a child in the way he should go." So, right now, what that looks like is reading him at least one verse before he goes to bed each night. Helping him commit one verse to memory each month. Teaching him to have "kind hands" with his friends at school, to say sorry when we wrong someone, and to be obedient to our daddy, mommy, and teachers. Right now, it means I clean up at least five "puddles" per night as we potty train with real underwear at home (because I may have to take out a second mortgage if I have to keep buying pull-ups). So, for right now...we will balance it all. Balancing guilt and graham crackers...and I am ok with that. :) XOXO-- AMY

It took a Hurricane--Final Edition

If you remember, at the start of the summer, I found out about the closing of the college I graduated from. I wanted to write a tribute to the place that I called home for three years of my college experience while also detailing how I arrived at CCC as well. Tonight is the final installment of said story. Tonight's story isn't about buildings or classes or the debts I incurred getting my education. Tonight's story is about people. People were what made Clearwater what it was to me. So, tonight (mostly because I just cannot get to sleep--its teacher training week at work and my mind just refuses to shut down) I want to tell you about several people and how God used Clearwater to bring them into my life. Linny: The way I met Linny is one of my favorite stories. It was a Sunday morning. Almost everyone on campus had already left to get to church. Being that I was one of the lucky few to have my own car, I was planning to drive myself to the church I was going to visit that week (since I had yet to pick one, officially). Before walking out the door, a girl from a neighboring unit came over. "Hey, so I was wondering if you could do me a favor," She asked. How bad could this really be, I thought to myself. "Ok, sure, what is it?" I offered back. "Well, see, everyone in my unit has already left for church and one of the girls in my unit has this toe that is infected. I don't know, but I think she needs to go to a walk-in clinic. No one else with a car is still here. Could you take her?". Now, being more reclusive that an old cave-dwelling hermit, the idea of taking a complete stranger in my car, for an undetermined amount of time, and being obligated to fill that time with small talk, shook me to my core. However, I am also a chronic people-pleaser.... so naturally, I said yes. Thank the Lord I did. It was on that day, driving a total stranger to a walk-in clinic, for an infected toe (most random injury of the year award goes to....) brought me one of my dearest friend. As an added bonus, it also introduced me to her sister who also became a dear friend. Lin and Julie were in my wedding. We were roommates from the next year and every year till graduation. When I got married and lived in town, they came over on a weekly basis for "family dinner" (which was always spaghetti because it was easy and also cheap... ha ha). When they moved back home after graduation, they called when their family came to Florida for vacation and I came for the day to catch up. They were among the first people to know that Joel was going to be born. They spent countless hours shopping, coffee drinking, laughing, secret Christmas party throwing, birthday surprising and the list goes on and on. What great friends from such a weird story. Julie: One of my favorite memories with Julie was the time we decided to dye her hair. This was not an uncommon practice in the dorms, in fact most of the desk chairs in the dorms bore the tell-tale marks of hair dye drips down the backs of them. For whatever reasons, we convinced Julie to trade her totally perfect blonde hair for a new shade. The problem was, none of us were really very good at dying hair to begin with. In the end, Julie spent a day or so with nearly pink hair. I felt so bad. She cried. I took her out to coffee to try and dull the pain. In the end, we asked a professional and she suggested stripping the hair, but warned us that it would be very damaging to the hair. Cue insane practical joke/payback. I went to my R.A's apartment to talk with her about something and Lin came to get me. When we started walking back to the unit, Lin told me that Julie's hair had started to fall out in clumps and she was crying hysterically. I fell apart. I just knew she would never speak to me again! How happy I was to find that she still had all her hair, but it was restored (albeit with a little bit more of a reddish hue to it) to its former glory. Never again became my motto when it came to hair color after that. Ryan: Of all my college stories, this one is the most insane and yet it is my favorite one to tell. I first met Ryan in Bible class. Being an "Arnold" at that time, my seat was at the front of the class, first row, in fact. Ryan, being a "Withee" was all the way at the back. My first recollections were that he was the loud, opinionated boy that sat in the back... and that would have been the end of it, except that one of my friends was going to be attending the Christmas formal with him... so our paths began to cross more frequently as they hung out from time to time. While all of that was happening, I had officially discovered that my very first dating relationship had ended. He and I had met when we were in high school and were very good friends. But, since I was not permitted to date till I was in college, no real attachment formed prior to that. So when I started college, we officially started "dating." We had dated during my freshman year, but most of that relationship took place long distance as he had been deployed to Iraq. When I started at CCC, the relationship was pretty much on its last leg anyways. After a few painful phone calls, I was once again alone. Since I had never dated before that ONE relationship, I was pretty unsure of how the whole ritual was supposed to go anyway. Well, my friends decided that I really should not go to the Christmas banquet alone. They decided to set me up with someone. So, a few weeks before the banquet was to take place, I found myself on my very first "first time" date. He picked me up and took me out for dinner so we could get to know each other and decide, I guess, if going to the banquet together was going to be fun or straight up torture. That first dinner was enough to clue me in that this guy was a strange one. Over pizza, he wanted to know when I thought I would want to get married, how many kids I would like to have, if I thought social drinking was acceptable (cue foreshadowing music and lighting since that's what he found himself "politely asked not to return to CCC" for)and my life story... over pizza (I do have to say, it was REALLY good pizza... which ought to tell you that the pizza was the only highlight of that date because I really don't remember much else except that I was really glad the date was over by the time we drove back to campus). However, I was stuck at this point because I had already said I would go to the banquet with him... and being a chronic people pleaser, I felt like it would be rude to not go with him now. So, the plans were finalized. I would go with "Pizza boy" and my friend would be going with Ryan and a fun time would be had by all--except probably not me and "pizza boy." The only snag in the events of the evening would be after the banquet was over because the "unwritten laws" of Clearwater demand that after the Banquet everyone MUST stay dressed up in their fancy attire and go bowling, or white water rafting, or laser tagging, or out for coffee or SOMETHING to prolong the fun and make it seem worth it getting all spiffed up. After the banquet was over, everyone in our group would be going out for coffee, but my date, had gotten himself in trouble and was campused (basically grounded). Long story short... at the end of the banquet, my friend and I traded dates. Like a trooper, she stayed behind with grounded boy and I went out with Ryan (with Linny acting as our official chaperone as we were not old enough to date "alone" off campus yet). The rest, as they say, is history. Eventually, "pizza boy" left CCC and Ryan and I continued to date and eventually get engaged and here we are... married for seven years. CCC was more than buildings, as I said. It was more than the life lessons I learned in the classrooms and in the dorms. It was more than the work-study program. It was more than the endless coffees I made in the café or the cheese I scraped out of the nacho machine at the end of a work night. It was so much more than all of that. It was the people. It was the friends and life long bonds I created while I was there. Many of those bonds continue to this day. When I turned 27, my parents and hubby wanted to do something BIG for that birthday (it was my golden birthday because I turned 27 on the 27th). You know who they flew in for it? Yeah, Lin and Julie!!! A full five years after I had graduated and left CCC. I think, in a way, that's why the legacy of that place won't die. It does on with us. We still text and call. We still know when the other ones are having a struggle. I know I have prayed for them when I knew they were going through a storm in life. THAT... those relationships and bonds....THAT is CCC. It keeps going on as long as we carry on with loving and caring for the family we met there. Boy, I am so thankful God sent that hurricane to Pensacola at that EXACT time. It made me uncomfortable. It shook up my world and my plans. It brought me to something bigger and better. It took a hurricane to get me to CCC... and I am so thankful.