Dreams and Cuban Sandwiches

I am away this week at a teaching and technology conference. In a word, it has been refreshing. It has been so nice to step outside of my classroom and get some fresh ideas, network with other educators who are out there getting the job done, and see some cool, geeky new tech for the classroom at the same time. As I was sitting in a very crowded convention hall, munching on a Cuban sandwich (the convention is in Miami, so obviously I had to have a Cuban even though I am convinced that Tampa makes them better--but I digress), I had a second to reflect. I was eating my lunch and I decided to take the longer route to my next class. This particular convention center has a beautiful second story walk way of all glass panels, giving you a really nice view of the town of South Beach. As I walked, I was reflecting on where my life had taken me since my very first teaching conference way back in 2010! A lot has changed and so many of those "big dreams" I had for my professional career have happened now. I am finally able to teach the subject that made me want to become a teacher in the first place--American History! I am finally getting my Master's degree, when I have been thinking of doing it and "someday-ing" about it but never actually getting up the courage to start. Now, I have 2/10 courses out of the way and starting the third on Monday. I have wanted for years to be an AP reader...my invitation to attend the reading came in my email yesterday! I know the prospect of grading AP essays for five straight days doesn't sound like something any normal human would want to do, but I cannot imagine any way to help me be a better teacher to my own AP kids than to experience a reading first hand! But it did not all happen without hard work, without sacrifice, without mistakes and pitfalls and long nights of prepping and thinking and DREAMING! It is not just "mine" either. My husband has sacrificed so much to help me accomplish my dreams. He has put himself last so I could be successful. He has supported me, graded papers with me, substituted for me, cheered me on, and been my rock through it all. Even more, that dream of being a mom came true in the last ten years. So many dreams, so many wishes, so many hopes... So, first year teacher, or teacher who is "starting over again" at a new school--hang in there! It will not ALWAYS be late nights and feeling like you are only staying ONE day ahead (heck, maybe only one HOUR ahead) of your students. It will not always feel like you have no social life and no time to recharge. You will not ALWAYS have to teach that one class you don't really have a passion for. Keep on dreaming. Dreaming is not silly or impractical or a waste of time. Dreams are essential. Dreams motivate us to keep on keeping on. Now, why eating a Cuban with a thousand teachers I didn't know evoked those kinds of thoughts---your guess is as good as mine. However, Miami will be a special memory for me because I gained a little perspective, reflected on just how BLESSED these last ten years have been, and smiled about how I can't wait to see what the next ten years will be.

Faith in a car seat, pipes, and a mailbox

If you have been in church any amount of time, you have heard a missionary or a pastor speak about how the cupboards were bare and they were not sure where the next meal was coming from. Then, one day, someone left a bag of groceries on the porch or a mysterious check showed up in the mail box. I had heard all those stories. I had read biographies of the giants like George Muller who sat the kids in his orphanage down to a meal, when there was no meal to serve, and they prayed and thanked God IN ANTICIPATION of the meal they knew HE would provide. I remember hearing that story and others like it and thinking...”wow, I would love to see God work a miracle like that in my life.” However, I remember thinking, “But, I really don’t want to sit down to dinner and not know where dinner was coming from.” Fast forward to this past August when I walked into our bedroom, shaking and crying, with yet another positive pregnancy test while Ryan slept with our six month old miracle in our bed. I cried. I questioned how on earth we were going to do this. My body had just had a baby...and I had to do it again? Our bills from Leah were still being paid off. I remember thinking there was just no way. But somehow, God has sustained this little life (and me). I sit here, with my feet up because my ankles kind of look like I have softballs attached to them (but I’m a 35 week pregnant high school teacher so my feet don’t really take a lot of breaks), marveling how far God has brought me and little “no-name.” Then, our OB told us the cost of this new baby and we nearly fainted. Then, somehow, we found room on a credit card or two (sorry Dave Ramsey...it had to be done) and paid that bill off. Next, our insurance at work changed and we discovered we would owe even more for this baby (not including whatever the hospital decides to charge us once she makes her appearance). Once again...I panicked. Where would this money come from? How would we pay such a big amount? But once again, God provided. It was creative (and may have involved Uncle Sam and president Trump’s new child tax credit) but it got paid. However, somewhere along the 32nd week mark, it dawned on me that this baby needs to be able to ride in our car...so we started pricing car seats and a stroller since Leah is JUST starting to walk well and I cannot imagine trying to wrangle a five year old, a one year old and an infant in and out of stores with just a cart. The sticker shock got to me. No quality items were inexpensive and the list of things we needed kept growing. So, we picked something we wanted to planned to get those items when we could. But God planned differently. A far away, but much beloved, friend sent me a text out of the blue one night to inform me she had purchased and shipped my double stroller for the girls. I cried and thanked her. Then, my amazing co-workers told me they were throwing me a diaper shower (which was another big stress...two kids in diapers...yikes). They didn’t just shower me with diapers and wipes...they bought our very costly new car seat. I cried. I was overwhelmed. Every need met...some of them before I even asked God for them. Then, last weekend, our whole plumbing system (minus the kitchen sink, oddly enough) totally backed up and stopped working. Now, for a very large pregnant woman...a working bathroom is pretty much a non-negotiable. It was not a livable situation and every “expert” we consulted said, “This will not be a small or inexpensive job...get ready.” And I cried. How would we do it? Once again...I asked God to resolve it. But if I am honest, I didn’t really expect Him to do it. I mean...it is a sewer system. Could the all-Powerful, All-Creating ONE really intervene in that instance? So, my amazing family came to our rescue. My Father-in-law came and snaked and did gross jobs that no one would ever want to volunteer to do. My dad used some of his hotel credits to put us up in hotels (which Joel loved because it was an adventure to travel from hotel to hotel all weekend long). We got a plumber out to the house and what was projected to be a VERY big job came out to be one very expensive wipe that had been flushed when it shouldn’t have been (my money is on my smallest “helper”). Now, we would still have to pay this guy...but at least it woulnd’t be thousands. However, God still provided. Loving people sneaked little monetary gifts into the mail, into my hand, wherever they could. I was humbled. It was the exact amount the plumber quoted us. I couldn’t believe it. All those years of hearing the stories of faith...it was happening to me. I could hear the lyrics from one of my old favorites in my head “Jesus, Jesus, how I trust Him! How I’ve proved him o’re and o’re.” I used to sing it and feel like a huge hypocrite because I hadn’t proved Him. I hadn’t found myself at the end of my own rope beggin Him to step in and provide as only He can. Now I had seen it. Not just one time, but dozens in the past few months. We joke all the time about the fact that this little baby has no name. We have tossed out hundreds of them. None of them fit. None of them hit us as the “perfect name.” I can tell you one thing though...her middle name will very likely be Faith. From the moment we knew she existed, this whole roller coaster ride has been about faith. Am I going to trust the God who formed her to provide for her and for us? It makes me think of a verse in I Samuel where Samuel takes a stone and names it Ebenezer (don’t worry..we aren’t going to call this baby Ebenezer...we like her a lot). At the end of the verse, after he sets the stone up as a memorial of all God has done he says, “Hitherto hath the Lord helped us.” I feel like, every time I get out that double stroller I will be reminded that so far, the Lord has helped us. Every time I buckle a baby in the new car seat, I will remember that He has helped us. Every time I use these WORKING and functional bathrooms or wash a load of clothes...there it is again...that Ebenezer of God’s goodnesss and providence. I hope I never forget this time. This time when I foolishly doubted His providence and care and He was there to remind me. He didn’t just remind me once or twice...but over and over again. Faith...faith in a car seat, a stroller, a baked up sewer pipe. FAITH.

May 3rd

Tomorrow is May 3rd...Hannah’s day. Even though the actual event was six years ago now, the emotions are still as raw and as fresh as though it were yesterday. It’s a hard day to get through. I have to work and live as though nothing ever happened. My students won’t know. My coworkers won’t know. Our family as a whole sets aside mother’s day weekend every year to mark her short life and celebrste the short time we had her with us. A wise man once said that God can’t bless a man richly until He has hurt him deeply. Hannah leaving us was a deep hurt. It still hurts. Sometimes there are still dark days. However, I have been blessed richly. My beautiful son. If Hannah had not been taken, it’s doubtful he would be with us. He is so special, so happy, and brings us such joy. He didn’t and couldn’t replace Hannah but he was like a sweet balm on a deep wound. Then came Leah who was like the cherry on top of a sweet surprise. So tomorrow when I feel like being sad, I will get up early and make bottles for Leah and pack a sandwich (which is do most days for Joel) in a Spider-Man lunchbox. I will love my babies here...while I remember my baby “over there”. I will teach other people’s “babies” and attempt to mask my grief because that’s what I am called to do. I think Hannah would be proud of her mom in that moment. I will pray for my 1 in 4 Facebook group that BECAUSE of Hannah exists. I will reach out to those moms who have just recently walked through that dark valley of baby losses and love them and pray for them because of Hannah. Hannah’s life was short but oh so purposeful. So if you see me tomorrow and I am not fully myself...I’m ok. It’s ok. I don’t need you to feel bad for me. I don’t feel Bad for myself and I don’t need you to pity me or even hug me (I really don’t like hugs anyway). I’m not sad because I don’t know where she is or that she will never feel pain or suffering. I’m sad because we miss her and we loved her. But tomorrow I will muster the strength that comes from knowing the one who made Hannah and who, for HIS purposes and His plans, took her home. Happy heaven birthday, Hannah! We miss you

Baby Girl

Nothing about LJ was planned. I remember distinctly waking up the morning that I discovered I was pregnant and deciding it was stupid to "waste" a pregnancy test (and WHY are those tests so expensive anyhow?). But, I felt so lousy I decided it was worth the waste. After all, the result would for sure be negative since Joel was a living miracle...I doubted lighting could strike twice. When the test was the furthest thing from negative I started to shake a little. Ryan was out of town on a very important business trip and I knew I couldn't tell him because it could throw him off his game. So, I kept my secret for a whole day. The entire time I didn't dare get my hopes up. I mean, after all, we had been pregnant so many times and only one of them got to come live with us...so why get too excited? After I knew Ryan was done with meetings and business "stuff", I called him. I can't speak to how he felt, but if he felt like I did, it was something like total and utter shock, with a lot of joy sprinkled in for good measure. Then, we found out LJ would be a girl. The emotions overwhelmed me. We had wanted a girl for so long. We had our girl, but she never came home with us. I felt joy, terror, guilt, elation...a swirl of emotions that I could not really label them all. My baby showers came and went and with each frilly dress, my dread grew. What if I have to pack all these frilly pink things up like last time and give them away to someone who was not dealing with grief so intense it felt like you were buried under ten tons of rocks? But every appointment, she was healthy, she was strong, she was perfect in every way. Then, induction day came. I remember being induced with Hannah. I remember the sadness of knowing she would only be "with us" for a few more hours. I remember being induced with Joel and experiencing true labor for the first time. I remembered the joy beyond my wildest dreams when I heard him cry out. So, when the meds did their work and labor started with LJ, I knew from a physical stand point what I would be up against...but I did not plan on the emotions. After a VERY quick 10 minutes of active "pushing" (with a few moments of sheer terror when my midwife announced that LJ's cord was wrapped around her neck), she was here. I remember that little head of VERY dark hair being placed on my chest and I remember feeling the sting of hot tears, ugly cry style, coursing down my face. She was beautiful. She was alive. She was healthy. SHE was here. Many people have asked if Leah has "helped" with my grief or if I feel like we are a "complete" family now. It's a really hard feeling to describe. I know Hannah is in heaven, and though separated from us by death, she is still "one of us." However, the only thing I can say to describe having LJ with us now is that she brought a sense of healing. While it still hurts sometimes to talk about Hannah, while occasionally I have down days, LJ has helped to heal that deep, deep pain in my heart. I love that she has a personality all her own. I love that she has stretched my capabilities as a mother. I don't really love the sleep-deprivation side of it, but I do love those late night snuggles when I am alone in the living room, just LJ and I, and I can sing my old hymns to her without anyone hearing how badly I sing. I love how much Joel loves her and how there is no kind of love quite like that of siblings. I love that Joel, the most social kid you will ever meet, now will have a playmate. We are tired at our house. We have been stretched in every way. We are sleep deprived, we have piles of medical bills from bringing home a new baby...in the middle of a raging flu season. However, we are also thankful. We are grateful. We are blessed. I am trying not to miss the moments. She will be like all other second-born children. She has a baby book...but it has only a little bit written in it so far (with her brother I wrote down the date and time of his first sneeze...you get the picture). However, my mental camera roll is full. I will never forget when Ryan held his little girl for the first time. I cannot erase the image of Joel sauntering into the delivery room, bursting with pride, to meet her for the first time. The way Joel beamed at her when she came to meet his friends at school is forever stamped on my heart. The way our children's pastor cried (and in turn made me cry....post partum hormones are mean that way) when he met her for the first time still makes me cry a little. When she gave her daddy her first little gummy smile....I hope I never forget how that looked. Not only can I still smell it, but I still smile every time I think of that first really catastrophic diaper...let's just say I laughed and laughed and then threw the outfit in a bleach bath. The look on her face while I giggled at her dilemma was priceless. Her middle name had to be Joy. How else could we describe her. She is our Joy.

Just Holding On...AND letting go

It all started in April. In April we listed our home of 8 years. My whole family came down from Tallahassee and we painted every wall and ceiling in my house. We replaced flooring, cleared out the backyard, changed light bulbs, staged the house, and landscaped. Within two weeks of listing, we had an offer. Naturally, because we have the best luck in the world, we got the world's most finicky buyers. So, then we had to begin the second round of "fixing, spending, repairing" to meet the buyers newest demands. Sooner than I was ready, however, we were signing final papers and driving away for the last time from the only place that our son had known as "home." I remembered so many things about that house. It was that house that had been supernaturally provided when we needed it most. It was that house that tested us in every single way with repairs, fun plumbing "events" that I cannot elaborate on for fear of laughing so hard and making my husband look over at me like I have lost my mind (none of those events were funny at the time), some remodeling, and tearing out a pool by ourselves (and nearly killing each other in the process). It was that house that Joel first came home to, took his first steps, talked, laughed, and rode a bike. Nevertheless, opportunity was calling. Ryan's job was on the brink of a big, big change and we knew owning a home would not be part of the immediate future. So, we dried our tears and settled into our VERY TEMPORARY (we were sure of that) one bedroom apartment. Ryan geared up for the biggest interview of his life. We were sure this was it. This was what we had been waiting for for such a long time. We took some of the profits from the sale of the house and paid off every single debt we could think of. It felt so good to have no credit card debt. It took quite a bit of the profits, but we felt unburdened and free (and a little more broke). Ryan flew up for the interview and Joel and I waited at home with baited breath, praying all the way along. Meanwhile, the morning of Ryan's interview, I felt super sick. It wasn't just nerves either. Having been pregnant now six times, I knew exactly what the "feeling" was. I took a test and literally said, out loud, right there...."You have GOT to be kidding me." And then I laughed. Only the Withee Crew would sign a one year lease and five days later discover they are pregnant. I couldn't tell Ryan....this was the BIG interview. I couldn't distract him. I would have to sit on this news for a whole day till his interview was over. So, we waited. I called Ryan when I felt his interview was over and let him in on the news. We were happy...scared to death...but happy. We have been through this so many times, it takes time for the real joy to take over because the fear of loss is always right there at the back of our minds. Then, life got interesting. Not only did Ryan get a "no" on his big interview (which was devastating to all of us) but he got a "no" at his current job at the time, only four days later. It was a really rough couple of days. It was really hard to watch the man you love so very much feel so low. However, God was at work, even in the rough stuff. He had a new job all lined up within a week of all this difficulty. Ryan was so thankful and was excited once again and ready to go. He has always been more resilient than me. His new job is in Palm Harbor (for my far away readers, that is a good 45 minute drive from our little apartment). Meanwhile, we get the news that this new baby is a girl and a whole bunch of new emotions came rushing in. We had gender cupcakes made because we never did a gender reveal any of the other pregnancies, including Joel, so we decided to go for it this time. When Joel bit into that cupcake and it was pink...it was the strangest combination of joy and fear all at once. I had a dear friend who was the only person (outside of my family) brave enough to broach the question no one wanted to ask. "How are you doing emotionally knowing it is a girl. Does it remind you a lot of Hannah?" It meant so much for her to validate what I was feeling. How on earth was I going to register for girl gifts again? How was I going to get through a girl baby shower? How was I going to get ready for this baby when I had already done it once before? I was honest with her and with myself finally. "It's been hard", was about all I could say. Every ultrasound is part thrill of joy and part agony. It is for that reason that her middle name for sure will be Joy. She has been a complete surprise, a complete joy, a complete unexpected blessing in a time of intense emotional upheaval. She is that good and perfect gift that comes from the Father. As this pregnancy progressed, we realized that we really might be bringing home a fourth person to this 800 square feet of crazy apartment. Additionally, we never wanted Ryan to be far from his work (since he is the one who could be "called into work" and I have more set hours). So, even though we vowed never to own a home again, we set to work to buy a home....AGAIN. We looked at houses all over the county, dragging our poor realtor all over the place at all hours of the day. We saw nice houses and money pits, we saw cute backyards and jungles. We saw horrifying color schemes, stinky house smells, and scary neighborhoods. We saw "the perfect" house more than once. We put offer after offer out there only to be "scooped" by a better offer. We were starting to wonder it the right place was out there. Then, finally, we found the right place, for the right price, in the right location. We put an offer out there again...and finally someone chose us (over four other offers, I might add...which gave us a little peace that maybe this was the place God intended for us). Now comes the wait. In typical "Amy" style, the wait has me terrified. The fear overcomes me. How are we going to get together a down payment so fast? What if the seller changes their mind? What if we don't close on time? What if I have to go on bed rest with this baby like I did with Joel? How am I going to move and set up house-keeping while I am 8 months pregnant? How are we going to get all the stuff we need for this baby (we gave away every single baby thing we owned when we downsized to this apartment). But, I have to remember...in all the years we have been married, we have never done without and gone hungry. In fact, in all the years of being alive, I have never been in such a serious situation that I couldn't see how God was working it out in my family. We have had some "lean times", but we have never been homeless or hungry. Today, Ryan was driving home from work and coming off of Highway 19 (which is a harrowing experience any day of the week in my opinion anyways) and could not avoid some road debris. It ripped up the bottom of his car. So, I got the text: "I am having a problem with my car and am sitting at Perkins waiting for a tow truck. Can you come get me?" So, I drove to Perkins to find him. The tow hadn't arrived by the time I got there, so I took a seat across from him in a booth and had a mammoth muffin (I had my glucose test this morning, so hopefully I passed or that muffin was probably a bad choice). I shared with him my fears, especially now that we will have a very large car repair to pay for while also saving for the down payment on this new home. Suddenly, we found ourselves reliving some of the "tougher" things we had been through. Ryan reminded me of the summer after we had been married for a year when our landlord decided to sell his condo and we could either buy it for WAY more than we had or move. So, we had to chose to move. The down side is we had no place to move to. A coworker of mine was going "home" for the summer and let us live in his little RV (less than 400 square feet). So, we did. We spent two months in that tiny space (and caught H1N1 flu at the same time). BUT, we had a place to live, and summer jobs, and made it work. I should say, God made it work. We laughed till we cried remembering when we had the plumbing debacle of 2012 and Ryan found himself in our front yard, waist deep in unmentionable horror, replacing old plumbing pipe with a saint of a church member who came to save the day. We cried remembering how Ryan took a small hatchet and "dismantled" the above ground pool and had me help haul it out, piece by piece, to the front yard (I KNOW the neighbors thought we were getting divorced for sure...there was lots of "elevated stress levels" that night). We survived all that...maybe, just maybe, we can survive all this crazy we now find ourselves in. The waitress took pity on us and brought over a slice of pumpkin pie to go (on the house, probably because we looked so pitiful) and the tow truck came at long last. We went back to school, drove home, and collapsed on the couches in exhaustion. Even now, as I sit and write this and baby girl kicks and wiggles and moves non-stop (all the while the heartburn is wrecking my throat and stomach forever), I am reminded that I just don't know what surprises are around the next corner. I know WHO knows, and HE has never left me alone in my worry and fear. In fact, He invites me to give that over to Him. I am not sure why I love to hold onto it the way I do. I am not saying tomorrow I will be carefree and worry-free...but I am going to try. He knows what's coming next, and that is good because I could never have written this chapter of our story. I don't know if anyone would believe it if I wrote it all down. Well, you tell me...You've been reading it, can you believe it? No? Me either...but this is our life. It is crazy, wild, scary, amazing, exhilarating, never-boring life.

I Just Wanted To Rant....

I have been working really hard the last few weeks. I took a work related trip and so the prep to be gone from my classroom for 3 straight days about killed me, then I drove to Tallahassee to pick up my son, then drove home, then worked for a full week and ended this week being sick. So, needless to say, I have been so busy, I have hardly had time to think about my next meal, let alone to think about anything else. However, today, I finally got my little guy to go to bed early and I got my lesson plans for THIS coming week logged and emailed and my thoughts would not stop swirling. I am not a big "ranter and raver" but here are my top "things I rave about in my head but not out loud to anyone else ever." BATHING SUITS So today, in between morning church and evening church, J and I attempted to tackle the monumental task of hunting down a bathing suit for myself (or as J calls it..."baby's suit"). The last time I actually purchased a bathing suit for myself, it was two years ago and I was 5 dress sizes larger than I currently am. So, unless I wanted to start with a suit on and after diving in, find myself suddenly not wearing one....I needed to get one, and soon. What I discovered was the following: if you feel like going to the pool or beach in NOTHING at all, this is the year for you. The "bathing suits" I saw in the store were the same size as J's little Thomas the Train underwear! They came in all kinds of cute colors and prints (what little of them there were) but those are not for me, let me tell you. If you feel like you should cover yourself in some way, you are going to pay an arm and a leg for your swim suit and it will only come in two colors, black or neon pink. Additionally, the only swim suits in your size will look like 52, 000 people have already tried it on and found it wanting. Needless to say, I still have no swim suit. If you see a woman swimming in leggings and a t-shirt, that will be me. DIET PLANS I lost weight this year. I started the school year at my heaviest weight in my entire life. After a really unpleasant doctor's visit and not really being totally sure how to fix it, my hubby and I signed up for Weight Watchers. I was not totally sold on the idea, but I had watched it work for my mom so I decided it couldn't hurt. Do you want to know what I learned? I didn't have to "sell" Weight Watchers to ANYONE else! I didn't get kicked out of Weight Watchers or have to pay $25.00 more per month if 5 people didn't join and give my name as their "encourager." I joined for me! I joined for my husband and for our son and I joined so I could feel good shopping for clothes again. I joined so we could have more kids. I joined so I wouldn't cringe when the yearbook came out this year. You know what happened? People ASKED me how I was doing it! The lady in Anne Taylor Loft decided to join because I came out of the dressing room BEAMING because I was holding a pair of pants in a size that I had only ever seen with a 1 in front of the other number! You know what I pack to go on a trip? Clothes and that is all. I don't have to pack a blender, five pounds a shake mix, dehydrated fruits, or prepackaged meals (and those may work for you, but let me tell you it is freeing to sit down at any restaurant and find SOMETHING you can eat. Heck, I am going to Disney World next week and I am already thinking about one special "splurge" I plan on getting. I can do that...really, I can). I have discovered that my new "life" is just that, LIFE...it isn't a gimmick or a slogan or a pyramid scheme...it is me learning that food is not an enemy or a friend, it is just fuel. That makes me happy. It makes me even happier that I don't have to worry about who else joins...it it just WW and me and I love that. The creeps at the Library So, I stopped at the public library on my way home from work the other day. I have been on a quest for a book I can read to "relax." Being that I am a teacher, I am constantly reading works on history and biography to stay on top of exciting information to supplement my regular curriculum for my students (got to move "beyond" the textbook, ya know?). Anyhow, I sometimes like to kick back for 15 minutes or so, just to get my mind off work and ready to sleep, by reading some regular fiction. So, I stopped at the library to meet that need. There I am, wondering the shelves of the fiction section (which, may I remind everyone, contains ALL kinds of literature). So, from behind the shelf I am browsing comes this voice. "Oh, I see that romance book you are holding over there." I stop. How close is this guy looking because from my eyeline I see a mystery book about a guy in India. There is an elephant, a magnifying glass and a guy in a turban....not exactly Fabio here, am I right? I try to give one of those laughs that says, "Ok, thanks for trying to talk to me but you are odd and I just want to pick out a book, thanks." But he goes on about something else, still oblivious to the very obvious clues I am dropping like, I don't know, my walking up and down the shelves much more quickly, not making eye contact, the usual things someone does when running from the serial killer in the library. I blink and keep shopping for a book and then say, hoping he will leave, "Just looking for a book to keep me engaged." He leaps on that, "How can you forget you are married?" Oh brother! Finally, I look right at him, point a finger to my forehead and say, "keep my MIND engaged." I scurried off to the next shelf where OTHER people were and he thankfully found someone else to bother. Someday, in my perfect world, I am going to make a library where people always return their books on time, never creep on people in the aisles and never leave food stains on the best chapters of the books. There will be a policeman on duty at all times and the librarians will all be trained in the art of karate. Will you support my library fund someday? I guess that is all for tonight. I am sure I will think of more. Until then I will be shopping for swimsuits and buying books from regular bookstores, at least until I get my library idea up and running. If you know any librarians willing to learn karate or maybe are already skilled in that area, please give them my contact information. Until next time, XOXO, AMY

But If Not....

It is only three little words... But if not. You are the best readers in the world so I know you already know the story and the meaning behind those words. Three men, uncompromising men, faced with bending to a tyrant's psychopathic ego and a direct violation of their faith or certain painful, agonizing death. They chose to stand for what they knew was right and face the death. The source of the courage to stand--the unflinching belief that God would deliver them out of the king's hand, far from his fire-flamed wrath. BUT IF NOT...if for some reason the answer was no, if for some reason God allowed them to perish...still they would not bend. 2017 is still fresh. It is a mere 3 days old. Already, though, it has been a struggle. We have prayed. We have struggled. We have agonized. We have "what if'ed". Unforeseen troubles and tragedies and emergencies have filtered in quicker than we can respond. Still, the answers do not come. The answers are not a yes or a no....they are silence. In that silence, in that restlessness...I have to choose. I must choose, in the waiting, in the doubts that quickly swoop in during the quiet moments--I have to choose to trust in the same God...the God of the "but if not." I am not saying it is easy. There have been requests on my "list" since I placed my trust in Christ. Still, I wait. Not getting a "no"...but not getting a "yes". Sometimes, I feel the anxiousness begin to close in. Suffocating restlessness. In it all, I have to trust. The same God who chose to save a wicked wretch like me (I don't say that in jest...sometimes I marvel that He would even save me...ME...the unworthiest of them all) is the same God who delivered those Hebrew men so long ago. What is so hard for our 21st century minds to remember is that they did not know the end of the story. When they stood there, sweat probably beading on their brow (I mean, come on people, that room HAD to be hotter than Florida in August), they did not KNOW they would be delivered. They were trusting with all they had, WHILE AT THE SAME TIME, being "ok" with the alternative. We see the end of the story...but in their time, in their actual moment, they had no clue what the end would be. "But if not" just leaps off the page at me tonight. What if those things we have been praying for get a "no"? Am I ok with that? Am I willing to bend and say, "If it will bring YOU glory, I will do it, even though it is painful, even though it is really, really hard." There are a lot of things I am "waiting on." Some are personal, just known only to me and God. Some are family goals and dreams and things we have talked about and hoped for since we started dating. I couldn't begin to post about all the things we hope for...there is not enough storage space on my computer to type a document that big. God knows them all. The same God who delivered those men knows the recesses of my heart, the last of my dreams and hopes. He cares. I know He cares. He knows about those little pink outfits stored in my hope chest. He knows they have been there since 2012 and He knows how long they will sit there without someone to use them. He has watched each time I have given away little pink outfits to someone who really needs them and how it has been so hard to do that. He knows how many little pink outfits are left in that chest and how many we started with. He knows how hard we work to make a life for ourselves in the physical sense. He knows the hours upon hours my amazing husband works to provide for us. He knows the deepest dream of our family as a whole. He cares about it. He may make us wait. He may tell us "no" or "no, not right now." Even then, even in the "but not"...I will choose to trust. I will choose to wait. I choose joy in the waiting. Thanks for reading XOXO--Amy