Love notes.

Hello February and fresh starts! I love new beginnings and today is what I have termed it a "grace day" at my house because it's Monday and school was cancelled due to weather conditions here in Michigan. Instead of snowing, blowing and sub-zero temps, we instead have blue skies and sunshine! So it is simply a good day to relax, kick back, stay in pj's {we do that a lot in the winter around here!} and just enjoy this unexpected break in life.
To that end, I have decided that it was the perfect time to jump back on to my laptop and share a tiny bit of my heart. Okay. Maybe a bit more than just my heart, as I am feeling mixed emotions about sharing these photos and thoughts behind them. I think this month of February is a wonderful backdrop for me to post "love notes" to my kids and this blog has always been a spot for me to get things down and out and saved in a spot for future reference.
As much as I want to express my thought and heart toward my kids {my girls especially} I sort of believe that this is a message that others might need to hear too. If you can see past the images- which I didn't realize had so much to 'say' when I ordered prints of these photos, then maybe the true message can start to settle in.
I have been self-conscious about my body, shape, size and flaws since as long as I can recall, and yet even so I think there is such worthwhile lessons in embracing ourselves- just as we are and as God created us to be. He never makes mistakes or messes up- certainly not on people whom He loves so much! That is the heart of this scrap layout and if my kids realize I love them just as they are...then how much more must God love them too!
I am so humbled and blessed to be able to stand in front of a camera, snap a few photos and then be brave in sharing the struggle and beauty that comes from learning to love it all. He loves us in spite of all we will never be- none of us can measure up to perfection- and yet we are loved in spite of our failures, flaws, insecurities, pride, and His grace covers it all so that in His eyes we ARE perfectly whole because of who He is! His love never ceases to amaze me. His grace has changed me from inside-out and I hope that His love will be the one thing my kids seek more than anything else this world has to offer. There is nothing greater than knowing God's love firsthand. It is the greatest love of all!
The world tells us that things or being a certain size of having financial security or a job or spouse or house or degree or adventure or happiness or any other number of things will fill us up. But the truth is only God's love and grace can be enough to fill us with true peace, contentment, and assurance of Hope. To that end I pray that I will be a tool for Him to shine that message to my kids and anyone else who has ears and open heart to receive that message. He is Love and all we ever need!

A life interrupted.

All of a sudden six months have passed and really, if anyone is still stopping by at all that is a small miracle in and of itself for this blog. First of all, my apologies for NOT posting and sharing or at least putting up a graphic that says, "Nitty.Gritty.Out.To.Lunch." or something to indicate that I was still here. Just not "here".
I can tell you in the past several months there has been a lot of living going on in our life and family. So much so that I don't find or make time to blog like I want to or should. There has been a couple of birthdays. And preschool graduation. There was a new puppy...and a lot of fun and cute pictures with our sweet goldendoodle, Hazel. And then there was the tough decision to find her a new home after a week of Wyndham having such high anxiety over a puppy that she literally wouldn't eat. So Hazel got a new home. There were tears and life lessons and I could practically write a whole book on just that week in our life alone! Maybe one day I'll write that story.
In addition to puppy days there were days at the beach. And riding the one cent pony at the grocery store. There was a week of camp. And grandparents here from Michigan. There was Coke Float Day and maybe you got in on that with is- even if it was a virtual celebration. I could probably write a book about how Coke Float Day has evolved and become almost a summer holiday all its own. There have been parades and pool days and more days spent by the pool. There have been a couple of day trips to Chicago and days recovering from those days- which means catching up on laundry and sleeping in as late as we can.
Our summer has been full in so many ways. From fresh local produce- our favorites are the jumbo blueberries, cherries and peaches to gourmet cupcakes and walks to the park. There have been lots of days that felt like fall and only a handful that we needed to turn the A/C on- which is rare for where we live. There have been new friendships formed and new experiences- including Brock finishing driving school and getting his permit. There has been so much and yet really we have just so enjoyed "doing nothing" for nearly three full months. It has been a wonderful summer and we have one week left to enjoy it to the fullest.
So with all of that going on behind the scenes of Nitty.Gritty. it's no wonder there has been a quiet lull on this blog. But something else has happened. Something that stirred in me and brings me back to my laptop to click away and put my thoughts down in this place.
It's a book called, "Interrupted" by Jen Hatmaker. Maybe you have heard of her and/or her book. It is in easy to spot places like Barnes & Noble and you can pick up a copy right here online at Amazon too. I don't know Jen. I have heard her speak briefly at a weekend conference via satellite. But after reading this book I feel like I know a big part of her heart. She writes this book so authentically and candidly. I actually laughed outloud at times and that's not normally how I read books. I cruised through this book in a matter of two days- which also speaks to the readability of it. The way and they why she wrote this book so resonated with me and that is what made me want to dust off this blog and write again.
If you have followed Nitty.Gritty. for any length of time then you know full well that Chip and I have lived a life that was interrupted one Sunday during brunch. We recently marked thirteen years since that day happened and we are still learning lessons and living in light of so much of the events of that tragedy. I can't help but shake the feeling all these years later that there must be a big purpose or point to the pain and hurt behind our interruption. Knowing just how much God loves and cares and acts out of goodness and justice simply doesn't add up to the amount of pain and hurt we have endured. But we KNOW He is in it and over it all. So we have hung on and clung to His promise of faithfulness to us- even when we can't see or understand His ways in all the twists and turns at times.
Some of what Jen writes in this book touched on the parts of me where I still sense such a deep longing or where I just want to see the senseless parts of life make sense. She reminded me in sharing her own life journey that God CAN be trusted in all of it- to the point where we can literally pick up and start new again if we are putting all our trust in Him for what comes next.
We have been in places like that- even with our last two moves when we didn't know where we were going or what we were doing next. But God knew. And sometimes I think He leaves us hanging without a clue as to the next step to test us and see if we are willing to get out of the boat and follow Him. Not just with our words and rhetoric. But with our whole hearts and selves. It's easy to give money, or to raise a hand or nod approvingly to the sermon being preached in church. It's a whole other thing to get up and actually respond and do something. Especially something radical.
I have wrestled and prayed a lot since reading "Interrupted". It's one thing to read the book, but another thing to be moved. It's one thing to read the Bible, to know it, to study it, to love it, to lean on it, to believe in it, to turn to it, to memorize it and study it and share it. It's another thing to let it so penetrate your heart and mind that you are different each and every day because of the truth in its pages.
I have wondered and questioned why things have happened in our lives the way that they have- especially in regards to the move to Minnesota and back. It hasn't made sense in my practical and structure-loving mind. I have asked God to show me how or why or what to do as a result of this. I have opened my heart and soul for Him to use me- use our whole family here in any way that He feels led to do so. Sometimes I have felt like I missed the calling when I was single and more able to pack up and serve Him in Africa. Being a SAHM {stuck-at-home-mom as I refer to myself many times =) }in a mostly middle-class white America feels like a box- a very blessed and wonderful box, but a box just the same. I have wondered how God could use me or why He would need me here. This part of Jen's book made sense to me and makes me realize that no matter where we live or who we are or what we have to offer, God can use it all and He wants too. As long as we are willing to say 'yes' when our life gets interrupted.
"We have the privilege of serving Jesus Himself every time we feed a hungry belly, each moment we give dignity to someone who has none left, when we acknowledge the value of a convict because he [or she] (I added that pronoun) is a human being, when we share our extreme excess with those who have nothing, when we love the forsaken and remember the forgotten. Jesus is there."
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I still can't say that I fully understand or ever will fully understand how God wills, moves or works. But I am willing to open my heart to His ways and be moved as a result in every little or big way that I sense His call in my life. I am willing to be interrupted, inconvenienced, embarrassed, put on the spot, broken, and uncomfortable for the sake of His glory and kingdom. Not because I am worthy or great. But because of what He did for me on the cross. It's the least I can offer back to Him.

Not always "out with the old".

 

 

Hello to 2014 and a whole new year ahead of us, right?! As much as I don't like getting older, I do love the fresh start of a new year. Yes, I know that every morning is another new day, but a whole new year just feels big and the way it gets celebrated is a big deal sometimes too. It is nice to be able to look ahead and feel like there are endless possibilities, new dreams, adventures and joys to be discovered. I am ready for all of that and more.
Having just turned 41 a week and a half ago I am fully aware that there are things that need to be changed in me, moments that need to be grasped and savored, and some things that simply need to be accepted. I titled this not always out with the old, because the truth is old and used and the past can all be truly wonderful things too! I find that some of my quirks and old habits aren't so bad...they are simply "who I am", including things like embracing a trend like loving antlers and not letting that fade even after a year or more. My "birthday moose" arrived in the mail and it was the perfect timing for me to scrap a page about it with the first Cocoa Daisy kit of the year~ Blueprint. I loved everything about this kit and had so much fun making my pages and little mini book to be filled in as this month goes on. This kit and add-ons are now available for purchase and I can tell you that if you have thought about getting a monthly subscription, Cocoa Daisy is the place to get yours. The kits seem to get better and better, and I'm not even sure how that can happen! I just know I love to get my box of goodies in the mail and have never been disappointed, ever!
I am hoping to 'celebrate' the everyday even more than I have done in the past. Somedays it is easy to do that, and some days it is quite a chore! Last night, for New Year's Eve I was ready to sit home with our 6 kids as Chip worked the event hosted at his golf club. I knew if I went I would have to scramble to do extra things at home so that I could safely and happily leave the kids together while I tried to sneak away for a couple of hours. {Brock is 14 now and once the littlest guys were in jammies and tucked in bed I knew it wouldn't be too hard a job for him to hang out.} I knew Chip would be busy making sure everything was going smoothly and so I would end up 'alone' at times and honestly I don't know too many members of the club all that well yet. I also haven't had any reason to dress up and so I was dragging my feet about going to the party for all those reasons and more. I am the queen of making excuses to stay home. Just ask Chip. =)
Instead, at about 9pm I decided I was going to make it happen and at least go to the party for a short while. I had 2 choices of dresses and put this one on first. I figured it would be better to be overdressed than underdressed for a New Year's party. I was just surprised and happy that the dress still fit! I wore it twice back in 2001. For those who have followed this blog forever, you know that that was 4 babies ago for me...so it's practically a miracle that this dress still fits me! I could have used some different shoes, and I actually ended up shoveling snow in this dress and heels. But the night turned out to be a fun escape from my usual nightly routine and even though my feet are a bit sore from late-night dancing, it was good to spend time together with Chip- even if he was "working".
Between antlers and scrapping and wearing an old dress, I am feeling good about what this new year holds. We went through so much change the past few years that it feels exciting to just settle down a bit more and see what a year can hold when there {hopefully} won't be changes and transitions in houses and schools and jobs. I have to say there is something wonderful about things staying the same too. Especially when you realize how good it is. Here's to 2014 and everything it holds- old, new and maybe another night out dancing before the year's end too! =)

The moments that matter most.

Wow. So many thoughts and emotions going on in my heart and mind today, that I just need to put them down somewhere. This is my outlet~ my mother's heart that has never stopped beating even when this world broke it in two.
This note flows out of that brokenness. It flows from the place in me where I can still 'see, feel and recall' the brokenness in such detail all these years later. It flows from the heartache an empathy I am feeling for the families in Newtown, CT who are re-living their pain and nightmare on this anniversary eve of the loss of their own little ones. It is spilling out from the goosebumps I got as I read the text from a dear friend who is headed to the ICU to quite possibly say her final goodbye to a special little girl even as I type this out.
Life is cruel and cold at times, and my own experiences have softened me toward other broken hearts in this world. When I hear of other hurting hearts, my own heart remembers a time and details that have yet to fade year after year. 
The details of Teagan's final days and moments are etched on my heart and mind forever. The littlest moments were elevated to some of my most precious memories in light of her loss. It is those moments that matter most. The moments that we all have with our loved ones every single day. But for some reason, we don't hardly recognize their greatness or worth. Often times we even get annoyed by them, or frustrated and worn down. By their timing, and their frequency- by their 'mundaneness' among all the long to-do list we all have every day. These moments are the ones I cherish the most. Yet I STILL take them or granted far too often, even after learning the lesson of their value and worth having been schooled by sudden loss, heartache and grief. 
They are moments we all have with the people around us. We sit down at a meal and eat together. Do we listen and laugh? Do we care about the smallest accomplishments our children or spouses have made that day? Do we see how sweet their tired eyes are as they wake to another day...another good morning hug...another bowl of Frosted Flakes? Do we have any idea how special it is that we can hug them and hold them in our arms? Do we study the color of their eyes? Do we tell them how much we love them- even if we are all running late and we can't find the cellphone or keys? 
I can remember sharing the last bowl of tapioca with Teagan on the night before our incident. She was delighted over a bowl of warm tapioca. She and I sat at her small table and talked about how much we both loved real whipped cream. The earth didn't shake. The mountains didn't tremble. But it was a moment I will never forget. There was love and innocence in that time and place. There were dreams to be chased and more dancing to do when we were done! There was no reason to believe that moments like this weren't going to last forever. Hours later I would wake her up from her cozy night of sleep and help her get dressed and brush her hair and tie a ribbon in it one last time. The details were about to change. Forever.
Some days I mess it all up. I hurt from missing Teagan. I hurt because I miss the sound of her voice- her joy and delight over the littlest things. Sometimes I miss her so much that the people around me wonder what they did to make me mad. They wonder what they could do different to make me smile. Some days I wake up so sure that it must have been a dream, but it's real every day. Some days the strength comes and my heart and eyes re-open to beauty, happiness and joy. I am reminded of the details that I cling to and they make me want to love more, live more and try to be better- even with a broken heart.
I write this as I sit at the little table where Teagan and I shared countless meals and that last bowl of tapioca. I haven't ever been able to part with it {plus all the other kids have used it countless times too for the very things Teagan loved and used it for- playing Playdough, coloring pages, eating meals and snacks and hosting tea parties at it too} and I love being able to have a tangible remembrance of those special times spent with her. I am thankful for all the new memories made at this table, and I am grateful that broken hearts heal little by little. I am reminded again as I my heart weighs heavy for others facing grief and sorrow and heartbreak this Christmastime, that each and every moment is a gift. Every detail a blessing. The smallest moments blur together and get lost even more so this time of year. But if even for a moment we open our eyes to them and see their true worth, we will hold a priceless treasure in our hearts forever.

The day that Daddy came back.

 

It's 3:47am. I am blogging. That means a couple of things are going on. One is that I am awake and my mind is spinning. The other thing is that the house is quiet and calm because everyone else is sleeping. I guess this is the only time I have available to blog in my life as there is never a dull moment in my day. This also explains the lack of posts. I am usually asleep at this time of the night. I already know I am going to regret being up right now and doing this, even in just 4 hours or so. But I am here for now. So I will squeeze in as much as I can- even though the past few weeks in the life of the Ferlaaks deserves it's own book. It's been that wild and crazy!
But even a tad fun.
And a whole lot of amazing.
And that is why my head is spinning and I am here typing.
Sometimes life gets going. Going in a certain direction. Other times it just stands still. And it drags. Or just is. Still at other times life starts moving, and I can tell something is up. I might not always know why or what or how come, but there's a feeling that something is going on.
That is what I write of today.

To do so, I need to finish a blogpost that I started a couple of weeks ago, and never got around to finishing, much less posting. It was a typical summer morning. Chip got up, showered and was saying his goodbyes for the day. The kids aren't always awake. At least not all of them. And sometimes some are eating breakfast and playing on the iPads and Chip and I have yet to get up. We're all over the place with our schedule in the summer. We like late nights {not normally as late as the one I am having right now!} and long mornings. We have very little on our agendas. Except to say goodbye and give Daddy hugs and kisses before he leaves for work.
This particular morning Chip was saying his goodbyes and as he did I could just begin to hear Teague start to fuss in his bedroom. He still sleeps in a crib {he just turned 3 and we love that he loves his crib and stays put in there!} and so someone has to come and get him out each morning. He got a bit louder just as Chip was putting his hand on the doorknob to leave, and I looked at Chip and said, "Go now so Teague won't have a meltdown saying goodbye". That's what Teague does.
He loves his daddy. He loves his dad a whole lot. With Chip's long hours at work in the summer, sometimes we don't see him a whole lot. So when Chip leaves, Teague cries. And throws a fit on the front step. Then Chip leaves and feels guilty. And I am left with a little guy doing limp body and fussing in the front step for several minutes some mornings. It makes me want to drink more coffee. That's what was ahead of us if Chip stuck around while I got Teague up, so instead Chip quickly left, and I went to go get Teague out of his bed. He started to fuss louder when I got him out. I gave him some morning hugs and kisses. But he just put on his best pouty face and started crying. "Do you want some orange juice, Teague?" "Do you want your little lamby and yellow blankie?" I started asking questions. "Calm down, mister...it's morning time and we get to have a fun day!" This is what I was saying to him as his crying started to get louder and louder. The other kids had joined my question party by this time and they were all using their "happy voices" wishing him a good morning and offering kisses and other ideas like toaster waffles.
Nothing was working.
I just held him for a minute longer. He kept on crying. I asked him to "use your words" and tell Mommy what's wrong. His crying finally got quieter, and he looked right at me and said, "I wanted to give Daddy a kiss."
My heart basically melted.
He had been listening to the other kids say their goodbyes, and he had no way of getting in on the hugs and kisses and send-off. I was happy to finally know that there actually was a "real problem" and my "real solution" was that we could call Daddy on his phone and say good morning and goodbye all at once. I took Teague to the kitchen to get my phone and I told him my plan. I dialed Chip and he answered. Which I typically don't like him to do if he's in a car. "What's up?" he asked. He never knows what to expect when I call him. I don't do it often, but there's always a 50/50 that it's a good or bad thing. I said, "Teague was just waking up when you left and he is so upset that he didn't get to hug you goodbye." I fully expected Chip to say, "Put him on and I'll talk to him for a minute." Instead, Chip said, "I'm on my way home."
I was more than a bit surprised. Chip has a lot on his plate in life and at work these days. Several minutes had gone by since he had left home, so this wasn't just a quick turn around at the end of the block. I set the phone down and Teague just about had another meltdown right then and there. I grabbed his little hand and said, "come outside on the front step...Mommy wants you to get a surprise!" Kids love surprises, but not so much when they are just coming off of a meltdown and the drama of crying for the first several minutes of their day.
We sat on the front step. Brock joined us. We looked at the sky. We listened to a couple of birds. We saw the grass. And flowers. It must have felt to Teague as though I was the biggest phony surprise thrower of all time. At one point I finally told him to be quiet and listen. I could hear Chip's car coming down the street. Teague was on my lap on the front step clueless that his morning wish was about to come true!
I think Teague was about to start crying all over again when I told him to look down the street as far as he could to see if he could see anything. Brock was starting to grin at this point. And a few seconds later Chip's vehicle pulled back into our driveway. "Daddy's home!! Daddy came back! It's Daddy!"

Teague was so excited. I am getting a knot in my throat right now even as I type it out, because it was a truly magical moment. My little clueless, upset two-year old {at that time} suddenly had his whole morning turned around. His little heartbroken request that he had finally spilled out to me when "he used his words" hadn't just been a cry of hurt and disgust that fell on deaf ears. Instead, his cry had been heard, and more than loud and clear, his heartbreak at not being able to say goodbye and give a hug had turned to complete and utter joy at the surprise return from Chip coming back to more than meet his need.
I actually caught part of the whole scene on one of our iPad cameras. I snapped the picture in this post of Teague and Daddy together for that brief couple of moments that morning too, and those smiles are the real deal! Teague's fussing was so quickly forgotten and his tiny arms wrapped so tight around his dad and the 'drama' of our morning up to that point all melted into a beautiful embrace. I was so happy for Teague.
I was so proud of Chip and my heart melted at just how big his heart is at times too. He chose to come home, when a simple hello on the phone would have salvaged a part of Teague's hurt. He went beyond what he needed to do and it blew me and Teague away. The whole scene has played over and over in my mind the past few weeks.
It is so late and I am so tired, and there is so much more to this story. The part about how that picture in my mind so parallels what God has been doing in my heart and life too. It's been unfolding for months. Years, I believe.
God has been up to something.
I've been in a place where the only way 'out' {like Teague in his crib} was going to happen when God chose to get me out. I needed my Father to pick me up and open a door. I was kicking and crying, and even though I could have had a toaster waffle or juice or any number of things to bring me happiness, all the while He had a plan to bring me more than that. He has been up to something for awhile now. And I couldn't see it, hear it, or have a clue what it was. Just as Teague had no clue Chip was already on his way home with a big hug and kiss waiting for him on arrival.
He could have settled for a quick phonecall and chat with Daddy. But Chip had a better idea. And even though it temporarily broke Teague's heart for me to not let him talk on the phone, or even tell him that Daddy was coming home, I knew it was going to be a wonderful and even better surprise in the end.
I knew it would be worth Teague's confusion as he waited on a front step without a clue. I knew it would be more than worth it for him to see that Chip drove back home just to see him! I knew it was going to make the tears of the morning literally disappear. His sorrow would be turned to joy, and it was! Teague's whole morning was made!

My heart has been so hurt for a long time for many different reasons. Some days I haven't had a clue as to how life has played out the way it has for us. But for some reason- as reason I still don't know or understand- in the past few weeks too many things have happened that make me literally see God's hand in life's details. It has been wonderful. It has been amazing at times. It has been fun even! My heart has felt happiness in the truest sense of the word. Our house sold. A new one just happened to fall into place for us. At just the right place. At just the perfect time.
Chip and I somehow managed to go out on a date together. It has been more than a year since we have done that. And we didn't just get a date. We took a whole day trip together. And nothing went 'wrong' the whole day. In spite of the downpour we got stuck in as we walked from Navy Pier in Chicago to Millenium Park. We laughed together. We enjoyed each other. We had actual conversations. About things other than kids or work. There has been so much going on in the past few weeks that my head is still spinning and we still have a move ahead of us this coming Tuesday. I should be overwhelmed. I should be freaking out. I should be asking myself how on earth is everything going to get done that needs to get done?!
Instead I am blogging. I am doing something I rarely get a chance to do anymore. I needed to write. I needed to come here and tell the world that God is amazing. Even when we can't see Him or feel Him or have a clue if He is even listening to our fussing and cries. I want to assure myself and whomever else reads here that He is. He is real. He gives life to dry bones. He longs to do good things in the hearts and lives of those who love Him. He is trustworthy. He is faithful. He is good and kind and fun even! He is a God who listens, who loves, who makes time for us, who knows better than we know ourselves just how to fill our lives with goodness and joy.
I don't know if Teague even remembers the day that Daddy came back. But one day, maybe one day when all the world has let him down or life is threatening to steal his joy, I want to remind him of this story. That really happened. That was so beautiful and pure and true that it will hopefully stir in his heart a little something that makes him want to be a better person and believe in goodness and Love again.
I have sometimes wondered. I have doubted far too many times in my life.
I am ashamed because I have known since I was about Teague's size that I love a God who is bigger and more powerful than any mind can comprehend. Yet still my trust has worn thin at times and I have wondered if my prayers have even been heard.
He has heard every one. He has a plan to meet every need. His plans are good. His ways are higher. I am humbled and honored to give all my praise to Jesus, my Lord. I don't know what lies just ahead in this next adventure in life. I am just so thankful that I never need to doubt or wonder if God is real. He is. And He is so Good. He is so Good to me.

Coke Float Day. Then and Now.

It was an amazing day yesterday on many levels. Life has so many ups and downs and twists and turns. Sometimes several rollercoaster rides occur even before noon around our house! It is a tricky thing to find some sort of balance, but never more so than when it comes to grief and living with the loss of loved one, and holding onto those memories, but not letting them suck the joy out of the life you still live even though they're gone. We've been riding this coaster for years now and it is still a process of growing and learning for me. I think it always will be.
So yesterday was a special day for our family. It has been an extra special day since June 30, 2001. That was the day that Coke Float Day was set in motion. We just wouldn't know that until a year later when we made it official. Here is the story behind the original photo of Chip and Teagan. It was 11:00 at night and Teagan always stayed up late to have her Daddy time. She was a Daddy's girl through and through and a night owl too, which was a lucky thing for both of them because he worked late and long hours especially in the summertime. But she still had energy to dance and laugh and listen to Larry Lizard stories with Chip at bedtime. This night Chip came in, changed clothes and grabbed a cold can of Coke out of the refrigerator. Teagan was right on his heels. She wanted some pop too. "Please, Daddy?!" and those big blue eyes! How could a daddy who had spent his day with golfers coming in and out of the Pro Shop, say no to cute, big blues eyes like that...and a beckoning smile to go along with them? Well, the answer is that he couldn't. Not that night anyway. I was ready to crawl into bed, exhausted from home keeping and taking care of Teagan {4}, Brock {2} and Wyndham {just 6 months old} at that time. I wanted no part of Teagan drinking a sugary, caffeinated cola at that hour, I do remember that. However, not that many months earlier we had lived through the scare of our lifetime when Wyndham was just 3 weeks old and having trouble breathing and eating. I had found her turning blue and called 911- this after she had visited the ER 3 times already. Her subsequent trip by helicopter downstate to Hurley Hospital turned into a 5 day stay where the doctors had saved her life and we had been given a second chance at happiness with 3 small children again. Chip and I knew we had brushed death with Wyndham and that incident had given us a new perspective on life. Even when it was 11 o'clock and kids should be tucked into bed by that time of the night! In light of our heightened appreciation for the moments we had with our kids and how precious even the tired moments could be, we did something a little different that night.
Instead of me rolling my eyes and getting upset with Teagan for not wanting to settle in for the night or me grumbling at Chip that he should have waited to open his soda after she was in bed, I went to the cupboard and pulled out a couple of malt glasses. I pulled some vanilla ice cream from the freezer and the next thing you know happiness and delight filled the kitchen as Teagan realized she and Daddy were having a special date night and on the menu were Coke Floats! I remember her smiles and excitement so clearly. She had a way of lighting up a room and add a Coke Float and let's just say the happiness was palpable. Teagan and Daddy sat at her little table; I grabbed the camera. I had no idea that snapping a couple of photos of this simple moment in time was going to turn into anything bigger than the feeling we had of goodness and happiness at that shared moment in time. I knew I was happy that we were ending the day on a positive note. I was thankful for how we were living with intention about making the most of the time with our kids- which is why we were sipping Coke floats at such a late hour. I was glad to know that whatever I had done "wrong" that day as a mom was forgiven with such  ease as making a sweet bedtime treat. My heart was full that night knowing I had done something right and it was so well-received.
I couldn't have known that those few moments in the kitchen would turn into a memorial day for our family. I never dreamed that something as simple as a late-night Coke float would be one of the tickets our family has needed and used year after year, on which to build new happy memories and pull ourselves from the pit of sorrow that consumed us when Teagan died so suddenly exactly one month to that day later. I have written about how I was glad I didn't know what our future held for Teagan and our family back then. It most certainly would have brought dread into moments like these that we did have with Teagan in her final days on earth. We didn't know then, but we know now.
We know now that life is even more precious than we realized it was back then. We have learned that life is a gift every single day. We have learned that life with a Teagan-sized hole in our hearts can never be filled, but it can be recalled and celebrated and still enjoyed.
Anyone who has lost a loved one can tell you just how hard the first year is- every big and little thing that you miss about your loved one is magnified and the loss is felt in new ways over and over and over again until you feel you will run out of tears from all the sorrowing. The ache grows bigger and the hole feels larger as the reality takes hold and grips your heart and mind. Teagan was never coming back. She would never hug us or laugh or sing and play with us again. She would never stay up late and sleep in til noon. She was simply going to be missed. Every single day of the life we had left without her. That reality filled my heart and life with dread so many times. I have written about how I grieved her so much as I just tried to wash and fold a load of whites and her days of the week underwear were no longer in the pile to be folded. I spent hours looking through photo albums of the life we had shared with her and luckily captured on film too. The date stamped on the corner of those pictures sometimes just made my heart ache more. It was so stark in front of me that her life and come and gone and things we had loved and laughed and enjoyed with Teagan became a list of things in my heart I never wanted to do again because they would only make me miss her more and hate the reality of the life we were handed when she died.
As I flipped through the photo album and came upon pictures like Coke floats with her my heart ached. But I also had learned that hard lesson before she was gone that these kind of moments were so precious and the very things we wanted to enjoy in life! I knew in my heart that as much as my grief wanted to drown me and steal all the joy life held that I couldn't let that happen. And not because of me, but because I was still wanting to give Brock and Wyndham the life I had wanted to share with them and Teagan before she was gone. I knew that striking all the fun, happy things out of our life because they caused pain wasn't going to bring me more happiness, but instead they would bring more sorrow. More hurt.
That is how Coke Float Day was born. It didn't come from a family looking to be an inspiration to anyone. It didn't come from Chip and Jody thinking we could turn something so hurtful in our lives into a day of laughter, fun and special memories. It was born out of a sorrowing that hurt so deeply that we didn't want the pain to cut any further, so we looked for ways to make it stop. Even for moments at a time.
This year Coke Float Day was our most amazing one yet. With the ease of social media, like Face Book, it was simple for us to spread the word of our family's tradition of this day with others. Chip's golf club sent out a notice to all their pool and golf members that they could come to the club and enjoy a Coke Float in honor of Teagan's memory. I sent out an invitation to everyone of my friends on FB and gave a head's up about remembering to add soda pop and vanilla ice cream to their grocery lists. Our family spent most of the day at the club pool. We ate cheeseburgers and fries and drank our floats out of plastic cups. They were creamy and delicious. The sun was shining. The sky was blue. We were all healthy and happy. Watching other people walk up to the food service window and walk away with a Coke Float and a big smile on their face made my heart swell. Not in a prideful way at all. But in the bittersweet, humble way recognizing how God heals wounds in time and so painstakingly hard at times, but seeing the depth of our sorrow now putting joy and happiness on the faces and in the hearts of others brought me to tears. This time the tears on Coke Float Day flowed not out of pity or hurt our heartache, but out of the joy that I was glimpsing the way that God does make all things new. He has turned our sorrow to joy in even small ways. I sometimes don't see the joy or feel it long or hard enough. But I glimpsed it and tasted it yesterday. It was in the skip of a little red-haired girl in a yellow polka-dot swim suit. It was in the frothy mustache dripping down my own Teague's chin as he sipped his float. It was in the photos and notes and kind words shared by hundreds of our friends on Face Book yesterday. Each time we were tagged in some way I knew it was God letting us know that although this journey has, and continues to be long and hard, we are not alone. He is there. Friends are there. Strangers are there. Love is there. Teagan's memory lives on. Her life still brings joy to the lives and hearts of people around the world. Then and Now. My heart is blessed to know that although her days were short, her love and joy were so big that they still reach others. That is a gift that only comes from God. Teagan was and always will be our extra special gift!

When there is no love.

 

 

I'll be honest. There is a lot of stuff going on in the world and nothing grabs my attention more than news stories where everyone is minding their own business and trying to just enjoy their corner of the world, or partaking in something fun or beautiful, when suddenly their lives are forever changed by something horrible. I feel their pain on a very real level and know what grief and healing and finding a "new normal" means. Since the most recent bombing at the Boston Marathon, I have lifted prayers for the victims and their families a number of times in just the past two days. It is heartbreaking and it is a jolt back to reality that none of us knows how much time we have on this earth and that we need to make the most of each day we are given.
I have been struggling with the move back here to Michigan- away from family and many new friends. It has been an unreasonably long, cold winter, and the gloom of cold dark days lingers even now. We have had our snow melt away, and the temperatures are starting to climb, but between the news stories, this move, the long winter and all that goes into that, I am so, so ready for sunshine and fresh air again. I am ready for new growth and new life. Literally and figuratively.
I am almost embarrassed to say that one of the things I am struggling with in the move back to our home is our yard. It seems such a trite thing in the scheme of things, but it is something that in the past we put a lot of time and effort and energy into. We use our yard so much and love to be outside, but as the snow has melted away it has only revealed just how awful our yard turned in just one summer's time of neglect. Last year happened to be a dreadful summer- between the high heat and the lack of rain- that our yard just couldn't sustain itself with no tennants. We moved back in November and I knew it was going to be dead this spring. But I didn't realize just how "dead" it was going to be. The top photo is from a couple of summer's back. The next two pictures are of our house yesterday. Even though the sky was blue, the photos speak for themselves. Chip- my eternal optimist husband- says it will be back and better than ever by June 1. I am more reserved in my support of that thought and would be happy if we just had a thin layer of grass sprouting back by then. The whole yard and landscape have to be redone.
It has opened my eyes to the fact that "good" doesn't just grow. Weeds grow. Good dies. Green turns brown and dried in a hurry of it's not watered and nutured and cared for properly. I can't help but tie my thoughts of the dead, lifeless wreck of a yard to the events of Boston and how tragic that situation turned out. All the good people who worked and trained so hard for that marathon. All the years of the race being one of the most sought after to run in and with such a repuation that people come from miles around the world just to be in that place. And within seconds, that turned to tragedy and carnage and people will live with the horrible images and physical pains and some with grief from the death of a loved one, all because someone chose evil over love. When love is absent, there is darkness, hopelessness, despair and evil. I am sorrowed and saddened that such acts exist in our world that can rip lives apart in the blink of an eye. Through no fault of their own, people now will love with the heartache of such acts. I wish they could turn back the clock. I wish we could erase the last 48 hours and write a different ending.
But there is no chance of that- so everyone moves forward. I have found that moving forward in life sometimes means having to go places you'd rather not. Or leave places you wish you could have stayed. Or simply wait it out and hold out hope for brighter days. But just as our yard looks dry and dead and barren, I choose to believe {and hold out great hope!} that Chip is right and that new green growth is mere weeks away. I choose to believe with time and effort and energy poured into our yard it will look as good or maybe even better than it did before. Is it going to be easy? No. Is it going to take time? Yes. Is it going to be worth the investment? I sure hope so.
To those touched by life's heartaches- wherever you may be- I hope you choose to love, to believe in brighter days; to hold out hope and to always keep the faith. We may not know why there are times or places or hardships in our lives at times, but we can always pour ourselves into giving it our all and for sure, to always love. It makes the biggest difference of all.

Behind the scenes.

I talk about keeping it real around here. Sometimes I have gotten 'in trouble' or scolded for doing that too outright. Even my own husband has said to me a time or two, "You didn't need to blog that!" In the past couple of years, I have had so many times words or pictures or both were on my heart. But I just couldn't bring myself to share them- for so many different reasons. Sometimes the overwhelming stuff in life is just that. Overwhelming. My outlet in life since I was a little kid was to write. To get it out. To put it down on paper. To put words to the ache or happiness or searching that was in my soul. I sometimes wish that blogs had been around when I was 12. And 13. And 14 too. Up til now. I wrote so much and sometimes I come across little poems or journals that I kept all these years and sometimes my words hit me in new ways or show me a glimpse of who I was way back then. It's amazing to me how powerful words can be.
So much so that I don't even know how to type them out in the way I feel I need to just to 'say it right'. Or to say it 'wrong' but at least it's out and I can process it and move through those feelings. This is one of those posts. Where something has been on my heart, but it's hard for me to put it into words. In part that hppens because this blog has touched a lot of people, and in so doing, there have been some who have responded in hurtful or even unintentional ways, which have made me more guarded in what I do share. And also in how I share it. Even though this is my personal space to write or share whatever. I know that words and pictures impact people. And stir things in others. Sometimes we're on such different 'planes' or simply can't begin to out ourselves in someone else's shoes, and so the message comes across all wrong. I get that. I get it to the degree that it affects what I share and how I share it.
But this thing- this longing in me to share whatever it is that presses on my heart for unknown reasons to me- is so great that it urges me to share. Even if I get misunderstood. Even if it makes no sense to anyone else but me, and even if it means nothing else to anyone. To think that maybe it DOES mean something, or maybe it can touch someone else, or shed some light, connect my heart to another, that is reason enough to share.
Maybe I didn't even need to write all that out. I sometimes feel the need to explain why I blog. I guess that is my issue and I should work on that. =) Today I just want to share some behind-the-scenes pictures that took on a whole new look to me in light of some of the trials I have been feeling and going through in life right now. Going through some tough daily routines in a place where I'd rather not be right now has been a big struggle. My heart has been so heavy, my days have felt long and pointless so many days in a row. Still I believe that there is a point to it all. I believe I am lucky to have some amazing people in my life- close up and far away. I am lucky to know and love and believe in a God who doesn't waste a single struggle in our lives when we are willing to look to Him to make something beautiful out of it all. I am seeking to see the beauty in the process. Even when it is overwhelming, all-consuming, not-so-easy, and harder than it seems it should be at times.
Our family went to a local beach on Lake Michigan at the beginning of December. We wanted to capture some family pictures and let me tell you, it is no small feat to do such a thing with just the number of people we have to get in one spot. We knew the boys would be okay, because Chip had taken them to walk along the beach a couple of times prior to this picture-taking event. We knew we were going to be lucky to get even one picture together, and my expectations were very low as to even how that photo might turn out. I simply wanted us all in one frame together. I wasn't remotely concerned about smiles or eyes shut or any of that. Just get us together and hopefully, some of us would even have a bit of fun out on the beach at the same time. That was my goal.
To pull it off though, as small as that goal was, took a whole lot of effort. Just getting everyone dressed and into the van and then up on the sand dune for the attempted photo was a major effort. The wind was blowing fierce that day, even though the temperature {for Decemeber!} was a balmy 50 degrees. The boys wanted to run one direction and climb and have fun. I wanted that for them too. We didn't tell them, "it's time to take pictures!" but instead slowly gathered us all to one spot and had our friend keep snapping frames the whole time. It's those behind-the-scenes pictures to me that tell a more true story. The airbrushed, over-edited, Photoshopped pictures are the ones we see in the media all the time. But the truth, more often than not, is that in real life the 'pictures' are rarely posed or neat the way we think they always are. I think one of my struggles has been falling into that comparison trap where what we see around us or as we look at the lives of others we think things are neater or simpler or easier or 10 lbs lighter than they are. the fact is life is alot more messy than that.
Marriage is hard!
Kids are hard!
Gas prices go up...salaries don't rise at the same rate!
Sometimes prayers get prayed and the answers don't come!
Winds blow.
Rains fall.
Burdens get heavier.
Smiles get hard to capture all in one frame.
Getting the 'perfect picture' takes a lot of energy, time, bribing with tiny boxes of raisins, carrying others up sandy dunes, and even then you're not guaranteed a good shot. Much less a great or perfect shot!
Therein lies my struggle. That battle or tension that no matter how good the intentions or efforts or cause, the result might fall far short.
But I am slowly learning and keep repeating to myself that no matter what the results, it is always worth the effort to try. And not to simply just get though it, but to actually put my best foot forward. That is easier said than done! It's never what it appears to be, but even as I look back and as I look ahead, filled with questions and wondering if it even matters, I know that there is coming a day when the purpose and point of all the tough scenes we've lived in life will be so clear. And not only clear, but they will be redeemed too. That is enough to keep me going. No matter how hard the winds blow. No matter how heavy the load gets. I want to be able to see the picture as it was meant to be seen- from glory's vantage point. By His grace, that day is coming and oh what a day that will be.

Learn new things.

It's February and I am sitting at home with three kids on this Friday, while the other three are at school learning new things. It's wintery and snowy outside, and I was out for a bit shoveling a small snowbank away from our mailbox in hopes that the mail carrier will actually stop at our box today. When I came in, I was chilled, of course. But after a quick warm-up it seems to be the perfect kind of day to learn something new myself.

As I think about all that has happened in the span of a year in my life, it is exhausting and certainly had its crazy parts. When I think of the demands I have on me each day, simply as a wife and mother of 6 kids with lots of needs, it can tire me out too. Top it off with a heart that has yet to embrace living where we do and feeling a lack of purpose to it all, and well, it just seems even more important and maybe even necessary for me to try new things. It is the idea of my word, soar, that helps push me to want more out of life too.

I have fought to find purpose and meaning in life for years and years now. And although I turned 40 and that in itself should indicate I should know what I am here for by now, it is still something I am seeking after all these years.

So in the quiet, and in the wait, and in this in between time where I find myself asking again, 'what am I doing and why', it is nice to give myself the space to just be still. And learn new things. Like crochet. I am thankful for my dear friend who literally helped 'hook me up' with this new venture. I am thankul for friends who care about me during the not-so-exciting times of my life. I am grateful that there are ebbs and flows in life that give us hope that there is something in the works yet to come. Today I wait, wonder, and yarn over and let my thoughts turn to what it is. I love quiet days...filled with Hope.

A little book about YOU.

 

I have a friend named Sarah. Sarah has a couple of doggies in her family. One of them is a Boston/Pug and I am always gushing over his pictures when I see them in her Facebook feed. I asked her if I could scrap some of the pictures she has posted of them. She said, "yes".
That was several months ago. Just before we found out we had to move out of the rental house we were living in. It was before my life got extra crazy and I was well into enjoying my 'free time' by scrapping and making stuff with paper and other bits and pieces that come in my mail each month from Cocoa Daisy.
I had such great intentions to create a little book with the puppy pictures I had received the blessing to scrap. Flash forward all these many months later, and when my February kit- Double Feature arrived and I opened it up, I instinctively knew that this was the time to put together the book I had been longing to create. The kit is live for purchase tomorrow if there are any still available. Each month the kits and add-ons have been selling faster and faster. I know that Christine {my friend and owner of the awesome Cocoa Daisy kits!} is upping the number available as of next month. So there is hope you can get in on it then- if you miss out this time. Or you can become a subscriber and know that one kit will be headed your way each month, if you are into that and I can attest to how great the kits are- each and every month!
So there's that bit of inside info for my scrap readers here.
A bit more about the book I made. There is a tutorial I posted about some of the process of creating it on the Cocoa Daisy blog here. This is a link to the book in my gallery where you can click through the pages and see them enlarged and in greater detail if you like to see them that way here.
The story behind the text of the book, "You" is that as I thumbed through the pictures I wanted to tell a story and not just scrap cute photos. I used the images to sort of 'guide the storyline', but the truth is the statements and messages along with the photos are something I wanted to share with my friend, and it is so fitting for my kids, and I think it is a message for anyone who reads it. It's as much for me as it is for anyone else too.
It is hard to hear the 'truth' about us at times. It is hard to grow up and live in this big world of ours and find our way, or just be still when it is time to do that too. I am still learning. Still growing. Still hiding in corners so many days at a time, and still trying to believe in the fact that I have so much to offer. That is the message I wanted to send. Loud and clear.
And yet in a subtle, adorable, scrapping, unimposing sort of way. That is how this book of "YOU" was born. I hope it speaks to your eyes, your heart, or to whatever other part of you is open to receive its message. And if you take nothing away from it except one thing, I hope it is this:
You are loved. xo
YOU
You come into the world tiny, soft and full of needs.
There is much to learn.
You will have days filled with play, curiosity and wonder.
Other times you will have days that just wear you out.
You might even feel like hiding in a corner.
You might feel like finding a cozy spot... and let the world simply pass you by.
But always know that you are special.
Adorable.
And loved more than you can possibly know or feel.
Putting on a special shirt or tie, or a favorite pair of shoes can bring out the spunk in you.
But the truth is that you don't need anything extra to make you a better you.
I love you... & the world shines brighter just because you're in it.
Yes.
You.

The rising.

One of the wonderful parts about being a scrapper is that it makes it very much "okay" {not that anyone ever needs an excuse!} to go through photos, sift through memories, take lots of pictures, and hold onto mooments we might ordinarily miss in the busy, routine-ness of our days. I learned so much after Teagan's first year of life, just how quickly those days and moments fly by. So I had gotten better at grabbing my camera and snapping everyday moments during her second year and moreso as her baby brother, Brock, made his appearance in our lives.
Today I pulled out a small tote of photos and even just thumbing through a couple of sleeves of pictures I was taken back and reminded of some of the beautiful times I was lucky to have in my life. This picture of Teagan just jumped out at me today. We just had a big winter storm, so the dea of sunshine and short sleeves very muh appeals to me on this January snowy day in Michigan. =) The scene in that pictures is lost by the framing of the lens, but I still remember those days like they just happened. Brock {you can see his baby toes if you look closely} was 6 months old and was an easy going baby propped in his carseat where he could keep an eye on Teagan and me as we went about ur activities each day. Teagan was outside playing this day and I had handed her a few cheese crackers to munch on for afternoon snack. This is a rare look at her- where she is looking at me, but without all the normal mischief in her eyes. She probably turned and snacked her crackers while dancing in the grass after this picture. But those blue eyes and blond curls and perfectly shaped tiny lips were something that melted me everyday I spent with her.
As I flipped through the photo album today, I realized I have never stopped missing everything about her- even all these years later. My heart drops when I let myself accept the reality all over again, that yes, she was here. Yes, she was mine. Yes, she still makes my heart melt at the sight of her.
Oh to love someone so much and have them suddenly gone without one more time to dance and hug and sing a silly song together is the cruel reality of grief and death. It is the part that I have had to wrestle with and wrap my mind around- even as my heart longs for a different reality. It is the part that makes a good day just not as good as it could be. It is the part of living that makes the bad days that much worse. It is the part of living that makes me wish it didn't exist, but the very part that makes me want to rise above and choose happiness as much as I can.
The truth is I am not as good at rising as I once was. Or as I maybe thought I was. Or maybe I am just not as high as I had hoped to be in life by this time. Maybe I just never realized how far the climb from the pit of grief really is, but no matter the reason, I find myself wishing the happiness came easier. I posted about my word of the year being "soar". When I looked at this picture of Teagan today it brought a smile to my face and I could almost picture a soft pair of wings where her little sleeves are at her side. I know that wherever she is, she soars. I know that she still makes my heart flip- that I got to love her and hold her and nourish her and teach her new things and delight in her learning and at the end of the day I felt her hugs and nose rubs and kisses on my face. She is forever a part of me and I know that even on the days I don't soar the way I wish I could, that I have years of rising under my belt and sometimes if all I can do is look back and see how far I've come, that's a part of soaring too. I never want to lose sight of the rising. I am glad I have pictures of a little angel to help me reach higher too.

I can't help but love it. Sometimes.

Friday I washed four loads of laundry. I don't have a laundry room, so my laundry baskets get brought up to the top of their stairs and this is the sight you would see if you rang my doorbell and I opened it up to say hello. My task on Saturday {while Chip hosted 80 people throughout the day out golfing on his new course!He has a job again. We are thankful.} was to fold and put this laundry away. I managed to get three of the four put away. As well as wash 3 more loads.
Between towels and bedding and just daily dirty clothes, there is literally never a time when I don't have piles of clean or dirty laundry sitting around somewhere at our house. It is one of those things that actually drives me crazy at the same time I love and appreciate it so much. I DO love clean, fresh folded laundry way moreso than piles of dirty stuff. But when I fold it and it piles up and I throw yet another load into my wash machine I find myself still thanking God that I get to be the mom to do this thankless job. I even pray for and am thankful for my kids and Chip who wear and dirty the clothes and towels and sheets. I think back so many times to the day I first did a load of laundry- it was several weeks after Teagan had died and I was "happy" to be getting back to doing a normal chore again. I had spent a few weeks with Wyndham and Chip in ICU, and even then when we came home from Hurley I was in a wheelchair and unable to go downstairs to do the laundry. So when that day finally came that I could do something so ordinary and something I had done over and over, I was unprepared at how different it was to wash, dry and fold clothes with Teagan's clothes not in the mix. It rocked my already grief-stricken world and I it is one of the "cries" and memories that has struck me so many times since then throughout the years. I was totally unprepared for the "missing" of her in something so routine. It made me realize how much I had taken for granted. It made me realize how much she was and always would be a part of my life. It made me realize how lucky I was to still have Chip, Brock and Wyndham and my physical abilities back to even try to resume our "normal" life once again.
My heart had ached at the loss of Teagan and all our bodies, hearts and minds were healing from. But I never knew doing laundry that day would change my persective on so many levels. I have been buried in laundry every year since then with the addition of more babies and with the growing that everyone has done through the years. But when I see baskets of laundry, on my very worst days, I still see something to give thanks for. I am ever grateful for the baskets that overflow. It reminds me of how many people I have to love and care for inmy home. It reminds me of how blessed we are to have so many things- clean water and soap to wash with, clothes to wear, closet space to put it all away- when I get around to doing that. I don't always love a lot of things in my life. But I am always trying to be better at even loving the parts that aren't always so lovable.
My word for this year is "soar". I want to soar and appreciate the stuff that is ever-present and not always so thrilling. To do so gives my heart and mind the push to be thankful for everything. Seeking to love the 'gifts' in life that we don't always think of as gifts is one of the ways I am choosing to look at life. I know I won't always have this many full baskets in my life. So that makes me even more thankful for them now. And that is the kind of thing that makes my heart soar...and makes the laundry less of a chore and turns it into a precious gift. I think it's why I enjoy stocking up on Tide as much as I do too. {Seriously, I usually keep at least 8 jugs on hand...partlt because I buy them on good sales. And also in part because it isn't surprising how much we go through it and I never want to run out!}Oh the joys of life when we just start breaking down the stuff we have and seeing it in new ways. I am not always good at it. But that's part of what makes life a good challenge too.
And now I want to know, is there something in life you can't help but love, even though most other people might think it's not all that great or fun? And what about a word for the year. Do you choose one? Feel free to share. I would love to know what you you are all focusing on for this year. xo