S.T.E.M.

The FIRST thing Isaac said when Levi and Samantha went to see him in the hospital was, 'we need a family picture!' Since he has a strong aversion to group photos, I was shocked and found it hilarious.  I can't believe I failed to take one! This morning as we typically piled on the couch, he said it again.  So, with a full heart, I share this image.   Your support has bolstered my full heart.  Thank you for the prayers, the hugs (even virtual ones) and for sharing your own trials.  To those who were spurred to sign up for CPR training or swim classes for your kiddos, you've provided a greater purpose for me sharing this story so publicly.  The drama of it all is over. Isaac's follow up appointment was fantastic. One would never know he was in intensive care (besides the ankle bracelet he refuses to take off since it 'keeps boo boos away').  I echo the repeated sentiments "God had his hand on Isaac", "God is good" and ...

I have had those dreams before- the ones where something tragic happens to a family member and I imagine what I would do, how I would feel and react. Realizing how scary and morbid those thoughts are, I generally stop myself and force a more pleasant daydream.   Perhaps those imaginary preparations prepared me for the actual thing. The doctor said our actions were textbook, we responded exactly as we were supposed to.   I can find peace in that only because Isaac has fully recovered, but where I struggle to find peace is my memory.   The real life, tragic pictures of my precious little boy under the water. His purple face.   His limp body as we pulled him up.   Never could I have imagined these images and I pray they stop haunting me.   Our family was vacationing in Florida for a few days after Steve came home from a three week long work trip.  We had just walked in from a fun day of activity and decided to jump in the pool before my in-laws ...

March 2016 This captured moment of my Grandpa is precious. You don't hear the story in this clip, but the difficult times his mother and he faced are far greater than I hope to ever know; however, I'm comforted to hear that my Great-Grandma wrestled with God. The comfort I feel is not just the normalization that comes with that statement, but the fact that when she asked, God assured her He was 'on her side'. I'm learning trials are meant to draw us TO Him not away. The trials that seem 'more than we can bear' often are just that... they are more than we can bear alone.  God uses them to give us the opportunity to walk alongside Him and experience his glory and power.

March 2017 It was this time last year when my superhero dressed daughter ran outside to get me a surprise.  I was consumed with my thoughts and gladly allowed her to take this minute by herself.  Maybe it was my raging postnatal hormones or the stress of an upcoming and uncertain move, but I was thinking A LOT about how the military lifestyle would affect my kids. I could rattle off advantages, but the challenges were filling my mind. Like most things, many of my fears came from the unknown.  My three little ones were experiencing a life and cultu re I had only been introduced to 8 years prior. I was still learning how to say goodbye, to be content when life plans change, to create family from strangers, to communicate long distance, and to make home anywhere, but this was their norm. I was familiar with the official flower of the military child, so when she returned holding a dandelion, I took a deep breath and thanked her for the gift and for reminding me h...