A Moment Cherished

.MIA.

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany) — Thu, 09 Feb 2012 16:20:00 +0000

I did not mean to be MIA for so long. It's just that things are crazy here. Ridiculously, gloriously crazy. And I am loving it! Our family is smack dab in the middle of a move of God, and we are buckled in hanging on for dear life. I am just dieing to write every single detail, but I cannot. I do not want this to be a teaser, but I do want your prayers. We are fighting with all our strength in prayer. And while I have always thought "unspoken prayer request" were silly, this is mine. I want to scream the request, but I cannot for fear that it would jeopardize what we are fighting so hard for. So with that cryptic message, which I do apologize for, if you feel led will you just pray as the Spirit leads you? God knows all about this. Thanks for all of the sweet messages over the past week. You are simply the best, and I appreciate each and every one of you.

Last week was a very busy week for us. We had to take Jamesy to the children's hospital again to visit with his neurologist and opthamologist. I believe that I have mentioned here that Jamesy has been having seizures and that they were increasing in intensity and frequency. We are often frustrated with the level of medical care Jamesy is given in our hometown, and have not been taken very seriously here about our concerns for him. So I went to this neurologist appointment (5 hours from our hometown) just begging God to allow Jamesy to seize in front of the neurologist, so that we could get help for him. Jamesy had a few seizures in the waiting room, and I was hopeful. We met with the neurologist, and he listened to us and believed that Jamesy was indeed experiencing seizures. Because we came from so far, and Jamesy really needed to start a treatment plan for the seizures, the neurologist admitted Jamesy for overnight evaluation with a 24 hour video EEG. We had expected to travel 1.5 hours back to my sister's that night and then back to the hospital the next day for Jamesy's opthamologist appointment. So we were not at all prepared to spend the night in the hospital. However, God was gracious, and overall it was a great experience (minus the wearing the same clothes as the day before and Jim and I sleeping squished side by side on a couch part - ha!). Jamesy had hundreds of seizures while being monitored. There is no doubt that that is what he is experiencing. The neurologist said he was having many different kinds of seizures, and that his brain waves works in a very abnormal way. Basically Jamesy's brain is always ready to seize at any given moment. He has started on anti-seizure meds, and we are noticing less seizure activity but a lot of tummy upset. The hope is that some day he will be off of these meds, however the neurologists told us this would be a long road of trial and error for Jamesy because of the significance of his seizures.

At the children's hospital we were also given a final and definitive diagnosis for our Jamesy. If you remember in this post I had said that there was a lot of confusion about Jamesy's initial diagnosis. The radiologists at the children's hospital finally examined carefully Jamesy's MRI results from this summer and concluded, that without question, Jamesy does indeed have Septo Optic Dysplasia. So that is that. Now we proceed forward knowing this is his diagnosis. Jamesy also has significant developmental delays. We have finally gotten him enrolled in Early Intervention, and he will soon be receiving therapies during the week. He is delayed in every area except gross motor - this makes us laugh, he is such a monkey running, jumping and moving constantly. Jamesy also has a sensory processing disorder, and we are in the process of learning whether or not he also has a hearing impairment. Jamesy did go to the opthamologist last week while we were at the hospital, but nothing more was able to be determined regarding his visual acuity. We continue to wait as he grows to determine what he really can and cannot see.

At times Jamesy's diagnosis can seem overwhelming. We are still in the very beginning stages trying to figure out exactly what his SOD is impacting, and it may be years before we fully understand that. We do not know his future, and that can make me fearful at times. But really, none of us know our future. Jim and I continue to raise this boy, our precious son, in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, as well as our other children. We pray daily for his salvation and that God would make much of his life for His glory. Jim and I are carefully learning how to balance Jamesy's special needs, while at the same time not holding him back from his full potential in Jesus Christ. This is all new to us. We chose Jamesy knowing he had special needs, but Jim and I are so clueless in this. Everyday is new, and we beg God's grace to pour over us and cover all of our mistakes.

Sometimes I still get so overwhelmed and choked up thinking about how God would entrust us with this responsibility of raising these precious children. His ways are so far above our ways. I am blessed to be written into Jamesy's story. I am so, so blessed.

As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts. Isaiah 55:9

Taken on Jim's ipad.

.Winner, Winner, Chicken Dinner.

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany) — Tue, 31 Jan 2012 20:08:00 +0000

And the winner of the $40 credit for Beautiful Brown Eyed Girl Boutique is......

Liz Grayce!!!!

Liz please email me at amomentcherished(at)gmail(dot)com, and I will forward your information onto Amy, so that you can select your boutique item!

Thank you to everyone who participated in the give-away, and especially to Amy for her graciousness in providing for it. Do not forget to check out her store and facebook page often. Right now she has a gorgeous size 4 ready-to-ship outfit on her page! Now would also be a great time to place your order for Easter!

Thanks again friends. I will be back next Monday. We are requesting some serious prayer regarding some big happenings with a certain special teenage boy in Ethiopia. If you feel led, we covet your prayer.

.Taking a Break.

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany) — Sun, 29 Jan 2012 21:14:00 +0000

Every now and then it is good for me to break away for a short bit in order to refuel. I am going to take a week long blog hiatus. I will be back to announce the give-away winner on Tuesday! If you have not entered yet, you can do so here!

I am actually spending every free moment on my knees and researching a special, crazy, only accomplishable through God, plan for our Habtamu. Please pray!

Have a blessed week. See you next Monday!

.A Moment Cherished Takes Just a Minute.

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany) — Fri, 27 Jan 2012 15:31:00 +0000

I remember just like it was yesterday.

The evening before, I had worked carefully on writing a short story. It wasn't a homework assignment, just something I loved to do. I typed the story onto our home computer, and printed it out, stapled it, and carefully stuck it in my school bag for the next day. I proudly handed that story to my fifth grade teacher the next morning (who also happened to be my great aunt), she smiled at me, as I told her that I had written a short story for her to read. I will never forget when that story landed back on my desk, with her pretty, "teacher-y" writing on the top page.

Tiffany, I loved this story. You will make a wonderful author someday.

It probably only took her a minute to write those words, but twenty years later those same words are still tucked into my heart. No, I am not an author (yet), but writing continues to be a very important desire and passion of mine. And without hesitation, those words written on the top of that short story, lit the fire under my dream to be a writer. It's a cherished moment for me that only took a minute. As a mommy, I try to be intentional about finding these moments for my own children. Our words are so powerful in the lives of our children, and the children around us. They have the power to ignite dreams, desires, passions, or to destroy and smother those same dreams, desires, and passions.

This is a powerful video on how taking just a minute to speak wonderful, uplifting words into the heart of a child can stay with that child forever.

Another way that we can use our words in the life of a child is by sponsoring a precious little one through Compassion International. Not only are the financial funds important and life-altering, but our words just as much so. It has been such a joy for our family to write letters to our sponsored children, knowing that every word can be used to breathe hope into their life. A moment cherished takes just a minute and can last a life time. It's the little moments that make up our lives. Don't you have a minute to give?

[Do you like boutique children's clothing? If so, check out the amazing give away here. You have six chances to enter and win!]

.Expectantly Waiting.

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany) — Thu, 26 Jan 2012 16:43:00 +0000

This time around feels a little bit different. I cannot put my finger on exactly what it is. I am just as excited to adopt this time. I am just as passionate about orphan care and our responsibility to care for orphans, and I am just as convicted about being a voice for the voiceless and standing up for justice for these little ones. I have already felt my heart begin that pregnant swell as Sophia is being tightly knitted there. I think of her, I pray for her, and I long to know her, but I feel more settled this time around. Calmer. Perhaps, it is because we have walked this road once before, and have seen the beautiful way that God orchestrates the finances, the timing - well, everything. I don't feel any less passionate or excited, but I don't feel the urgency that was so intense from the very beginning of our journey to Jamesy. I don't feel complacent, though, either. I am just trying to rest in God's timing, knowing full well that it is perfect. Perhaps that is because Sophia is not ready yet, or perhaps I am truly growing in my faith.

Regardless, I am excited. I don't care as much what people think this time around, and yet I have not been quite so vocal. I am leaning into Jesus and listening for His Spirit to direct my words. I understand more now than ever before, the blessings that come with obeying God no matter how crazy it appears to others. So I am closing my eyes to fear of man this time, and opening them to the path God has before us - whatever it may include. The children already talk of Sophie, just like they did of Jamesy. She is part of our family, before we have ever laid eyes on her.

We are standing still for the moment in our journey. Our fat, pink notebook is ready and waiting to be filled to capacity with the documents that will help us reach our daughter.

But for now, we wait on God's timing, to provide the finances. I know He will, I just don't know how or when. So we wait! We are in the process of designing some tees to help raise funds and spread awareness, and we are selling Just Love Coffee again, but mostly we are waiting - expectantly waiting. For my expectation is from Him.

Truly my soul silently waits for God; from Him comes my salvation; He is my defense; I shall not be greatly moved … My soul, wait silently for God alone, for my expectation is from Him. He only is my rock and my salvation; He is my defense; I shall not be moved. Psalm 62:1-2, 5-6

[Do you like boutique children's clothing? If so, check out the amazing give away here. You have six chances to enter and win!]

.Trying to Get Her Attention.

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany) — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 14:43:00 +0000

Last week my husband, Jim, answered the question how do I get my husband's undivided attention for a serious conversation? Jim did a fantastic job hitting on several key ways for a wife to successfully carry on a serious conversation with her husband. You can read his post here. Today I am going to answer a similar question.

How do I get my wife's undivided attention for a serious conversation?

(source)

Good communication is as stimulating as black coffee, and just as hard to sleep after.

Anne Morrow Lindbergh

Jim touched on the fact that men and women communicate and think very differently. Most men (I have to generalize here, please accept my apology) typically communicate in a very straight forward, black and white kind of way. Think about the way that two men would carry on a conversation with each other. Typically one man speaks and the other man listens. When he is finished, the other man speaks and adds his thoughts. End of story. Conversation over. Conclusion established. Now picture two women carrying on a conversation. Women typically communicate in a much "messier" way. A woman ties in several thoughts, concepts, and ideas into one big conversation - bouncing back and forth and weaving in and out of subjects but tieing it all together into an elaborate concept. When two women carry on a conversation, there is usually rapid fire thoughts being shared continually back and forth, with little time for breath. One woman jumps in where the other left off. Their words mingle together and flow between each other forming one conversation. It is organized chaos.

It's no wonder that at times communicating with our spouse can seem like a foreign language! God created each of us so differently, BUT communication can happen and should happen - even serious communication. Both partners just have to be willing to learn the language that their husband/wife uses. Here are some different ways that husbands can communicate with their wives.

Show her that you are giving her your undivided attention. When a man is engaged in a conversation with his wife, show her that your are listening with your whole body. Your ears cannot be the only sense engaged in the conversation. Most men who have been married, even just a little while, know that when a woman speaks she is not just communicating black and white words. There is a lot being said behind the words. Watch for emotion - what is her body language telling you? Listen for tone and meaning. Do not just listen to merely the words, listen to the story behind the words.
Connect with her heart. When you communicate with your wife, try to step out of a typical "problem-solver" mentality, and speak from your heart. Women need to connect with you on a heart level. Your wife needs and wants to see your passions, your drive, your emotions - yes, your feelings. Women need to see the humanity of their husband. I truly believe that almost every wife longs to have a heart-connection with her husband. One of the ways this happens is in heart felt communication.
If you are not sure just ask. If you are speaking from your heart and listening with your whole body, and still have not a clue what your wife is truly saying - maybe her body language is not matching her words at all - then just ask her what she meant! By showing a deep interest in your wife's thoughts, the conversation will naturally ebb and flow better and the two of you will be more connected. It is better to ask then to guess. Most women would see your asking as proof that you are truly interested in the conversation.
Allow the conversation to ebb and flow. I am guessing here that at times it is very frustrating for a husband to carry on a conversation with his wife, especially if that man is used to cut and dry conversations where each party takes his own, quick-to-the-point, turn. It's okay to allow your wife to break into your conversation with her thoughts and feelings and comments. (A wife should never be rude or disrespectful, but the way most of us communicate is with a conversation dance - where both partys' words mingle together to form one beautiful conversation.) If you are able to relax and enjoy this conversation dance, then communication with your wife will be much smoother.

Communication requires thought, love, and patience in marriage. It also requires a willingness to humble ourselves and to learn how to listen and to communicate better. Hopefully this two part series has given all of us a little bit to think about before we enter our next conversation.

Ladies, what would you add to this?

Thanks for all of the great questions and input that have been emailed and given to us! If you have a marriage topic or question that you would like featured on a Wedded Wednesday post, then please feel free to leave a comment or email me at amomentcherished(at)gmail(dot)com or leave a message on the blog's facebook page.

[Do you like boutique children's clothing? If so, check out the amazing give away here. You have six chances to enter and win!]

.Beautiful Brown Eyed Girl Boutique {Give Away}.

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany) — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 15:39:00 +0000

Give-Away is NOW closed.

This is huge! The biggest and best give-away that I have ever had at A Moment Cherished! I was introduced to Beautiful Brown Eyed Girl Boutique and Amy last fall. I was looking around online for Christmas presents for my children. I wanted to buy items where at least part of the money supported social injustices, and I landed on Amy's website. I immediately fell in love with her boutique clothing. It is exactly how I would dress my Cadi everyday if I could. Everything is handmade/ hand sewn with the most perfect, girly details. I emailed Amy, and we quickly became online friends. I learned of her love for orphans and orphan care, of her precious Bella who became her daughter because of the beautiful blessing of adoption, and I also learned that our sons shared the name Jameson (just different spelling). We instantly clicked, and I purchased a beautiful dress with ruffle pants and matching ties for my children. I thought that I had loved the clothing in Amy's photographs, but when they came packaged in the mail I was blown away. They were flawless and gorgeous.

I asked Amy a few questions about herself to give you a better idea of the creative, kind-hearted, sewing genius behind the boutique.

Amy and her beautiful family.

When did you start sewing?

My first experience with sewing was in my Junior High School Home Economics class, and I was a huge failure! I didn't try again until our sweet Isabella came home. I loved all of the boutique style clothing for little girls, and thought I would try to make some for my daughter. To my surprise I seemed to have a knack for it, and REALLY loved the creative outlet. People started to ask me to make things for their kids after seeing outfits I made for Isabella, so I thought I would give selling them a try. That was 3 years ago.

Where do you get new inspiration for your designs?

There are some really great pattern designers out there now; they make patterns so fun to create. I love seeing a new pattern come out...all of the ideas and possibilities of what materials I would use and where I would use them. Seeing in my head what I could do to tweak the pattern to add the BBEG feel to it.

What have you liked the most about owning a boutique?

By far the best part about starting and owning Beautiful Brown Eyed Girl Boutique has been the wonderful people I have met. My customers really are some of the greatest people, and I feel blessed by each and every one of them. I have made some of the best "online" friends through the store!

How did you name your business?

I named the boutique after my very own beautiful brown eyed girl, Isabella Soliz, because she was my inspiration for starting the store.

Why are you passionate about orphan care?

I have always been passionate about orphan care and adoption. I knew that I wanted to adopt from a very young age. I remember telling my Mom that my Cabbage Patch Dolls were all from China...even though they all had blond hair and blue eyes, ha! We brought our precious Isabella home from Guatemala in 2007. I think for a lot of us our eyes aren't really opened to the orphan crisis around the world until we have a personal experience with it. Starting our own adoption process opened my eyes wider than they had been before. I am so grateful that others buy BBEG Boutique clothing so that I may help with another person's adoption process or mission trip. Being able to send profits to those who need food or an education to help stop the cycle of poverty is something I couldn't do without being blessed by my customers.

Amy's heart is bigger than life. She gives back a portion of her profits to help orphans and adopting families. Amy agreed to do an amazing give-away on my blog for you, my sweet readers. I SO wish I could enter this myself! Amy has very generously offered to give one reader a $40 credit towards any custom boutique product or ready-to-ship item! I will randomly draw one entry to win this amazing prize, next Tuesday afternoon, January 31st.

Here is how you can enter the give-away. Please read the rules carefully and follow the directions so that your entries can be counted. Please also leave your email or blog address, so I have a way of contacting the winner.

Simply go to Beautiful Brown Eyed Girl Boutique and scroll through the products and fabrics that Amy has listed. Come back here and leave one comment telling me what your favorite item is.

To get additional entries do one or more of the following (Please leave a separate comment for each entry, or it will only be counted as one!):

Follow Beautiful Brown Eyed Girl Boutique on the blog here.
Like Beautiful Brown Eyed Girl Boutique on facebook here.
Tweet this give away linking back to this post.
Let your friends know about this give-away on your facebook linking back to this post.
Write a blog post about this give-away linking back to this post.

You have a chance for a total of six separate entries! Remember to comment separately for each entry telling me what you did. Have fun browsing through Amy's boutique and be sure to check out all of her fabrics! The color choices and options are just stunning!

.My Heart.

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany) — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 12:00:00 +0000

I've only spent a handful of hours with him, but I've spent days pleading in prayer for him. He has my heart.

This teenage boy from the streets of Ethiopia - Habtamu. My Habi, as Jim affectionately nicknamed him. It has been a year since my world collided with him. And I am a completely different person. His soft brown eyes, and shy smile, and that nervous way he chews his lower lip, turned my world inside out from the moment I locked eyes with him. I knew in that instant that I had to fight for him. I just wasn't sure how, and honestly I am still not sure. If I had my way, I would get on a plane tomorrow and bring him back home with me. But that does not seem to be the plan, and although it breaks my heart, I am trusting that God has a bigger, better plan. I just cannot see what even the possibility of that plan might be.

It's hard communicating this love I have for a boy, whom is virtually a stranger. I know it makes no sense. I cannot explain it, except it is a God-thing - God orchestrated. Yesterday we were able to skype with Habi, for the first time in months. I don't have words for what it means to me to be able to see his face, and hear that accent, and the way he calls me Mom. When he calls me Mom I feel every bit of that title, and my heart tightens around this precious boy even more. He kept calling me beautiful this time, but he is the beautiful one - my konjo (beautiful in Amharic) Habi.

This was the momentous moment I am latching onto from this past week. While it was happy in the moment, talking to my Habi always leaves me feeling empty and helpless after the fact. My arms don't reach to Ethiopia, and when this teenage boy, who calls me Mom and Beautiful is over there needing us, it really, really stinks. I am thankful that my Jesus is enough for Habi, though, and I am praying that Habi will see that and know Him.

Jesus is enough for me, and my aching heart as well.

This is a Momentous Monday post. To learn more go here, and please feel free to link up with us right below!)

.Chapter One - Once Upon A Time.

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany) — Fri, 20 Jan 2012 16:58:00 +0000

To read the intro click here.

The wise man in the storm prays God,

not for safety from danger,

but for deliverance from fear.

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

Once upon a time –it’s where all stories begin. And my story begins no differently….

Fear has defined much of my life. It has motivated my decisions. For far too long I have allowed it to be the weed choking out what could have been my dreams. Fear is paralyzing, debilitating, and manipulating. It is not from God – I Timothy 1:7 for God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control. Fear is from the father of lies, and he creeps in seeking to destroy, to devour, and to suck the abundant fullness right out of the life that Jesus Christ sacrificed His very breath in order to gift to us (John 10:10).

For most of our young married life we had been in camp ministry. My husband Jim was the Program Director of a small Christian youth camp. We loved many things about camp life and the ministry, but it was not the ministry that God had chosen for us. I think my heart knew this for about a year, but fear strangled me and kept me statued in place. I knew the Spirit was pricking Jim’s heart to leave the ministry of camp as well, but any time that he would mention it I would use my words to manipulate him into thinking that his motives were selfish. I continually told him he was falling prey to “the grass being greener on the other side”. I am ashamed and heartbroken for the way I manipulated him and distorted my biblical role as his wife. Manipulation was my weapon of choice in our seven short years of marriage. I thought I was protecting us – our family. I was certain I knew what was best for us. But mostly, I used it to mask my fear of the unknown. I would rather stay in a ministry that I knew God had not called us into then to step away with nothing to catch us. Change was to be feared, and I feared it well. However, in October of 2009 God brought everything to a head, and Jim came to me broken and desperate to leave camp ministry knowing that God was calling us to something different.

I can remember just like it was yesterday the day that I could no longer ignore the fact that God was leading us out of this particular ministry. It was the fall of 2009, October tenth to be exact. I will never forget that date. The night before Jim had asked me to pray about the possibility of us going into farming with our best friends. What a crazy, ridiculous idea! My husband knew basically nothing about farming. It had never been a passion of his, but he did enjoy the fellowship he had when he occasionally would milk side-by-side with his best friend. In my stubborn mind that wasn’t enough to completely change our life for. Looking back now, I can see it was just Jim feeling the Holy Spirit’s tugging, and the only immediate way that he could see for us to get out of camp. At the time, I was upset that Jim had even asked me to pray about farming. I did not want to pray about it. I did not want to leave camp. Camp was safe. We were secure. Jim's job and ministry was secure. I didn't pray about it that night or that next morning. My heart was in turmoil, and I was angry mostly because I was being suffocated with fear. My control was slipping away, and that left me with a huge pit of fear sitting hard as rock in my belly.

I was scheduled to take a family's photos that Saturday. First, I had to drive to camp and help prepare a lunch for a paintball retreat, though. We lived about forty five minutes from the camp. During the summer season – May through September - our entire family would move onto the campground. For the other months of the year we would live in our home and travel to retreats and events when needed. Jim had left several hours before me, so I drove up alone with my children. It was about five minutes into my drive that I felt the Spirit urging me to pray. I put a Steve Green's kid's CD in for Cadi and Scotty to listen to, turned it up, and began to pray out loud. I don't remember the exact words I said, but I know that I just poured my heart out to my Father. I told Him about my fear of leaving camp for the unknown, my fear of letting God truly have control over our life. About fifteen minutes before I got to camp that day, I began to cry. I remember worrying that I would frighten my children who were in the back seat. I was not silently crying, I was sobbing, gasping for air, sniffling - all out ugly crying. I almost pulled over, and for safety reasons I probably should have. However I kept driving - talking out loud to God and crying because I had gotten this overwhelming feeling - rather a knowing - that God was asking us to leave camp, and not only that, but He was asking us to leave soon - before we began planning for another summer. I knew that we needed to step out in faith, to trust Him completely with our lives. He was asking me to stop trying to manipulate our lives, to stop playing it safe. I was fairly certain that God did not have farming in our future either. I knew that Jim was gifted in the area of ministry, and that he had not yet been able to use all of his giftedness. I knew that Jim always had becoming a pastor on his heart. I just didn't have any idea at that time what God had in store for us.

I had never before had a conversation with God like this. I don't want to come across as all feelings/emotions based, but this was so real. There was absolutely no question in my mind that God was telling us that He was done using us at camp. That morning in the van had revolutionized my prayer life and my walk with God. Something had changed. My heart of stone was being softened and broken beyond recognition. It was one of the hardest moments of my life. It was a moment in time that forever changed the path of my life.

It was amazing.

I pulled our van on to the camp road with a strange mix of emotions. A peace came over me, but I was terrified of what laid ahead, too. I was nervous thinking about how I had to tell Jim, but I wasn't quite ready. Because I knew deep in my heart that Jim knew we had to leave camp as well, and once I told him that would be it. We would have to proceed. I worried about the people involved - the people we ministered with at camp and truly loved like family. I did not want to hurt them, but knew that could not stop us from following God. It is no secret that I struggle with fear of man, so I worried about that too - what would people think? What would our parents think, our friends? But I composed myself and I dried my eyes, took a deep breath and parked.

For the first time in my life I squelched the fear in my heart and did not let it reign over me. God was giving me a deliverance from the fear which had controlled most of my life. When Jim and I finally talked it was as I suspected - we had come to the same conclusion God was asking us to move on to another ministry. Soon after this moment, I wrote this in my blog describing what God had done and was doing to move us.

Once upon a time there was a girl who loved a boy and loved his passions and desires. She wanted to follow this boy to the end of the earth if need be, but she also wanted to play it safe.

Not rock the boat.

This girl liked routine,

She liked predictability,

she like stableness.

She found security and comfort in monotony, and she fled from change. She loved God, and desired His will for her life, but she clung with white knuckled fierceness to control of certain aspects of her life, and shamefully even tried to claim the reigns of control in the life of the boy whom she so loved.

The boy on occasion would mention a desire to pursue other passions, other ministries. The girl, oh how she would balk, and whimper and whine like the hot-headed toddler child that still reigned in her heart at times. The girl could manipulate the boy with well thought out words. She knew just what to say to tighten those reigns of control. And the boy, oh how he loved the girl, and wanted what was best for her. So he would back down. Time and time again. Little by little she whittled away at his will, his desires - trying hard to fit them into her safe little mold for their life.

The girl knew that this area of her life needed to be chipped away at. She knew that the control she fought so hard to hang on to was not right. This crazy need to control her life, his life, and everything that revolved around that was so very wrong. The control was not even real. It was imaginary.

She was not in control and could never be in control. She needed to relinquish it over to her Creator, Who was, and always had been - in control.

The girl was terrified of what this might mean. Terrified of really letting go, for probably the first time. Ever. She trembled at the thought of cutting the reigns from her clenched fists, and handing them over. What kind of fool would relinquish control over her life for some unknown future?

This area of control after all had been the girl's security blanket for as long as she could remember.

Don't rock the boat.

Keep going.

Keep plodding.

Resist change - change brings about the unknown, and with the unknown a lack of control. A complete and total surrender of what she had clung to for so long.

And then, what she had been so fearful of for such a long time, happened. Her Father breathed into her heart the voice of Truth - about her need to surrender. The girl crumbled in a heap knowing that the charade was truly over. In order to live abundantly, like her Creator intended her to live, she had to give up and give over this area of her life.

So broken and humbled the girl admitted to the boy that she could no longer carry on the false pretense of control.

The masquerade was over.

The mask of fear was taken off.

It was time to surrender.

She begged the boy's forgiveness for her manipulative ways, for her stubborn heart, and as the tears rolled over her cheeks she began to feel a peace wash over her, and begin to uncloud her mind and the lies she had told herself.

The boy seemed to have been waiting and praying for a long time for the girl to speak and feel those words.

He held the girl.

And the girl surrendered to the boy's embrace.

And together, for the first time, that boy and that girl free fell into the arms of the One who orchestrated it all.

There was no zip chord.

No parachute.

There was no emergency exit.

Just complete and total reliance in Someone outside of themselves.

Is the girl still scared?

Yes. But for the first time in her life, the girl feels real peace that covers much of the fear and knows the freedom that comes when one surrenders ALL.

... whoever of you does not forsake all that he has cannot be My disciple. (Luke 14:33)

On January 30, 2010 we drove onto the campground for the very last time in the capacity of program director. We drove off the campground about six hours later, as just another couple leaving camp. We had no idea of what laid ahead in our future. We had no plans. No safety net. Camp had been an intricate chapter of our story. We were a couple who had gone through life change because of the way God has used that camp. We were a couple forever changed because of that camp. We were a very different couple than the one that drove onto that camp in the capacity of program director nearly six years ago.

But it was over.

Looking back over that time in our life I think one of the hardest parts of it all was not knowing the ending – not even knowing what was to come next. As a child, an avid reader for almost as long as I can remember, I always had to know the ending of a story. I had to see that it would work out and be a happy ending, before I could bare to read the turmoil and heartache that the story's characters would have to face in order to get to their happy ending. I'm still like that with novels at times - I just have to take a peek at that final chapter. I just have to know how the story ends. Sometimes it isn't happy, and sometimes I prefer that - to read a more realistic story that ends unresolved rather than neatly tied in a bow, but I wasn’t certain that was an option I wanted to consider for our ending. At the time, with a story so personal - with our story, I had no idea how it would end. What would this story cost us?

Little did we know that this would be the first step on the journey of a lifetime. It took God ripping the bondage of fear from me for the scales to begin to fall off of my eyes. He was already orchestrating an incredible journey. We had no idea that God was preparing our hearts for a story that would take us around the world to a country an ocean a way – Ethiopia – where a little brown-eyed boy was waiting for us to open our eyes and say yes to bringing him into our family in order to make him our son.

But that was exactly the story God was beginning to write for us. This was our once upon a time.

.On This Day.

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 12:00:00 +0000

I stare at this screen, at that photo, through blurry, tear filled eyes. My emotions are right on the surface bubbling up and threatening to spill out all over this post. I want to do this justice, so that I can share the experience, but my words will always, always fall short. It seems as if we had waited an excruciatingly long time to meet him. When in reality it was only just a little over four months. We had chosen him, pretty much the moment our eyes landed on his photograph. The fact that he had "special needs" was of little merit, all that mattered was that he was the one we were waiting for - he was our son - our child, knit into our heart by a sovereign, merciful Creator. Our thoughts, prayers, emotions, finances had all been building up, getting ready, for this exact moment.

On this day, one year ago, we met, kissed, came face to face with our son, Jameson Yonas. We wrapped our arms around a minuscule and yet very tangible representation of our redemption in Jesus Christ. Our world collided with Ethiopia, and we came face to face with God's heart for orphans as we took one into our embrace and burrowed him deep into our hearts. He left the arms of his nanny as an orphan and entered our arms as a cherished, beloved, sought-after son. And how much more has God done that for us in our spiritual adoption? I was given the gift of new eyes when God painted me into this picture on this day, one year ago.

I remember landing in Addis the night before (close to midnight I believe) we were to meet our son. I strained my eyes through the darkness outside the tiny window in the plane anxious to see something of this foreign country that birthed my son. A lump immediately formed thick and burning in my throat. We are here, we are here, my heart practically beat through my chest. I was a ball of nervous energy and exhaustion. Customs was easy, and soon we were through security in this tiny airport in the capital city. My eyes drank in the sight of the beautiful Ethiopian people around me. I stared. Watching them, memorizing their culture, their body language, their gestures. We are here, we are here. I immediately felt frumpy in my comfy travel clothes and "bottle cap-lensed" glasses that I had been wearing for 48 hours. The people were stunning with their satiny, velvet, milk chocolate skin, perfectly curled exotic hair, and lithe, lean bodies. Beauty surrounded us, and I was mesmerized by God's creation of these people. Surely He had taken extra time with Ethiopians!

Dawit, our driver, must have spotted us a mile away. I wonder what gave us away? Perhaps it was our pasty white skin, our bedraggled appearance, the shell-shocked look on our faces, or maybe it was the oodles of donation bins and suitcases we dragged behind us. He immediately came over flashing his sideways grin, and then our guide, T, hopped up off the floor, took out his ear bud and introduce himself. I was mesmerized. I stared. These men knew my son. They had held him, seen him, and would take us to him after a night's rest. We are here, we are here.

Walking outside the airport I was immediately hit by warm, dry air. We had left bitter cold NY weather. And people, everywhere. Confusion, cars, vans, people swirled in front of me. I struggled to pull my luggage and keep up, eyes hungry to see it all. As we bumped down the potted streets in the fifteen passenger van, I wondered what side of the road we were supposed to be on? It seemed as if we were using it all, and even the sidewalks at times. My face was pressed up against the glass of the van. Jim reached over me and opened the window. Music and laughter and shouting and barking and honking floated in at us, and smells. Smells of garbage and decay, of poverty, of frankincense, of mystery wafted in and introduced itself to us. I gasped as I saw men and women and children making the broken down sidewalks, literally next to garbage, their beds for the night. The sights, the sounds of those moments are what I drifted off to sleep to that night in our little cozy bed, anxious to meet our son the next day.

The actual day is a blur. I remember meeting other families adopting through AWAA, eating breakfast, falling in love with the fresh squeezed pineapple juice, the strong black coffee, and the exotic breakfast foods. But just like the night before it was the people that mesmerized me - the cook and his easy smile and gentle eyes, the lady behind the desk and her kindness, her soft lilting voice, our guides and our driver. It was happening already, God was embedding the people of Ethiopia into a permanent place in my heart.

We got our schedule for the week and a chance to talk with our guides and adoption friends for much of the morning. Then we went for what seemed to be an excruciatingly long lunch at a little Italian restaurant in an Ethiopian art gallery. I was quickly learning that Ethiopia had one pace - slow. And I would grow to love it, but that day all I wanted to do was fast forward the lunch and hold my son. I ordered the cheapest thing on the menu, not really understanding the money conversion, and ate without tasting a thing. My heart was beating in my throat, and my hands were trembling and clammy.

But really before I knew it we were crammed back inside of that van and headed for the moment that would change our life forever. This next part I have written about before. I wrote it last year, soon after our meetcha moment.

How do I put into words....

the emotions of this moment, this culmination of so much prayer, anticipation. I am inadequate. It was everything and nothing like I had imagined. As our van bumped down the street that held the Transition Home, that held my son, my heart beat out of sync, clapping against my chest manically. Tears spilled at my lids, as the America World sign came into view. Then those gates, oh those gates that I had seen in countless other adopting family's photos and videos. Only this time they were real....there....before me. As the gates opened my heart began to thrash even more wildly. My eyes blurred, my throat burned. We were the first family alphabetically to meet our child. This was it. No more waiting. No more wondering.

We handed off cameras, and stood on the porch.

What to expect?

What to expect? My heart beat out.

The moments seemed to slow to an eternity, and then he was there before us, being brought to us. He was woken from a nap for our moment, and terrified. He cried huge crocodile tears, and as I held him to my thumping chest his chest beat out a similar rhythm as mine. Wild. Flesh, blood, hearts. My son. The one that God sewed into my heart the very first time I learned of Ethiopia and her orphans.

My hands were so hungry to know him, his curls- soft and springy, his skin- chocolate satin, his cheeks and neck begged to be kissed, and my lips found them over and over, as his tears splashed me wet and warm. He smells of Africa. I smell of another world, and it frightened him. He would bury his head in my neck and nuzzle in my shoulders, and then quickly withdraw from the foreignness of my scent, my shape.

Jim reached out to him. Daddy, son, they were perfect as their tears mingled.

I wondered if it would feel anything like real love. And it did. It does. He settled. He slept in our arms for hours, we began to bond over a bottle, and rice, and songs and dance. Giggles, little hands exploring my face, my hair, and my hands mimicking back.

He is my son. Heart of my heart.

The dance has begun.

And on this day, one year later, we remember the dance and it continues and expands, as we wait for the day we bring home another.

But for now on this day we rejoice, we give thanks, and we marvel that God could call our family to something so beautiful as this. I know not all are called to adoption, but if you feel that gentle, knowing - that tugging that can only come from the Holy Spirit, let me assure you that it is hard, heart breaking, and lonely. Adoption will break you and change you and destroy the life you once knew. But none of that matters and it pales in comparison to the gloriously, beautiful, perfect way that adoption becomes worth it all when we see our adoption in Jesus Christ for what it truly is.

Adoption is the highest possibly BLESSING that we received in our redemption in Jesus.

In love he predestined us for adoption through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will.
Ephesians 1:5

.Trying to Get His Attention.

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany) — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 12:00:00 +0000

This week's question comes from a reader. She was very interested in the man's persepective on her question, so I decided to leave this one all up to Jim and hand this week's question over to him.

How do I get my husband's undivided attention for a serious conversation?

“Any man who can drive safely while kissing a pretty girl is simply not giving the kiss the attention it deserves.” ~Albert Einstein

(source)

This question seems as though it is much simpler to write than to actually accomplish sometimes. I know I could write a whole bunch of axioms, but I am guessing if you are asking this question, you probably have tried the general principles already.

So, let me start here: men and women were created very differently. The way we think, the way we reason, is vastly different. Women’s brains are like a bowl of cooked spaghetti. When you look at it you know that there are lots of strands of spaghetti, but the idea that you could see where one strand begins and another ends is ludicrous.

A women’s mind connects all dots. So, the fact that a man walks in the door, says “I love you” and throws his coat on the floor is a way of saying “I love you as my maid.”

Men, on the other hand, separate everything into boxes. There is a box for food, a box for work, a box for wife, a box for kids, a box for hanging up coats, and of course, a box for nothing (a favorite of men.) So, when a man walks into the house says “I love you” and throws his coat on the floor, it is first a statement of his undying love for his spouse, and second a disconnected display of his desire to see his coat hanging. One is not a statement of the other-just two things that happen in close timing with one another.

Now-before the debate rages as to which way is right or wrong, let’s recognize the difference between men and women. I agree in the above account the man must be more sensitive, but I also know that the woman must see that while her husband is being a slob, he is not saying she is his servant.

Okay, before this digresses too far, let’s get back to the issue at hand:

How do I get my husband's undivided attention for a serious conversation?

I believe the most effective way to accomplish what you are trying to do here is to get your man’s undivided attention. You must make sure he is not in his illusive “nothing” box, or thinking about the awesome meal you just cooked. I thought about saying you should approach him in the nude… but that leads to a box that is particularly hard to get him out of. Seriously, make sure you have his attention, and ask when a good time to talk would be. Do not settle for a vague answer. Set something in stone and make sure you stick to it. If you have young children, maybe after everyone is to bed and you have had a few minutes to collect yourselves.

Once you have established what men refer to as a “meeting,” you now are in business. Your man should be aware that you are engaging in conversation and that there is an agenda. Don’t go overboard and go writing an agenda, but do think like a meeting with an agenda. You must know what you want out of this conversation… because if you just want to have a “serious conversation” with no objectives, you are as likely to get a talk about whether circus peanuts are good (I vote yes), or several suggestions from your husband that this meeting may go better upstairs. You will be frustrated and he will be confused. When I enter a meeting, in any setting, with no agenda the meeting immediately derails.

Now, back to the spaghetti and boxes thing. You have to speak your man’s language. If you want to talk about the problems in your marriage and you sight “that you treat me like your maid” and “that all I am to you is an object for sex” almost all men will have no idea what you mean. I know that is frustrating… BUT, if you want to be productive, you must give us all the connecting dots.

For example: “When you walk in the room and throw your coat on the floor, that tells me more about how you feel about me than the words ‘I love you’. The home is my responsibility and I take it seriously, and it is as if you walk in and don’t care. Then, when you sit down without helping me get the kids or the food to the table, I feel like you don’t understand the pressure I face every day, and that I need help. Then, right after diner, when you don’t clean up and turn on the TV ‘til bedtime I feel even more like you don’t care about me. That’s why when you come to bed and want to ‘snuggle’ I don’t feel like it. Because I am tired yes, but more so, I don’t feel like you care. Thank you for saying ‘I love you’, it is something. I am just needing help to go with the verbal affirmation.”

Now, in your man’s mind is the thought, “Oh crap, how do I fix this.” This is a man’s problem that is hard for you to understand, and I get that. However, you will find that he will begin to make absurd promises, that if you believe, you will be heartbroken. Why? Because he loves you and really does want to fix the problem. However, he has little perspective on just how to do that. Here’s how you can help with that.

“Honey, I am not looking for you to have all the answers to this tonight. Can you think on it, and maybe we can talk tomorrow about some things we can do better?” (As I write that it sounds super condescending… don’t be condescending, that is annoying. The idea is to give him time to mull it over without the pressure to have answer or make a promise he won’t be able to keep.)

Finally, when he does make an effort, praise him like crazy!! (Maybe some of that aforementioned “cuddling”)

Now, this example is addressing a problem, but the same thing rings true when talking about other non-problem issues. You must establish a time to talk about the issue, clearly articulate your perspective, and give him space to think. If it is complex-like “should we adopt?” It may take a little while… I remember when Tiffany dropped that bomb on me. You know what my initial response was: “Ummm, sure babe, I would consider going to Ethiopia. Yeah, Lucy is cute.” (In my head: What is going on??? Is this woman crazy??? {NOTHING BOX, NOTHING BOX}.)

Hope this was at least a little helpful.

Jim.

How about you? How do you get your husband's attention for a serious conversation?

Thanks for all of the great questions and input that have been emailed and given to us! If you have a marriage topic or question that you would like featured on a Wedded Wednesday post, then please feel free to leave a comment or email me at amomentcherished(at)gmail(dot)com or leave a message on the blog's facebook page.

.For the Love of all Things Nutritious & Delicious.

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany) — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 09:28:00 +0000

I love food.

I love making food, and I love eating food. I also love experimenting with different kinds of food. There is not too much that I won't try - once. And I have a very wide palate.

Except for

soda

marshmallows

coconut.

Those three things I just do not like. At. all.

I go in phases where I "health food binge". I become manic about researching health foods, trying new things, scrounging around our local health food store, and exploring new recipes, but then it consumes me. And I start to freak out when my children have a teaspoon of refined sugar or they go to someones house and have a pop tart or food dye in a cupcake that was made from a box. I think surely they will die from this unnatural awfulness, and then I panic and fear the worse and try to control every morsel they put in their mouth.... etc. It's an awful thing. I wish I was not an "all or nothing girl". I wish I knew how to be in the middle, because I don't want to live like that crazy mom I just described. Yes, I want to feed my family good food, I want to be healthy, I want my family to be healthy. I want to honor God by stewarding the body He gave me, and the family He entrusted me with, but I do not want to be mastered by anything except for God (Matthew 6:24). So this is a delicate dance for me. I write all of this to say, that I am cautiously dipping my toes back into the health food "pool", and balancing it with yummy indulgences and seeing them as a blessing when used in moderation. Because I will not be consumed by this. I won't be.

And with that here are a few healthy recipes that I have tried in the past few days that have been amazing. I thought I would pass them on. That is the real reason for this post. I just took a round about way to get here. {grin}

Homemade Breakfast Bars - except I replaced the slivered almonds with crushed cocoa almonds, and shook two tablespoons of flax seed over the bars while they were still hot. I used almond nut butter, honey, and raisins in mine.

Black Bean Toss - This is an amazing, HUGE salad that is packed with protein and fiber. It was soooo good. We had it for dinner last night (the salad was the meal - it is completely a meal on its own), and I am officially adding it into our Monday night salad rotation.

Kale Chips - Ooooh my. These you must try! My children were stealing them off of the tray right out of the oven. They are amazing! Next time I am going to try making a salt and vinegar version.

Chocolate Chia Seed Pudding - Yes, it is made from the seeds that chia pets grow from. Ha! I have been using chia seeds on and off for about a year, and I am so excited to find more uses for them - this being one. I added some natural peanut butter in mine. It was yummy.

You can follow me here on Pinterest to see some other healthy (and some not-so-healthy - balance, remember?!) recipes that I have tried, and I plan to try. Now, how about you share some of yours?!

(Cadi has another blood draw today, I will update the blog's facebook page with her count. You can get to it by clicking the facebook badge on my right sidebar. Thank you for praying for her.)

.A Saturday Moment.

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany) — Mon, 16 Jan 2012 12:48:00 +0000

We had just finished a breakfast of whole grain waffles. Our tummies were happy. We had shared giggles between bites, the children snug around our little table, and Jim and I cozied next to each other. Always this way. Us exchanging glances and smiles, eyes dancing as if to say is this really our life? Are we really this blessed? Are these children really this crazy?! And sometimes we just burst out laughing, right then and there, at the wonder of it all. Lately we have been reminding one another that we have a six year old, a three year old, and a two year old. So craziness is pretty much required. And most days we love it!

I began clearing the dishes as the children stayed and chatted with their daddy. The Pond, or some other Saturday morning radio drama, was playing softly in the background on our Christian radio station. As I wiped down the waffle iron and scraped bits into the disposal, I began to hear giggles, and then rhymes, and sometimes clapping. I finished up what I was doing, dried my hands, and peeked around the corner. Jim had pulled one of Scotty's "preschool" books out. The children were all gathered around him laughing and jumping and dancing in circles.

It was the best moment all week.

To see Jim embracing Daddyhood. To see Cadi with sparkle back in her eyes, and a flush on her cheeks. To see Scotty following along and understanding what Daddy was asking him to do, and realizing how much he is growing. To see Jamesy, running here and there and belly laughing - thinking he was the reason everyone else was laughing - forever our clown.

It's a memory I mostly tucked into my heart, because I was too slow getting my camera out, with little time to check lighting or settings, I began to freeze the moment. It's nice to have these photographs, blurry and all.

These are the moments, that when I am old and gray, I will pull out of that little place in my heart, and revisit.

And I will smile and remember when.

When my children were little.

When my husband was young.

When life was so full and so blessed.

This is a Momentous Monday post. To learn more go here, and please feel free to link up with us right below!)

.Melkam Gena ~Merry Ethiopian Christmas .

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany) — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 14:57:00 +0000

This past Saturday was Gena - Ethiopia's Christmas. Because I am that all or nothing kind of girl, that I frequently talk of here, I wanted to celebrate this day in a big way. I want Gena to be as special as our American Christmas. Last January (it's almost been a year!!) when we stood in front of that beautiful Ethiopian judge, in the small {stinky} court room, Jim and I made a promise to her that we would raise our son knowing that he is Ethiopian and raise him knowing his culture and heritage. We take this promise extremely seriously. It was a covenant that we want to honor, and that we see the great value in. So one of the ways we do this is by celebrating some of Ethiopian's holidays here in our home.

Well, Jim became very sick on Saturday, with flu-like symptoms. He was in bed for most of the day, but did manage to eat our Gena meal with us. (Although he could taste nothing!) So our Gena ended up being smaller than I had planned, but perhaps that is best and closer to a real representation of an Ethiopian celebration.

We celebrated how our family does best - with food! Each of our children have brought different things to our family. Jamesy has brought so much culture and an awareness of a country so different from our own. Without him, we never would try these foods, or know what we now know about his beloved birth country. I cannot imagine that now. Our life is so much richer.

The first recipe I made was Yemarina Yewotet Dabo - Ethiopian Honey Spice bread. This is an amazing recipe for those of you who are scared of ethnic recipes! It is a nice way to ease in. {grin} The bread is light and fluffy and made our whole home smell like Christmas. I really do not think you will regret trying this. I made the dough in my Kitchen Aid, but I think the dough could easily be made in a bread maker with great results. Here is the recipe.

The main dish recipe I made was Yemiser W'et (or Wat) - Spicy Lentil Stew. This was absolutely fantastic! We had it with injera (Ethiopians main staple bread. It is a sour, spongy textured bread that balances the spicy dishes so well. Ethiopians use this bread in place of utensils. We have tried to make it here, but finally decided to order batches of it and freeze it.) and a dallop of sour cream. The stew recipe is here.

Our little Ethiopian went wild for the stew!

I am so thankful that God chose him for us. Be on the look out next week for some special posts about meeting Jamesy one year ago! Thanks for taking this journey with us. So many of you were such a huge part of bringing Jamesy into our family. We are so grateful.

.If Only I Had Known.

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany) — Wed, 11 Jan 2012 12:34:00 +0000

The reader's question that we attempted to answer today is this.

What do you wish you knew before you were married?

I think it is absolutely vital for a couple to prepare ahead of time for marriage. This is one area that I was not fully prepared in, and wish that I had been.

I wish that I had known and had prepared for the amount of unselfishness a good marriage strives on.

I believe, now, that unselfishness is one of the biggest gifts I can bring to my marriage. I got married as a young, naive, and selfish girl. It has taken me a lot of years to understand the importance of dieing to self and living an unselfish life for my husband (and my children). Unfortunately, this is a daily battle for me. I am constantly struggling with my flesh in this area. I know with all my heart that unselfishness is a good thing, but it is an entirely different matter to actually live unselfishly on a daily basis. Thankfully, I was never asked to do it in my own strength, rather through the power of Jesus living in and through me. I am working on living everyday trying to "out serve" my husband, which is hard to do! One reason is that my husband is a really great servant, and another reason is that my flesh is so weak!

Many of you know the battle that I face with fear. It is a huge sin area in my life. And to be honest, to be unselfish, is scary - it makes me fearful. Satan is really good at feeding me some of these lies about being unselfish:

If I am unselfish that leaves me vulnerable to my husband, and I could be taken advantage of.

If I am unselfish than my needs will never be met, and I will be miserable.

If I am unselfish than I cannot be happy, because I will be too busy emptying myself to make someone else happy.

Truly they are all lies straight from the father of lies. I am already in a relationship where I am loved perfectly - that relationship is with Jesus. There is nothing left that I need. God will bless me for my unselfishness, He will fulfill my desires and my needs and give me JOY beyond earthly happiness.

I John 4:18-19 Such love has no fear, because perfect love expels all fear. If we are afraid, it is for fear of punishment, and this shows that we have not fully experienced his perfect love. We love each other because he loved us first

I am a work in progress, almost ten years into this marriage, and I am just beginning to learn what it is to be truly unselfish. I didn't enter my marriage this way, and I wish that I had. Here are three areas that I am begging God to chip away at and grow me in when it comes to my selfishness within marriage:

Understand my husband's needs and strive to care more for his needs than my own. This can only happen when I truly understand the grace that God has imparted on my life, and the fact that this is how God relates to me. Philippians 2:3 Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves.
By being willing to sacrifice for my husband even if that sacrifice comes at my own expense. It's easy for me to talk about being unselfish, but to actually do it takes sacrificial action on my part. A godly, wonderful marriage is made up of sacrifices. Yes, sometimes big sacrifices, but the real, constant ones are those little everyday sacrifices. Those are the ones I am trying to master. I Corinthians 13:5 Love does not demand its own way.
To honor the value of my husband. This doesn't mean that I am not valuable, or that I do not have needs. Simply put this means that I give more honor, more appreciation to my husband than to myself. I John 3:18 Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth.

To read what my husband wishes he knew before marriage click here.

How about you? What do you wish that you had known before marriage?

.This Is Real {EDITED}.

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany) — Tue, 10 Jan 2012 14:41:00 +0000

{EDIT: Cadi's platelet count is at 40K!!! This is up from 25K last Tuesday. We continue to pray those platelets up. God is good and faithful, even though my flesh fails. Thank you so much for praying and holding our family up.}

This is real.

My flesh is screaming out this stinks.

My heart knows that this is for my own good (Romans 8:28), this is to draw me closer to God, and make me look more like Jesus, but honestly, at the expense of my daughter?! My heart knows that the reason for this happening to Cadi is to bring glory to His name (Romans 11:36). Why did He choose our family? It is humbling and maddening all in one. I have new compassion and empathy for parents with terminally and chronically ill children. While we have only experienced a minute amount of what comes with that with our Cadi, I understand a little bit more now.

My flesh is screaming out I don't want to understand.

Cadi is with Jim right this moment getting her seventh blood draw in thirty days - we are a month into this I.T.P. diagnosis. Honestly, I was not too concerned when I first heard the diagnosis. I thought for sure Cadi would be an acute case, and that she would be back to normal in a week or two. Most of the time I can function like this is not happening, until I remember to check Cadi's gums and find bleeding, her body and find huge bruises, until I look into Cadi's eyes some moments and see just a tired shell of herself. I am pretty strong until my sister sits beside me and opens the wellspring of grief and fear that I have been trying to stuff down, and the sobs just come sure and strong. But most days I am okay in this.

I'm not sure if I am okay with this today.

My stomach is churning, and I will pace my kitchen waiting for that phone call that will determine how this next week will go for us. Another wait and see on pins and needles, praying to God that she does not get hurt or sick? Or a week of rejoicing over platelets that are up? Or will this finally be the week where we have to go the awful steroid route?

I am pretty much all over the place.

Of course this morning when I want to mope around and feel sorry for us, I get hit over the head with this verse.

Psalm 73:26 My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

So this morning instead of waiting for that call in my own strength, perhaps I will wait in God's strength, remembering that HE is my portion.

I will be back, friends, with her count. I am praying for at least 50k. Logically this is unrealistic, she has developed so many awful bruises this week, and has absolutely no color in her face - signs of dropping platelets.

But my Jesus, my Jesus is stronger than any logic.

.Going to the Chapel.

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany) — Mon, 09 Jan 2012 10:30:00 +0000

And they're gonna get married!

I can hardly believe that my baby brother proposed over the Christmas season, to a beautiful, godly girl, and is getting married this summer! Benny is eight years my junior, and I feel as if I missed out on a big chunk of his childhood, being that I left for college when he was just ten years old. Despite that, I love him fiercely, and I could not be more proud of him.

He is currently in graduate school at Wheaton working towards his PsyD - an alternative PhD in psychology. His heart is enormous and his love for God is solid. He is compassionate, intelligent, creative (his proposal was so creative and romantic - I was super impressed!) honest, humble, and fun! It has been such a joy seeing the man that God is making him into.

And Breanne, although I have only spent a handful of moments with her, is absolutely the perfect match for my brother. She is kind, godly, compassionate, sweet, and beautiful to boot! They complement each other in such a lovely way.

My only knock on her is that she can hardly blow a bubble to save her life - which provided lots of laughter and great memories.

It was my great joy to be asked to photograph them while they were visiting for Christmas.

To stand behind the lense and focus on telling their story was priceless.

They gave me a moment of pure joy.

A gift.

(This is a Momentous Monday post. To learn more go here, and please feel free to link up with us right below!)

.A Mutiny Against Monotony.

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany) — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 15:09:00 +0000

It was a restless night of sleep, and the dawn barged in, an unwelcome guest. I pulled the covers tight, resisting the sameness that spread before me. But there was no stopping this. The day rose up to meet me with dirty dishes left in the sink after opening our home the night before. Greasy, caked on gunk waiting for me. Dishes that I have probably cleaned thousands of times, only to without fail, find them in the bottom of my sink, yet again.

Morning tasks. So much the same as the morning before.

I tried to breathe out the thankfulness, as I walked by the full laundry basket also begging me to put its contents away. The same laundry that I had washed and dried and put away last week and the week before that. And I am thankful for this, for warm house, clean clothes, children, husband, life. But my heart beat out the monotony, and threatened to bite the thankfulness.

Tedious.

Repetition.

Monotony - doing the same thing over and over and over again.

Beds to be made. The same beds as yesterday.

Toys to be placed back in the toy room, again.

Most days I embrace this, wrap my arms around this - mommying at home, teaching and training my littles, making my home a welcome, safe, soft landing. But sometimes, in the crevices of my heart I want to start a mutiny against monotony.

God, I want to be great in your kingdom and do great things for eternity. I want my days to really count. I want to do something BIG, RADICAL, GRAND. I want to make a difference.

Some days are too much and not enough all wrapped together in a tight contradiction.

Little boys who need haircuts and noses wiped and diapers changed and clothes put on and tickles and affection and an intentional, attentive Mommy. (And a tree that still needs to be taken down.)

A little girl that has been sick since Thanksgiving and needs so much of me.

The constant checking for bruises and bleeding and signs.

The monotony that is becoming this sickness and the praying that the sameness ends.

It all whispers lies of smallness to me.

I am so small, doing nothing that counts. Ethiopia is always on my heart. If only God would send us there - ask us to sell it all, abandon it all to follow Him. That would dissipate the monotony, and then and there could I do something truly great.

Just as a real mutiny against monotony is rising in my heart, my eyes catch the eyes of the three children entrusted to me. This matters. This monotony is what He has called me to right now. Inside these four walls, there is kingdom work being done, here at my desk as my fingers fly across these letters, ministry is taking place. Through Christ in me, I am modeling the next generation and praying them into greatness for His kingdom.

This is BIG, RADICAL, and GRAND, because this is my calling right now. This is my ministry - to do the monotonous, to be a godly wife first and then a godly mommy. To live as daughter of the King, right inside my home, folding laundry, kissing boo-boos, washing dishes, changing diapers, checking fevers, teaching Jesus, singing, dancing, cooking - this is kingdom work because as much as I love my family, it is not really them that I am serving - it's the Lord.

And that is making a difference.

And maybe one of these tomorrows, God will change up the monotony - maybe He will choose to send us to Africa someday or maybe not. Regardless, no matter where I am, there will be monotony. For in the sameness is when I must purpose to choose the joy and thankfulness - and do the monotony with all of my heart, and when that choice is made it is counting for eternity.

Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive and inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving. (emphasis mine) Colossians 3:23-24

.Blog Redesign.

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany) — Thu, 05 Jan 2012 14:04:00 +0000

You may notice that things look a bit different here! My blog underwent an extreme makeover, and I hope it is now a little bit easier for everyone to navigate, a little bit simpler, a little less cluttered, and a whole lot prettier! You will see new tabs on my navigation bar, a simpler way to read our adoption journey (by clicking on the sidebar photo), a new blog button, and a few other smaller changes. I absolutely must introduce you to an amazing artist, Franchesca - owner of Small Bird Studios. Fran worked tirelessly on my design, and she is just as amazing as I heard that she would be! Honestly, she has the patience of a saint. Fran went above and beyond in doing what I asked of her (including three headers, before I finally settled on one!). She is beyond gracious, accommodating, super responsive to emails, and just absolutely lovely to work with.

I am so thrilled with the design that she created for me. It is exactly what I asked for and more - it's like she got inside of my head for this project! If you look around her design blog, you will see that Fran's prices are beyond reasonable. She charges too little; she really does. Currently her que is full, but she will be opening up to new clients in February. If you have been considering a blog redesign (or even purchasing some premades for your blog), I would hands down recommend Fran to you. She works with both blogger and word press, and she is extremely knowledgeable in design work. Fran also donates a portion of her sales to various charities each month. I am so grateful for her. Take some time and get to know Fran over at her blog. You can also "like" her facebook page. She and her husband have a suffered a horrendous loss with the death of their daughter, and yet she walks in grace and is a wonderful example of how God works even our pain for His glory. Fran is an amazing blessing to so many people. Thank you, Fran!!

.Reader Poll.

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany) — Wed, 04 Jan 2012 14:56:00 +0000

I need your help, sweet friends! I am attempting to be a bit more focused and disciplined in my writing - including my writing for this blog. In doing so, I want to streamline some things. I am thinking over bringing back Momentous Monday as a permanent link up for A Moment Cherished. If you are a newer reader, you may not be familiar with this, you can read about it by clicking the image below or simply scroll down my right hand side bar until you see "Looking for something I wrote?" and type in Momentous Monday to read some of the posts.

Would there still be an interest in this? It truly helped me to be more intentional in looking for the every day blessings in my life, and I heard from several of you that you felt the same way.

I am also considering bringing back Wedded Wednesday. There was a great response to that series this summer. Please feel free to continue to email me marriage topics or questions about marriage that you would like my husband and I to answer. We truly had a lot of fun with this, although we are by no means "experts", and I would love to see it come back.

Click the above banner to read some Wedded Wednesday posts.

I value your opinion, since you are the ones that take the time to read here. Is there any interest in these? Do you have any marriage topics or questions that you would want Jim and I to touch on?

I love hearing from you! Come out of hiding today, in order to share your opinion. {grin} Thank you so much for taking the time to let me know your thoughts.

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.Our Roller Coaster.

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany) — Tue, 03 Jan 2012 21:13:00 +0000

I.T.P. is a roller coaster, I had been told. Now I am realizing just how tightly we are strapped to that roller coaster, without a distinct end in sight. I want to get off. I am not strong enough for this ride, but Christ in me is.

Today Cadi had blood work again. Her platelets are now at 25k. That is 5k higher than last week! We are rejoicing over every single platelet, even though her Hematologist considers anything short of a 10k change to be "no change". We are taking it as good news, and we will test again next week. The goal for a "normal" platelet level is between 150k and 450k.

I am researching a gluten intolerance and I.T.P., and I have found a ton of information on that. Several articles claim there is a link between the two, although few regular doctors will acknowledge it. We are currently discussing and praying over putting Cadi (and our whole family, as that is the only way I can see doing it) on a gluten free diet. I would much rather do that than have Cadi on massive doses of steroids.

Cadi has been having some tummy troubles and extreme fatigue. She also is experiencing leg pain. The hematologist was uncertain as to why she is still so, so tired. She told us that we need to be extra vigilant in keeping Cadi away from people and helping her to stay healthy right now. So we will try - this coming off of two days spent with my family celebrating Christmas. (We like to stretch this season out!)

Cadi with her cousin.

I am sorry for these medical posts. I am assuming if this becomes a permanent part of our life, than these posts will stop. But for now we are still hopeful that this is temporary, and we covet your prayer.

And for some comic relief, because I certainly need a bit these days - my Scotty and his cousin caught in the act of stealing candy from Grandma's candy dish!

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.The Wide Open Spacious Life.

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany) — Mon, 02 Jan 2012 14:56:00 +0000

People are watching us as we stay at our post, alertly, unswervingly...in hard times, tough times; when we're beaten up, jailed, and mobbed; working hard, working late, working without eating; with pure heart, clear head, steady hand; in gentleness, holiness, and honest love; when we're telling the truth, and when God's showing his power; wen we're doing our best setting things right; when we're praised, and when we're blamed; slandered, and honored; true to our word, though distrusted; ignored by the world, but recognized by God; terrifically alive, though rumored to be dead; beaten within an inch of our lives, but refusing to die; immersed in tears, yet always filled with deep joy; living on handouts, yet enriching many; having nothing, having it all. Dear, dear Corinthians, I can't tell you how much I long for you to enter the wide-open spacious life. We didn't fence you in. The smallness you feel comes from within you. Your lives aren't small, but you're living them in a small way. I'm speaking as plainly as I can with great affection. Open up your lives. Live openly and expansively!
(2 Corinthians 6:10-13)

This is why I blog. So that God can teach me to open up my life. I want to live that wide open spacious life.

Today I will live openly and expansively.

.Embracing the New With Just One Word.

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany) — Sat, 31 Dec 2011 20:01:00 +0000

I love fresh starts.

New beginnings.

Mornings.

Birth.

Hope.

And a new year is all of that; brand new mercies poised to wash over me. It's a new life calendar that sits flawless and blank and waiting for me to ink it up. Rather than make a list of resolutions that I am bound to fail at, I am going to cling to a one word theme for 2012. I have been asking the Holy Spirit to bring a word to mind that would encompass every area where I need His growth in my life - where I need His mercy and His grace to flood my soul. My word came to me this morning in the stillness that I spent with my Father.

Self Control.

It's ugly and biting and mocks my pride. But it's the word that I am carrying into 2012.

So this year I am embracing the new year without a list of resolutions and promises that I could never keep, instead I am reaching for that one word - self control. I am pleading with God to show me how to say that's enough for right now. It's a humbling thing to proclaim how much I need this discipline of self control in my life, but I do. It touches every area that I struggle in. I am desperate for it, because without it I will be strangled with self defeat.

Like a city whose walls are broken down is a man who lacks self control. Proverbs 25:28

If you had just one word to carry into 2012 with you, what would it be? I would love to hear.

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.Real Babies.

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany) — Fri, 30 Dec 2011 14:46:00 +0000

Her name was Beulah Cora. She had chubby cheeks, round, bright eyes, long yellow piggy tails, and adorable dimples. I thought she was beautiful, and I loved her. She was my beloved Cabbage Patch doll. I slept with her, ate with her, and played with her. In the summer I would tag along with my mom to various yard sales, and I would spend my allowance on newborn clothing for her.

There were others, Heather, being one. She was my 1980's Real Baby doll. I saved up my birthday money for her. I still remember the way she smelled, and how she came with a hospital id bracelet. She spent countless hours being pushed in my little plastic buggy, tucked under the cozy dolly quilt a sweet neighbor had made for me. Her plastic cheeks were smothered in kisses, and her little rose bud mouth was often subject to my homemade "baby food" - a mixture of warm water and flour.

Carrie Beth had curly hair - blond - I do not remember where she came from. I do remember dressing her tiny body, whispering love notes into her ear, and tucking her in between my sister and I each night. My last dolly of childhood was unlikely. It was a troll baby, and she smelled like baby powder and wore a shock of bright pink hair. I received this doll on my thirteenth birthday, and I remember, even then, knowing it would be my last ever baby doll. I think the gift was meant to be a part of my miniature troll collection not really a "doll", but I loved her like every other baby doll that had preceded her. She was only loved for a short time, before she retired to a shelf in my room towering over the miniature trolls. I remember feeling sad about that, and once in awhile in my younger teen years taking her off of the shelf and giving her a quick hug, breathing in that baby powder scent, and reluctantly putting her back. I had outgrown her too quickly.

When I was the age that my daughter is now, my greatest desire in all of the world was to be a mommy and to have babies. Not quite knowing how the baby thing all worked, I would lay in bed at night and pray and pray that God would make my baby dolls come alive. Sometimes for extra measure, I would start the night out hiding my baby dolls behind the couch in our living room. I would then run back to my room, squeeze my eyes closed and beg God to make them real. Disappointment choked me every time I ran back to the couch to peek on those dolls. But I always believed that one day, I would run to the couch or wake up and find that my dolls had become real babies.

They never did become real babies, but I never stopped believing that one day I would be a real mommy with real babies of my own. I could not imagine anything better then taking care of and loving my own babies.

It's a silly memory that I have tucked away, but I am realizing that my childhood dream came true. I am a mommy to three beautiful babies. My little six year old self intrinsically knew that she was created to mommy. I wish I could go back and tell her how truly wonderful, amazing, and even better it would be than she had dreamed.

Me with my real babies.

.Hey, Thanks.

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany) — Thu, 29 Dec 2011 21:43:00 +0000

As the curtain falls on another year, I just wanted to take a moment to say thanks to you, my reader. It's been a wild ride of a year, beginning with my first trip to a third world country, bringing my new son home, acclimating to life with Jamesy, learning of Jamesy's diagnosis, a busy summer, a busier fall, Jim going back to Ethiopia, and culminating with Cadi's diagnosis and my grandmother being very sick in the hospital. And through it all, through every single blog post, through every peak and valley, and every joy and heart ache spilled out here, you kept reading.

and cheering.

and praying.

and encouraging.

and writing.

and pouring your life out into mine, all because of this tiny little blog out in the middle of a big blogosphere. It is a scary thing for me some days to come here and write, to lay my heart open and vulnerable to criticism and misunderstanding. But you have made it worth it all. You have championed me despite myself. You have dumped massive amounts of grace over me, and I just wanted to say thank you.

I look forward to another year of growing together towards Him.

And hey, thanks for not taking me too seriously - it's not about me - it's all about Him.
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