Jumping Jax

prophylactic.

2024-09-01T21:01:00.001-05:00

I’m predictable. Safe. I don’t make rash decisions or very brave ones at that. When I was 23, a dentist told me I had my very first cavity. In disbelief I went home to process the information. I returned two years later to have the cavity filled. The shock of “something being wrong” and the fear of fixing it froze me. So I did nothing.

Fast forward. I’ve lived a lot of life since then. Marriage. Infertility. Adoption. Moving overseas. Pregnancy. Miscarriage. My own bladder cancer diagnosis. My mother’s breast cancer diagnosis. My grandmother’s breast cancer diagnosis. Both of their funerals.

I’m still all of the things I first mentioned. And probably more so. I now understand why “old people resist change.” I’m one of them. When my mom was sick, we had a lot of deep conversations. “I’m afraid for my family to live without me.” “Let’s talk about my funeral.” And this one… “Have you thought about getting genetic testing?” I didn’t see the point because safe people don’t react unless it’s absolutely necessary. But I obliged. For my mother.

BRKA negative. I immediately felt safe. Why rock a boat that doesn’t need rocking? Why fix something that isn’t broken? Why add anything else to a plate that most days couldn’t hold salt sprinkled on top?

For me, mammograms brought comfort for about a week. And then I started holding my breath until a breast MRI 6 months later. It was a viscous cycle of short-lived comfort followed by a lot of anxiety in between. I never had one questionable thing show up. No signs of anything being wrong. But I just couldn’t shake the thought of missing a birthday, missing a Christmas, missing a soccer game.

And then I added a new word to my vocabulary: prophylactic.

Definition: intended to prevent disease.

I began to hear my mother’s words so frequently: “If I were you, I’d do it.” My mother, who was also BRKA negative, but was not safe from this terrible disease.

So last week I stepped away from the comfort of routine. I signed my name on the admissions papers for a prophylactic double mastectomy. And guess what? I did it. I walked the same road of my mother and grandmother, but this time by choice with the intention of preventing disease.

Am I guaranteed to never get cancer? Certainly not. But I’ve lowered my risk of breast cancer to 1%. I could get any number of cancers tomorrow but today I just know this was the right choice for me.

Why do I share something so personal? Because of the very brave women who shared with me. A friend who walked this road because of other medical conditions that warranted a double mastectomy. A friend whose family has recently seen cancer roll through her family in unfathomable ways and decided this was best for her. A friend whose story looks a lot like mine- no BRKA gene, but just didn’t want to worry anymore. These ladies have been open books, no questions were off limits, and encouragement has been endless.

I’ve said this before. One of my favorite verses is:

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.—2 Corinthians 1:3-4

I share that story because if it helps one person, it was worth it! If I’ve learned one thing it’s that our stories are never in vain. Every single thing we walk through can be shared to help, encourage, or comfort others. But only if we share them.

So there’s my story! If you’ve ever considered adding the word prophylactic to your vocabulary or cancer forces you to make this choice, I am also an open book. I don’t have all the answers but I can share the road I’ve walked to comfort others.

Storm Clouds and Rainbows

2019-01-30T10:32:00.000-06:00

I recently finished a book that opened by revealing the ending. I wondered why the author would give away all the good stuff in the first few lines. But as I began to meander through each and every chapter to see what brought them to such a conclusion, I realized that the ending was only half of the journey. So if you will, I’d like to start this post with a big conclusion:

Jason and I are expecting our 5th AND 6th babies in early June!

But without the details, I’m afraid you are missing a best-selling novel! So without further ado….

If you’ve known me for any amount of time, you know that infertility is part of my story. I didn’t choose it, but it has shaped me in more ways than one. Shortly after Jason and I married, we were ready to start a family. And while we were ambitious in our efforts, we quickly found out that we weren’t completely in control of that show! After at least a year of trying on our own, we looked into medical assistance. While medical advancements are happening everyday, 2002 left us with very few answers. After trying a few things that obviously failed, we were tired. It was an emotional 28 day roller coaster that just seemed to be happening over and over with no happy ending and we finally decided we needed a break.

While adoption was always an option, I needed to work my way through some other closed doors. Jason, however, was a HUGE advocate and really throttled us forward. In 2004 we began a year long process that ended in Ukraine. There we met a big brown-eyed 2 1/2 year old that needed a mom and dad just as much as we needed him. And just like that, after all those tears, heartache, closed doors, and questions, we became a family in 2005!

While we considered adopting again, there’s something about that first child. It’s easy to wonder if you should just stop there. It’s hard to imagine that you could love another baby or that there is room for others in the circle of three. Thankfully, the Lord perfectly orchestrated what we couldn’t foresee. Just two years later a forwarded letter found us with news of a baby that would be arriving in just a few short months. Although I had to pinch myself as we waited to be sure it was all real, that adoption worked out in the most beautiful way. We welcomed a second baby boy in 2008. And I would have thought that this was our complete family!

Our rhythm as a family was good. Jason and I were happy, had jobs we loved, two boys that adored each other, great friends, but we began to wonder if there was more in our future. This time it wasn’t more babies, but rather moving around the world for foreign missions. We moved to India in 2011 for an exciting adventure that we could have never anticipated.

One thing I quickly learned is that the typical missionary family has LOTS of kids. Maybe the many births of our friends while there was the culprit, but for whatever reason, all those old questions from our years of infertility started surfacing again. I eventually found a doctor that was willing to look into our situation further. And for the first time, we had some answers! Those answers, modern medicine, and the Lord’s graciousness brought us some of the most exciting news in 2013. We were expecting TWINS… a dream of mine since my dad is a twin! Although I was overwhelmed with joy, it was quickly overshadowed in the beginning with signs that one baby may have down syndrome. And while we are pro-life and trust the Lord in how he uniquely makes each of us, it was a long pregnancy full of worries and questions. Thankfully in 2014, I delivered two healthy babies, a boy and a girl.

In 2018, we celebrated big birthdays for all four of our children… a fifteen year old, a ten year old, and 2 four year olds! It is easy to say that our quiver is full and we are beyond blessed. Our house is loud, overflowing, and never dull! But just as I was settling into parenting a teenager through preschoolers, the plot changed.

In August, I experienced something I’d never experienced in my life… a missed cycle. Initially I didn’t even notice because it had never happened. But as I counted back on a calendar, I couldn’t argue that something was going on. For the first time I bought a pregnancy test and I nearly died when two lines appeared. THIS WAS UNCHARTERED TERRITORY FOR ME! I couldn’t even think of a creative way to tell Jason so I just showed him the test. Not one to believe in a $1 test, he insisted we buy “a real test” and five tests later, we were left with the same results- we were having a fifth baby!

I made an appointment with a doctor but it was a few weeks away. In the meantime, we let the shock settle in and started to talk about this new baby. I was so smitten and couldn’t believe that the Lord had chosen to bless us with this incredible surprise after all these years. I didn’t even know I wanted a baby…. but suddenly, it consumed my every thought!

And then— it was gone. While visiting a theme park with the kids one Saturday, I knew something wasn’t right. And by Sunday morning, it was clear that the pregnancy was ending in a miscarriage. I tried to shake off the sadness, the disappointment, the void- but I was devastated. To have never even met this baby, it was a part of me, and I struggled to move on. I had so many questions but no answers… just a new chapter in my book called miscarriage.

I went ahead to that doctor’s appointment just to be sure that everything was okay. They confirmed what I already knew, but I relived the loss yet again. The doctor assured me that my body would return to its normal rhythm soon, and in the meantime, I waited for the sadness to go away and life to carry on as usual.

But my body didn’t seem to fall back in line. After waiting another four weeks or so, I finally needed some confirmation that I wasn’t pregnant- that my body was just still healing from the miscarriage. Imagine the lump in my throat when those two lines so abruptly appeared for a second time in two months. Again, I rushed to show Jason those confusing lines. I needed him to make sense of it all.

While he could confirm that he also saw two lines, I needed to see a doctor, a heartbeat, something, anything! So I made an appointment for blood work. The numbers definitely indicated that I was pregnant, but they left me with more questions. They were awfully high for the timing of a pregnancy. So I made an appointment for an ultrasound. My google search told me that those high numbers could be a complication. I waited with a pounding heart while she carefully scanned my abdomen, afraid to breathe. And then she stopped.

I was prepared for the worst. And then she pointed to a black opening on the screen. Inside was the tiniest little peanut… a baby. It was REAL- a beating heart and all. But she wasn’t finished. A second sac- another baby- another beating heart. My stomach flutters as I even recall that moment. How did I go from such fullness from four children, to such loss after a miscarriage, to such joy and the blessing of a second set of twins? It’s still very surreal!

I never fully understood the term “rainbow baby” or should I say “rainbow BABIES?” And then it happened to me. I won’t say that the idea of parenting 6 children didn’t take our breath away. Jason actually cried real tears at one point, and I laughed for at least two straight weeks. I will celebrate my 39th birthday just before they are born and Jason will be 42 in February. We aren’t as young as we once were- that’s for sure! But I also trust the Lord! Clearly He has plans for us that we never could have dreamed up. His ways are good, and His gifts for his children are abundant. I couldn’t be more thankful for these rainbows after that unplanned storm. His timing is never wrong... even after 18 years.

So, here’s to 2019, TWINS, and trying to recall how we actually survived it the first time through. Certainly we learned a few things the first round and will knock this out of the park! I think Jason and I can also both agree that six is a good stopping point! We are certainly blessed!

Wondering about the gender?

Baby BOY Marlin and Baby GIRL Marlin have a due date of June 9, 2019, but I expect we will meet them before then! We covet your prayers as they continue to grow strong!

Round 2.

2018-04-09T00:06:00.000-05:00

Last week, I turned 38. I was fortunate to spend the day with my family and my parents who were visiting from Georgia. On Friday, my children said their goodbyes to Gigi and JD. After I tucked them all in, I quietly descended the stairs to find my husband praying over my precious mama.

In 2015, my mama battled breast cancer. She boldly faced weeks of chemotherapy, surgery, and all that goes along with each of those. A few months into her own battle, she walked through the same nightmare with her mother. This year would have been her two-year mark, the one everyone pushes towards. Some high numbers in her bloodwork sent her on a roller coaster the next few weeks. There were some "we think it could be something"s, followed by some "it's probably nothing"s, that led to a "maybe we'll wait a test again in a few months," that ultimately led to a biopsy. The biopsy made things clear, and tomorrow, she'll begin Round 2 of a road that no one wants to travel twice.

A few months before our family moved to India, I came across this verse:

While I can't see the future, I can see the past. And my mama has exemplified this verse. At a time when she could have wallowed in self-pity, she saw her affliction as an opportunity. A chance to pray for others who were suffering from cancer. An opportunity to speak encouragement into the lives of struggling friends. A time to make items and send to a cancer facility for those who'd come after her and could use a little sunshine in their day. I've watched her help nurse my grandmother back to health when she herself was struggling physically and emotionally. And I've seen her be transformed by a disease that could have stolen all of her joy, yet strengthened her in ways I couldn't have imagined.

Tomorrow she'll undergo surgery for breast cancer a second time. If you know me, chances are you know my wonderful mother. There aren't many people in our lives that haven't been touched by her generosity and love. Maybe she's cooked for you, sewn for you, or just helped you out at school during her many years of being a secretary. Maybe she's a neighbor to you that goes above and beyond sharing some milk and sugar. Maybe she's your fellow church member that pours into your little ones on Wednesday night or during VBS. Maybe you sit in Sunday School with her or share a pew in worship. Whatever your tie is to her, I know she's been a light to you.

My family would so covet your prayers and encouragement for her tomorrow. That she'd have a peace that comes only from the Lord. That the doctors would have steady hands and make wise decisions. That she'd walk away from this a second time, healthy and strong. But most importantly that she'd be a light for Christ along the way.

Here's to Round 2! And clinging to the promise that He's got the whole world in His hands... even my precious mama!

Christmas. 2017

2017-12-25T16:04:00.002-06:00

Today is Christmas--- December the 25^th in all its’ glory! As I look outside my Missouri window, I see beautiful white snow covering every horizontal surface. I’m slowly taking down years of accumulated Christmas decorations, doing laundry from last night, and nursing sick people, including myself. Actually, I’m supposed to be sitting around a room with family that we don’t see very often. But this year, five out of six of our clan have fallen victim to the flu! It’s been eventful, but not at all in a good way! All the same, it seems to be what makes Christmas for us!

When I was growing our Christmases were so predictable and safe! I literally knew every step of them long before they happened. Each year, we drug out the exact same Christmas decorations… the blue-faced angel my brother colored as a child, the trio of porcelain Christmas mice, the collection of Belkie bears, and a wide-variety of others. We visited grandparents like clockwork, opened our one present on Christmas Eve, and then awoke to a full room of Santa’s delivery on Christmas morning! It was perfectly perfect and it never ever changed. And I liked it very much.

And then I got married (which was a good thing, by the way!) But that little Georgia Christmas changed. I lived six hours away from them, and although I still made it home, it looked different. And nothing about our Christmases has ever looked predictable. I can’t help but ponder them all today.

There was the Christmas in 2005 when we were waiting on a judge in Ukraine to sign over rights to a two year old and make us the parents we’d dreamed of. We came home to a house where a church family had put up and decorated a tree for our new family of three!

In 2008, we were waiting on yet another addition to our family. Not knowing when Max’s mother might give birth, we were hesitant to drag out lots of decorations, so we pulled down a small tree on Christmas Eve and a few balls. It was our last Christmas as a family of three.

In 2011, we spent our first Christmas abroad! Not thinking Christmas decorations were a priority, we didn’t bring any with us. Instead we lucked up on the saddest tree you’ve ever seen at a mall in India. We paid almost $100 for it and loaded it up with homemade ornaments.

In 2012, the same tree was in place, but an accident with a saw would leave our little family of four sitting in an Indian hospital praying that Jason’s arm would be okay. Luckily, he would heal, but it scared us all!

In 2013, we sat on a beach in Thailand. I was VERY pregnant with twins. We buried a little tree in the sand and shared our last Christmas as a family of four. It was an absolute dream.

And then there’s this year. The flu. Lots of laundry, Tylenol, and Tamiflu. Hopefully Jack will remain standing! Fortunately, in preparation to head south for Christmas, we opened presents with our kids last week. So everyone had a few days of health to enjoy all of their toys!

Maybe we will make it south soon, but there’s a chance we won’t! All the same, this is what Christmas is made of for our family of six! And each of them… the good ones, the bad ones, the scary ones, the exciting ones… they are perfectly perfect! And I like them very much!

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

a teacher's fingerprints.

2017-02-12T21:10:00.000-06:00

I'm a teacher. I began at the age of four with a few lifeless dolls. I've taught in church, covered a variety of grades in public school, and have even taught my own children. I'm in a new season these days... substituting a little on the side. I have forgotten so much in the last few years. A teacher's job is so difficult. Meeting federal mandates can often be tricky enough, but don't forget that states, districts, and even individual school administrations have their own plans for you. Much of your day is spent managing individual behavior plans, modifying lessons to meet ALL students, and somehow trying to keep your own sanity. And even after my short, infrequent days of substituting, I often recall those feelings from my past of "Why did I choose this?" Much of a teacher's time is spent dealing with anything BUT teaching. And let's be honest... we've all found ourselves one discipline referral away from complete burnout! But every afternoon I pick up a nine year old. He may not be nine or a boy, but he's in your class. His presence is often overshadowed by all that is going on, but he's there. And on the days that you go home and begin listing all the other possible professions you could take on tomorrow, I wanted to remind you about him!

He's the kid that cries on the first weekend after school starts. Real tears. Because he wants to go to school. Every. Day.

He often calls his mama "Mrs. Johnson," because you actually spend more waking hours with him than I do. When I make him fresh, out-of-the-oven muffins in the morning, he always wants to know if there are enough to bring one for you! Often times he comes home and is deeply troubled at the way another student treated you, struggling to understand the actions of a student that has wronged you. The little seed that you buried in class and sent home as a tiny seedling--- it's sitting on our kitchen counter. It's a seventh member of our family, and I sweat every time it begins to droop.

When you do a project in class, he's quick to come home and duplicate it for us all. He is eager to share your joy of teaching with his entire family.

His bulletin board is littered with things that bring him joy, and so many of them are from your class.

When he makes his birthday list, you are at the top. In fact, he thinks to invite you to almost anything... because you've showed him that you value him and that means surely you'd want to see his three minute shepherd performance in the church Christmas program! And when you actually show up--- well, that's enough to explode his little heart (and his mama's!) When you read a book aloud in class, he begs to check it out from the public library so he can follow along as you read each day. At dinner, rather than chit chat about his day, he takes time to tell us all how our hamburger is like a main idea and everything else on it is a detail... certainly something he's heard from you. A chance meeting with you in the grocery store is equivalent only to meeting an extinguished dignitary! You are so much more than an 8 AM to 3 PM figure in his life.

He says that one day he's going to be a doctor or a preacher. And maybe he will be. But whatever he becomes, your fingerprints will be on it, because you loved him, encouraged him, and taught him. He'll be better next year than he was last year, because you stayed the course and made learning fun and engaging!

So heads up, Teachers! There are a lot of these boys--- and girls--- counting on you. Tomorrow when you correct that child for the fifth time and the tardy bell has yet to ring, when that student still can't do long division even though you've shown her just shy of a thousand times, and your administration sends out one more thing that has to be done today, just remember how powerful your fingerprints are! Place them carefully and remember why you do what you! And know that he wakes up every morning wondering what incredible thing you have planned for him today! No pressure... he already thinks you are amazing!

more little things.

2016-09-20T21:22:00.001-05:00

{a list of gratitude.}

1. Fall weather and homework on the porch.

2. My future Picasso.

3. His determination to do things his way (and boots that have been around for all three boys)

4. A husband that prays over his children.

5. The way she always asks her to "paint [her] toes!"

6. His creativeness with my blush.

7. His amazing growing skills.

8. The way she loves a baby.

9. Partners for life.

10. Tomatoes that grow a little too close, but sweet neighbors that still love little thieves.

11. His ability to tap into his "girly side" when she asks him to play.

12. Toothpaste. Lots and lots of toothpaste.

13. Long chats with an eight year old after some hard days. And the notes he leaves for me in "our notebook." Praying he always keeps me in his loop!

little things.

2016-06-30T11:40:00.000-05:00

I love the phrase "It's just a phase." I've used it so much in the last ten years of my life. It seems that being a parent leaves you with this longing to see certain phases pass away, coupled with a deep desire to freeze time in the more endearing moments. I longed to be a mom for so long- even as a young girl with baby dolls scattered around my room. I didn't foresee a future of infertility, adoption, or twin babies. And despite this undeserved gift of four children, I can still find myself longing for a retreat from it all on the hard days.

My days are no less than a marathon. Beginning with two early risers that don't wake up slowly, but rather at full speed and into everything. Not long after, our full army joins the fun and it's on! Meals, laundry, discipline, schooling, cleaning, discipline, encouragement, entertaining, more meals, more discipline, and more, more, more!

Despite the craziness of what looks like utter chaos to the outsider, I love this little life. It may not seem like much to some, or maybe it's too much to others, but for me- it's a perfect mess! I'd also be lying if I didn't admit that I am constantly reminding myself to love this little life. My days are filled with all the junk that we all face. But I have a choice of where I place my focus. The last thing I do each night is ask my boys, "What was the best thing that happened today?" It's always fun to me to know what specific thing stuck out as memorable and meaningful. It's rarely anything big. Often times something I didn't even notice. Which reminds me that someone was right when they said, "It's the little things in life!"

So because I'm stubborn, I want to be more intentional about celebrating "my little things." Those sweet little blessings that the Lord sprinkles throughout my day to remind me just how much he loves me. To be thankful for the "good days" and the "hard days" and the "I'll die if I have to live through another one of these days"! To say that "He has blessed us" would be the greatest understatement. We are sinking in His grace, love, and mercy.

So here's to all the little things in my life... an on-going list of the little things that add up to mean EVERYTHING to me each day.

1. The missing front tooth phase and forgetful tooth fairies that scrounge up extra change on the third day of forgetting.

2. The trains that all three boys have played with. And reminders that this one is no longer a baby.

3. Family worship on our back porch. A place where you can literally "come as you are."

4. Fathers who are worthy of imitating.

5. Celebrating a new teenager. And his graciousness to be okay with the only candle we could find in our house!

6. Little girls who are too big to hold hands but will compromise at holding on to your shirt. Always on her terms!

7. Friends who offer to watch your kids while you enjoy a lunch with your husband. Friends like this are priceless jewels.

8. Pigtails.

9. Big brothers and bull rides on a summer night.

10. A chair that is big enough to hold them all.

11. And one girl in a houseful of boys.

when her no meant yes.

2016-06-27T14:55:00.000-05:00

If I had to ere on one side, I'd say my parents were strict growing up. Not in the Cinderella way. I can rarely recall ever having consistent chores (although I did a few occasionally.) But when I think back to the years when I started asking more permission for bigger things, my mother often answered with a very firm "No." It wasn't a surprise. Fortunately, my mother and daddy were pretty consistent. They didn't change much based on other parents' decisions for their children. If I felt a little leery in asking, I usually knew the answer before I asked.

But isn't growing up a funny little thing? I read a quote recently that said, "By the time a daughter knows her mother was right, she has a daughter who thinks she's wrong." This resonates so much with me as my children grow and begin to question me more.

As Jason and I seek to raise children that truly love the Lord, I often think about the choices my parents made for me. The tough calls. The "everybody else is doing it" pleas. And most importantly the "Nos." I recently told her that I never ever thought of her decisions for me as too harsh. Somewhere along the way I learned to see her "nos" as more than that. They were full of "yeses!

When I was in elementary school, Levi came out with their new "Button Your Fly" slogan. All I wanted was a t-shirt with that plastered across the front. She said, "No." I even got one from a friend for my birthday. She said, "Take it back." But she also said, "Yes." "Yes, I will teach you to choose words carefully. Even when slang is not being used, I'll teach you that there are just better choices and what we wear [and say] matters."

When I was venturing out of elementary school, EVERYONE (and I still mean E.V.E.R.Y.O.N.E) went to movies on Friday nights. My mom said, "No." But she also said, "Yes." "Yes, you can rent movies, invite friends over, stay up late, and whatever else makes a sixth grade girl happy. But I'm here to protect you and that's what I'll do. Even if it makes you angry."

When I started junior high, a new crop of people entered my life. I asked if I could spend the night with these "new friends." She said "no." But she also said "Yes." "Yes, invite them over here. Invite them into our home, to sit around a dinner table with us. And know that we love these new friends of yours, but we love you more. Our number one job is to guide you, until you are ready to make good choices for yourself!"

When I was in junior high, I wanted a tight-fitting mini skirt. She said, "No." I bought it myself. She said "Take it back." She won. But she also said, "Yes." She said, "Yes, you are beautiful and no doubt look cute! But you are being looked at by more than me. And our bodies aren't meant to show off. We will wear clothes that honor ourselves and the boys around us. Modest is always best."

Off and on in these years, I looked for reasons not to go to church, because I was too tired and wanted to sleep in. (I laugh even as I type that.) She said, "No." But she also said yes. "Yes, you can stay home, but you'll spend the rest of the day in your bed. (true story) Yes, we will make church a priority. Yes, it will come first and if you are too tired from the previous nights, we can help you get to bed earlier by keeping you home!" (I am probably most thankful for this "no" than any other.)

When I was fourteen, I crossed paths with a very cute guy in high school. So cute I happened to marry him. I asked if I could date him. She said, "No." I was probably mad. But she also said, "Yes." "Yes, I will let you be fourteen. You'll never be this age again. You'll have lots of dating years. But now is not the time. Be a young girl. Spend time with friends. Cheer. Live the life of a fourteen-year-old."

When I was fifteen, I showed persistence, but this time that now senior boy asked her instead. She said, "No. She may not go on dates with you." But she also said "Yes." "Yes, you may come to our home each weekend and sit in our family room with her. You may show us that you will respect her and respect us. And in time, when we are ready, maybe, just maybe, you can actually take her away from our home!"

When I was sixteen, I asked if I could stay out as late as everyone else. Eleven seemed so early. But she said, "No." But she also said, "Yes." "Yes, I'll trust you to be out longer than is probably necessary. Yes, I'll give you a chance to make good choices. Yes, we will give you a car that is too nice, more spending money than you need, and also, more privileges than you might be ready for. But we are trusting you to use them all wisely and make good choices. And to be home promptly at 11:00."

As I closed my bible this morning, I stopped at Proverbs and chapter 2 caught my attention. "My son, do not forget my teaching, but let your heart keep my commandments, for the length of days and years of life and peace they will add to you. Let not steadfast love and faithfulness forsake you; bind them around your neck; write them on the tablet of your heart."

My to-do list includes putting that verse where each of my children can see it daily. So that when they hear the many "nos" I give out each day, they are consumed with all the "yeses" that are hidden behind them. "Yeses" to pursue God, His love, His goodness, His ways. "Yeses" to keep His commandments and grow into men and women who will one day say "no" to my grandchildren with full of intentions of saying "yes" to Him!

the c word.

2015-10-22T07:36:00.001-05:00

Nineteen months ago, just three short weeks after Maggie and Gray were born, I left my house early one morning. I hailed a taxi, checked myself into a local hospital in Bangkok, Thailand, and I awaited my turn for surgery. While pregnant with Maggie and Gray, a technician noticed "something unusual" on my bladder during an ultrasound. Even as they wheeled me into the operating room alone, I remained unconcerned. But when that sweet Thai doctor stood over me in the recovery room and said, "It is looking like the cancer," my world shook slightly. Fortunately, it was followed by words like "completely gone," "no treatments needed," and "low probability of recurrence." In my mind, it seemed small.

But two weeks ago, I found myself on the other side of that conversation. The boys and I were deep into a study of cells, drawing and labeling the parts, discussing our cells' amazing ability to decipher what belongs and what doesn't, and the phone rang. It was both of my parents, and the conversation began with "We don't want to put a damper on your day but...."

They begin to replay the last few days of their lives. "Doctors' appointments... mammogram... mass... biopsy... almost positive it's cancer." The words just kept coming and none of them were lovely. In those moments, all I could think of was what we didn't know.

Two weeks later, we know more. It's Stage 2 and will require chemotherapy for starters. Some sort of surgery will follow, but that has yet to be determined. And while my earthly, sinful side wants to focus on the questions still at hand, the Lord is slowly reminding of all the things that I can be confident of. He's softly whispered Isaiah 55:8-9 every day to me since that dreaded phone call: "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways," declares the Lord. "As the heavens are higher that the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts." Though I don't understand why that spot showed up in her breast, I am confident that He does and He will use it for His glory.

He's shown His face in small and big ways already. The sweet lady at the wig shop that asked my mom if she could pray for her before she left. The God-fearing doctor that had already prayed for God to direct His hand on the day that he placed the port, but also prayed with my mom before he even began the procedure to still her heart and her nerves. Sweet prayers from my twelve year old for a "Gigi" that he loves dearly. And reminders that life is short and to treasure every opportunity with her (and my dad!)

Most of you who read this have met my mom. You know that she is one of the most generous people, always going out of her way to serve others and does it to the best of her ability. If she's got it and you need it, she'll give it to you. If you need help and she is able, she'll fix you up! She's hard-working, caring, and loves people. She's a gem, for sure. But the thing about her that I've thought of the most since all this surfaced is that she loves Jesus. And honestly, knowing that makes all the difference in how we face cancer. It is not bigger than our God, it is not stronger than her salvation, and it is not going to thwart His plans for her! In that I have confidence.

Today is Day 1 of a grueling couple of weeks for her, so I'm praying extra big prayers for her this morning- prayers of peace, prayers of healing, and prayers of comfort. We go way back... 35 years and 6 months to be exact, and I'm planning on 35 more. As I sit here hundreds of miles away, I can't do much physically to help. But if you hear the faint sound of cheering and yelling, know that we Marlins are covering you in prayer and cheers today. Here's to kicking cancer's behind! I love you, Mama!

let them be little.

2015-04-11T21:37:00.000-05:00

One week ago, I turned 35- an age I used to consider old. My mother had me when she was 30 years old, and I've always told people, "She had me when she was older." Funny how that feels different when those shoes are on my feet.

This week, I pulled out my wedding album to show the boys that their daddy did in fact have hair once. Jason and I enjoyed laughing and comparing our bodies then and now. I chatted back and forth with my childhood best friend about it late that evening... wondering why my cheeks were so full, noticing that there were no bags under my eyes, and that much had changed in those 15 years. I'm aging. And that's okay. It's better than the alternative, right?

At 35, you're supposed to be mature, have scars to show for all your growing up, dig for gray hairs and pull them out quick before anyone notices them, and pull on your skin to see if plastic surgery really could get rid of those bags. It's a natural progression of life. And it's the reason that people are always trying to sell anti-aging cream to us!

As I struggle to raise four kids, I see that the world is sending them an entirely different message... not a message of "Reverse the effects of aging." But a message of "Grow up, and do it quickly." It's a heartbreaking, confusing message for our babies who just want to be little.

Each night I watch four kids hop in baths and hop out... some actually climb in and out against the wishes of their mother. All four are at different stages of life. Some standing outside the doors of puberty, using deodorant for the first time, and probably questioning everything about his eleven year old body. Some with long, gangly legs that are not quite proportionate to his skinny little body. Some wearing cellulite bottoms, adorned with rolls, and not worrying about how they look in their jeans yet or really caring if they have clothes on, for that matter!

But the world we live in is begging them to grow up. It sends out advertisements for bikinis that will fit my 14 month old daughter. It wants me to dress her as though her sweet, squishy little body should revealed like that of a Victoria's Secret supermodel. It longs for my eleven year old to accidentally venture into pornography and camp out there as he matures. It looks down upon the days where it was funny to watch Wile E. Coyote attempt to catch the Road Runner and replaces it with cartoons loaded with adult humor and topics that my eleven and seven year old just aren't ready to tackle.

Some call it "sheltering them" but I call it "allowing them to be little." It's over so fast. The days where your greatest worry is which cereal to choose. The days where your most difficult job is making your bed. The days where your parents are there to help you make even the simplest decisions each day and there to catch you when your fall.

My favorite days are when my boys pretend and dress up, play late into the night on the trampoline, and belly laugh at the games they've made up that I don't understand. And as much as I want them to stay innocent and small, I often let the world impact my actions. Those contrary words come out of my mouth... "Please act your age." "Please don't act like a baby." "How old are you again?" My mother once gave me some wise advice: "Let them decide when they're too big for _________." Does that mean one day my eleven year old will give up the occasional opportunity to dress up for fun? Absolutely. Does that mean my seven year old will one day quit carrying around the blanket that he sleeps with every single night? For sure. Can I assume that one day my babies will give up pacifiers, naps, sippy cups, and diapers? All in due time, my friends. Those wet, sloppy kisses straight on the mouth, the days of crawling up in your lap, and the days that they sit at your feet while you take your one bathroom break will all go, too.

Perhaps, one day they'll pull out their wedding album for their children to look through. And they'll laugh at some of their physical changes and cringe at others. But I hope that as they age, they'll have fond memories of their childhood. The days where we made rules about which TV channels they could watch. The days where we urged them to play outside and to turn off devices. The days where we ate dinner every evening together and talked to each other between bites. The days where they made sweet, sweet memories because we let them be little!

utter chaos.

2015-04-08T21:00:00.000-05:00

The daily calendar had just been completed over the whines and cries of two 14 month old babies. And the most important part of our day had begun. The boys had their Bibles out and I was prepared to lay out those important Biblical foundations... the ones that, for us, trump learning Math and Reading. And the first baby yanked on my leg. In an effort to keep the older boys focused, I picked up that sticky-faced little girl, who really didn't want to be held at all. She preferred crawling across the school table. Her oh-so-sleepy brother wasn't far behind and was soon begging to be held, so while the boys found our Scripture for the day, I filled my lap with more chaos- Two babies, that wanted to be held, but didn't want to be held, but cried when you put them down. And by this time, the oldest boy was in the floor petting our dog, and the youngest was serenading us on his ukulele.

Have you ever found that your norm is utter chaos? That's the stage where I find myself. I wake up and race to fix my cup of coffee before the first baby cries, because this mama can't be a mama without that piping hot miracle juice! I balance reading my Bible with a game of "Fetch the Cheerios" to entertain Maggie and Gray. At 7:30, I race out the door for the only silence I'll get all day, which involves exercising a body that is long overdue for some physical activity. As I return home, I tag hands with Jason as he walks out the door and I'm back to reality... chaos!

By now, the Huddle House is in full swing, as I prepare four different breakfast items and take a bite of each to sustain myself. While they shovel food, I take a shower, because cleanliness is next to Godliness, right? Maybe not, but I'm nicer when I'm clean. By this time, the fearless four have finished eating, and I'm a multi-tasker at her best- drying my hair, encouraging boys to get dressed even though we aren't really going anywhere, reminding boys to brush their teeth that they seem to have forgotten for an unmentionable amount of days, and entertaining babies by blowing the hairdryer in their faces, handing out hair brushes as toys, and begging them to stay out of the toilet water! And please don't lick the water off your hands.

You're already jealous, aren't you, and it's only 9:00 AM! School starts at 9:00, and though it's not perfect, most days we actually get through EVERY subject. It's a juggling act- give instructions, fill up sippy cups, listen to the youngest read, get the baby down from the table, check Math work, break up fights over pacifiers, and on and on and on. Somewhere in there the babies actually take a nap, and the morning session of school is completed. I now resume my second job as a short-order cook, creating masterpieces like PB&J, fish sticks, and some fresh fruits and veggies for my guilty conscience.

The remainder of the day is equally as wild. The babies take another nap, but that restful time is spent finishing school with Jack and Max, cleaning, or making plans for supper. And once everyone is awake, there's a constant hum of commotion until bedtime: fighting and making up, crying and giggling, "no-nos" and "good jobs", surface conversations and deep life-altering questions.

At around 9:30 PM, they are all safely tucked in their beds, sleeping soundly or laying there pretending at least! And I find a dark corner to unwind silently and reflect on the the production of our day.

The fact is our day is almost always categorized as "utter chaos." From the time I run to grab that cup of coffee in the morning to the quiet, half sane moment I spend in the dark corner late at night, most of our days are crazy, unplanned, chaotic events that would drive an OCD person straight to the HaHa House.

But it's the most beautiful chaos I've ever seen. It's my chaos. The one with the little boy from Ukraine that I prayed for harder than anything in my life. It's filled with the green-eyed blond that puts a smile of the saddest face. It's the babies after years of infertility that can scale sheetrock and give Houdini a run for his money! It's the husband that demonstrates love and selflessness repeatedly each day.

So this morning, amidst my desires to finish that darn Bible lesson and to juggle all that surrounded me, we just stopped. The boy on the floor took a picture of the chaos. The chaos that will all too soon be gone. The chaos that I'll long for. The chaos that was beautifully and perfectly planned for me! So here's half of my chaos, half of my heart, and half of the reason that I fall asleep so quickly every night! Utter chaos at its best! (And minus make-up because who has time for make-up!)

In thirty years I'm going look back at this blog and wonder where I was, why my postings cease and randomly show back up. So to my sixty-five year old self: You were enjoying your chaos!

38 reasons.

2015-02-04T15:08:00.000-06:00

I love that he loves me so well.
I love his eyes and how they sparkle.
I love that our girl has those same eyes.
I love his heart for the Lord.
I love when he makes our children laugh.
I love when he wears a baseball cap.

I love that he makes me happy.
I love that I've celebrated birthdays with him since he was 17.
I love when he laughs at movies he's watched a million times.
I love that he is wise with money.
I love that this family is his top priority.
I love when he wrestles with the big boys.

I love that we have such a rich history of struggles and triumphs together.
I love that I've lived on the other side of the world with him.
I love that he is passionate about the local church being on mission.

I love that he is well read and always has an answer to my questions.
I love that his interests are broad: from sports to Broadway musicals.
I love that he helps me cook dinner almost every night.
I love that he doesn't snore.
I love that he likes and appreciates good food.

I love that he studies marriage and constantly works on ours.
I love that he is a planner and big on punctuality.
I love when he holds a baby... particularly ours.

I love that he dreams big.
I love that he challenges people.
I love that he really could have been successful at ANY occupation, but he was chosen for this one.
I love that he listens without talking when I've had a long day.
I love that he never goes to bed alone.
I love that he sits in his chair and reads his Bible before work every morning.
I love when his face gets scruffy after a few days of not shaving.
I love that he loves traveling and dreams of new adventures.

I love that he kisses me every day before he walks out the door.

I love that he lays in the floor to play with the babies every afternoon when he returns home.

I love that he values my opinion.
I love when he asks, "What can I do to help you?"
I love that he chose me.
I love that he text me during the day.
I love that he's the first face and the last face I see each day.

And one to grow on... I love that each birthday with him just gets better and better.

HAPPY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY. I hope I make you even one tenth as happy as you make me! I love you.

lessons on snow from a southern girl.

2015-02-01T22:30:00.000-06:00

I anticipated snow. We knew it happened here, and we knew it was bigger than anything we were accustomed to. I mean let's be honest- a Southern girl only experiences the white stuff on very rare occasions. And it doesn't take many flakes to rock our world. But last night, we prepared to awaken to our first "real snow." So in honor of that, here's a list of the lessons I learned today.

1. It's okay. Even the Northerners clean out the grocery store prior to a suspected snow event. Go ahead and buy your milk and bread. Just to be safe, we hit up Walmart and the grocery store.

2. If you are considering canceling church, don't ask the Southern preacher. The predicted flake on the weather report was enough for him!

3. Remember that snow is very similar to Christmas for your children. Be ready to drop everything and go outside the second they open their eyes.

4. Under no circumstances should you ever put your 11-month-old babies on the ground for a picture. One will most assuredly scream his head off, and the other will look at them with the "what's your problem" look!

5. If three college kids come by and offer to shovel your driveway, throw hundred dollar bills at them, feed them breakfast, and offer to do their laundry just to be sure they stay and do the job.

6. If your "other half" should balk at the idea of hiring the young, strong, college guys, ignore him and hire them anyway.

7. If you find that you've failed on #4 and #5, grab a shovel, but with every scoop of snow, remind "the other half" that three college guys offered to do this horrible, degrading, painful job!

8. Prior to winter, figure out which of your church members is hiding a machine that shovels snow. And get to know them REALLY WELL!

9. Even if a good friend suggest you take your children to sled down a popular hill in town, disregard this idea. Remember you are a Southerner. You've never driven over more than frost. STAY HOME.

10. If you fail on #9, throw hundred dollar bills at the very kind men that push your vehicle out of the snow so that you can return home, and promise them that you'll never drive in snow again.

11. Buy kitty litter to keep in your vehicle, just in case you get stuck and there aren't nice people there to help you out! According to the nice man, it makes great gravel when you need some tread!

12. Definitely make a snow man!

13. If you went to the grocery store prior to the storm (#1) but somehow forgot your carrot to adorn the snowman, just jump in the car and drive to the grocery store to grab some. And ask for forgiveness for breaking the promise you made to those very kind men earlier!

14. As your return from the grocery store, take time to admire the driveway that you JUST shoveled and how it is now covered in fresh snow once again!

15. But most of all, enjoy all that white stuff! It's absolutely beautiful, and despite shoveling the driveway and getting stuck in the snow, it made for a pretty fantastic day! Happy Snow Day, friends!

no place like home.

2015-01-21T14:15:00.000-06:00

This time last year, our family had just finished our third Christmas abroad and away from family. In those three years, we celebrated many holidays, accomplishments, and birthdays as a family of four. We made birthday cakes that would never make the boards of Pinterest, attempted gingerbread houses from homemade graham crackers, ~~plastered~~ adorned our Christmas tree with ornaments made by little hands, and feasted on a banquet of delicious foods with friends for Thanksgiving (minus the turkey.) And while those were sweet, sweet times for our family (more memories than will fit on this page), as every holiday or special event, I still missed home. Not the home that Jason and I created with our boys, but the one where I grew up. The one I shared with a mama and a daddy and a brother.

Our family moved into that house more than twenty years ago. Of all the houses we viewed, for a thirteen year old girl, this was THE ONE. The clincher: I had my own bathroom. What more could it need? I know every corner of it like the back of my hand. The back door, though surely repainted through the years looks best when my daddy is standing on the other side watching for me to come home. The kitchen has made many birthday meals, holiday meals, and typical weeknight meals, between the coming and going of busy teenagers. I know the contents of almost every kitchen cabinet. I can tell you which stair creaks and where to step if you find yourself sneaking up those stairs a little later than is allowed.

The room (that I still call mine) doesn't look the same as it once did. Though it still holds my old bedroom furniture, the signs of a teenage girl are barely visible. But if you open the drawers, the keepsakes are plentiful. The stool in my bathroom is over twenty years of age, as well. I've sat on it many mornings to fix my hair from junior high to college, including the dreaded 'teased bangs' phase. The front yard still holds the tree that barely survived my batting practice in the sixth grade. I thought it was the coolest thing to watch that bark fly off. My daddy was not so impressed.

The backyard began as a large patch of grass, but it would soon hold a pool… the home of many summer memories. I've also watched that same pool be filled with dirt, as the teenagers moved on. I witnessed my brother marry his wife under the trees behind the house. I've sat in that driveway a little longer than I should have with the boy that is now my husband. And I've invited many friends through the years to enter that backdoor and experience the joy that lives inside those walls.

This year I've been back to that house three times already. During one of those visits, we've had a chance to celebrate Jack's 11th birthday, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. Despite requiring a 14 hour trip in the car with four children, I wouldn't' trade those visits for anything in the world.

As my parents age, somehow that house gets bigger. Rooms that once belonged to a blond-haired boy and a brown-haired girl aren't visited quite as often. The three and a half bathrooms are more than enough for the two people that still call it home. And the stairs that we all once bounded up and down are traveled as little as possible.

I fully anticipate that one day, I'll make my last trip to that house. One day, my parents will find the perfect house for their current stage in life. They'll pack up the stuff that fills those rooms and start fresh in a home that will fit them and their needs. And together, we will all continue to make new memories in whatever place they find themselves.

But one thing is certain… though a house doesn't make a home, my heart is written on almost every wall in that house. It's full of some of my best days and some of my worst. And it's a part of me in every way.

One of my favorite things is that I've been able to take my children there. They've sat in the same kitchen and ordered some of Gigi's specialties, they've celebrated holidays and other big events there, and they have made memories there that will always be a part of them. I've watched Jack learn to wash cars with my daddy. I've watched Max curl up in the recliner with my mom and tell her he loves her for the hundredth time. I've seen Gray roll over in their den for the first time and Maggie begin tackling the daunting task of walking, while my daddy stood on guard for the many times she'd fall. And while I wait for that last time I visit the home of my childhood, I'll continue to treasure every meal we share at the table, every time I watch my children run through the sprinklers in the back yard, and every time my daddy waits for me in that back door. There truly is no place like home.

"Home is a place you grow up wanting to leave, and grow old wanting to get back to." --John Ed Pearce

five on friday.

2014-09-12T21:40:00.000-05:00

1. As I type this, it is 48 degrees in Kirksville. FORTY EIGHT!!!!! And by 4 AM, it will be 37 degrees. I did not sign up for this. Where is fall?

2. My kids were probably the only children in the entire city that wore fleece lined boots, gloves, and toboggans today! Don't judge us. We are fragile.

3. We need a hot tub for survival. Anybody?

4. We'd buy our own, but these two are running up our grocery bill.

We are currently going through about $100 worth of formula EVERY WEEK. Gray and Maggie- you can slow down on the drinking. You are literally eating us out of house and hot tub.

5. The good news is we are saving money on this new Walmart Savings Catcher thing. If you haven't checked it out, you should. You simply scan the barcode on your receipt and Walmart does the rest. In a few days, they'll let you know if their competitors have lower prices on your items, and they return the difference to you in a savings card. Can't beat that! Now if I can increase my savings from $3.78 to $100 every week, I'll be in business! Happy Friday!

five on friday.

2014-09-05T23:52:00.001-05:00

1. It's been a LONG week at the Marlin house. One sick baby is tough. Two sick babies is complete TORTURE! We are finally on the up and up, but two nasty colds and a round of Fifths Disease just about did us in. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that this isn't a sign of things to come this winter.

2. We left our army of kids with a babysitter tonight. She seemed unharmed and still breathing when we returned, but I'm sure this crew left a permanent mark on her! We made a really uneducated guess on what to pay her, so it's likely we either paid her way too much or way too little. What is the going rate for babysitting four kids these days?

3. While the babysitter was wrangling our kids, we were out with some great friends enjoying a fabulous dinner and lots of laughter. We also enjoyed their hot tub on a cool Missouri night. This girl could get used to such a thing. Anybody out there have a hot tub that they wanna send this way? We would take good care of it for you!

4.Tomorrow, our boys play in their first soccer games. Jason is the coach of Jack's team and the assistant coach of Max's team. They had ONE practice prior to tomorrow's games, and our little worrier, Jack, is a little apprehensive about the preparedness of his team. He's been doing lots of extra practice on his own though to "help his team win." The YMCA doesn't actually keep score, but I know three guys that will be counting goals! May the best team win...

5. And last but not least.... I got the bright idea to move some chairs to our front porch this week to make it feel a little more welcoming and home-y. Today, I received a letter in our mailbox that stated I should "clear the approach to and exit from the mailbox on both sides" so that the carrier does not "fall of injure their self."

I'm D.Y.I.N.G. over this. I'm generally a rule follower by nature, but I'm struggling with this one. Is that chair really an "obstacle?" Could someone really "fall or injure their self" on it? I'm still on the fence about this. I haven't decided what my course of action will be. I like my chairs out there. So I have three choices: (1) Move the chairs, (2) move the mailbox, or (3) have my service suspended. Decisions. Decisions.

I'm closing this with nine minutes to spare. The time seems to fly ~~you're putting babies back to sleep a hundred times~~ having fun! Happy Friday.

five on friday.

2014-08-29T23:11:00.000-05:00

1. I have so much to tell you, but first... we've finally moved in to our first permanent home in quite a few months. We still have a few boxes to go, but we are slowly settling in to life in Kirksville, Missouri. We joined a church, bought car tags, have Missouri drivers' licenses, and attended a hometown football game tonight. I guess you can call us Missourians!

2. We are currently living in a home that one of our church members has GRACIOUSLY provided until we find a more permanent place. If loaning us a house wasn't enough, our church members STOCKED it with everything we could possibly need. Since we sold most of our household items prior to India, this was such a blessing. Groceries, cleaning supplies, linens, diapers and wipes, and even toys for the boys.... we are so thankful for all those that pitched in on this effort! We were blown away!

3. The babies are growing. They turned six months old nine days ago (huge sigh.) They are changing daily, and watching them grow is so much fun. Maggie continues to hold the lead on weight, and it's no surprise. She can spot a bottle a mile away. Here's a fun video of her trying to play, but something just keeps catching her eye.

I see a bottle. from Sarah Marlin on Vimeo.

4. A few years ago, my mom bought us these dinner time cards with questions on them. We actually have the biblical version, but I think there are others. We saved them until our boys were a little older, because some of the questions require some thought. It's our boys' favorite part of dinner, and they keep us entertained. Last night, we tackled, "If Jesus came to your house, what meal would you serve and what would you talk about?" Max (in all seriousness) said, "BREAD AND WATER!" We pull out all the stops, Jesus, so if you're ever in our neck of the woods, stop by for a prison meal!

5. The weather in Missouri has been so pleasant since we've arrived, but there were a few hot days this week. A fellow church member posted this photo of his home last winter in response to some of the negativity about the warm weather. I felt a very cold chill run down my spine. Our family is going to FREEZE!

In the meantime, we intend to bask in the warmth and enjoy the weekend! Happy Friday.

five on friday.

2014-06-27T21:58:00.002-05:00

1. We arrived back in the United States about two weeks ago. These people were waiting on us when we arrived in Atlanta.

I was thrilled to see my parents, but this girl made my day! Sometimes you get lucky enough to find a friendship that is deeper than time zones and distance!

2. The boys changed quite a bit in those three years that we were gone. It's bittersweet.

3. In fact, THIS BOY turned 11 last week. This week, I had to get his approval for the clothes I bought him. What happened to the days when I bought it, laid it out for him to wear it, and he loved it! Time, stand still!

And to make matters worse, THEY turned four months old last week. Why is it that in the same breath I want them to grow up and learn new and exciting things, yet I want them still be those 4 and 5 pound babies that I first saw on February 20th?

4. This morning, I had a cystocopy done to check my bladder. And PRAISE THE LORD, I got a clean bill of health, which means no cancer this time! I'll keep being scanned every 3 months, but every good report makes the cancer less likely to return!

5. Tonight, Jason and I went on a "date." We had two babies in tow, ate dinner, and finished off the hot date with a trip to Kroger, only to walk the aisles! We are a sad case of missionaries that have missed American food. Don't judge us! Who knows what sort of exciting things we will get into next week! Happy Friday!

five on friday.

2014-05-30T13:29:00.002-05:00

1. This happened on Wednesday. It currently has a protective screen cover on it to prevent shards of glass from sticking in my face or fingertips. Jason says, "It really isn't that bad." Liar, liar. Pants on fire.

2. My boys have been participating in random photo ops (as per their choice) for three years now, but it never ceases to be the weirdest thing to me. Why would someone want a random picture of my children that they don't even know? Crazy. This guy got lucky- Max doesn't give his photo away easily!

3. We are having a yard sale tomorrow. I'd be willing to bet that it will be the first one ever held in Bhopal. Our plan is to start the packing process after the sale.

4. Did I mention that we are leaving in 10 days? Words like excited, elated, and ecstatic come to mind! Now if those bags would just pack themselves. I'm already praying that the "packing Nazi," otherwise known as Jason, and I can agree on what is important to take home and what is not... in other words, I need him to agree with everything I say! That's fair, right?

5. And some random pictures for your Friday...

Sweet eyelashes...

I need more hands...

A serious discussion with Daddy...

And two more...

The End. Happy Friday!

if she were still alive.

2014-05-21T08:39:00.001-05:00

If she were still alive, I'd ask her how surprised she was when she delivered, not one, but two babies some 67 years ago.

I'd ask her how she managed her six and three-year-old boys while taking care of those two baby boys.

I'd want to know if they always slept together or had separate rooms.

I'd ask her if she had to give up making homemade biscuits for a season until her life settled down a bit.

I'd ask her how she got it all done and still had time to shower each day.

I'd want to know her tips for getting them to sleep at the same time and how to soothe them when they cry simultaneously.

I'd ask her how she raised them together, yet loved them as individuals and encouraged them to be unique.

I'd call her often with stories that only a mother of twins could understand.

I'd want to sit at her table for big slice of her 15-layer chocolate cake, while she told me her stories of raising children.

I'd tell her how I always wanted to be "the one" that had the next set of twins in the family.

I'd have called her on that day when I first saw those two tiny blobs on the screen.

I'd ask her if she could see any "Dasher" in Maggie and Gray.

And I'd tell her how proud I am that one of "her twins" is my daddy.

My grandmother died almost 5 years, ago, but oh, how many questions I'd have if she were still alive. As a small girl, I still remember her wondering which grandchild might have twins one day. I NEVER imagined it would me be, but what a special bond I have with her. I've wished a thousand times she could hold them just once. So grateful that she was still alive to meet Jack and Max. She was one in a million!

changing course.

2014-05-16T05:59:00.001-05:00

All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another. ~Anatole France

I've ventured out on a thousand new journeys in my lifetime, and change never comes easy. The quote above perfectly captures the joy of embarking on new adventures, yet the sorrow in saying goodbye to the old! Each road we travel molds us, changes us, and leaves lasting impressions on our lives. They become a part of us, and we mourn the loss of them.

Almost three years ago, we sold most of our possessions, packed 20 bags, and boarded a plane for India. We had never visited this country. We'd hardly been outside of America. But we stepped out on faith with a seven-year-old and three-year-old and tried hard not to look back!

The journey has been amazing. We've experienced spiritual highs-- worshipping with nationals in a foreign language, yet experiencing the love of the God of the Universe. We've grown together as a family and had the opportunity to do life together in a way that few people ever experience. We've taken trips of a lifetime, that usually only make a bucket list, but never get crossed off. We've worked with some of the most incredible teammates in our organization and soaked up a wealth of knowledge from each of them. We've learned to live with less, depend on each other more, and be content when things are beyond our control.

But every journey has its struggles. We've also experienced spiritual lows-- seeing our own sin like never before and finding ourselves longing to worship in our heart language. We've missed our American relationships with family and friends, mentors and co-workers. We've all said more tearful goodbyes than our hearts could handle at times. We've lived in and experienced one of the most poverty-stricken places in the world, and we've found ourselves more than once becoming cold to the sadness that surrounds us each day. We've longed for the comforts of home, missed funerals, births, and holidays, and felt the strain of one foot in America and one foot in India.

Thankfully, the Lord is gracious. He carries us when we can't carry ourselves. He reminds us to be joyful in all things, good and bad. And He loves us when we are on a mountain, but just as much when we fall in the valleys of life.

In one month, we will say goodbye to this place. But it could never be forgotten. You CANNOT come to India and not leave changed. You CANNOT worship with these people and not love our God more. You CANNOT experience the heart of the pastors we've worked with and not long to draw closer to the Lord. And you CANNOT see the darkness that inhabits the hearts of millions of Indians and not cry out for their hearts to be changed from the inside out!

So as we prepare to pack up and head back to America for a new chapter in life, we will spend the next few weeks reflecting on this place that has changed us for the better, loving the teammates that have been our family for the last three years, and praying for the hearts that so desperately need Jesus. In 29 days, we leave this country with 24 bags, a ten-year-old, a six-year-old, two three-month-old babies, and a thousand memories that will never be forgotten. We covet your prayers as we close this chapter of our lives!

Our plans after India--- We fly out of Delhi on June 10th and arrive in America on June 11th. We will spend the month of June in Dublin, Georgia. On July 3rd, we will make our way to Tupelo, MS, where we will spend July. After we reunite with family and friends, Jason will assume the role of Senior Pastor at First Baptist Church, Kirskville, Missouri. We are beyond excited about the coming months and all that is in store!

what's it like?- the train

2014-05-10T11:32:00.000-05:00

In the mid 1800's, India, along with pressure and help from Britain, began building what is now one of the world's largest railway systems. The railway system covers over 71,000 miles, carries nearly 20 million passengers each day, and runs 11,000 trains daily. It's safe to say that it is a vital part of life here in India.

India can best be described as sensory overload-- too many things to see, hear, taste, smell, and touch, leaving you unable to adequately explain it to another person. And for me, the train station is all those senses multiplied by a thousand. If you ever come to India, it's something you should experience. It's much cheaper than traveling by plane, and it offers you a completely different glimpse of India.

There are many different options when it comes to railway travel, and as in all travel situation, the more you pay, the more comfortable your ride will be! When we travel by train, we always purchase the pricier tickets, meaning we pay about $20 per seat. But these tickets guarantee us an assigned seat in an air-conditioned car that is reasonably clean and well-kept.

However, there are two sides to every coin! There are also those tickets which do not guarantee you a seat. These are the carts where you will find an insane amount of people vying for space in an area far too small for it's load, and mother nature will provide the only breeze you feel. The seats are taken on a first come-first serve basis! So what do you do when you find yourself with one of these tickets? You have two options.

The first option involves being first at the door. While this may seem easy, remember you'll be competing with a million other people. And it can be very dangerous in that line. Structured, organized boarding is unheard of!

So option number 2 involves thinking outside the box. If you're lucky enough to find an open window, stick your head in and look for empty seats. If you see one, it's your lucky day! It's important to act quickly, so pass your bag to the nearest passenger, and proceed to enter the train in "an nonconventional way!"

It's best to go ahead and sit, because the next seatless passenger will be along shortly looking for a seat!

I've said it before, but there truly is no place on earth like India! And the train experience is no exception! So, next time you are in India, check it out! It may not be the most glamorous experience, but it offers a cultural experience that is second to none! And if you play your cards right, you might just find yourself riding shotgun on the likes of this.... all aboard!

five on friday.

2014-05-09T21:40:00.002-05:00

1. I'm afraid to mention this for fear I'll jinx it, but Maggie and Gray have been sleeping for 5, 6 and sometimes 7 hour stretches for the last week! Uninterrupted sleep is a beautiful thing, and I hope it continues!

2. I have a new niece, Riley Elizabeth Dasher! The whole crew is doing great, minus the fact that sleep isn't her favorite activity right now (I can relate.) Can't wait to meet her in person!

(And that's my big brother, for those who've never seen a picture! We came from the same gene pool, but we each collected very different genes! Brown hair, brown eyes, and olive skin VS. blonde hair, blue eyes, and fair skin!)

3. Have you changed the settings on your iPhone so that it "flashes" when you receive a text? A friend showed us this last week. It's great for the times when your phone is on mute, but in a dark room, that flash is certain to cause seizures. Follow this link for instructions.

4. We are just about to wrap up our year of homeschooling, and our boys have made great strides. Max is reading anything and everything with words, but he has a lazy gene in his body that leaves him always looking for a shortcut. This week's shortcut... how to keep from writing any words! That boy always makes me laugh. Ten points for creativity...

5. And last but not least... Mother's Day is just around the corner. I know we all think highly of our moms, but I must say, this woman is my superhero! Love you, Mama, and Happy Mother's Day to you!

five on friday.

2014-04-25T13:01:00.000-05:00

1. The hot, new thing at our house is 'sleep deprivation!' I'm definitely not as young as I used to be. I decided these babies are tag-teaming... as one goes to sleep, the other wakes up. It was funny at first, Gray and Maggie, but you can sleep now if you want to!

2. Any twin moms out there have any sleeping advice? What's the magic trick to getting them both asleep at the same time?

3. You've heard the advice, "Sleep when the baby sleeps".... We are trying our best!

(Check out the cheeks on that boy! He's come a LONG way since his days of 4.1 lbs!)

4. Here's a picture for fun... Maggie and her daddy! See any resemblance?

5. And as I close this out, I have two sleeping boys upstairs, a sleeping baby boy in my bedroom, and a sleeping baby girl beside me. I think I'll join them! Good night, friends! Happy Friday!

five on friday.

2014-04-04T22:42:00.000-05:00

1. Let's start with bad news. The C-word was the big topic of the week. Turns out the tumor in my bladder was in fact CANCER. Is anyone ever prepared to hear the doctor say that word? The good news is that the doctor is confident that he removed it all and the surrounding tissues were clean. Apparently, bladder cancer has a 30% chance of reoccurrence, so I'll have to be sure to be checked frequently for any new growths. Cancer is such a mean, ugly disease, that has taken the lives of so many. I'm trying to remain positive and thankful for early detection, easy removal, and hope of no reoccurrence.

2. And now let's quickly move to happier news. The babies had check-ups this week. Both are doing great and gaining weight. Gray has almost doubled his birth weight of 4lb 1oz with a whopping 7lb 11oz. Maggie is the heavyweight going from 5lb 3oz to 8lb 12oz.

3. Yesterday night, we landed in India. We traveled with 6 checked suitcases, 6 carry-ons, 4 backpacks, 1 diaper bag, 1 camera bag, 2 carseats, 1 double stroller, 1 pack n' play, and 4 KIDS. We are so thankful to all the random strangers that carried a bag or a baby for us along the way.

4. Now that we are home, OPERATION LOSE THIS BABY WEIGHT is in session. I'm still not convinced the doctor didn't leave a third baby hanging around in there. That's my story anyways!

5. Today I turn 34. "Thankful" and "blessed" are the only words I can think of! Looking forward to the next year and all that is in store!