Sweet Ayla

I posted this 4 years ago today...

Today my precious baby girl turned 2 years old! (yesterday we had her little party and she was definitely the little "belle of the ball") Memories of her birth flooded my mind all day as I played with her and held her and just stared into her beautiful blue eyes. I am so thankful to God for my darling girl. 

When I found out that I was pregnant with her, Joe was convinced that we would be having twin boys. I didn't believe the ultrasound technician when she told me it was a girl. We actually had five confirmations through ultrasound and I still didn't believe it until moments after her birth in the delivery room. My pregnancy was very similar to the other two except that I was more nauseous with her than I was with the boys. After going for my 20 week ultrasound appointment my doctor informed me that the radiologist detected that her brain ventricles were "mildly prominent" and that she had a choroid plexus cyst. He told me not to worry but to schedule a level three ultrasound and to make sure my appointment had the genetic counselor there as well. The hospital could not get me in for three weeks. I was in agony. I was so worried about my baby and could do nothing but wait and pray. Of course I googled and looked up everything I could on the internet about this condition which only scared me all the more. Everything from developmental delays to hydrocephalus popped up. I remember specifically one evening when I was crying to Joe about how upset and worried I was and he looked at me with a wisdom that I never before had seen in his eyes and said, 

"If God chooses to give us a special needs child, He will. He has a reason for everything and if it's His will, it's His will and it won't change the love I have for her already, as a matter of fact I'll probably love her even more!" 

He had this reassuring peace and strength that I did not have. I remembering blaming myself for wanting a girl so badly and thinking this is what I get for wishing for her. 

Before I got pregnant with Ayla, a friend from church came up to me and asked me when I was having my little girl. I was like What? How do you know I'll have a girl? She told me that she had envisioned my Joe, the boys and me with a little girl standing in front of a church and she had a feeling that I was going to have a girl one day. ...a couple of months later, Ayla was conceived... So after finding out about Ayla's condition, I ran up to her at church and in between sobs managed to explain what was wrong. She laid hands on me and prayed with me and as soon as she did, I felt this peace just come over me. That sick feeling in my stomach disappeared and I was at ease. At that moment, my faith grew more than it ever had before. I knew there was a God. The "God who sees me" saw me right then and there! So many people were praying for my baby. They were praying for God's healing and for His will at the same time. 

So the weeks passed and I went to my appointment. The genetic counselor wanted to be in the room and the technician scanned me and looked me straight in the face and said , 

"Her brain ventricles are completely normal and there is no cyst." 

I started bawling my eyes out! I was so relieved! The doctor came in and scanned me and said it was probably an error. He said that they probably measured the wrong area of the brain. I thought, maybe...or maybe, just maybe...God performed a miracle and healed my baby. Why? I don't know why. All I know is that my God, "El Elyon": the Name, is the God who sees me. He hears my cries and calms my fears. He is Jehovah, God and through His precious son chose to give me life and I will forever praise his most holy name! 

Lord, today as I celebrate the birth of my sweet Ayla, I thank you for hearing my cries and calming my fears. Thank you for my precious girl. May her life continue to be a testimony of your grace to an unbelieving world.

2nd Birthday

Pre-school

Kindergarten

Kissing 5 goodbye!

Today I am thanking God for giving us these last six years with our little miracle.  We have been blessed with dollies and drama!! How grateful I am today for our sweet Ayla who has brought us so much joy!!

Another One Bites the Dust

I grew up watching the "Bad Boys" (a.k.a. the "Detroit Pistons" for any of you who were under a rock in the 80's or not in the Detroit area or were toddling around or not even born yet you young-ins!)  Isiah Thomas was my favorite because first of all he was a point guard and second of all he was short...(6 feet 1 inch did indeed look short next to the rest of the bad boys)  We watched them win back to back championships, it was awesome!

My dad loved the game and my older sister was the most aggressive basketball player I have ever seen to this very day.  Thinking back on the way she would hold the ball and growl as she flung her elbows from side to side still sends chills of fear down my spine.  I never dared try to take the ball from her, she was and still is pretty darn tough!

So I grew up playing basketball through the 8th grade.  I even went to McCracken Basketball Camp the summer before Junior High and suffered through a running cramp the entire week, if you didn't know that was possible...it is...trust me!!  I didn't continue in high school because I became a cheerleader...much to my big sister's dismay (we were polar opposites and still are but opposites attract, right?  I think they do as long as you don't live under the same roof because we have a great relationship now but definitely had our fair share of WWE, WWF at the time, smackdowns and they were scary, let me tell you...I think Natalie would agree because I did have some pretty sharp nails...)

Needless to say I wasn't as strong or aggressive as my big sis, but I wasn't a china doll either.  I could hang pretty tough, even if it wasn't with NKOTB (never liked them, sorry girls, remember I had an older sister who probably would have ended my life if I did, we liked U2!  But I have to admit I couldn't hide my love for Debbie Gibson and she still rips on me about that!)

My boys are really into basketball right now regardless of the fact that their dad is Mr. Hockey.  For any of you Trentonites, don't worry they still play hockey but are really enjoying the court too!   I also would like to add that our Trenton Trojan boys varsity basketball team has won districts and their first game of regionals...the farthest they have gone since 1944...my mother-in-law's brother is the coach and it is all very exciting, so I guess the boys have inherited some basketball-loving genes from "daddy hockey's" side as well!  Unfortunately the gene wasn't passed onto Joe and I will never forget the first time I played him in "Pig" when we just started dating and he literally turned red and got angry when I beat him.  The boys did however take on the "Very Competitive" trait for sure!

So back to my original point...As some of you may know, I had a really bad scare last year.  It was the day after Easter and the boys and I were shooting hoops in the driveway.  They had the net lowered and Micah dared me to dunk.   And in my sparkly flats I ran up and dunked but closed my eyes and held onto the rim because I was afraid the ball was going to hit me in the head.  Next thing I know I am on the ground under the whole backboard, rim and net.  Blood was pouring from my head and the boys were terrified.  Later Jonah told me I screamed, "Help, Help me Jesus in heaven!"  a few times.  And THANKFULLY (bold caps don't express my gratitude) he did help me!  Miraculously, I was not seriously injured.  I did take my first ride in an ambulance and experience my first concussion and looked like a creature from Avatar for a week or so...but overall I recovered amazingly well.  And I do admit, laying in bed for a week being pampered and loved on by my kids who are still traumatized to this day that their mama almost died in front of them was pretty wonderful (I know, I'm bad...when the kids are talking back or complaining I do pull out the "remember-when-I-almost-died-in-front-of-you?" card)

And a couple of people have brought up the big fall to me recently.   And no they didn't call me "Floor Jordan" or "Vanilla Thunder" while bringing it up even though I have been referred to as both, hahaha very funny!  And on Sunday at Micah's 3 on 3 tournament I was simply walking down literally 6 bleacher steps.  Ayla and I were heading to the vending machine and I BIT THE DUST and accidentally tried to take down an 80-something year old man on my way down to the gym floor.  I was down and down hard.  The pain in my foot and wrist were over ridden by my embarrassment.  One mom chuckled and said that was soooo something she would do and the rest of the crowd stared wide eyed and I just know they were all thinking "I am so glad that was her and not me..."  I kept apologizing to the old man, I really do think I may have hurt him, he moved to the middle of the row for the next game, he wasn't going to let anyone else grab his poor shoulder on the aisle way again!  I got up and Ayla was so concerned!  Now I have fallen hard and flat on my back in front of all three of my kids at the basketball court...We got out in the hall and I didn't want to go back into the gym.  I held Ayla on my lap and held back my tears as she asked me over and over if I was ok.  I don't know if I was more excited that she cared or that she wasn't embarrassed of me.  I did make my way back into the gym and avoided ALL eye contact with the crowd!

Someone told me that maybe I should stay away from the basketball court.  That we don't go too well together.  That may be true.  Sometimes I feel like that with God.  I believe a certain way, deep in my heart I have this desire to be one with Him  And then I do something foolish, sometimes I don't even see it coming and my feet just fall out from underneath me and I wind up embarrassed by the things I have said or done, my example failed again. I don't want to look the people around me in the face.   Sometimes, I am trying too hard to do something on my own that I am not cut out to do and the whole thing falls on top of me and I have no where to look but up...And maybe I should just stay away from church to save myself the humility of  biting the dust in front of the congregation.  But then I am reminded that if I never failed, if I never wound up down on the ground, I would have no need for a Savior.  I am less but He is more, and His love for me will always be enough!!

And I don't think that I am going to be able to stay away from basketball, we have too long of a history together (even if I do have a scraped up foot from the latest fall!)


     

         

Facing the Giants

The boys joined a basketball team.  They both love the sport but haven't really had the chance to participate in it since they are busy with travel hockey but they got this great opportunity to play on the same team.

The teams consist of 5th and 6th graders.  And the first game they played was pretty good.  We did lose, but only by one basket.  Not bad, I know.  The boys seemed unharmed and in good spirits.  Their steps were filled with strides, they had comeback from losing by quite a few, to just a shot.  Smiles were beaming and high fives were flying and in walks their next competitor, Team Detroit.

Towering young men file into the gym.  I have never seen so many ten to thirteen year olds that tall in all of my thirty four years but apparently they can be that size because I saw it in plain sight and so did our little basketball team.  Wide-eyed they stood and waited for the referee to toss the jump ball to begin the game.  And as the giant reaches easily, tipping the ball to his teammate, my husband looks at me and mutters,

"Oh boy, here we go..."

And so it began....and the next words out of his mouth were,

"It's like taking candy from a baby....what do you do with that?"

And the score board was filling up on one side, making it's way all the way to 60 something with our side still at 0.

Defeat was thick and hope was thin and just when we thought that our two sons were in the least bit athletically elite, we were so put in our place and humbled.....

And as I watched these boys literally facing the giants and never giving up, I was encouraged...

You see most days, I wake in the morning and feel beaten down and insufficient.  Giants are towering in the hectic schedules and cluttered closets.  They are lurking, waiting to knock me down and tell me what an incompetent mother I am...How I've failed as a wife, sister, daughter, friend...The scoreboard is definitely not in my favor as I tally up the mistakes.  Shortcomings and failures rack up and my good behavior points don't measure up far enough at all.

But I cannot allow all that is against me to keep me out of the game.  I may be facing some fierce opponents, giants... if you will...They may knock me down and bruise me hard.  They may take the ball from me just like taking candy from a baby, especially when I try to play all by myself.  Only when I pass the ball off, take the burden of my performance and hand it over to the only one in whom there is true victory...will I win.

Our boys, they played a tough game.  They never gave up and hung in there.  The final score was 78-13, with us finally making our first basket in the second half of the game.  Jonah is the one who made it and the other team cheered as loud as we did when it happened! And what a proud mama was I when all of the fans were all cheering for my sweet son! :)  Makes me wonder and imagine how proud our Heavenly Father must be of His one and only Son!

 O victory in Jesus

My Savior, forever

He sought me and bought me

With His redeeming blood

                                    Eugene Monroe Bartlett Sr.

(from Feb. 2011)

Two years ago almost to the date, I wrote this.  Today we are in a very similar spot with an unknown future.   I always find strength when I take the time to remember His faithfulness in my life...

Path Unknown

In winter we bundle up in our gear and journey down the path prepared for harsh wind, frigid air, hard ice.  Waterproof clothing and boots shell our bodies.  We are ready for the bitter cold.  Dressed for the journey down the snow-laden trail.  It is a Sunday, the Sabbath, the Lord's day.  The sun is shining deceivingly in the brilliant blue sky.   Within minutes, Ayla cries to be held.  Daddy sweeps her up in his arms and plants her on top of his broad shoulders.  We trek on and turn around after almost a mile or so.  Micah, exhausted from the hike, begs me to pick him up.  Knowing I would only make it a few feet lugging his lanky 60 pound body, I tell him no and try to get his mind off of the situation instead.  "Lets pretend like we are walking down our street back home."  To divert his attention, I go through each house lined on our block and have him help me remember which one is is next.  Soon enough we are back to where the trail began.   The whole family is tired but invigorated.  Micah is so proud of himself, he didn't think he would make it.

Cold circumstances are nipping our cheeks right now on our actual life-journey.  There is an unknown forecast awaiting us as we take each step.  How desperately I yearn for my Heavenly Father to grab me up and whisk me onto His shoulders.  My legs are throbbing and my feet are starting to feel wet.  Anxiety and fear flood over and try to drown out my sanity when I let my mind wander to the worst case scenario of the not so distant future.  Cut backs.  Lay offs.  They've been talking about it for weeks at his company.  We've known for a while, the state of our country's economy let alone our state's.  But now crunch time is upon us.  Will we hear tomorrow, the day after, next week?  Will he have a job?  I am reminded of a song I learned so long ago back when I was a carefree adolescent.

"When the water's too high
  when the water's too high
  I will carry you
  I will carry you"

In my mind I can hear my little sister's beautiful voice singing, her delicate fingers strumming the wooden guitar up in front of the church.

"When the night is too black
  when the night is too black
  I will carry you
  I will carry you"

That is His promise.  To carry me.   All I need is a teeny tiny bit of faith that He will be there right? (He replied, "Because you have so little faith. I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you." Matt.17:20)  Will my lack of faith be too heavy for Him to handle me for more than a few feet?  Will He have to divert my attention, get my mind off of the situation so I can continue on alone weakened from the testing journey?  Or when I am unable to press on because of my tired body, my worn out mind, will he reach down from Heaven and whisk me up in His everlasting arms?

I think back to that Sunday stroll with the family.  The untouched white clumps hanging off of the barren trees was a sight to behold.  The blazing sun streaming through tops of trees and animal tracks imprinted on millions of  uniquely designed minute flakes of snow...amazing.  A sight to see.  Beauty in the middle of not so comfortable circumstances.  Cold, frigid, red-cheeked weather yet so pretty at the same time.  Definitely was worth the journey for the beautiful memories.

Whether God is carrying me or holding my hand or clearing the path ahead for me to journey through, I feel Him.  I feel Him right down to the marrow of my bones directing and leading.  The outcome may not be what I have planned for our family, it could get uncomfortable on many levels.  I may have to bundle up for the journey He has in store for us.  I may even have to double up my socks because it could get slushy and muddy.  But along the way I will inhale unanticipated joys and beauties that can only come from above.

The Road Not Taken

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth;         5 Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same,         10 And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.         15 I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.         20

Robert Frost

Today on Jan. 24, 2013  I am making the choice to take the road less traveled by...and put my trust 

in a loving God whose plan is bigger than I can see...It won't be easy and I may take one step forward and 

two steps back...But with an ever faithful Father who is quick to extend a merciful hand, I know it is possible...

Slow Down and Breathe Deep

Tonight my sweet daughter, our only girl last in the line of two brothers, asked me to spin her around as fast as I could.  She threw her head back in laughter and as she lifted her gaze up to mine, she grabbed my cheeks in her hands and squished them lovingly and begged,

"Faster, faster mommy!"

Carefully while spinning I explained if I went any faster we both might end up on the floor.  And all the while I was trying to cherish every moment of the very end of 2012 with my precious girl tight-fast in my arms.  As we twirled I held hard and soaked up the beauty of the sacred dance between us...

And as she cried,  "faster,"

I thought, "no, sweet baby girl, slower..."

How rushed we live most days...

I yearn to "Slow Down"

I have every good intention of doing it also.  But unfortunately when push comes to shove I ignore the latter and race through instead...

I want to soak it in, cherish, live in gratitude daily and actually take the time to give thanks for the moment...

This 2013 I want to slow down and breathe deep...

Goodbye 2012~

Forgotten

I pull into pick him up from school exactly eight minutes late and preoccupied on an important phone call...

The conversation is deep but out of the corner of my eye I see him flagging me down and running to the car as I pull through the turn around.  And he jumps in the car upset, more than upset, his eyes are red and brimmed with tears.  He lets out a sob and I have to leave the car and flash my pointer finger at him as I shut his cries out so I can finish the important conversation which happens to be with a Sargent police officer but that is beside the point.

I quickly hang up and hurry back in the van.  Fight? Bullying?  What in the world happened?  I ask him what's wrong and he gets it out...

"I thought you forgot me...I was so scared...I didn't know what to do...I forgot my cell phone, so I couldn't call you!"

I embrace my first born who just turned 12 and acts so grown up so much of the time.  I realize that he is still just a boy.  As my gut turns over I stroke his head and tell him what to do if it ever happens again...We make a plan and I lay it out before him.  And I don't think he will forget his cell phone, next time...He swallows back the tears and I tell a bad joke but he smiles anyways as he wipes away the pain.

And my sweet Jonah boy and I, our outward resemblance isn't all we have in common.

I have felt forgotten.  Left waiting after feverishly praying and petitioning until my eyes are raw and my knees are bruised.

Wondering if He would show up in the midst of my trouble and feeling abandoned when I didn't think He came on time...

But unlike this mama, our Father in heaven is unblemished and perfect.  His plans are pure and holy.

Sometimes the most important lessons are learned when the storm is raging the hardest.

Because in our weakness, in our brokenness, His strength is made perfect.    

He will never be preoccupied with an important phone call because He is omnipresent and omniscient.  .

He will always show up in His timing, which is always the right time.

He will write out a plan for our lives, for my life and it will be perfectly orchestrated for Him but may sound out of tune sometimes to me....

The question is will I stand on the road in the cold rain full of fear and trembling?....Or will I jump in the vehicle and buckle up for a ride that may get a bit bumpy but will be filled with purpose and life.


.

Hushed into Prayer

Crackling wood pops out last sparks of the fire and the house sleeps sound as I peck out letters behind a bright screen...

My voice has been quieted these last few weeks.  A silence has hushed my fingertips and turned tough times and hard burdens into prayers instead of posts...

How much of the time do I run to the phone or the keyboard, asking for intervention instead of falling to my knees?

Instead, tonight...these last few weeks...I lay down the burden at the wounded feet of the only One who can fully heal the body and the soul...

and as I do, I can hear the faintest but surest whisper of peace spoken into my whole being...
The weight is lifted and my body is trembling but sure...

November air drifts down the chimney blowing out the remainders of any bit of heat...

There is a slight chill in the air...

And the passion and warmth of my prayers and petitions are left at the throne and have been replaced by a cool, sweet peace...

Blown down to my core I sense the spirit of God residing and overriding fear, anxiety, worry...

Quietly and briskly calming this flesh into tranquil serenity...