tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91645294883352308012024-03-19T04:18:20.992-05:00Portraits of Grace. Stories of Us.Capturing small moments. Celebrating life.Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04153298838071579556noreply@blogger.comBlogger119125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9164529488335230801.post-37621814350437616472011-04-27T16:34:00.010-05:002011-04-27T21:55:55.178-05:00delayed gratificationI posted this online this morning:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjooCFJBIu36VZkfWKP9TVRdTjBuyKhMJAb8EtlRwOa50cVwQN2F3shuaF0lWEAIdL5nFsHCAZ8FZD-rXaL9sQN9m3Em-jl2_mhJPKl1gawXDoJFVEVdFm6EhOjM9DfDb8QQkt3X2Xsmu2R/s1600/bare+tree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320px" i8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjooCFJBIu36VZkfWKP9TVRdTjBuyKhMJAb8EtlRwOa50cVwQN2F3shuaF0lWEAIdL5nFsHCAZ8FZD-rXaL9sQN9m3Em-jl2_mhJPKl1gawXDoJFVEVdFm6EhOjM9DfDb8QQkt3X2Xsmu2R/s320/bare+tree.jpg" width="320px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"It's almost May. So many things are wrong with this picture."</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><br />
My sweet sister-in-law responded, saying “Spring is definitely an exercise in delayed gratification for you up north, isn’t it?”<br />
<br />
Boy was she right on. Spring in the Chicagoland is not for the faint of heart.<br />
<br />
She got me thinking about delayed gratification and how absolutely terrible I can be at it. I’m waiting on a lot of things right now, and Spring is the least of them. You're probably waiting too. Waiting for things like the right words, answers to lingering questions, fulfillment of dreams, truth to be revealed beyond falsehoods, justice, healing… the list goes on. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
We’re all waiting. But this morning, I was reminded that even when our questions give way to nothing but the bare branches of delay, <b><span style="font-size: large;">there is </span><span style="font-size: large;">hope</span></b>. There is peace to be found while we wait in the drenching, saturating rain... The rain that leaks into the depths of our being and somehow makes all things new... The rain that will eventually dissipate under the glow of the warm and shining sun.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmZbhwBaFHe3SeyImdThHK7Y4wlVDxkQDgiusE3HoUu34qgy-Ad598xgmyRT4t8RNOdwuvZ9c5IP8TcGh9D4fhmXcXUG_9jMqdzldZL71afU92Uax3wfrWPqdnam3a2-KUcjX8H0aGAZUL/s1600/sunburst+through+trees+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmZbhwBaFHe3SeyImdThHK7Y4wlVDxkQDgiusE3HoUu34qgy-Ad598xgmyRT4t8RNOdwuvZ9c5IP8TcGh9D4fhmXcXUG_9jMqdzldZL71afU92Uax3wfrWPqdnam3a2-KUcjX8H0aGAZUL/s400/sunburst+through+trees+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><i>"And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing." <br />
<span style="font-size: small;">James 1:4 ESV</span> </i></span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><i>. . .</i></span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><i><br />
</i></span></b></div><b><span style="color: #660000; font-size: large;"></span></b><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #660000; font-size: large;"><i>"Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up." <br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Galatians 6:9 NIV</span> </i></span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #660000; font-size: large;"><i>. . .</i></span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: large;"><i><br />
<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">"Be still in the presence of the Lord, and wait patiently for Him <span style="color: #274e13;">to act..." </span><span style="color: #274e13;"><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Psalm 37:7 NLV</span></span></span></i> </span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: large;">. . .</span></b></div>Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04153298838071579556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9164529488335230801.post-226582375791648052011-03-30T15:52:00.007-05:002011-03-30T22:03:32.813-05:00thoughts from the student driverThe other day I was driving behind one of those vehicles with the big yellow ‘pyramid’ on top that says “Student Driver.” I feel really sorry for the people in that car. I’m pretty certain they could be suffering from whiplash today. The student looked to be a teenage male, obviously embarrassed by the huge pyramid on the car that outed him as a student, though seemingly getting a kick out of abruptly slamming the car to a stop at each red light. <br />
<br />
As the paranoid driver behind them, and eventually next to, and in front of them, I watched with each screeching halt as the student nervously giggled and sneaked a peek in the rear-view mirror, discretely glancing to be sure his chuckling buddies in the backseat thought he was cool, <i>and not inept. </i><br />
<br />
I thought quite a bit about this student driver over the weekend. Something about him stuck with me. Something about him made me sad. <br />
<br />
Maybe it’s just teenage antics, but it was sad to me that this boy was seeking a good time and peer approval by his obviously intentional and dangerous actions. <br />
<br />
But IS it just teenage antics?<br />
<br />
Probably not. Unless we’re all teenagers. Haven’t we ALL been guilty of some measure of this?<br />
<br />
Have you ever focused more on what will grab the attention of others, than on living the life you were meant to live? Trying to get approval, acceptance- <i>or maybe even love</i>- from places you weren’t meant to find it? We can so easily lose track of <b>who we were created to be</b>, and instead wander aimlessly in a desperate attempt to be what our emotions or someone else tells us we should be… sometimes, even if it means stripping ourselves of our very moral backing. Excuses are made, judgment is thrown to the wayside, and we <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=matthew%207:6&version=NKJV">cast our pearls before swine</a>, all for a chance to strip ourselves of a label we despise, and “belong” in the eyes of another.<br />
<br />
But there is only one place you need to belong. And <b><i>you already do</i></b>.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7pqXpbmdj6h7tC0gt9v8889VE65YKfiw9NnZKwsLzA5Y33_QpQml9acDZz2VysgZweBM2xFCH-PaQ0zi0YN3jULlxH8hMlRpG7SayM24dAbx0S1-J7wVjJOFErqrU6LmGGlEGk8qZxG1k/s1600/735+BW_Psalm+139.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7pqXpbmdj6h7tC0gt9v8889VE65YKfiw9NnZKwsLzA5Y33_QpQml9acDZz2VysgZweBM2xFCH-PaQ0zi0YN3jULlxH8hMlRpG7SayM24dAbx0S1-J7wVjJOFErqrU6LmGGlEGk8qZxG1k/s320/735+BW_Psalm+139.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">You were <i>thought through</i>, <i>perfectly created</i>, fiber by precious fiber, for something <i>special and unique</i>. God has showered you with purpose, and <b>the person you were created to be is just enough</b>. There is no need to keep looking in the rear-view mirror for the approval of someone else. Embrace and live, instead, the days that were ordained for you from the depths of time.</div>Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04153298838071579556noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9164529488335230801.post-12122351604398314062011-03-08T05:30:00.062-06:002011-03-08T08:38:36.145-06:00the journey… 3 years in<div>Humidity hung in the air like a wet towel, heavy and drenched and draped over the clothesline of a sparkling jewel-blue August sky. It was the kind of day that makes your skin long for cool water and a swift breeze. An entire afternoon of blazing sunshine belonged to just me and my sweetheart, and we were on a quest to "get away."<br /><br />We decided to take a walk and do a little exploring in unfamiliar territory. The sign read "state park" in the dead of summer, but the parking area and adjoining paths were bare as bones.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyml9s1J0tgsfrUTYtV8DGphxnC9GbMNWfRYq6inaprD6eZ6Np957n1HmNRWJg9O76l8WT-xupSW4VPw4TKARsyT2D98WDzqLHo3Gdq4Gq1-ORQXvo3IFjtJuL-1_W5FDkJfMzQjyXhRLo/s1600/3_solid+path.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580319968766033906" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 300px; height: 400px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyml9s1J0tgsfrUTYtV8DGphxnC9GbMNWfRYq6inaprD6eZ6Np957n1HmNRWJg9O76l8WT-xupSW4VPw4TKARsyT2D98WDzqLHo3Gdq4Gq1-ORQXvo3IFjtJuL-1_W5FDkJfMzQjyXhRLo/s400/3_solid+path.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />As we walked, the solid, cool path beneath our feet became lopsided sand, while our sweet conversation and casual gazing at the blanket of shading trees overhead gave way to silent and determined focus. Not only had our firm trail become shifting sand, it had become steep, difficult to traverse, and fully exposed to the heat of the noonday sun.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnupFTuJZN_-upb7aDkFntqakXSzgzF6T4CH0zP_6vyn5VhBuk1acs_dNFuuKTngl6GDU-ayO1XM31QHX_4G70hvb9Mw6xJcNf0Oo24iAn4NEoa7qwMEFpOT-oy7dySmtqlz-d4MpNKlPY/s1600/3_sand+1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580320217497830610" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 300px; height: 400px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnupFTuJZN_-upb7aDkFntqakXSzgzF6T4CH0zP_6vyn5VhBuk1acs_dNFuuKTngl6GDU-ayO1XM31QHX_4G70hvb9Mw6xJcNf0Oo24iAn4NEoa7qwMEFpOT-oy7dySmtqlz-d4MpNKlPY/s400/3_sand+1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinYMYwBpbAyUVkj-chQELU16dCYnpw3vaC6ZgZisfSWqQPtQOTwzjvp8xVbg4gzzN76DfRUZmbROKYSlqLF3weBIY1Z-DL7U5NhCnMIFrmCfH-FQwDEEyZlWIg_40GIaM6bhVhsFIDLqYy/s1600/3_sand+2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580320458834020018" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 300px; height: 400px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinYMYwBpbAyUVkj-chQELU16dCYnpw3vaC6ZgZisfSWqQPtQOTwzjvp8xVbg4gzzN76DfRUZmbROKYSlqLF3weBIY1Z-DL7U5NhCnMIFrmCfH-FQwDEEyZlWIg_40GIaM6bhVhsFIDLqYy/s400/3_sand+2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoqbSSg6J_bYHrEFgpQ4WNK1PahaSYuiy7UY0_NpxoK7dd9GCqcbZFsj8_rq4pnQKjuKdGnWHvlx93kQMdxZVyL8yUbFb0jUNbxRn00rexkxD0CHiv5W0TmLQribzJNaUPh0znmwnxdS98/s1600/3_sand+3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580320860503483394" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 400px; height: 300px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoqbSSg6J_bYHrEFgpQ4WNK1PahaSYuiy7UY0_NpxoK7dd9GCqcbZFsj8_rq4pnQKjuKdGnWHvlx93kQMdxZVyL8yUbFb0jUNbxRn00rexkxD0CHiv5W0TmLQribzJNaUPh0znmwnxdS98/s400/3_sand+3.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />For quite some time, we hiked. With the heat threatening to smother our desperate lungs and sand plastered to our moist skin, we hiked. And suddenly, as we came over a particularly treacherous hill, we caught an unforeseen glimpse of total and complete heaven.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-11R-JlRK9BqCtprgtuZZMrmcmv3QV4bIsNny8u_qZVI3TEndouuQUID4wbSjNNm72KEW9jvSBZV_Tr0Fb09bfhj-CrYF2f4Izhm03IHpPGP472oI0qeXnWLo1e6vbw621Y_Lk312rQ13/s1600/grandmere.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581179061628920322" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 350px; cursor: pointer; height: 233px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-11R-JlRK9BqCtprgtuZZMrmcmv3QV4bIsNny8u_qZVI3TEndouuQUID4wbSjNNm72KEW9jvSBZV_Tr0Fb09bfhj-CrYF2f4Izhm03IHpPGP472oI0qeXnWLo1e6vbw621Y_Lk312rQ13/s400/grandmere.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We had no idea of the beauty that our laborious path was leading us to. All at once we were re-energized and couldn’t move fast enough towards that water. And after a few more dune climbs...<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM5_NhTe5Afb7qKDRYyNMd5sfATh1mC6CNopBvP3zIaOZwQxuGezD_Xy4TIjYuQC3Ct883yaVfkVvdjnlkSjTJrkky2rBjT62Q41OYv9EttHXtzk7prPqXOYFNpZ0OcEibWZwT8IvvcwJE/s1600/3_sand+4.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580321306791392946" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 300px; height: 400px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM5_NhTe5Afb7qKDRYyNMd5sfATh1mC6CNopBvP3zIaOZwQxuGezD_Xy4TIjYuQC3Ct883yaVfkVvdjnlkSjTJrkky2rBjT62Q41OYv9EttHXtzk7prPqXOYFNpZ0OcEibWZwT8IvvcwJE/s400/3_sand+4.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />…we were there.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >It was<em> glorious.</em></span><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj86dFrgj6KMbGl69G5JxBKvd78kGqUZQGkELa6jJCNp3JZJ-JjtFQ2t6Z3Kg3QUWzAffYEsg1m0kPgGhJyel3wtp0BxTlbXO0Vpnt5hKeFNyfizBA1RNxtexMJ5M5ja8qMg4-hgi3RBFM/s1600/3_beach.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580321519793071602" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 400px; height: 300px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj86dFrgj6KMbGl69G5JxBKvd78kGqUZQGkELa6jJCNp3JZJ-JjtFQ2t6Z3Kg3QUWzAffYEsg1m0kPgGhJyel3wtp0BxTlbXO0Vpnt5hKeFNyfizBA1RNxtexMJ5M5ja8qMg4-hgi3RBFM/s400/3_beach.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /></a>I could have stayed there for eons. And the heat and unexpected sweat of the journey there made it all the more sweet.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">... ... ... ...<br /></div><br /><p align="left">Today, I celebrate three years of marriage to my best friend.<br /><br /></p><p></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoXNSQicQQpcv5ynoNpAiDD8cEn-Q0R6_ZhSNvd2_NuqZZvI7DDJNzkGxv2CcjY3q1bQm3a4vJILTZFmRrl9YueQTeLmY87mr6OHeWuejJsEP4FrcSD8pfQSeEaH2trDLnQxCAo3lZyh0n/s1600/3_wedding+party.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580321688702103154" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 400px; height: 319px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoXNSQicQQpcv5ynoNpAiDD8cEn-Q0R6_ZhSNvd2_NuqZZvI7DDJNzkGxv2CcjY3q1bQm3a4vJILTZFmRrl9YueQTeLmY87mr6OHeWuejJsEP4FrcSD8pfQSeEaH2trDLnQxCAo3lZyh0n/s400/3_wedding+party.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I can’t help but think about how our hiking adventure that day so closely resembles how it feels to journey through life with the most incredible man in the world. Many days, the path is less stable and remarkably steeper than we expected, but in God’s goodness, we come over each precipice to see His hand at work in our lives: our son; our calling; God’s always-timely provision. And for a moment, we are propelled forward, catching glimpses of the purpose before us, stealing us away into our dreams for the future.<br /><br />I love loving you, Jason.<br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">I could stay here for eons. And the heat and unexpected sweat of our journey makes it all the more sweet.<br /><br /></span></strong><br /><p></p></div>Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04153298838071579556noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9164529488335230801.post-58374686418221818322011-02-23T14:21:00.014-06:002011-03-02T11:15:27.929-06:00teething and prayerYou’d think I’d have the wailing figured out by now. It’s been, what? 8 months already? And he’s been teething for, like, 12 of them. So why is it that I <span style="color:#cc0000;"><strong>*freak out*</strong></span> every time Jackson is teething? Perhaps it’s because I can’t see what’s going on, and I’m just certain that the discomfort is more than teething and we need to rush him to the urgent care center in case he has some triple-top-secret ailment we aren’t able to see but just KNOW is there behind the flooding tears and wracking sleeplessness.<br /><br />And then… <em>*POP*</em><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">Tooth.</span><br /><br />…Inevitably followed by, "Oooooooooh. So THAAAAAT’s why you were shrieking your head off and wouldn’t eat or sleep or chill out for the last three days."<br /><br />Jackson got teeth <span style="font-size:130%;">#</span>s 5 and 6 this week, and the night before they appeared, you would have thought his brain was exploding. It was unbelievable, the crying. <span style="font-size:85%;">(And Jackson was pretty upset too. <em>Kidding</em>.)</span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-YSxcvzEddihsKTkZEURPvTdBlq4BtgbkLw_iTfdNVH3e68xaZ4T8_AqGJ2I0-1M0h7atksqQw8dwB_GYMIC0xFtW8B6h8C9K-hOeXJ_KYo-ByjEt8tMLcToQYxgFABPWE2E99UXawo8k/s1600/teething.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576985146127538322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-YSxcvzEddihsKTkZEURPvTdBlq4BtgbkLw_iTfdNVH3e68xaZ4T8_AqGJ2I0-1M0h7atksqQw8dwB_GYMIC0xFtW8B6h8C9K-hOeXJ_KYo-ByjEt8tMLcToQYxgFABPWE2E99UXawo8k/s400/teething.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />This first time mommy thing has me all jacked up. I HATE not knowing what’s going on. I hate not being able to solve a problem, and I hate not having an answer. I spend so much energy trying to figure out what the issue is and how to fix it, and lo and behold, <em>*pop*</em> goes a tooth, or the diaper was dirty, or the bottle was too cold, or nap time came early- whatever. Something simple. It’s <em>always</em> something simple.<br /><br />It’s really exposed my tendency to panic and find my own answers. I do that in my spiritual life, too, sometimes. Something rattles me, so I start problem solving, because I can’t see the outcome and I need peace. And then I pray. But in those moments, I’ve got it backwards. Doing what I can do, and THEN talking to God about it is all wrong. Don’t worry- logically, I know that. But there are times that I do it anyway. It’s that <em>"I have to find an answer"</em> thing.<br /><br />I like plans. I like answers and clear skies ahead of me. I have been known to read the spoilers to my favorite TV shows, or read the last page of a mysterious book first, <em><span style="font-size:78%;">(I know. I know!)</span></em> simply because I can’t stand the anxiety of uncertainty. So when uncertainty beyond my control swells into my world like an invisible tooth erupting & screaming under the surface, I panic. I determine every logical solution for every logical <span style="font-size:78%;">(and illogical)</span> scenario, and I start crafting a plan.<br /><br />I’m not very good at teething.<br /><br />I’m determined to give up on this "I have to find an answer" thing, and to focus more on finding God in the process- in the middle of the unknown, in the crying, and the discomfort. Heck, I might even stop reading TV spoilers and the end of books first. Logic is good. But prayer is <em>so</em> much better.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>So, am I the only one who freaks out with uncertainty?</em></span>Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04153298838071579556noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9164529488335230801.post-60046419186127984112011-02-09T21:48:00.005-06:002012-02-13T15:08:46.235-06:00BlockedI love the book of Hosea. Love it. It reminds me that I’m human, that God is God, and that because of those realities, He is just and merciful, and will never stop pursuing me. I’ve spent most of my life in church (second pew, piano side at that). I went to Sunday School, I went to Youth Group, and I even went to a Christian college. But really, <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">it’s nothing to brag about.</span><br />
<br />
I didn’t really learn who God was until I was blocked.<br />
<br />
I’m not talking “annoying person on Facebook” kind of blocked. But stuck behind a wall of thornbushes and completely unable to find my way blocked (like in Hosea 2:6).<br />
<br />
On the outside, all was well. I was 24 and I was going to get married and move across the country and go to graduate school and get my Ph.D. And then, <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://betsyandjason.blogspot.com/2006/09/power-of-one-choice.html">it happened</a></span><span style="font-style: italic;">.</span> I ran headfirst into a sharp, piercing thicket that would capture my lofty plans in one tangled swoop and penetrate my soul and threaten to leave me scarred for eternity.<br />
<br />
By the time I made it out of that thicket, my plans were gone. <i> And so was my desire for them</i>. Things had changed drastically, and for the first time in my life, I didn’t have a plan. I was waiting. I’m not the best at waiting… <a href="http://betsyandjason.blogspot.com/2009/07/late.html" style="font-style: italic;">(Remember how worked up I get when waiting messes up my plans?)</a><br />
<br />
This was kind of my wilderness, I suppose. I had been tied up in the thicket, and then led out into the wilderness to have a heart to heart with Jesus (Hosea 2:14). We had a few things to iron out, and the first was that He loves me, always. No matter what. The second was that He has a great plan for my life, and that plan is irrevocable (Romans 11:29). And then He told me to wait. <span style="font-size: 130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"> And it was in that waiting that I started to really understand who God was.</span></span> It was in the waiting that I came to see hope in my “valley of trouble” (Hosea 2:15), and where my relationship with God shifted, matured (v. 16).<br />
<br />
So if you’re blocked, tied up in a nasty thicket, consider where it was you were headed that God might be sparing you from. Go ahead and follow Him into the wilderness and have a heart to heart… and wait.Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04153298838071579556noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9164529488335230801.post-81498106157357475212010-10-15T06:00:00.002-05:002011-02-09T22:01:27.026-06:00Resurfacing...<div style="text-align: center;">It's been a while...<br /><br />We've had a few things going on lately...<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKy0lBE47iuE8Jee-ZmqpZQN-kVrlIvOEtGAsI3c6AeCwLMKrathRAJ3yuqgCmzpgssHrCfHm2C0xHsh51SbdWjzbv7HInPV7bVzhmpQwHAZZrvZ_W3TPF6LV0dV5H0ZLshsNYZXY7CPgd/s1600/IMG_0066.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKy0lBE47iuE8Jee-ZmqpZQN-kVrlIvOEtGAsI3c6AeCwLMKrathRAJ3yuqgCmzpgssHrCfHm2C0xHsh51SbdWjzbv7HInPV7bVzhmpQwHAZZrvZ_W3TPF6LV0dV5H0ZLshsNYZXY7CPgd/s320/IMG_0066.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528007283394980370" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><div style="text-align: center;">It's an awesome thing, watching your dreams come true...</div><br /></div></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiekBPA6cnErFU5pDXFedWeYo-ZqyRHWo7TqCipGPkx7G1YHUetwxLzaB7piCFj07MbEdFYwDXAFo1eIoamu3jPQzZzWgBq8bRuKoN7YemUhlybVa3hlgsWoQftCUL-TnqZ40U7RSh04t8-/s1600/Jack_Mom_bw_full_verse.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiekBPA6cnErFU5pDXFedWeYo-ZqyRHWo7TqCipGPkx7G1YHUetwxLzaB7piCFj07MbEdFYwDXAFo1eIoamu3jPQzZzWgBq8bRuKoN7YemUhlybVa3hlgsWoQftCUL-TnqZ40U7RSh04t8-/s320/Jack_Mom_bw_full_verse.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528008448196298418" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">I've found that I am on a journey that has changed me more than I ever could have imagined.<br /><br /></div></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9uyR2shS24M5xkzwjwGhYr5uKTN5a5_pK_E-lIUP-pdpI07AtXiogpW8DuXLNF2rX5IBwyNQBosnZsFDx3WgTurrXC_xc34PwuVW4eWZVugmlWf3tX2QQWOwtJVSq8rFMrrOnY8E6qLQ1/s1600/IMG_0385b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9uyR2shS24M5xkzwjwGhYr5uKTN5a5_pK_E-lIUP-pdpI07AtXiogpW8DuXLNF2rX5IBwyNQBosnZsFDx3WgTurrXC_xc34PwuVW4eWZVugmlWf3tX2QQWOwtJVSq8rFMrrOnY8E6qLQ1/s320/IMG_0385b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528008093705337378" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKb8aAqsQ7h7B4TIsFTpKkbSODVz8i47Djc4bVHswX68lIONOLelCH6XwjyDv8MwUvLk3zZBJmrC73gYXTVBnYiJB8OW4zp0bPyXJwogvuzDWgpgcv8anBENeetw3Aa4u4ZxEf1Orwc7R_/s1600/684+BW+5x7H.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKb8aAqsQ7h7B4TIsFTpKkbSODVz8i47Djc4bVHswX68lIONOLelCH6XwjyDv8MwUvLk3zZBJmrC73gYXTVBnYiJB8OW4zp0bPyXJwogvuzDWgpgcv8anBENeetw3Aa4u4ZxEf1Orwc7R_/s320/684+BW+5x7H.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528013778308975394" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">And the company's not bad either...<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQQTJWxt7n1UbCLNv71pxabYK-GjQFTFlzrwwjiv-0iSGcVULL2vuNnRqO32IJktszFNUqaAGc8vcST_FPmvOSBjSJa7RHIp8F9gO6EYMfSPYUhAnsqrJ2iBt196j-bKiCFnNYfPAZ3UeC/s1600/IMG_0767_bw2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQQTJWxt7n1UbCLNv71pxabYK-GjQFTFlzrwwjiv-0iSGcVULL2vuNnRqO32IJktszFNUqaAGc8vcST_FPmvOSBjSJa7RHIp8F9gO6EYMfSPYUhAnsqrJ2iBt196j-bKiCFnNYfPAZ3UeC/s320/IMG_0767_bw2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528008754144661106" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3wvNnRe2NRPyJ_xK1bKznGAq6TMl52Rn3mjAffo-G5DAm3Xmc1VUWiAmSlmRPthno9rdxBcdI8AGCPFlmQ9wvOiV0mppwYKilfznKBpt8ikVmY6MRtu_eDuWhuKLgIFLFwM2UNEdul1-g/s1600/IMG_0888b_2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3wvNnRe2NRPyJ_xK1bKznGAq6TMl52Rn3mjAffo-G5DAm3Xmc1VUWiAmSlmRPthno9rdxBcdI8AGCPFlmQ9wvOiV0mppwYKilfznKBpt8ikVmY6MRtu_eDuWhuKLgIFLFwM2UNEdul1-g/s320/IMG_0888b_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528009006712552898" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY1CM_V1kJpnKu8mJ57zGm1TLRgyhKGt35-VI6PaVkklHuWf9HnaT7SmlxFDU2zrfhIqEVgBxC2poNOXqfuTvupj9w38XFudEtvMYmu-YC4PPweX1-NayHE3e3JR9wVJMGB5EedsndBCq_/s1600/IMG_1031_bw.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY1CM_V1kJpnKu8mJ57zGm1TLRgyhKGt35-VI6PaVkklHuWf9HnaT7SmlxFDU2zrfhIqEVgBxC2poNOXqfuTvupj9w38XFudEtvMYmu-YC4PPweX1-NayHE3e3JR9wVJMGB5EedsndBCq_/s320/IMG_1031_bw.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528009391509828386" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">I can't believe it was just <span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">one year ago </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >today</span> that we discovered our little miracle was on his way. We are truly <a href="http://betsyandjason.blogspot.com/2009/11/thankful.html">thankful</a>.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6P1eX3FgBy8NdLJD01mGhTtfYtW1KAT1jJNLcQ1mvOkieFTG7dDavoOC5PnKeuZTNXNINE7GG54SZwQtpolDCFB7MsHRoSXqCMXtQ4MLNq3tS-oMaB6Jekalvmlp2qjWmUVmcRiHEaxJs/s1600/14761_538714295862_79101202_31644644_3010483_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 221px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6P1eX3FgBy8NdLJD01mGhTtfYtW1KAT1jJNLcQ1mvOkieFTG7dDavoOC5PnKeuZTNXNINE7GG54SZwQtpolDCFB7MsHRoSXqCMXtQ4MLNq3tS-oMaB6Jekalvmlp2qjWmUVmcRiHEaxJs/s320/14761_538714295862_79101202_31644644_3010483_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528015095485412690" border="0" /></a></div></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">A couple baby-weight pounds added, a few winks of sleep fewer, hearts enlarged and amazed, and we're gradually resurfacing & growing accustomed to life with our new treasure.<br /></div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWYUvxO96pkRXH_b5GlyDQLry2eyo010lSQO-hQzIXALb5R5YlJMhyphenhyphenVIV4p96ms1JzeaHaU52GlGCufsbKRNKHIL9c7mhaNUglURra6ORqhz7MCS2ZgUQ3Qsrjk9yFRgoLml4MLKso_9Nw/s1600/577+Flare.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWYUvxO96pkRXH_b5GlyDQLry2eyo010lSQO-hQzIXALb5R5YlJMhyphenhyphenVIV4p96ms1JzeaHaU52GlGCufsbKRNKHIL9c7mhaNUglURra6ORqhz7MCS2ZgUQ3Qsrjk9yFRgoLml4MLKso_9Nw/s320/577+Flare.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528016962011732658" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">More to come soon...<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglk_mtwqJv3D_V3qsS3E0xAqnAohrFH_PC2dfPqdyKStBKs9onkIoo2D3xlH87RDrfuNzfySgqZWC1Fi_9Av4HFQ7D4l4nnEWhOyKzRLF7N0JB7Kwfd2QaBl1ueOi0E9rhfozZLu9uC4sS/s1600/735+BW.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglk_mtwqJv3D_V3qsS3E0xAqnAohrFH_PC2dfPqdyKStBKs9onkIoo2D3xlH87RDrfuNzfySgqZWC1Fi_9Av4HFQ7D4l4nnEWhOyKzRLF7N0JB7Kwfd2QaBl1ueOi0E9rhfozZLu9uC4sS/s320/735+BW.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528017381643531106" border="0" /></a>Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04153298838071579556noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9164529488335230801.post-22638560799172605282010-04-02T06:52:00.000-05:002011-03-05T20:32:31.173-06:00new creation<div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 51);">Look what I saw yesterday... I wait for this all winter.</span><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOfrAr-iwdSLONicq8G-79JuLQBy_SNW6XdvOhs_BNP-qxo4WKwWb84jzSoXHlYYN7KfjzhYyUuTHKKBCuVg1f8_kaPLYNpNoUaLiEWPtUZ3DBCAjA6L0qQktf36vVcxAvJwrRU0EI8bt5/s1600/IMG_7956.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOfrAr-iwdSLONicq8G-79JuLQBy_SNW6XdvOhs_BNP-qxo4WKwWb84jzSoXHlYYN7KfjzhYyUuTHKKBCuVg1f8_kaPLYNpNoUaLiEWPtUZ3DBCAjA6L0qQktf36vVcxAvJwrRU0EI8bt5/s320/IMG_7956.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455511859573678882" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 51);"> <span style="font-weight: normal;">God is <span style="font-weight: bold;">always</span> faithful to bring new life. May we never forget, even in the harshest of life's "winters."</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come! 2 Corinthians 5:17</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 51); font-weight: normal;">Happy Easter, friends.</span></span><br /></span></div>Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04153298838071579556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9164529488335230801.post-45359613046194563312010-03-31T13:06:00.006-05:002011-03-05T20:32:31.174-06:00Lady's Lizard... (from the Archives)<p><em>Journeying through Holy Week, I was brought back to these thoughts I wrote many months ago.<br /></em><br /><br /><br />Today would probably have to qualify as one of the most beautiful days of the year. Taking full advantage of the clear skies, light breeze, and radiant sunshine, I was outside walking and playing fetch with Lady, my puppy. There is a large grassy area with a big hill right behind where I live, and it is one of Lady’s favorite spots to run and play. Several days ago, Lady found a dried up dead lizard in her "play yard," and proudly brought it to me clenched in her tiny jaws. Disgusted, I made her drop it and took her to another part of the hill to play. The next day as we were out walking, Lady found her lizard friend again, and smugly brought it once more to my feet. Still grossed out at this stiff, desiccated reptile, I once again let out an "Eeeewww!" and we promptly retreated to another part of the field, leaving behind her dead and shriveled friend.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu2WUElUvxpfqDWuj1MG_vLczrwqGTl23T82PQajZrrMOuv22_DmEJBGkQv3mlZ9ZhC2ulX2jcTgyoA7KCUsMHFPF9_auSG0qZzQ1CjnJ4lxiEIpaKwTp59MhO7O_OwVCVDbxs2k_hHSuV/s1600/Lady.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454861786033620754" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu2WUElUvxpfqDWuj1MG_vLczrwqGTl23T82PQajZrrMOuv22_DmEJBGkQv3mlZ9ZhC2ulX2jcTgyoA7KCUsMHFPF9_auSG0qZzQ1CjnJ4lxiEIpaKwTp59MhO7O_OwVCVDbxs2k_hHSuV/s200/Lady.jpg" border="0" /></a>Well, Lady is a persistent little girl. She is 5 pounds of pure energy and determination. So, of course, when we went out to play today (hundreds of yards from the last spotting of her reptile friend, mind you), Lady once again made her way to her lizard. Shocked that she found this one tiny little lizard in the midst of the huge field, all I could think was <em>"For the love of God, how do you keep finding this guy?!"</em><br /><br />As gross as that lizard is to me, I got to thinking that for Lady, it is just in her nature to hunt and sniff out things like that. That is what she will always do. It is her instinct to sniff out and track down things that are dead, that are dirty, and she will for the rest of her life bring those dead and dirty things to my feet in pride.<br /><br />Perhaps each of us could learn a lesson from Miss Lady. As Christians, isn’t it supposed to be a part of our nature to go seeking out the spiritually dead and wounded? It is far too often that we stumble upon people who desperately need the forgiveness and love of Christ, and instead of proudly taking them to the feet of God, we grimace and cry out a prideful "Eeeewww!" as we leave their desperate and withered souls in the dust.<br /><br />Even around such holidays as Easter, <em>THE</em> resurrection celebration, how quickly we forget that <span style="color:#336666;"><strong><em>God is in the business of bringing life into dead things.</em></strong></span> May we always take the dried up and dead, the wounded and missing, to His feet.</p>Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04153298838071579556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9164529488335230801.post-89090814489361273852010-03-18T10:49:00.017-05:002011-02-09T22:00:01.114-06:00He KnowsThe nursery for our little one has finally moved into the stage of being ready for assembly and decoration. The closet has been cleaned out, the office furniture relocated, the walls have been primed and painted a beautiful shade of barely there turquoise-blue, the light fixture changed, and the drop cloths removed. Before my very eyes, this room has become <strong>THE</strong> room. The nursery. The sanctuary where my precious little one will be sleeping and napping and playing and crying out for mama. Each time I stand in the doorway of that near empty nursery, it takes my breath away.<br /><br /><br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuKC3_X2vo50Z8yOaH4kcCiXEi9i_P2Xvq4eg9OHI5OwAXV9Et2H8bVKjKixz4E-9aQWYuUO9I6A8jdy6Cj159fsV8f2qiyjyWaRXa0O-MrZXgTYKXuuPnfwjFAJ41yvfbMNsInR1QO3mR/s1600-h/Nursery_bare.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450001740330242978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuKC3_X2vo50Z8yOaH4kcCiXEi9i_P2Xvq4eg9OHI5OwAXV9Et2H8bVKjKixz4E-9aQWYuUO9I6A8jdy6Cj159fsV8f2qiyjyWaRXa0O-MrZXgTYKXuuPnfwjFAJ41yvfbMNsInR1QO3mR/s400/Nursery_bare.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Sweet Jesus, how is it that tears of joy come with such freedom at the thought of this miracle who I don’t even know yet? How is it that there is such profound love swelling inside of my heart with each passing day as I anticipate his arrival? How will I ever be able to contain my love for him when I finally meet him face to face?<br /><br />And then it occurs to me: <em><strong><span style="color:#336666;">Lord, you already KNOW him.</span></strong></em> (Lucky you).<br /><br />If I love him so much, even before knowing his face, how much more must our Creator love and adore this tiny miracle growing inside me? He already knows him. He has already assigned his future and his purpose.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#336666;">"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." <strong>Jeremiah 29:11</strong></span></em><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFxLRx81TbMeFxjztH7yNXx-xzAfey01lezS-WlcdlxHZJPvphLbnoXUYD96I4KUNyx2eEa1rngTwnqztEDTEsxkeCkSVtBp1X0_3DIPOdLp6eZ3djyQAVkEPY_RY5ysj_Bzp9aRU7_6pY/s1600-h/26weeks_belly.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450003184792506162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 236px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 288px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFxLRx81TbMeFxjztH7yNXx-xzAfey01lezS-WlcdlxHZJPvphLbnoXUYD96I4KUNyx2eEa1rngTwnqztEDTEsxkeCkSVtBp1X0_3DIPOdLp6eZ3djyQAVkEPY_RY5ysj_Bzp9aRU7_6pY/s400/26weeks_belly.jpg" border="0" /></a> </p><p>For 14 more weeks, I will wait to meet my son. But Jesus already knows him well.</p><p><em><span style="color:#336666;"><strong>Psalm 139</strong><br />13 For you created my inmost being;<br />you knit me together in my mother's womb.<br /><br />14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;<br />your works are wonderful,<br />I know that full well.<br /><br />15 My frame was not hidden from you<br />when I was made in the secret place.<br />When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,<br /><br />16 your eyes saw my unformed body.<br />All the days ordained for me<br />were written in your book<br />before one of them came to be. </span></em></p>Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04153298838071579556noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9164529488335230801.post-44485379326078072542010-03-15T18:59:00.005-05:002011-02-09T22:00:01.115-06:00Unloading the Camel<h3 class="post-title entry-title"> </h3> <div class="post-body entry-content">I have a great appreciation for the story of the Rich Young Man (found in Matthew 19, Mark 10, and Luke 18). Many of us who are familiar with this story have often heard it equated to a love for money and sacrifice for the Kingdom of God—which I am not denying. But, as I read it recently for probably the 100th time, I gathered something else from the words of Jesus to this curious man.<br /><br />The man wanted to know what he must do to inherit an eternity with God. Apparently, he was a man who obeyed the Law and also possessed great wealth. This is important because riches in that day were thought to be an indicator of God’s favor. Wealth was said to be an index of a person’s spiritual state. Therefore, the man had probably until this time bore his wealth quite proudly as an assurance of his salvation.<br /><br />And then came the unexpected announcement of Christ: <em>Sell it. It’s worthless. It’s not what I’m looking for.</em><br /><br />In fact, Jesus went so far as to say that a camel could more easily pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter his Kingdom.<br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6328/2966/1600/511779/Eye%20of%20a%20Needle%20in%20the%20gate%20of%20a%20khan%20at%20Nazareth.gif"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6328/2966/200/78777/Eye%20of%20a%20Needle%20in%20the%20gate%20of%20a%20khan%20at%20Nazareth.png" alt="" border="0" /></a>There is much debate about this analogy, but I find it quite interesting that the “Eye of the Needle” was also a phrase used to describe a small entrance in large gates for passengers on foot. The large gates were opened only for pack-bearing animals (i.e. camels carrying a large load). For one of these animals to even have a hope of fitting through this small, single-person entrance, it would have to remove all of its packs.<br /><br />The Rich Young Man had loaded his life with his own idea of “spiritual indicators.” He was like a camel, bearing his hefty load with pride. Much like him, we often stack our backs high with good deeds, the “right” words, and dutiful devotion times—packing for our self-navigated trip into the Kingdom of Heaven. We compose man-made indications of our spiritual relationship to God, and we follow them like a script. We put on our suits and ties and our best Sunday dress, we set our timer and pray until it dings, memorize our bible verses, and promise to save one more soul. With our checklist, we dutifully pack our bags for eternity.<br /><br /><em>And then God says, “Unload the camel.”</em><br /><br />It’s not the way in. The loads we attempt to bear are often endured in vain, and to get through the eye of that needle, we have to let it all go.<br /><br />I am not discounting the relevance of spiritual discipline, nor the importance of intentional sacrifice for the Kingdom. But I have to wonder at times if we have mistaken these things as a means to an end. When we unpack our camels, what is left? What are we without the things we do? To be more clear, <span style="font-weight: bold;">what is in our hearts?</span> What is our heart’s attitude towards God? What is our heart's attitude towards the ones we love... and even those we don't?<br /><br /><em>Do we love from the deepest corners of our heart... or do we spend our time looking for more self-serving novelties to pack away in the luggage of our soul?</em><br /><br />God has really challenged me to unload my camel and examine my heart underneath. More than anything else, I want my heart to be pure before Him. And even if it means stripping my devotion to everything else, I want to be able to fit through that door.<br /><br /><em>If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing. (1 Corinthians 13:1-3)</em></div><br /><br /><br /><em>Reposted from my original blog: http://betsywhitsitt.blogspot.com</em>Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04153298838071579556noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9164529488335230801.post-75385671441825964802010-02-25T19:20:00.011-06:002011-02-09T22:00:01.115-06:00gerbil blanketYou may not be familiar with gerbil blankets, so let me introduce you. I once took up crocheting, and much to my surprise, I caught on rather quickly. Moved with passion to create a beautiful scarf for myself all those years ago as winter approached (and hopefully many more for my friends), I sat daily and worked the yarn in and out and up and over in a quest of warm, fluffy splendor. And then something terrible happened.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;">L . I . F . E .</span><br /><br />I was whisked away from my colorful kingdom of hooks and yarn and lured into the world of busy-ness that so consumes us all. This world battled against the kingdom of crocheting, and in as much, my “scarf” was left behind. Too long in length to be considered a “dish cloth,” but not long enough to claim the title of “scarf,” I deemed my creation a gerbil blanket. And if I had a gerbil, I am certain he would snuggle up under it with pride.<br /><br />I still have my gerbil blanket, and in the last year or so, I have thought occasionally about retrieving it from its pit of abandonment to continue toward its original purpose of being a proud and cozy scarf. Isn’t that, after all, what all little gerbil blankets want- to grow up to be a scarf?<br /><br />Well, ironically enough, I have suddenly been forced to find the time for such things as crocheting.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmfmdLR_Gy_1_l9Qf_jIpbHzazUwawfe3LLQNDWysFKfmegIwzofBXA4bNW4la_FZku4EuPn-FgpCwrq4jWxtW3HKP78DUxGd1ruC-a8NBBTmAMk9_aLOvAu-MPngMuQvSW-d7-_id9STG/s1600-h/Ultrasound_21weeksA.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmfmdLR_Gy_1_l9Qf_jIpbHzazUwawfe3LLQNDWysFKfmegIwzofBXA4bNW4la_FZku4EuPn-FgpCwrq4jWxtW3HKP78DUxGd1ruC-a8NBBTmAMk9_aLOvAu-MPngMuQvSW-d7-_id9STG/s400/Ultrasound_21weeksA.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442357216266162866" border="0" /></a>One small stint in the hospital with this darling little one, and I’m off my feet and chugging water like there’s no tomorrow. A few hours spent (re-)teaching myself, and I'm in yarn heaven. I must admit, however, that at this point, my crocheting hopes and dreams are leaning more towards a soft turquoise-blue baby blanket than a gerbil blanket-turned-scarf.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgGuyqXsPpSIAkQnKF-vFbxWnhTWoI4AR2ig-Ihs_WeDlCDZPnKSHX0c4gidPBUhC2Czc-waj3Rk3SH5Z4WYukCSqE_IekGmTuTzBKTcpZob2EqOiAJSEPqm86sTqLkASP2xysFxr89m4G/s1600-h/IMG_7741.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgGuyqXsPpSIAkQnKF-vFbxWnhTWoI4AR2ig-Ihs_WeDlCDZPnKSHX0c4gidPBUhC2Czc-waj3Rk3SH5Z4WYukCSqE_IekGmTuTzBKTcpZob2EqOiAJSEPqm86sTqLkASP2xysFxr89m4G/s400/IMG_7741.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442357486097572290" border="0" /></a><br />Maybe someday little gerbil blanket… Someday your day <span style="font-style: italic;">will</span> come, and I will rescue you from your lonely, tucked away demise.<br /><br />Until then, my little gerbil blanket reminds me that it’s never too late to grow in purpose, to do the right thing, to make changes that need to be made. That’s the joy of life in Christ. Grace is on our lives to enable us to be who we were created to be, whether we stopped in the middle and took another route, or we got all tangled up in the ever-weaving yarn of our lives. <span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"> It’s never too late to seek after your God-ordained purpose.</span> It’s never too late to rekindle a friendship that has been left behind. It’s never too late to speak the words “I’m sorry.” And it’s never too late to try again.Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04153298838071579556noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9164529488335230801.post-58419826785846397372010-02-11T16:00:00.010-06:002011-02-09T22:01:59.782-06:00enoughA few short months ago, I encountered courage like I had never seen before. And it was not my own. This courage was housed in the battered heart of young girl who has known pain that I could never dream of. As she unfolded story after story to me of sorrow, grief, abuse, neglect, and despair, I couldn’t help but wonder for her, <em>"Why this cross, Lord?"</em> From the pit of her hardened soul she was crying out to me the grievances stricken upon her young and fragile life, repeating over and over that she could never be enough.<br /><br />Those words pierced my heart like an arrow.<br /><br />It was something we shared. You might share it with us too. <em>Not good enough.</em><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyRXi9OLFOnw1KctEcouxEJS13viuITp-0NBCduIHmE6S5d3FNERHIl64YPIGMyxbeNPoaCLV1-hQrKcWAKQzjMqkV_8cCwlrytCLiJvaEu3dLFYDp6Sq86WIxhZcG4xlU9iN_CQpMP8RO/s1600-h/bjw_c_opt.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 162px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyRXi9OLFOnw1KctEcouxEJS13viuITp-0NBCduIHmE6S5d3FNERHIl64YPIGMyxbeNPoaCLV1-hQrKcWAKQzjMqkV_8cCwlrytCLiJvaEu3dLFYDp6Sq86WIxhZcG4xlU9iN_CQpMP8RO/s200/bjw_c_opt.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450382523794546338" /></a>The journey to be good enough in my own mind was a long one for me, and it reached its peak when I was about 18 years old. I had given up life as I knew it to study ballet, and I struggled to fight toe to toe with other long-legged, stick thin figures to win the prize of a starring role under glistening lights before sold out crowds. I was darkly compelled by the searing blisters on my feet and the gurlgling empty belly of a body that longed to be fed, but was neglected in favor of losing a pound and gaining accolades. But no matter how much of a beating my body and soul took from its master, there was always the continuous nagging of not being good enough. It was relentless. And it was about SO much more than my body or snug fitting pointe shoes and tutus.<br /><br />For some time, even years after I evaded the world of ballet, the quest to be good enough followed me around like a dark shadow, etching away at my heart and chiseling away any remaining fragments of the Truth that I had left behind so many years ago…<br /><br />The young girl I met a few months ago left Truth behind too. The demands of her grief and the pain of her world rendered the Truth meaningless in her heart. It was a stark reality that shook me to the core of my being.<br /><br /><em><strong><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,102,102)">"For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago." Ephesians 2:10</span></strong></em><br /><br />Oh, that this young, courageous girl would find hope in the Truth again.<br /><br />May it be a treasure we all clutch close to our hearts and protect for eternity.Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04153298838071579556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9164529488335230801.post-86960879281118103512010-01-25T19:19:00.010-06:002011-02-09T22:01:59.783-06:00stir<div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center">Some of my favorite things require a good stir every now and then:<br /></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="color:#339999;"><span style="COLOR: rgb(102,0,0)"><strong>my coffee</strong></span><br /></span></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi__UYn5TWGiqY1VRUpLTyXtRVnRe-vK4LBwnodGa0eLplPFEBXvj2Sfr2-2Wck3Q-rYS5ArMqvHu8OuvGkve_UDxt_O07axbWQLXLyjXou_mhkw1r5W4DLLLysWBK6X8NlKLXhF2FFz7Ig/s1600-h/coffee.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430855226974873986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi__UYn5TWGiqY1VRUpLTyXtRVnRe-vK4LBwnodGa0eLplPFEBXvj2Sfr2-2Wck3Q-rYS5ArMqvHu8OuvGkve_UDxt_O07axbWQLXLyjXou_mhkw1r5W4DLLLysWBK6X8NlKLXhF2FFz7Ig/s400/coffee.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><strong><span style="COLOR: rgb(102,0,0);" >a good homemade soup</span><br /></strong></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2iL1SquP3DcMU21qt1Fn3u44XrFMsCSmaUvN9cZCaBHZfTSkmm2C0TZl2KT0eN3jOlwigxlrQeUUNmRFARYRfPcXC__ZG5RBMnd9AwrJFWc00Gghvqn3M6kmoXwi6fUHd9U0yjLNC5Cob/s1600-h/potofsoup.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430855385985076450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 261px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2iL1SquP3DcMU21qt1Fn3u44XrFMsCSmaUvN9cZCaBHZfTSkmm2C0TZl2KT0eN3jOlwigxlrQeUUNmRFARYRfPcXC__ZG5RBMnd9AwrJFWc00Gghvqn3M6kmoXwi6fUHd9U0yjLNC5Cob/s400/potofsoup.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="color:#339999;"><span style="COLOR: rgb(102,0,0)"><strong>a fresh can of paint</strong></span><br /></span></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjVe4w8KzAvSv-WIJG8lefQPS5X6kHyl3Bv0LTiufcxrNWJ3EbdJ_d2HDzWKeQ5Naaz8sLwBTMbrMeJJyDluz15iAqRu5sDQizLdByQXkGPGxXMONFaPUiI8Q11dcWAxvt_jDS72j2g1j3/s1600-h/orange-paint-dip_300.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430855537864936018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 357px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjVe4w8KzAvSv-WIJG8lefQPS5X6kHyl3Bv0LTiufcxrNWJ3EbdJ_d2HDzWKeQ5Naaz8sLwBTMbrMeJJyDluz15iAqRu5sDQizLdByQXkGPGxXMONFaPUiI8Q11dcWAxvt_jDS72j2g1j3/s400/orange-paint-dip_300.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center">What about our spirit? I don't know about you, but I certainly require a stirring of my faith from time to time. And what better way to do so than in relationship?<br /></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><strong><span style="color:#339999;"><span style="COLOR: rgb(102,0,0)">meet Melissa</span><br /></span></strong></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7s9DDgP_JBO-girPPc9dQ7s6o_O7LpaYbTPo-KMgJDOkc5xJFfjbMbj4WbR7J4vfXdeX6xchLiPAlQM4HAGsa7FGpuM7ZlX-YP9_JGwhFuSdQHQBjgBBMkuJJ6YTc85Py7nbiqZnpOS0e/s1600-h/26.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430856651136273714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7s9DDgP_JBO-girPPc9dQ7s6o_O7LpaYbTPo-KMgJDOkc5xJFfjbMbj4WbR7J4vfXdeX6xchLiPAlQM4HAGsa7FGpuM7ZlX-YP9_JGwhFuSdQHQBjgBBMkuJJ6YTc85Py7nbiqZnpOS0e/s400/26.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center">More often than not, the stirring of our faith comes from doing life with one another... my friendship with Melissa is no different. I am continuously challenged by her faith and by her ability to be vulnerable with God, even in the most bleak of circumstances.<br /><br />So when you're challenged to stay put instead of moving forward with God, find a stir. You'll probably find it in relationship, if they're Godly.<br /><br />Life isn't meant to be done alone. And you never know, your journey may be clearing the path for someone else.<br /></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"></div>Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04153298838071579556noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9164529488335230801.post-7659342212969411232010-01-23T06:32:00.019-06:002011-03-16T16:08:38.464-05:00No wordsOlive Hope Polinder went home to be with Jesus yesterday evening. Our hearts are filled with such overwhelming sadness as we think about the incredible loss Rusty and Lynette must feel after these long months of strife, heartache, miracles, and prayer. It seems there are not enough words in the universe to describe the impact this little life has had on our personal faith in recent months. I've been grasping for them for hours now, only to find an ocean of tears.<br /><br />Olive was born at the end of September 2009 to her missionary parents in Chaing Rai, Thailand, at only 28 weeks, and suffered a severe intracranial brain hemorrhage. When we heard of the need for prayer for her life, something captured both Jason and I and latched onto our hearts... Perhaps it was the leading of the Holy Spirit, perhaps it was our sensitivity to these friends and new parents in need as we were desperate to become parents ourselves... probably both. And so we committed ourselves to fasting and prayer for tiny Olive Hope Polinder, oceans away but tied to our hearts in a way that only the love of God can explain.<br /><br />About a year ago, I was diagnosed with a tumor in my brain that (among other things) the doctors said could keep us from having children. We were devastated. We stated our faith, sought the prayers of friends and family and our church, and kept moving on with life, but in all honesty, it was a battle we sincerely struggled with very privately. Especially me. There were many days that my faith grew weak and my hope diminished, and I angrily stormed the gates of heaven with demands to understand the unfair anguish that had been cast upon us.<br /><br />And then Fall blew into our lives with its swift, cool winds, and one day we heard the desperate cry for prayer from the Polinder family. We watched our Savior perform miracle after miracle in Olive's body and our faith was strengthened... We were reminded that God can do the impossible. We were reminded of His goodness in all things, even when circumstances cast their dark and eerie shadows. Little did we know that <span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">in the very days</span></span> that we first committed ourselves to prayer and fasting for little Olive Hope, a new life was being conceived within us.<br /><br />We consider Olive to be such an integral part of our journey over these recent months. Today the words are hard to find and the tears come freely as we celebrate what her life meant to so many. When I meet her in heaven, I can't wait to find out if she knows that she restored faith in my soul and hope for my heart. I can't wait to see her dancing in the streets of heaven next to the life that I am carrying within me.<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(51,102,102)">Olive's life was the perfect example of the very purpose of human creation: <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">She brought glory and honor to God.</span></span><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,102,102); FONT-STYLE: italic"> </span>We will never stop telling <a href="http://betsyandjason.blogspot.com/2009/09/prayer-for-olive-hope.html">her story</a>.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDSi-hGkqGRPpKBXCxSyj3FpKGhv1w-gckcLWjNvuPk6ULOvJKqGLt37zB-CCmp9SRsWg0L23dxSeX1M5Dl02xIcbpXkaOJcAkcsmRsNDNWJmXuwxPq3_5vXWCuGtB6xQ2wbwCmKeXYMxH/s1600-h/suffered.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429924718943194834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDSi-hGkqGRPpKBXCxSyj3FpKGhv1w-gckcLWjNvuPk6ULOvJKqGLt37zB-CCmp9SRsWg0L23dxSeX1M5Dl02xIcbpXkaOJcAkcsmRsNDNWJmXuwxPq3_5vXWCuGtB6xQ2wbwCmKeXYMxH/s400/suffered.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB5cCieuViJcB_p8PLOi25rE6TQnKyKd7aLciaKjib4YMS_qxyoGdz4zvhGI6vXrdXtZkHtLF9H7MgFGBpoavP6tH0yvMWkqtVIpan3Cs3zLjVtyq0fjElcY934nZfg2u7EDZXZo3v1EQy/s1600-h/OliveScriptures.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429925024897481186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB5cCieuViJcB_p8PLOi25rE6TQnKyKd7aLciaKjib4YMS_qxyoGdz4zvhGI6vXrdXtZkHtLF9H7MgFGBpoavP6tH0yvMWkqtVIpan3Cs3zLjVtyq0fjElcY934nZfg2u7EDZXZo3v1EQy/s400/OliveScriptures.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-bOJBYBsAeXHz71XQQsalhZlBEjPSlJBFM3eZPUqsKvgbyaOPTaB5URsR0Gw7joMPYt1vRQ-IJdjwQXcgArAt8NUXVA8gY_LffyZd9bZv1TX4x-R9xAIhA12XSk0c8KHD4VV4k9uRDYMc/s1600-h/Eyes.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429925273066765202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-bOJBYBsAeXHz71XQQsalhZlBEjPSlJBFM3eZPUqsKvgbyaOPTaB5URsR0Gw7joMPYt1vRQ-IJdjwQXcgArAt8NUXVA8gY_LffyZd9bZv1TX4x-R9xAIhA12XSk0c8KHD4VV4k9uRDYMc/s400/Eyes.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0kr-tIGzbU050W_gxBAKUdCPbUyvoaThn_6ILZsx1X4P7lHIOtj6vhAy-sHdS8hCoAvEgvpRTZV9znUVnoLvpPrBnbG2DETHgjaOT3s_Utdg3cKgBmnjOtHjbFi0wFOlwCBc6kNkp45MO/s1600-h/8517_1251183953776_1054808187_828878_7570646_n.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429925411052088450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 275px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0kr-tIGzbU050W_gxBAKUdCPbUyvoaThn_6ILZsx1X4P7lHIOtj6vhAy-sHdS8hCoAvEgvpRTZV9znUVnoLvpPrBnbG2DETHgjaOT3s_Utdg3cKgBmnjOtHjbFi0wFOlwCBc6kNkp45MO/s400/8517_1251183953776_1054808187_828878_7570646_n.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwvA1VSf1lAGv4dXdjTxFJeBhcJn7xNXbSraj53jVIogWjr628SgwN6JfiMSWnVnW51Uwt82qxEYYgvMGL3pbmc8YhmfNWi1KNJjU0Kr_T55sfgtpzVc1c2qcwk3KI3bWmoxcnC4gncm0w/s1600-h/11858_1269855620556_1054808187_883248_4690663_n-1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429925596375722658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwvA1VSf1lAGv4dXdjTxFJeBhcJn7xNXbSraj53jVIogWjr628SgwN6JfiMSWnVnW51Uwt82qxEYYgvMGL3pbmc8YhmfNWi1KNJjU0Kr_T55sfgtpzVc1c2qcwk3KI3bWmoxcnC4gncm0w/s400/11858_1269855620556_1054808187_883248_4690663_n-1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1-1EqZaeXh1fLgZec7N8iq6HfDPLurOI2ek6Ke122XXXLW5TPjoMaT5V3IgKynT42fkrNFQecCXvYxqQcq7NepBX0Y8EIpSQyG9y_augyBFW67nBNY3N_TCSfaNqwWSyPkB7J53GvabsM/s1600-h/14450_1269053880513_1054808187_881441_5147490_n.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429925809011111074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1-1EqZaeXh1fLgZec7N8iq6HfDPLurOI2ek6Ke122XXXLW5TPjoMaT5V3IgKynT42fkrNFQecCXvYxqQcq7NepBX0Y8EIpSQyG9y_augyBFW67nBNY3N_TCSfaNqwWSyPkB7J53GvabsM/s400/14450_1269053880513_1054808187_881441_5147490_n.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidr_dfbMMnAUDQkuEL2X_rHEPDbI5rOI4sNZyi_fgQpse530MV-zG2L7IM-UHeIj1wba4svdgAFgXlG3RScI_6pazgXrMN0yu8IdU4_IYLTz-1zu-0b58Jjk1Uf_8ckHN3XtBBYv1TROs1/s1600-h/18468_1313230304896_1054808187_1013258_7989618_n.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429926072118997506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidr_dfbMMnAUDQkuEL2X_rHEPDbI5rOI4sNZyi_fgQpse530MV-zG2L7IM-UHeIj1wba4svdgAFgXlG3RScI_6pazgXrMN0yu8IdU4_IYLTz-1zu-0b58Jjk1Uf_8ckHN3XtBBYv1TROs1/s400/18468_1313230304896_1054808187_1013258_7989618_n.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZH_CWiKTLX2rrXcHOpW2zGIvBMDIp04G9oOobpfSB-WS94l-8NkDhOTwFKDZh2KkhIDB5QcpredmZARveWnrUKeKYSrRo3G-PLUQ8NseH4T7U7F7k6z67xmWIKQpODNnaBVlHWmio-Wzq/s1600-h/18468_1296466765818_1054808187_956305_5864573_n.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429926372709910546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZH_CWiKTLX2rrXcHOpW2zGIvBMDIp04G9oOobpfSB-WS94l-8NkDhOTwFKDZh2KkhIDB5QcpredmZARveWnrUKeKYSrRo3G-PLUQ8NseH4T7U7F7k6z67xmWIKQpODNnaBVlHWmio-Wzq/s400/18468_1296466765818_1054808187_956305_5864573_n.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /></a>Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04153298838071579556noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9164529488335230801.post-24664545152481642012010-01-18T15:36:00.007-06:002011-02-09T22:00:01.117-06:00in a flash<em></em><blockquote><p align="left"><em><em>July 6, 2006<br /><br />I was driving home late tonight in the middle of one of the most amazing storms I have seen in quite some time. The lightning was spectacular. Huge raindrops were beating against my windshield and the road had that slick, wet glisten on it that makes it hard to see when it rains at night. But I didn’t mind driving slow—I was enjoying the lightning.<br /><br />The lightning made me think about God, about the way he shows up in our lives sometimes. As I watched the jet black sky abruptly being lit up by bolts of electricity, I remembered all of the times that God has broken into my world—completely out of nowhere, when everything was dark and the rains poured all around me—unannounced, He was there.<br /><br />With God, things have the potential to turn around in an instant. As I heard one pastor put it, "Trusting in God changes all the possibilities." I have come to realize that I never know just when an answer to my prayers is going to come. Time and time again, God sweeps in and lights up my world without warning.<br /></em></em></p></blockquote><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqDu2MrmhBHxWEEPZ-JgenKVliVGXgZSR590N6-bkUgyVev-f2SCx5v6C3ve7rOWZnBPBHjHEgd7-U23NWJSmVwUOiAvWHUCo4SjNmeVwc8qbiMayI4-Okzg_LdMpUR31fxvtaD9M3nNyD/s1600-h/lightning_night.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428197873362312594" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 300px; height: 297px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqDu2MrmhBHxWEEPZ-JgenKVliVGXgZSR590N6-bkUgyVev-f2SCx5v6C3ve7rOWZnBPBHjHEgd7-U23NWJSmVwUOiAvWHUCo4SjNmeVwc8qbiMayI4-Okzg_LdMpUR31fxvtaD9M3nNyD/s400/lightning_night.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />I wrote this back in 2006, and while it’s been a while since I’ve seen a good lightning storm, I remember that night vividly. And almost four years later, the simple truth hasn’t changed (and it never will): God is waiting at every turn to break into our world.<br /><br />So if the rains are pouring down, be encouraged. When the sky is dark, and your journey is slowed by the blinding downpour of life around you, turn on your headlights, watch carefully for glimpses of your Savior, and keep going forward. <strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"><em>Trusting in God changes all the possibilities.</em></span></strong>Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04153298838071579556noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9164529488335230801.post-52300079395692846512010-01-08T16:55:00.003-06:002010-03-15T19:19:25.901-05:00Let us not grow weary...<span style="font-weight: bold;">Galatians 6:9 (New International Version)<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.<span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></span></span><span><br />I couldn't get this verse off my mind today. Much of the reasoning is due to some difficult conversations Jason and I have been having about the struggles of leading a church and dedicating our lives to the calling of God to shepard His sheep. I had never thought before about the fact that shepards live their lives alone with their sheep.<br /><br />Alone.<br /><br />It's such a scary word. We've all been alone before.<br /><br />As I think about this verse, I think about what it is to be alone, and what it is to be the community of Christ - the Church, to one another. To love, to share, to remember, to encourage. Maybe it's just to <span style="font-style: italic;">BE</span> with someone. To help one another to not grow weary.<br /><br />I think about Rusty, Lynette, and little Olive, and how they need our prayers just as much today as they did in the first struggling moments of Olive's life (you can read the beginning of Olive's story <a href="http://betsyandjason.blogspot.com/2009/09/prayer-for-olive-hope.html">here</a>).<br /><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Let us not become weary in doing good...<br /></span></span><br />Olive, Lynette, and Rusty need us to not grow weary... We must press on. We must pray. Like the lone shepard, let us- the Church- tend to the flock given to us.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">(You can read more updates about Olive at </span><a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://rustylynette.blogspot.com/">http://rustylynette.blogspot.com/</a><span style="font-style: italic;">)<br /><br /></span>Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04153298838071579556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9164529488335230801.post-52921717489310342542009-12-30T21:56:00.003-06:002010-03-15T19:18:55.489-05:00Welcome Home Olive!Have you heard? Little Olive is home in the United States!!!<br /><a href=" http://rustylynette.blogspot.com"><br />http://rustylynette.blogspot.com</a>Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04153298838071579556noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9164529488335230801.post-16185865283336056882009-12-23T09:37:00.004-06:002011-03-05T20:32:31.175-06:00Advent Prayer by Henri Nouwen<em>Someone sent this to Rusty and Lynette, and seeing as Henri Nouwen is one of my all time favorites.... I just had to share it here too. Merry Christmas friends. May you find joy this season in His presence.</em><br /><br />Lord Jesus, Master of both the light and the darkness<br />send your Holy Spirit upon us this season.<br /><br />We who have much to do<br />seek quiet spaces to hear<br />Your voice each day.<br /><br />We who are anxious over many things<br />look forward to Your coming among us.<br /><br />We who are blessed in so many ways<br />long for the complete joy of Your kingdom.<br /><br />We whose hearts are heavy<br />seek the joy of Your presence.<br /><br />We are your people<br />walking in darkness, yet seeking the light.<br /><br />To You we say, Come Lord Jesus.<br />Amen.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQsQ78URN3sBij3uZMm3bp9Xja5lEcR5xuphLovE8VLYWsT2ndhbq43s3EA7CwdwAqC2UZ-EBDlMiPkNWKlFhllZZzF1TrewEyTng_bCmw1tl_b1srYKaFnObaLnG14l_5avlda8we9Ny-/s1600-h/advent.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQsQ78URN3sBij3uZMm3bp9Xja5lEcR5xuphLovE8VLYWsT2ndhbq43s3EA7CwdwAqC2UZ-EBDlMiPkNWKlFhllZZzF1TrewEyTng_bCmw1tl_b1srYKaFnObaLnG14l_5avlda8we9Ny-/s400/advent.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418457646166462642" /></a>Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04153298838071579556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9164529488335230801.post-48348215076268690412009-12-13T17:53:00.008-06:002011-03-05T20:32:31.176-06:00a different ChristmasWe're doing Christmas a little differently around the Davis house this year. We have purchased three modest gifts. Only three. And they aren't for anyone that lives in the Davis house. You'd think our tree would look awfully bare, with no shiny, fancy packages under it. A little useless, right? Empty stockings? Was someone bad in the Davis house? No, we're just doing it all differently this time around.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfQWQWnxOULlDnVaITEHgz6grt8ONc9A6Th5ojo9FgMF_rRbt6vtSlsT2SzMyQ8um4PL6XHXQ5XeflWQmW5YzbjjECfDkTgtqYdwQNluA3OknIbK2a_yi53-X-4HBaM7S8iTm8DHyy-9h_/s1600-h/stockings-mantle-thumb-250x166-21096.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 166px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfQWQWnxOULlDnVaITEHgz6grt8ONc9A6Th5ojo9FgMF_rRbt6vtSlsT2SzMyQ8um4PL6XHXQ5XeflWQmW5YzbjjECfDkTgtqYdwQNluA3OknIbK2a_yi53-X-4HBaM7S8iTm8DHyy-9h_/s400/stockings-mantle-thumb-250x166-21096.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428248557140993570" /></a><br />Did you know that Americans spend an estimated $474.5 BILLION on Christmas each year? And that the average American will spend $935 on Christmas this year? Here's a breakdown that will (should) turn your stomach. The average American will spend, this year:<br /><ul><li>$550 on gifts for family & friends (that's just ONE american!)</li><li>$120 on themselves (HAVE to have that new Christmas outfit!)</li><li>$70 on co-workers and miscellaneous others</li><li>$41.50 on a Christmas tree</li><li>$32.48 on Christmas cards & postage</li><li>$22.61 on flowers</li><li>$95.04 on food & candy</li><li>$51.43 on decorations</li><li>$960.50 on holiday travel for those who don't live near family</li></ul>Jason and I decided to change up our Christmas many weeks ago. We've had many conversations about spending less to be able to give more. Giving to individuals who we know that are in need, yes, but also giving relationally, to one another, and to certain people in our lives. You see, the very first Christmas was a moment that broke the silence of 400 years... God's people had not heard him speak for ages. They were living in darkness. They were in need of a voice. They were in need of hope. And then, from Bethlehem, a baby cried out into the darkness. God was with them. When they needed a savior most, on their worst day, on their darkest night, God came, broke the silence, met their need, and dwelled among them.<br /><br />We know families, not only in this community, but all across the world, who are living in silence this Christmas. They have had their worst day, and it replays each day after. They are living in darkness, and it is time for their silence to be broken.<br /><br />Christmas was meant, from the very beginning, to be voice in the darkness, and an experience that makes us more like Christ. May yours be just that. It's more than enough.<br /><br />Merry Christmas,<br /><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85749/betsyjdavis/e1390731a124f8c4db96f323321c2139.png" style="border: 0pt none ! important; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; -moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-origin: padding; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous;" border="0" /></a>Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04153298838071579556noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9164529488335230801.post-44171370778421996372009-12-09T07:22:00.002-06:002010-03-15T19:18:55.483-05:00life keeps moving on...Things are continuing to progress with Olive. You can check out the latest update over at Lynette & Rusty's blog: <a href="http://rustylynette.blogspot.com/">http://rustylynette.blogspot.com/</a><br /><br />Little Olive is a fighter! Let's keep fighting with her in prayer.Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04153298838071579556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9164529488335230801.post-34952666211886691392009-12-09T07:13:00.004-06:002010-03-15T19:18:55.476-05:00Olive Updates...<div class="note_header"><div class="note_title_share clearfix"><div style="font-weight: bold;" class="note_title"><span><span style="font-style: italic;">More updates from Lynette over the last week on little Olive...</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><br />Get us out of here!</span></span></div> <div class="byline"><span style="font-style: italic;">Thursday, December 3, 2009 at 9:29am</span><br /><br /></div></div></div> Rough and frustrating day.<br /><br />This morning after we arrived to the hospital we were told we needed to leave the NICU while the neurosurgeon tapped Olive's head. Midway through the procedure the neonatologist came out to tell us that the neurosurgeon had changed his mind and decided to put in a temporary drain that would stay in for seven days. She told us the procedure was almost finished, and we started asking many questions. For one, WHY was he doing a different procedure than he had discussed with us yesterday without talking to us first? Especially because we had talked with him yesterday about our concerns with placing a temporary drain when Olive still has lingering signs of her infection (her WBC count and protein aren't yet back to normal since her meningitis). We were told by a neonatologist we trust from the States that this is not an ideal procedure given her current labs.<br /><br />After he finished the procedure he came and talked to us. He said that the research shows the same rate of infection between intermittent tapping and a temporary drain...not what we have heard from other sources.<br /><br />Throughout the day Olive's oxygen level wasn't as well as normal so they decided to increase her oxygen. She also had an increased heart rate with no signs of infection so they thought she was having pain from the procedure...things that didn't happen with the drain the last three times.<br /><br />The doctors and nurses told me they would like to keep her in the incubator for the afternoon so that she could rest. I was feeling pretty frustrated as to why she couldn't rest in my arms so I asked the head doctor again and she said it would be ok to hold her. After holding her her oxygen saturation went up on its own and we could take her off of the oxygen they were giving her.<br /><br />They had put tape all over her head to keep this drain in place and some of it was coming off and I could see the catheter from the drain was starting to come out. The neurosurgeon had tried to secure it with the nipple off a bottle and that was filled with moisture from Olive sweating. Warm and moist...a perfect breeding ground for bacteria. great.<br /><br />So I showed the doctor that the catheter was coming out and pointed out the moisture. All the residents came over to look (7 of them) and after calling the neurosurgeon they decided to remove the drain later tonight to prevent infection. They decided to take out an additional 20 ml before removing it. In the morning they had only removed 5 ml...which I am still confused at why they would remove such a little amount.<br /><br />The resident came to remove the drain, and Olive screamed through the whole thing as her hair was being pulled out by the crazy amount of tape they had put on her head. After the resident started draining the fluid, we noticed the tape on her head getting wet...not a good sign. By the time everything was finished and we were cleaning up the tech came to test the CSF fluid and pointed out that there were 53 ml of fluid in the container. That means that instead of draining the 20 ml of fluid as planned, somehow she didn't notice it continuing to drain and she ended up draining about 48 ml of fluid in a two minute period.<br /><br />Earlier today they told me the max they can drain is 10 ml/kg every four hours. That would mean 17 ml of fluid every four hours. Clearly you can see this wasn't ideal. The doctor tried to play it cool and I was nervously looking at Olive. Her fontanel was EXTREMELY sunk in after everything was over. The resident then told the neonatologist what had happened and the neurosurgeon. They said the biggest things they worry about it dehydration, low blood pressure, and electrolyte imbalances. I have also been told before that they cannot remove the fluid too quickly or it can have serious implications on the brain.<br /><br />I didn't want to put Olive back in her isolette tonight. The doctors went home and lots of new residents came on shift...who are usually confused and learning things for the first time. The nurses that were on tonight were also not the best ones of the group. Both things leaving me nervous.<br /><br />Then one of the younger nurses came over and said in Thai, "Mother, you can hold her for ten more minutes and then you need to go home so that we nurses can work." So the nurses can work? Am I really bothering you that much by sitting here and holding Olive as she sleeps in my arms? Ten minutes later she returned to give me a lecture about visiting Olive too much and getting in the nurses way. I told her that I didn't understand, because the head nurse gave us the ok to visit her anytime we wanted. I said that it didn't seem to bother anyone but her. She said it would be better if we came less like the other parents and that our daughter's situation is better than the other babies in the room.<br /><br />I wanted to tell her that I didn't want to be here. That Olive was supposed to go back to the States last week, but she got meningitis from her drain and couldn't leave. I wanted to tell her that in the NICU in America that the parents can visit anytime and research proves the benefits of it.<br /><br />Let's just say that by the end of our conversation I was in tears and walking home. It took everything in me not to tell her what I really thought of her. Probably for the best.<br /><br />Who knows what tomorrow will bring...but I am praying lots of prayers that Olive will be o.k. tonight despite the circumstances of today.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjetLwptX3Z2fMjkv_o3jaNkiuPpSsUzZHQ9FoDJl3Nd5b8-ZEn-t0qcvY-XmIuziNINL1MXRm6ELFqAShZ0Zx546zCS363XxY6CrWZGZiKtFe6pa0lw_zyqU4M76nSUhZIAc0e7Flqma4P/s1600-h/11858_1281309426894_1054808187_917079_8314932_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjetLwptX3Z2fMjkv_o3jaNkiuPpSsUzZHQ9FoDJl3Nd5b8-ZEn-t0qcvY-XmIuziNINL1MXRm6ELFqAShZ0Zx546zCS363XxY6CrWZGZiKtFe6pa0lw_zyqU4M76nSUhZIAc0e7Flqma4P/s400/11858_1281309426894_1054808187_917079_8314932_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413225469596311698" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >another day...</span><br /><div class="note_header"><div class="byline"><span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span><span style="font-style: italic;">Friday, December 4, 2009 at 12:48pm</span><br /><br /></div></div> Olive did well overnight last night. Today after arriving at the hospital the head nurse asked us to talk to her in her office. She said she that last night she heard about last night's incidence with the nurse being rude and wanted to apologize. Apparently this isn't the first time this nurse has been aggressive with parents in the NICU, as well as other nurses on staff. She told me that she communicated with all the nurses that we are able to visit from 8 am to 8 pm, and that the nurse will be written up for her impolite behavior.<br /><br />Around noon our doctor from the private hospital came to visit along with the two nurses who were going to travel back to the States with us last week. They asked how things were going and when they found out about all of the issues we have had with trying to remove fluid from Olive's head they were unpleasantly surprised. They suggested we talk directly with the head neurosurgeon about these issues.<br /><br />We originally moved Olive to this hospital because the doctors at the private hospital spoke very highly of the neurosurgeon here. However, he has been either out of the country for the last month or too busy to be involved in Olive's case and sends his team instead of coming himself. We are not willing for Olive to continue to be an experiment for the residents to learn on, especially with procedures that will may affect her brain and long-term outcome. Since arriving here we have had her first drain cause meningitis, two poorly done lumbar punctures where only 6 ml of fluid was removed, and another poorly placed drain with major mistakes made when removing it. Something MUST change if we are going to stay here.<br /><br />All this to say, tomorrow we have a meeting set up with the head neurosurgeon to talk about what the plan will be to continue removing fluid from Olive's head, and to request him to be the one to do these procedures rather than passing them off to his students. If this meeting doesn't go well, we will consider moving her back to a private hospital, even though the cost is 10 times greater.<br /><br />This evening after visiting hours ended, we went with one of the NICU nurses to see Christmas lights downtown Bangkok in celebration of the king of Thailand. We had a really nice evening out together.<br /><br />Sleep is beckoning me...<br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >Hoping for a change.</span><br /><div class="byline"><span style="font-style: italic;">Sun at 8:23am</span><br /><br /></div> Yesterday we met with the neurosurgeon and his team. We shared all of our frustrations with Olives' care so far, and our concern with her remaining here without a better plan in place.<br /><br />Before leaving after the meeting he tapped Olive's head and removed 20 ml of fluid.<br /><br />Apparently our neonatologist had training in the States before, and she has agreed to do tapping every two days to remove fluid. This seems to be a good option, better than having residents without much experience doing it, or waiting for the neurosurgeons to come who are extremely busy.<br /><br />Tomorrow the neonatologist is going to do another tap. Rusty and I have agreed to give this hospital another 3-4 days and see how things go after having our meeting with the neurosurgeon and see if things improve. They are saying that if the protein continues to decrease in her CSF (cerebral spinal fluid), and she reaches 2 kg (4.4 lbs) then they would go ahead with the VP shunt surgery.<br /><br />If after a few days we are still not feeling comfortable with the care we will most likely move her back to the private hospital.<br /><br />over and out.Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04153298838071579556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9164529488335230801.post-77909494617808427662009-12-02T18:10:00.011-06:002011-03-16T16:03:12.367-05:00Olive and the teddy grahamSorry for the delay in updates on Olive... This little teddy graham has kept me pretty knocked out lately.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy3IJAuz3G6NcXDhTn2_KIhVJ3dFvzNepAsr7IO3dxrTBG4JlzsLdBvri2a_g0uwJor5XgU0zngSbqu9-Rw8gVHS5MtfRWpzzZYQtPgO-_TLPmC7j_eJktC3v2PJkCSU7nKiSwaf6vD7Kt/s1600-h/PB200063.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy3IJAuz3G6NcXDhTn2_KIhVJ3dFvzNepAsr7IO3dxrTBG4JlzsLdBvri2a_g0uwJor5XgU0zngSbqu9-Rw8gVHS5MtfRWpzzZYQtPgO-_TLPmC7j_eJktC3v2PJkCSU7nKiSwaf6vD7Kt/s400/PB200063.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410796316777613602" border="0" /></a><br />Here are updates on Olive from Lynette over the last few days:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">No more infection!</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Thursday, November 26, 2009 at 10:50am</span><br />Olive had another lumbar puncture today and the results were very good. No more bacteria found in the sample, and the white blood cell count, protein, and sugar were all back to normal. She has been much more active and breathing on room air again without the help of any machines, so we are feeling very encouraged about this.<br /><br />Rusty spent the morning holding her, and at lunch we swapped and I spent the afternoon holding her. Tonight after I put her back in her isolette she was crying, irritated and flinging her limbs in all directions. I took her back out and thought maybe she needed to be burped, but that didn't seem to help all too much. She probably cried for a good 15 minutes without calming down. Then I noticed her trying to shove her hand in her mouth, so I stuck my finger in her mouth and she started sucking away. We gave her a pacifier and she was suddenly comforted and fell asleep. This is the first day she has had a strong sucking reflex, so we are excited. We may be able to start trying to breast feed later in the week if she continues to stay strong and breath well on her own.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />CT Scan<br />Saturday, November 28, 2009 at 7:23am</span><br />Today Olive's neurosurgeon came to look at her recent CT Scan (done yesterday) and explain the results to us. <span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">Her brain tissue continues to expand (!!!)</span></span>, and the clot from the previous hemorrhage continues to liquify. We are excited for every good news we get about her brain tissue continuing to expand, even if it is little by little. Olive also still has communicating hydrocephalus which means they can continue doing lumbar punctures every few days to relieve the pressure in her head.<br /><br />As far as the results of her lumbar puncture, the CSF fluid contains no more bacteria or organisms so that is good news. The glucose level in her CSF fluid is also back to baseline. However, her protein and WBC count are still not back at the normal level. He said that this increase in protein causes her CSF fluid to be more viscous, which is why we need to wait to put in the VP shunt. If we did it now, the increased protein level could cause the shunt to clot and not work properly.<br /><br />SOOOOO...the neurosurgeon is saying that we will wait on the WBC count to level out as well as the protein. Once those two lab values are in place we will consider putting in the VP shunt...maybe in another two weeks or so. And hoping that her weight is closer to 2 kg (4.4 lbs) by then.<br /><br />If an opportunity to return to the States would arise before the surgery we would jump on it. Otherwise we will plan on being here for the surgery and recovery.<br /><br />Last night I tried breast-feeding Olive with the help of the nurses and she was starting to get the hang of it. However, this morning when the neonatologist found out he wasn't too impressed. He says that it is very important for us to know her intake and output at this point, and he would like to wait on that. So...today there was no more of that.<br /><br />Today I was looking at photos of Olive in her first days of life and couldn't believe how much she has changed in two months. She has been through so much in her short little life, especially to think that my due date isn't even until December 15th. We are so grateful for each day we've had with her and for the days ahead.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwkNBu2ACMSAd7Imk3sze0TVlKxirtqpXiqhc4Wo6rf4T4nMn36OF81b067UfJeS57RrySF-gzPp86f0ljp9Xo6T1QKWt41DSxkDP2B6IF8tzswCsPQxK7Fi10JucdVj6Lde0HCj4rQasS/s1600-h/11858_1276739392646_1054808187_904316_5935390_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwkNBu2ACMSAd7Imk3sze0TVlKxirtqpXiqhc4Wo6rf4T4nMn36OF81b067UfJeS57RrySF-gzPp86f0ljp9Xo6T1QKWt41DSxkDP2B6IF8tzswCsPQxK7Fi10JucdVj6Lde0HCj4rQasS/s400/11858_1276739392646_1054808187_904316_5935390_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410797360381728002" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Olive - 2 days old</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6jqgfylH1HURNwif5jKEeIkoH6_K7inzM5uspnbXbWboO0Y-0cAXmQgCvPuh1tdxjXAP2mc5TQbgOLJFObeKvMZF9qfd62AmmFNfi1KYti2DORVpkeL3R8Z_iJ5hRQX0gWlKyde9E0dZS/s1600-h/11858_1269855620556_1054808187_883248_4690663_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6jqgfylH1HURNwif5jKEeIkoH6_K7inzM5uspnbXbWboO0Y-0cAXmQgCvPuh1tdxjXAP2mc5TQbgOLJFObeKvMZF9qfd62AmmFNfi1KYti2DORVpkeL3R8Z_iJ5hRQX0gWlKyde9E0dZS/s400/11858_1269855620556_1054808187_883248_4690663_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410797490439168562" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Olive - 2 months old</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Livin it up in Bangkok<br />Mon at 9:05am</span><br />Olive had another lumbar puncture done today, and only 6 ml was removed because she was being squirmy and the resident couldn't keep the needle in. She only had 6 ml removed a few days ago too. From what I hear from the States, normally you release around 15 ml or above at a time, so I'm hoping they know what they are doing by releasing such a small amount.<br /><br />Anyhoo...<br /><br />Her protein level and WBC count in her CSF decreased more today (this is good news). Tonight she is getting a blood transfusion of packed red blood cells cause she was a little anemic. She was sucking away on her little pacifier when I left her tonight.<br /><br />Rusty left for Chiang Rai this morning and will be there until Wednesday night taking care of some business with the sponsorship program and visiting friends.<br /><br />So, I figure now that I'm all alone in Bangkok its time to live it up!<br /><br />"Living it up" will most likely consist of visiting Olive at the hospital everyday, going out for a cappuccino with whip cream, and if I'm feeling real wild and crazy I might even start writing thank-you notes.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />the word on the street.<br />Tuesday at 10:13am</span><br />I spent the day at the hospital with Olive today. Today she was pretty drowsy and not acting much like herself. This evening her oxygen saturation was on the low side of being o.k. so the residents decided to do another lumbar puncture. I was feeling anxious about having another resident do the procedure since the last two times they didn't do the best job and only removed 6 ml of CSF fluid.<br /><br />I'm trying to find the balance of protecting Olive from being a resident's case to practice on, and being a patient's mother who isn't super annoying. I realize I am at a teaching hospital, but I am not a fan of Olive being someone's case to practice on...(insert nervous sigh here).<br /><br />Olive cried through the whole thing. They removed 15 cc of fluid this time. After the procedure she seemed more like herself and spent a good 20 minutes alert and flinging her little limbs around. I held her for another hour before walking back to the apartment.<br /><br />Tomorrow the neurosurgeons are planning on placing another temporary ventricular drain to remove more fluid.<br /><br />The head neonatologist said it would be o.k. for me to begin trying to breast-feed Olive tomorrow, so I'm hoping things go o.k.<br /><br />Rusty was able to be home for the rice harvesting at the AYDC in Chiang Rai today. All the parents of the kids came to participate so he was able to connect with a lot of them and share in eating some dog for lunch. : >)<br /><br />The weather in the north is much colder than here in Bangkok. He is sleeping in a sleeping bag and comforter in Chiang Rai, and I am sweating down here in Bangkok as I listen to Christmas music.<br /><br />Still no word on another flight being available to go back to the States anytime soon.<br /><br />love,<br /><br />Lynette<br /><br />P.S. We have five breast pumps donated for the NICU in Chiang Rai, so we are set!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The little champ.<br />Today at 10:56am</span><br />Had a really good day with Olive today. This morning the opthamologist came and looked at her again and said he is still very pleased with the results and doesn't think she will be needing any further treatment. They will keep doing weekly checks to make sure things continue to stay on track with her vision.<br /><br />This afternoon we started breast-feeding. Olive latched on like a little champ, and once she was on her eyes got huge and she looked really excited and unsure what to do about the milk coming out into her mouth. I was laughing at her little expression and trying not to scare her with my shaking. Her vitals stayed good, and she had no issues with her oxygen level dropping so the neonatologist gave us the go ahead to continue trying a little each day.<br /><br />Today I also met with both the neurologist and neurosurgeon. Starting tomorrow morning they will do daily tapping to remove fluid from her head. From what I understand they just use a syringe and will remove between 10-30 ml of fluid each time.<br /><br />Rusty will return tonight from Chiang Rai. He had a really good time connecting with friends there.<br /><br />love,<br /><br />LynetteBetsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04153298838071579556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9164529488335230801.post-40072823812863209012009-11-25T14:20:00.004-06:002011-09-09T15:12:13.272-05:00Thankful.It’s rather typical to list off all of the things that we are grateful for at this time of year. But this time around, I am grateful for more, and in a deeper way, than I could have ever imagined at this time a year ago.<br />
<br />
I am unwaveringly grateful for the incredible journey that the last year has taken me on. Coming out on the other side, it’s easier to say so; there were moments of great sorrow, deep disappointment, and bitter tears that I thought at times would never stop flowing. And nonetheless, there were moments of hope and joy, and the dawning of new friendships that would renew a part of my faith that had forgotten that God truly does care about the little things. And when the weight was too heavy to bear, there was my husband. My precious, God-seeking, devoted partner, softly speaking truth and hope. I couldn’t imagine a better companion on the dusty trails of this life.<br />
<br />
This year has taught me to never be led by just my heart, but to be led by Truth <em>confirmed</em> in my heart. With the ups and downs of life, my heart keeps up pace, bouncing up and down in the tidal wave of emotion. But Truth does not change. This year I was reminded that the goodness of God is pursuing me, and no matter how long and exhausting the journey has seemed, God has been waiting to be good to me <em>(Isaiah 30:18, the Message).<br />
</em><br />
Less than three months ago, I was introduced to Evelyn. She was just three days old when I met her. Any newborn has the power to melt my heart, but Evelyn is something special. Evelyn’s life catapulted my faith in God in a way I didn’t even realize until the day I first held her in my arms. You see, Evelyn’s mommy was given the same diagnosis that I had been given during this past year… It involved a mass growing on the brain, and even with proper treatment, one of the many common side-effects was infertility. And yet, on a sparkling late-summer afternoon, there in my arms lay baby Evelyn. The fruit of God’s faithfulness.<br />
<br />
In recent months, I stumbled upon another young and miraculous life, swadled in the arms of an old friend and sister in Christ. Her name is Olive Hope. For the last two months my husband and I have prayed for Olive and her parents thousands of miles away, as they bear the weight of the world on their shoulders and watch their little one fight for life on a daily basis. As the world joins with us in prayer, we have seen miracle after miracle, and yet the journey is far from over. <strong>Olive has reminded me again that God is faithful,</strong> and that God sees a picture that is much larger than the canvas of our own lives. She reminds me that ultimately, God will be glorified, and that alone is reason enough to be grateful for <strong>life, in any form or condition.</strong><br />
<br />
And here, in the midst of these very miracles, tangled up in prayers for Evelyn and Olive Hope, a new life was created… and this time, against all odds, the life was created and formed within <strong>ME.</strong><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3UBK3qt9-Fc3g6AkH0AlbWY2OSBP5RXHDp9VPzSgjjj_3QtleBiGcC_2POPMs7EF7xcW7fs3Qmr97YfWUfzJL0kE1rCMzsgA0jHf9Xl2M3wGLeIsKkyp2IJHuhEXFbFgzywJwxvG9f2HE/s1600-h/pray____by_mehmeturgut.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428249070634726594" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3UBK3qt9-Fc3g6AkH0AlbWY2OSBP5RXHDp9VPzSgjjj_3QtleBiGcC_2POPMs7EF7xcW7fs3Qmr97YfWUfzJL0kE1rCMzsgA0jHf9Xl2M3wGLeIsKkyp2IJHuhEXFbFgzywJwxvG9f2HE/s400/pray____by_mehmeturgut.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 233px;" /></a><br />
<em><strong>"For this child I prayed; and the LORD hath given me my petition which I asked of Him." 1 Samuel 1:27</strong></em><br />
<br />
Your love Lord, truly does reach to the heavens. Your faithfulness leaps beyond the horizon and into the forgotten corners of my heart. You have pierced my heart with your goodness this year, and to you alone be the glory.<br />
<br />
<em>"Enter his gates with thanksgiving and his courts with praise; </em><br />
<em>give thanks to him and praise his name. </em><br />
<em>For the LORD is good and his love endures forever; </em><br />
<em>his faithfulness continues through all generations."<br />
Psalm 100:4-5</em>Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04153298838071579556noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9164529488335230801.post-27876996437471771482009-11-23T06:56:00.000-06:002010-03-15T19:18:55.479-05:00Negative Nancy.<div class="note_header"><div class="note_title_share clearfix"><div style="font-style: italic;" class="note_title"><span>From Lynette<br /></span></div> <div class="byline"><span style="font-style: italic;">Today at 4:50am</span><br /><br /></div></div></div> Another day of ups and downs. Woke up this morning with a pit in my stomach having no clue what the doctors decision would be if we would be able to make our flight tomorrow or not. This morning after arriving we learned that she had a stable night and has been stable throughout the morning.<br /><br />The opthamologist came and said he was happy with the results of her laser surgery and will come back to look at her eyes again in five days from now if we can't return to the States.<br /><br />Around 9:00 a.m. they did a lumbar puncture to remove 10 ml of CSF fluid to help relieve some of her intracranial pressure and also to evaluate how well she is responding to her antibiotics. The team of one doctor and two nurses who would be traveling to the States with us came to look at her around noon and told us based on her vital signs that they think everything is a go. They said they just needed to evaluate the results of the CSF fluid. So, about one hour later they returned with the results with a concerned look on their faces. Apparently the glucose level was very low, and protein was higher than it should be. They didn't think she was fit to fly. They said they would consult with the infectious disease specialists to get a final opinion.<br /><br />The team of infectious disease specialists said they were concerned about us not having a ventilator onboard the aircraft in the case of Olive having continued apnea. They also worry that if the meningitis continues to progress that she will start having more frequent seizures. They told us that meningitis can cause deafness, severe developmental problems, as well as seizure issues in SOME cases. Not very comforting news to hear.<br /><br />So...all of the doctors involved in Olive's case are telling us she cannot fly. We had our hopes up so high to have Olive at such a great hospital, and to be near family and friends as we continue walking through this journey.<br /><br />So here we are...lots of tears today, anger, and disappointment.<br /><br />Today I'm feeling angry at God, and wondering why there continues to be more and more bad news. I can see lots of ugly places in myself too in all of this. I want to be grateful for the good things He is doing...like the positive report on Olive's eyes, and the simple fact that we are included in the small percentage of people in this world to have access to this level of healthcare.<br /><br />I do miss my close friends that could just sit down beside me and grumble with me.<br /><br />love to all of you...<br /><br />LynetteBetsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04153298838071579556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9164529488335230801.post-90693261257636062042009-11-22T17:56:00.000-06:002010-03-15T19:18:55.471-05:00Dear Meningitis, I hate your guts.<div class="note_header"><div class="note_title_share clearfix"><div style="font-style: italic;" class="note_title"><span>From Lynette<br /></span></div> <div class="byline"><span style="font-style: italic;">Today at 10:09 am</span><br /><br /></div></div></div> <div class="note_content text_align_ltr direction_ltr clearfix"> <div>Today had lots to tears to accompany it. The organism that they found in Olive's CSF fluid is Staphylococcus Aureus...which means she has meningitis. This was the first news we heard upon arriving at the hospital this morning.<br /><br />Throughout the day Olive has had episodes of Apnea where she stops breathing and her heart rate drops. With the help of a little oxygen and patting her on the back, scratching the bottom or her feet, or rubbing her little cheeks her numbers eventually climb back up. The doctors are contributing this to her infection and say that hopefully by tomorrow night or Tuesday morning the clinical signs will start getting better once she has a few days of antibiotics in her system.<br /><br />The problem with all of this is that we need her to be stable to take her on the flight planned for Tuesday morning at 11:00 am. Everything is set up and in place...except for Olive's current health status.<br /><br />Tomorrow morning the doctor who would be traveling with Olive if we go to the States, is coming to the hospital to take a look at her and her labs to decide if she is fit to fly or not. They will be doing a lumbar puncture on Olive in the morning to assess the level of her current infection and also to remove 5 ml of CSF to help decrease her intracranial pressure. According to one neonatologist we have been talking with in the States, if they are able to control her infection by Tuesday and her vital signs stabilize she should be able to still make this flight.<br /><br />Another issue that we haven't yet been able to discuss with her neurosurgeon (because he has been in Japan for the last week) is how they are going to go about reducing her intracranial pressure now that she has an infection...(insert a deep tired sigh here).<br /><br />We are crawling into bed tonight feeling emotionally drained and down in the dumps. I'm not sure what you should be praying for at this point...maybe for the antibiotics to destroy all of the bacteria in her system so that her clinical symptoms improve by tomorrow? Or maybe pray that if this doesn't happen we will have the strength to embrace the next step if that means we need to stay here longer.<br /><br />Love,<br /><br />Lynette</div></div>Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04153298838071579556noreply@blogger.com0