year

At 8.48p at this time last year the world as my family knew it had changed. Q was born just over 2lbs and about 12 weeks before he was expected. It was unreal the ups and downs and how many people showered him and my sister and brother-in-law in prayer.

Q's first outfit, just days after he was born.

Q's first birthday party (a day late, since he was sick on his actual birthday)

This year, the little man who stole our hearts was sick and missed his own celebration. As guests came to our house just to say quick hellos, a moment stood out to me. My dad's best friend had come to drop off a card and wish the little man a happy one year of crawling around the earth. It was a simple conversation - if you can even call it that. As they stood in the doorway, my dad took Q in his arms and said, "Quinton, this is Eric." I wish I had a video of that moment in time, my dad so proud of his first little grandson. Words can't capture the sweetness of the moment. Which I realize is not so conducive to a blog, but it's my blog so I do what I want. Just take my word for it, it was tender and awesome.

It's pretty incredible and humbling to think that God, in the middle of running the world and keeping things together, had time and concern for this little life that's so important and precious to us and so far removed from presidents or kings or anyone that gets assigned "real" value. But He did. And a year later, even though he keeps me from sleeping anytime I get to come back to visit him, I'm so glad this little life continues ...and cries... and laughs ...and does his bodily functions wherever he wants. Because baby.

what I post every year

My parents met my boyfriend's parents for the first time a few months ago. After dinner, his mom texted me, "You definitely got the gift of gab from your mom!"

And I thought, oh no.

these are my parents. we don't look alike.

I clearly didn't get my genes from my parents, but they did give me a lot.

Family - for a very basic start. They loved this little girl that they saw pictures of at a rest stop in upstate New York and then met in a New York City airport. Enough that they let her into their world for a whole lifetime.

Jesus - It amazes me when I actually take the time to stop and think that of all the kids that were adopted and all of the families, I ended up in this one. One that went to church and encouraged me to follow God and set me up to figure out what it looks like to live life with Him.

Personality - which is somewhat scary, but also somewhat awesome. My mom cares about everyone. She tells me all the time that I'm too busy and I tell her this story about a pot and a kettle. She is instantly welcoming in any situation and so unbelievably good with names and faces that she knew every kid for 20 years that walked through her school doors - and their parents. My dad is brilliant, logical and always figuring out something in his head. He studies hard and works hard for as long as it takes to do something right. They showed me what it meant to love people and work for what I wanted.

Support - I'm still not 100% sure how much either of my parents really know or understand about figure skating, basketball or volleyball, but they drove hours to and from (and sometimes to and from again for my forgotten skates) games and competitions. They sat through endless high school plays and choir concerts - which I'm beginning to appreciate more and more now that I go to a lot of those myself.

Not to mention a host of other more tangible things like shelter and food and tamogatchi electronic pets and light up sneakers and all of the other things that kids from the 90's wanted.

Every year on this day, they've celebrated me and I think this might be the first year that I realized (yes, I'm a bit slow) that truly, I should be celebrating them.

celebration

I got baptized as a 9-ish year old kid (I have a terrible memory when it comes to dates). I remember going through class about what it meant to be a Christian and part of my church and what baptism was. I was the youngest person in my class by about 15 years, except for Claude. Claude was an 8-ish year old kid.

When I climbed into the giant baptismal (that made for an AWESOME hiding place as a kid), I was barely tall enough to be seen by the rest of the congregation. I was nervous - partially because I'm not a very good swimmer and partially because I wasn't sure if I was going to get water up my nose (I know, totally logical). I was totally focused on how I was going to breathe and starting to feel ready. The pastor asked me, "Do you have a special verse that you want to share with the congregation?"

WHOA. Not ready for that curveball, Pastor. You should have warned me if you wanted me to say anything. "No." Is what I squeaked out. (Claude, one year my younger, rattled off John 3.16 which my mom later told me is that I should have done at least. Claude could also probably swim better and wasn't afraid of having to be saved from drowning in 2 feet of water.) The pastor smiled and held my nose (*whew*) and pushed me under water demonstrating my belief in the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus. As I came out of the water, the rest of the church said a hearty, "amen."

Fast forward nearly 20 years - I have the awesome opportunity to be a part of the baptism service at my church. It's trouble really, because I have a hard enough time keeping back the flood of emotions just watching people get dunked in inflatable hot tubs and jump out of the water, arms in the air, droplets going everywhere. They're so proud and so excited to show the world their love for Jesus and desire for a better way to live.

a picture I took from the last baptism I got to watch

It looks a lot different than the way I was baptized. My partner (because I weigh about 112 pounds soaking wet and have the muscle mass of a tree squirrel) and I introduce ourselves to the people who climb into the inflatable hot tub (it's... like a baptistry).  We ask if they believe in the Lord Jesus Christ as their Savior and on their affirmation, we baptize them in His name. People cheer and clap and raise their hands in excitement, running up to hug their soaking wet friend or child or parent.

And in this spectacle of an event, people plunge under water, unafraid of freezing temperatures and who is watching. They're celebrating.

And they should. Because they get to celebrate the real, awesome life that they found in Jesus.

thankful

I am always looking forward to the next thing.
Looked forward to my first job (so I started working early because I was the coolest high school kid ever)
Looked forward to graduating high school.
Looked forward to graduating college (also early. Because I....
Looked forward to starting my first job in my career.
Then I looked forward to finding someone to marry... then getting engaged... then getting married.

And not that having goals isn't good. I just think I had misplaced my focus on "the next thing" and taken it off of the God that should have been my priority.

But this year is different.

This year, I made some great friends who encourage me and push me to be a better Jesus-follower, leader and person.

This year, I realized that the little girls that I met when they were 6th graders were becoming women. And watched them become leaders of a little 6th grade class of their own. 

This year, I watched God take care of my new nephew and see my sister and brother-in-law become incredible parents.

Not to mention getting to learn from some incredible men and women, going to another country to see a fantastic team of people working for actual change, getting to do a job I love and falling for a man that has seen me at my worst, but still chooses to be with me. Because that all happened to.

And for the first time, possibly ever, I'm not trying to push to the next stage without enjoying the one that I'm in. Life comes in seasons and I know the one I'm in won't last forever - and I don't want it to. But for now, I want to actually be thankful for where I'm at and thank God who has given me more than I could have asked for or imagined. 

untitled

I can't come up with a title for this post. It's just... some random thoughts at this point. So. Sorry.

I started helping out at my church's AWANA program as soon as I was old enough to go listen to the Sparks memorize Bible verses. What I do now isn't so much like that.

My Tuesday and Wednesday nights are often filled with music from some of the most talented people I know and hundreds of kids, hopefully looking for and finding a place they are safe. 

I looked around this week during our high school youth group and realized I wasn't just looking at 200 high schoolers. I saw the kid who's dad has ripped apart their family. The seniors stressed about getting into college. The loner who desperately wants to be noticed. The loud group in the back who have never set foot in any other church ever, but come here because their friends are here or they don't have anything else to do or... actually, sometimes I don't know why, but they show up. 

Every kid has their stuff. Something that keeps them up at night and rules their thinking. Just standing there, surrounded by students from every crowd in high school, it felt overwhelming that we would have the responsibility to point these students - wherever they're at - to Jesus, the most important thing, the person they are searching for, the value they desperately want. 

And I was grateful to be surrounded by a group of volunteers who wants to do the same thing. 

Overwhelming responsibility. But a great team to work at it with.

good samaritan

Sunday school. Today's lesson: The Good Samaritan.
Guy gets beaten up, robbed and left for dead. Two "religious guys" pass him and the guy that should have wanted nothing to do with him gives him help, hope and a chance at really living. Be a good Samaritan. Pray. Go home.

That's how I've heard that story my whole life.

This week at church, we looked at Luke 10.30. The first verse. Just a single verse out of this parable that I can practically quote:

A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he fell among robbers, who stripped him and beat him and departed, leaving him half dead.

He was stripped - his stuff, his dignity, all taken away.
He was beaten - he was hurt, in a way he might have never been hurt before.
He was abandoned.

And that's when I realized the person in the story that I was most like is the guy - hurt, confused, and alone - in a ditch. That would have died unless someone - or Someone - came to help change his situation.

The challenge went out to hold on, just a little longer, no matter what you're doing through. And to try to be that person for someone else. Because I'm prideful, I'd like to think I've been that person, but in reality, I looked at the people that were sitting with me at church and thought, I am much more the person in need than I've ever been the hero.

It made me grateful for the people who walked with me through The Dark Years (yes, I have divided my life into eras).
Thankful for the people who have celebrated everything from ice skating competition victories (yes, I have, in fact, heard every Michelle Kwan joke there is to make) to graduating from college.
And feel incredibly humbled that there is anyone willing to walk through the normal, every day life stuff that is mundane and sometimes downright boring.

I'm thankful for those who have been Good Samaritans in my world when I've had absolutely nothing to give. Guess that parable wasn't so simple after all.

been awhile.

So, clearly it's been awhile since I've posted last. Not for lack of adventures or passionate rants about loving my Droid, hating when parents mess up their kids, or whatever else it is that normally hits me.

I'm going to shamelessly blame the fact that I now manage two blogs.

Life has felt like a blur of hanging out with people I love, challenging them when I have to, learning the ropes in a new job, doing things I'm awful at, and generally, trying to become a better human. Not sure I'm really succeeding at any of them.

Last week I had to buy a new car. It stressed me out more than I really wanted it to and I'm sorry to the people around me who had to put up with me. At the end of the week, I'm exhausted and feel mostly like I could crawl in bed and not wake up for days. Or weeks.

My old car held lots of dents and lots of stories. Students getting violently ill in my backseat, drunken people throwing things and making dents, and kids climbing up my windshield to get in through the sunroof - to name a few.

I don't want to forget those moments and the things I learned from them. But I'm ready to not have a constant reminder in my driveway anymore - especially for a few of the stories that accompany the dents. I'm glad I get the chance - not just with my car - to put what has happened to me behind me and that I've got some people in my world who forgive me and bravely still want to be in my life.

Insert some motivational point here about moving on, but not forgetting. NEEDTOBREATHE said it well:

Can we put back all the pieces to the puzzles left behind?
We will soon be back together just before the stars align.
When the curtain falls for one last time and closes out the show.
Marching left, right, left, another step. Keep smiling as you go.
Movin on 

Im sick of good intentions how they always tend to drown.
But, then, nothing seems to stay afloat living in the saddest town.
When the curtain falls for one last time and closes out the show.
Marching left, right, left, another step. Keep smiling as you go.
Movin on 

Youre out of room for marking days on the wall
The lines remind of just how long Ive been gone
Youre holding on but now its time to let go.
Just let it go.
Movin on 

We could be the story that'll break your heart.
We could be the victim of a fall apart.
Maybe we could last another week or so.
Movin on, baby, means you gotta let it go.

family.

As we started middle school camp last week, one of leaders prayed that our students would get "to feel just a taste of family." It made me tear up then, but by the end of the week after several conversations, that sentiment became more of a goal than a just a phrase.

I was adopted into an awesome family - two parents, a sister (and for more than half my life, a brother-in-law) - who loved Jesus, loved me and taught me how to follow God and love people. 

I spent a week with students whose homes are broken.

Whose parents make them feel like a mistake.
Whose dad's have done more harm than protection.
Whose mom's forget them.
Who feel completely alone.

One of my co-workers said it best when he said that it makes you feel blessed, and then almost a bit guilty to have grown up in such a great situation.

"A taste of family" - something the kids I work with desperately need because the people they know are less like "family" and more like people they happen to share DNA with. I don't have any happy wrap up or even a "moral of the story." I'm mostly just frustrated and sad. I hate watching these kids have to face something that isn't their fault and makes them hurt so much. I pray they get that "taste of family" every time they interact with my church - the kind of family that loves them and doesn't hurt them and is there for them and doesn't abandon them.

home.

I've been home for just over 24 hours after spending a week or so in Africa and far too long on a plane. I had the chance to go with a group of high school students to Iganga, Uganda at Musana. Musana is a community development organization dedicated to more than just kids, more than just orphans and widows, more than just sustainability.

It's all of that.
It's a dairy farm and a chicken coop.
It's giving dignity back to widows and giving them opportunity to provide for their families.
It's training kids at school to be the best Ugandan citizens and letting them dream about becoming welders, police officers, pilots and statesmen.
It's water and a well for the surrounding community.
It's jobs - teachers, farmers, social workers, accountants - for Ugandans.

I'm still thinking through a lot of what I learned during my time in Uganda, but the memory that stands out to me the most was during our final lunch with the kids at Musana.

This is Emma. I had the chance to hang out with this brilliant 10-year-old much of the week. He wants to be a pilot. When we said our goodbyes, he made me pinkie promise with him that we would never forget each other. I didn't know how to tell him that there's no way I ever could.

Emma lost his dad and brother. Musana is giving him the chance to live out his dreams and learn that there's a God that loves him. He's one of the strongest, smartest kids I think I've ever met. And someday soon - because of the investment of the Ugandan teachers and people at Musana - he's going to change the world.

africa

There's a weird song that I remember growing up hearing in church. It's called "Please Don't Send Me to Africa" and it's really all about telling God exactly what you don't want Him to do in your life. I think. Or maybe I missed the point. Or maybe the song did.

Regardless, I never sang that song.
And I'm going to Africa.

Eleven high school juniors and seniors are going with the youth pastor, an elder at our church and myself to Musana Children's Home. It's not an orphanage. It's a school. It's a safe place for kids. It's training grounds for the next generation of Ugandan citizens. And it's goal is to be self-sustainable by it's farm and cafe.

The students that are going are incredible. Here's a little bit of who they are:

I've had the privilege of leading middle school students with Ana for the last 2 years. She's has a contagious spirit. Our students run up to me excitedly and then say, "Hey! Where's Ana!?!" She's wise beyond her years and a natural at caring for the people around her well.

Last year, Drew asked me to write something for him for a college application. it was one of the easiest things I've ever had to write. Drew leads 8th grade guys - the age where you can see the most diverse size difference at the same age. It doesn't matter to Drew if a student is the last place at the math championship or the star quarterback. He takes time to listen to every kid and really everyone like they matter. Because they do.

Erika is one of the most soft-spoken members of our team. Because of that, when she speaks, people listen. She asks good questions and listens well to the answer. I've had the privilege of watching her lead 6th grade girls. She listens. And she works to know their names because it's important.

I've only known Haley for a few weeks, but what I've seen already in her is her ability to see people for what they are hurting about. She's got a soft spirit and wants to help in any way possible. She feels with you and laughs easily.

Kate has the most energy of anyone I've ever met. She's passionate about caring for her friends, her students, and following hard after Jesus. I've never met someone who's so willing to ask for and then listen to advice. She's the organizer who sees something that needs to get done and finishes it well.

A few years ago I called Kelsea the wrong name. Apparently this happens often and she was gracious enough not to call me out on it. She is one of the strongest and most courageous people I know. She stands unafraid for what she believes in and puts aside what she's going through and feeling to put other people first.

If I could go back and be anyone in high school, I think it would be Joy. She doesn't take herself too seriously. She's good at everything I've ever seen her try. And she's got wisdom about things that I'm just learning. Joy is comfortable in her own skin and knows who she is. Something I wish I had known earlier - and knew better, even now.

I only met Sam a few weeks ago as well, but despite being an excellent basketball player (and probably other things, but again, I just met him) he is humble. He doesn't have to be the center of attention, but lets other people take the lead and supports them well.

At Max's interview, he came in as an alter ego of his and was able to act out a completely separate character for a full half hour interview without even breaking a sweat. He can add humor to anything and has a gift to make people laugh.

Brave. That's the best word I can think of to describe Maddy. She just underwent her second heart surgery and recovered faster than any of the doctors could have predicted. She's found a balance that I think very few people get - knowing when to be strong, and when she needs to ask for help. She's one of the most courageous women I know and her three younger sisters love and look up to her.

Trent does the high jump - in track and in life. I say that because whenever you see the high jump, the jumper is throwing everything they have backwards over a bar. You don't half-do a high jump. You're all in. Everything I've ever seen Trent do, he's all in. Sports, school leadership or leading middle school students - he throws himself at whatever it is and goes for it.








The cost, as you can imagine, is fairly high for a student (and the leaders) to go to Africa. If you want to donate to any of these students (or to those of us who are going as leaders), you can do so here.

Can I also ask you, straight up, just to do something right now?
Would you pray for us?
As we prepare and learn as much as we can about the culture and work at Musana.
As we go that we have safe flights across the world.
As we are there, building relationships and being a help to those who are doing work there already, and not a burden.
As we come back, that every one of us would carry what we learned from Musana and the Ugandans that we meet.

Thanks. We'll keep you updated and bring back pictures, memories, and stories.

home.

It's one day shy of 2 months that I've been an aunt.
Two months since my mom called with the wonderful but also terrifying news that my sister had her baby almost unthinkably early.
Two months of daily visits to the hospital for my sister and brother in law.
Two months of emotional highs and lows.
Two months of doctors, nurses and diagnoses.

Two months that we've seen God work in pretty incredible ways.


Today, Q is home. He got to leave the hospital this last weekend in the arms of his parents.

I've never had one of those moments that all hope was lost and someone prayed and things got better. I'm not sure this is that moment either.

I have experienced people caring and praying and over days, months, weeks or years seen God move and stay faithful to those who love Him and follow Him.

It's not what we expected and it's not the way we thought Q would come into the world, but these last two months, we've been privileged to see God - not in one incredible act, but in daily provision and goodness.

Truly, we can't say thank you enough for your prayers.
And I can't wait until Q is 18 and we show him this blog of baby pictures that went out to the world.

Valentine

I don't hate Valentine's Day the way I used to as a kid.

Elementary school simply meant too much work decorating the paper bag that would become a mailbox for valentines that all said some version of "Hey Valentine! I spent 99cents on this card!"

Middle school and high school meant another year of hoping that this one boy would send me a flower... and watching him send it to someone else instead. *sigh*

College meant the biggest day at the post office ever and waiting with baited breath to get the email that said "You have flowers waiting for you!"

And today?
Today one of my students was clearly trying to hide something behind her back - which could have been anything from a pie to chewed up piece of gum. She said, "Can I ask you something?" I answered, "What's up?" She whipped out a box of chocolates and a coloring page she had colored and written a poem comparing our friendship to Patrick and Spongebob.

Not sure any Valentine I've ever received compares.


Seems like every year people complain about Valentine's Day and someone posts something about having a day to tell people that you love them not being all that bad.

I think I have to agree. In a world that I see parents who forget to pick their kids up from church, siblings who do nothing but criticize, and friends who get in fights and can be downright mean... a day where we remember to tell the people most important to us that they matter and we love them, seems pretty okay.

Q

I'd like to introduce you to Quinton Joseph (also "Q") ... he's my nephew. Arrived on December 27th at 8.45pm at a whopping 2pounds 10ounces, a full 12 weeks early.

Ups and downs. That's the best way to describe what's been going on with Q since he was born. Below are the updates as best as I know. We have been overwhelmed by your support and your prayers. Thanks doesn't seem like enough, but since I'm writing this, possibly from very far from where you are, thanks is what I have. Truly, thank you.
___
January 3rd-4th - the first rough night... infection, brain bleed, pale and not moving like he has been.

January 4th, Noon (mountain) - holding steady and some small improvements! Keep praying that the doctors find out what's wrong. Thanks!

January 4th, 7pm - still stable! he has some color back and is not getting any worse. The doctors are still searching for what's causing infection. More tomorrow... keep praying... and thank you so much for your support so far!

January 5th - Q is still stable. He has a brain bleed. It's moderate, but pray it doesn't get any worse. His heart rate is fluctuating too so pray that also stabilizes. The doctors are still searching for the cause of the infection. Your continued prayers are so appreciated!

January 6th - Mom, Dad and Gram got to hold Q today as he continues to improve. He had a blood transfusion today. He still has a brain bleed, but it hasn't worsened. Words can't say enough how much your prayers and support have meant to my family.

January 10th - Check it out!

 He's still just a tiny boy, but much improved. They did some blood work and tests today on the brain bleed. Hopefully tomorrow they'll have an idea of what's going on with both his blood and in his heart. Q's heart rate is still fluctuating a great deal. He's been on antibiotics and this weekend they'll take him off of them.

We keep praying for his heart to stabilize, his brain bleed to stop, the infection to be gone and for him to keep growing.

Truly, we can't express how much your support and prayers have meant. I'm amazed at the number of people who have been down this road, people who have stepped out of the woodwork to support my sister and brother-in-law, and the incredible way that God has responded.





January 13th -

First skin to skin contact with mom!

This week, prayers are most appreciated for Q's brain. After a scan, doctors found a clot that is causing fluid to back up. The clot needs to go down so the fluid can drain or there are lots of other medical complications that will follow.

Q's heart rate also remains a mystery. It's higher than it should be and they're not sure why.

On the good news front - Q is off of the anti-biotics. He's breathing well and mom and dad have been able to hold him.

And frankly, he's pretty cute. :)




 January 18th - Q's brain scan was today. Good news - no change. Bad news - no change. He still has the blood clot and some fluid. He'll have another scan in 2 weeks. For now, keep praying for his brain and heart. Truly, thank you. We're blown away and humbled by your continued prayers.

 January 20th - Q's head was showing too much growth yesterday. Today there will be another brain scan to see what's going on. It feels like another down, a little bit, but God is good and we trust He's still got this.

January 21st - Q's head is measuring more normally today. It's been nearly a month since this sweet boy came into our lives. That also means it's been nearly a month of high tension, roller coaster emotions, and sleepless nights for my sister and brother-in-law.

Today, would you offer up some prayers for them? For peace... strength... and that they can continue to trust the God that brought them this little boy... the same God who offered up His Son so we can have real life.

As always... thank you for your support, your comments, and your continued prayers. They mean so much to us!

January 25th - Hard to believe this sweet boy is almost a month old! He's been pretty stable with still some trouble breathing. They measure his head every day to make sure it's not growing abnormally, and so far so good. He's up to 3pounds and 8ounces!

Another brain scan on Monday to see how the blood clot is doing.

Q's Prayer (as interpreted by his dad):

Dear Lord, Thank you for this day. Thank you for my health. Thank you for my growth. I can't wait to see my parents tomorrow,but right now I'd really enjoy another tube of milk!

February 15th - Almost 2 months old! Q's not quite ready to go home yet, but getting ready! His brain scans have shown mild improvement. Right now we're praying for him to have enough energy to be able to eat and gain weight consistently. His red blood cell count is down which makes him tire quickly and even eating is a lot of work.

Thanks for your continued prayers and questions. It's meant a lot to my sister, brother in law and parents. Thanks for checking in on Q!