Taking a day off

Today, I'm taking the day off. As in, it's almost 5 and I'm still in my PJs. And I didn't get out of bed until *gasp* noon.

I'm trying to give myself permission to just be, and feel what I need to feel, and do what I need to do, without worrying about whether I'm being productive or am helping my family or meeting goals.

This is such a change of pace from my normal life. And it won't be this way for forever. But I've spent the day playing with Maddy, watching Finding Nemo snuggled up next to her, and reading pregnancy loss forums and articles.

Tonight, we'll have cake for Maddy's birthday. And who knows what else I'll do. Probably cry some. Maybe journal for a bit. (Going through the recent surgery definitely brought up anxiety and fears that surrounded Madelyn's birth. And it was just compounded by Maddy's birthday. So more I need to work through.)

This morning I woke up with a feeling of peace for the first time in weeks. Perhaps it's because last night my hubby and I were able to resolve some conflict. It seems that losing a baby raises a lot more issues than just the baby passing (which is horrible enough on it's own.) I have to deal with physically recuperating, dealing with grief and loss of hopes and dreams, fear over my body, questioning whether we'll ever get pregnant again, dealing with Madelyn's fits (as she knows something is up) . . . as well as concern for the financial side of things as we start to get hospital bills. All that adds stress to a marriage -- making just one more (very important) thing that needs to be sorted out.

Seriously, if I know my hubby and I are on the same page, life is just so much better.  If we are supporting each other in what we need -- it makes all the difference in the world. Sometimes, that's not easy though.

Ok, that's just an update on my day . . . giving myself permission to do nothing except what I want to do, and to let everything else take care of itself -- at least until tomorrow.

Insomnia

So it's 3 am .... And im blogging in bed from my phone. (please forgive me for spelling issues or incorrect punctuation.)

I guess insomnia is going to be part of the new me. At least for a while. As soon as we found out something wasn't right with our pregnancy, sleep has alluded me till the wee hours of the morning. Even when my body is exhausted, my mind isn't ready to give in.

I've been around people for quite a bit today. Maybe i just need more time to process something.

One thing that's been on my brain is the sanctity of life issue. I'm pro-life. And i did not have to choose to abort my baby. But if there was one instance where i can understand it completely, it's in the area of ectopic pregnancy.

I've quasi-joined a forum for people that have had EPs (ectopic pregnancies). Many of them chose to end the pregnancy before rupture. And i can't fault a single one of them.

Tonight i read 2 blogs that felt very strongly that ending a baby's life is murder no matter what. (both were on the subject of whether it was morally ok to end a baby's life in ectopic pregnancy). They trivialize the risk (i felt) of rupture and maternal death.

Maybe because i seem to find myself in the small percent whose tube actually ruptured, i feel different about the risk. i am not a number ... Im not a statistic ... Im a person. A real live girl who has a hubby and a daughter to take care of.

I am more confused than ever about the issue. But my gut cannot feel anything but that women who have ectopics are both victims of a very, very unfortunate circumstance ... the kind that we all pray we never have to be in. In my mind, i just cannot see these women as murderers, (even as my brain tends to agree with the blogs' argument).
They all grieve very deeply for their loss.

And I'd also like to point out that women with a diagnosed ectopic are not given the choice to save their baby's life. It's always ... "Do you want the shot (if it's early enough) or surgery?" Not... "do you want to wAit this out to see if you naturally miscarry before your tube ruptures?"

On a different note, i started a journal for baby O. I haven't written in it (or on here)as i had intended, but its been very busy with Christmas, family and maddy's bday.

A few milestones i hit this week .... Saturday was the first day i woke up and my first thought was something other than "my baby is dead." i haven't cried as often ... But i think that's in part to All the distractions. My crazy, all-consuming emotional turmoil has been replaced by a dead, numb feeling of being in a really bad mood for no reason. My family has been amazing at taking me for whatever mood im in and loving me through it ... Even as my personality has been all over the place, many times in ways that are really not normal to me.

I've craved solitude, quiet and peace without much noise or clutter. Anything that i feel distracts me from thinking about my baby when i feel the need to makes me irritated and upset. I need to learn to listen to my heart more and excuse myself if i need to.

Physically, i am better. This whole thing has thrown my body for a loop with still having pregnancy hormones in me. Today's been the first day the nausea wasnt for more than an hour .... Yesterday, it was pretty miserable. My abdomen is still quite swollen, so most of my clothes dont fit. On christmas eve i was forced to wear maternity pants. Its salt in the wound to look and feel more pregnant now that I've lost the baby, than before when I actually WAS pregnant.

I am getting back to a more normal pace of life .... But still not anywhere near what i was used to doing. Today my body reminded me that i was still recovering when it insisted on a mid afternoon nap.

One last thing .... Im getting past the initial shock of not being pregnant anymore. The day after i "miscarried" (i thought i had passed the baby friday night , only to discover on tuesday that it was ectopic and i needed emergency surgery due to a ruptured tube) .... Anywway, the day after i miscarried, i was at panera and got coffee because i could. I broke down at the coffee table bc i could drink coffee now that i didn't have to take care of a baby in me. It sounds dumb... But getting through the firsts of not being pregnant has been hard.

I think taking down the tree will be hard. I was pregnant and full of life, joy and expectation as i hung the ornaments with maddy. That tree is the last visible reminder of my pregnancy ... Assuming that is, tha my body's swelling has gone down by then. At any rate, it just seems so final.

I guess that's it for now.

Chronicles of the grieving mom

Just so you know, this post might not be for you.

It's not going to be fun. Or fit altogether in this nice, neat little package that makes you feel good inside.

Because right now, nothing in my life feels nice or neat. I either feel totally numb and empty -- or so full of raw emotion that I want to breakdown and cry, or throw something and hurt something, or hurt myself.

I lost my little baby. My sweet, sweet baby that just wanted a place inside of me that was safe to grow. Just a safe and cozy place where she could burrrow down and develop into this amazing little miracle of a person.  Instead of burrowing in my uterus, that was ready and waiting for her, she got cozy in my fallopian tube. 

How I wish I could have willed her little body forward, down into the special place God created her to be for 9 long months!  Instead, we got just a few weeks.

At times today, I wondered if I was the lucky one?  So many people lose their babies -- and no one knows.  I had the emergency surgery. I had family have to take Maddy because I couldn't take care of her.  I got the bedrest, the time to myself, the time to grieve.  I got the flowers, and the dinners at home. I am thankful -- but I also feel like I don't deserve it. So many other moms don't get any extra help, no dinners, no flowers. Few people may even know that they suffered a loss.

On Saturday, the day after I believed I had miscarried, I was so full of grief. I was tired of being around people, so I took an almost 2-hour-long shower at our hotel. All I could think of was, if I'm going through this, other people are too.  How can we break the silence?

I don't normally like to put myself out there like this. To be honest about how much this hurts. To admit that I'm so not in control. But if it could help one other woman . . . I think it's worth it. If I share my grief, and just one more person had help working through her grief, then maybe my baby's short life could make a difference.

To my sweet baby girl, I love you and miss you with all of my heart.

My journey to a decision to adopt from foster care

Ryan and I have recently started classes to adopt from foster care.  For me at least, this journey has been long in coming.

I never had an epiphany, or this one singular moment where I just knew this was the right decision for me and for my family.  Instead, it's been a LONG series of moments, of experiences, of stories that have edged me closer to this decision to adopt.

The first moment that opened my eyes was as an older child. I don't remember how old I was, or even the title of the book, but I remember reading a novel based on a true story of child abuse. I read how this little girl was tied up to a pole outside, kept for hours without food or drink. If she went to the bathroom on herself, she was beaten mercilessly -- but she was never taken in to use the restroom.  The story was told from her perspective -- a sad, demoralized little girl who loved her parents and could never understand why they hurt her so much.

Images from her story have stuck with me ever since.

I remember thinking, even as a child, that I wanted to adopt. I guess in my mind, it has always been a part of my "someday" plan.

Then, in May of last year, I learned about sex trafficking.  Here's how God helped open my eyes . . .

It all started with TLC (Yes, I'm talking about the TV channel!)  I was watching a show on the 2005 tsunami with my husband.  It was one of those things where you wanted to turn it off, and pretend that something this atrocious would never, ever happen.  Yet there's that part of me that just had to watch. As though I owed it to the victims to hear their stories, to validate their painful experiences.  And so I watched . . .

Their was very little dramatization -- just real-life videos and personal testimonies from victims.  One couple from Europe was vacationing in Sri Lanka for Christmas with their 5-year-old daughter.  The wave came in to their hotel room, filling it up.  The woman was holding her daughter, belly-to-belly, with the girl's arms and legs wrapped around her torso.  She held on for everything that she could. But in just one moment, her beloved daughter slipped from her arms, and vanished from the room.  Three days later, they found her body on the beach.

I sobbed as I heard her story. And as the stories progressed, I became angrier at God for allowing such suffering.  Days later, I was still not emotionally recovered from the experience.  At church, I tried to worship God, but my heart held back.  I watched a mother nearby pick up her 5-year-old, belly-to-belly, with the little girl's arms and legs wrapped around her torso. In that moment, my heart screamed to God, "Lord, why would you do this?  Why would you let thousands of children die a horrible death? Why would you rob families of their children?  These children are innocent ... why didn't you DO SOMETHING?!!!  I cannot worship a God who kills children!"

I'll never forget how calm His voice was, even in the midst of my visceral rage.  He spoke quietly, yet pointedly to my heart . . . "Thousands of children are dying every day. They are hurting. And they need someone to help them.  Do not ask my what I am doing, until YOU are doing something, too."

It was as if someone had splashed cold water on my face. (I don't even want to know what someone might have been thinking if they had been watching me during this particular service!)  I was shocked to hear His answer . . . and all I could think of next was, "WHAT?"  What is causing suffering to thousands of children?  What is killing them?  And what could I do?

Within weeks, my brother returned home from Southeast Asia.  He told me about about how houses in regular neighborhoods had little red lights on their doors.  Children would be playing outside . . . young girls ages 8-12, dressed in tee shirts and jeans. If the red light was on, that meant the child outside was for sale.  That was the first in a series of answers to "WHAT?"


I found out about sex-trafficking in the U.S. I found out that children who have already been sexually abused were at high risk for being exploited -- many of whom are from foster care.

I hosted a sex-trafficking awareness night.  But that wasn't enough. I committed a certain percentage of my Arbonne sales, but even still, that doesn't feel like enough.  I lend out the book, "Renting Lacy."  I am HOPING against HOPE to be able to speak at Arbonne's Global Training Conference to thousands of women about sex-trafficking.  I have picked up pictures of prostitutes from the Las Vegas strip, cutting out their faces only and praying over them.  Still, not enough.

Now we are starting foster care with hopes of adoption. I have no idea where this journey will lead us.  I don't know how our children's lives will be changed, and how our lives will be changed.  It isn't as if I'm on this endless search to be able to do "enough."  But when I do have the conversation face-to-face with God one day, I want to be able to say, "I did my part. I tried my best to help. I couldn't help them all.  But I helped at least one."

28-day detox -- more than just a diet

For those of you who don't know, Ryan and I went on a 28-day detox through Arbonne this month. I have been itching to blog about our experience for quite some time.  (After all, it's only been about 5 months since my last post -- time to update!)

So, in case you're wondering how we were detoxing, this is what we did . . .

We cut out all potentially allegenic food, and food that's just plain bad for you, including:

-refined sugar
-Medium- and high-glycemic fruits (we only ate green apples and berries)
-caffeine (other than Arbonne's fizzy tab)
-coffee (AHH!)
-gluten
-wheat
-vinegar
-dairy
-processed foods
-peanuts
-pork (or any pig meat products)
-white rice, or any non-complex carb

We tried to only eat organic fruits, vegies and meats.  In addition, I only purchased organic, hormone-free, free-range and grass-fed meats.

We cut our portion sizes on our plates.  A fist-sized portion of protein, a fist-sized portion of grain, and then we could fill our plates with vegies, salads and leafy greens.

We did Arbonne protein shakes for breakfast and lunch, had an energy fizz tab (natural energy drink), and the get fit chews (yummy choc. chews).  In addition, we did one whole foods snack a day. (my fav was fresh avocado with cilantro, lime juice, tomatoes and salt.)


So why the heck did I even start this crazy diet anyway?

Well, for starters, I wasn't happy with how my body felt.  I know, I know . . . I'm not a huge person.  BUT, I don't think it matters what size you are -- I knew I wasn't healthy, my clothes didn't fit right, and I didn't feel CONFIDENT in my body anymore.  Besides, who wants to feel like they are squeezing into their clothes every day, or feel self-concious?

I wondered if it might help cullulite (big confession there.)  I knew I was addicted to coffee and sugar (and bread). 

Plus, I knew it would be good for our whole family.

Last, but not least . . . you really can't sell a product you don't try.  So many people were loving the products and the system, that I knew I would miss out unless I tried it.  I'm so thankful to my hubby who joined me (sometimes begrudgingly, but he joined me nonetheless) on this journey.  I couldn't have done it without him!

Here are some of the results from our detox journey:

1.  We lost weight.  (I know, big surprise!)  Ryan has lost 12 lbs so far, and I've lost 3. My clothes fit way better, I feel renewed confidence in my body, and I even got new skinny jeans to commemorate my new body.  (I love rocking those jeans!)

2.  I lost my reflux.  With the exception of a few times, I haven't had any reflux in 3 weeks.  (The times I did have it were the times I ate past 7 -- or had a cup of coffee -- things that we're not supposed to do on the diet.)  Before the detox, I was feeling nauseated most days and lots of gross burping at night (sorry, I know that's icky) . . . but I really hated that feeling.  The interested thing is that I lost the reflux naturally by changing my diet.  When I talked to my Dr, he just prescribed medicine and never mentioned changing my diet. 

3.  My stomach shrunk. For some reason, before the detox, I had gotten in the habit of taking seconds -- something we weren't allowed to do on the diet.  Looking back, I never needed the extra food -- it's just that it tasted good.  I think I stretched out my stomach so that I "needed" those seconds to actually feel full.  Now, post-detox, I rarely feel the need to have seconds.  In fact, I've even had a hard time finishing my plate full of veggies sometimes.

4.  I sleep better at night.  Maybe it was all the coffee I was pouring into my system.  (I was a 2-cup-a-day kinda girl.)  But I am actually READY to go to sleep at night now the way I used to be.  The only downside?  I now regularly fall asleep during our late night movie fests.

5.  I SAVOR the flavor of food more.  In the past, fruit was a chore.  I liked eating veggies, but I always ate them with dip, or something fattening.  Given the choice, I wanted bread or sugar, not healthy food.  Now, I am LOVING the flavor of apples, tomatoes, broccoli, you name it.  I hardly crave things like pretzels or potato chips . . . just give me a carton of grape tomatoes or strawberries!  (Confession:  I even like the flavor now of unsweetened chocolate.  Weird . . . I know).  But I still have a craving for chocolate cake . . .

Here's what I learned from my experience:

1.  I WASN'T choosing healthy foods before, even though I thought I was.  The first grocery trip for our diet was quite revealing.  My cart looked totally different than before.  And I spent the majority of my time in the different sections of the grocery store.  I always breezed past the natural and organic section.  But I plan to spend much more time their in the future.  This time, my cart really reflected just a few things:  healthy and organic grains, organic produce and "healthy" meat (which I could really only get at Central).  Oh, and almond milk for me and Ryan (and organic whole milk for Maddy.)

2.  I eat from emotions WAY more than I thought I did.  I've always considered coffee to be a comfort food.  When I'm stressed, coffee makes it better.  When I have to do something I don't want to do, coffee makes it better.  When I'm with a friend or family, coffee makes it better.  If I'm stressed out with Maddy, coffee makes it better.  You get the idea . . .

So, what the heck was I to do when I couldn't have coffee for 4 weeks!?!?  First, I have to say that I did not end up with caffeine withdrawal, thanks to the fizzy tabs.  But emotionally?  That was another matter.  Every day, I wanted a cup of coffee.  Some days more than others.  But not having that as an instant-soother made me kinda confront my emotions in a different way. 

I think that from now on, I'll view coffee as a treat (and always decaf).  But I'll start my day with an energy fizz tab, because I don't get coffee breath with those, they don't give me the jitters, I'm less hungry through the day, and it gives me the energy I need.  So coffee will be an afternoon treat sometimes, and not every day (esp. cause I know now it gives me reflux.)

3.  It matters what I eat.  It matters to my health, to the way I feel, the way I look, and my attitude.

4.  I'm stronger than I gave myself credit for.  Sure, we messed up our diet a few times.  But I've learned to overcome cravings I didn't think I could.  To stick with something, even when other people weren't looking.  I have a new respect for myself.

5.  Because I was giving up things (like vinegar, and non-organic meats), it made me curious WHY I was doing those things.  What's wrong with them anyway?  This lead me on a path to research our foods, and how they are made here in America .(Insert the documentary, Food Inc., which has forever altered the way I think about food.)  Knowledge is power.


Tomorrow is the last day of the diet.  But I truly feel that the way I eat, and treat my body, has really changed for good.  And yes, I'm really looking forward to having a piece of chocolate cake with a cup of (decaf) coffee here soon.

To have a baby -- or not to have a baby?

I've been up since 4:30 am, for no particular reason.  (Not my favorite way to spend a morning!)

Luckily, I had my handy new Droid conveniently placed on my bedside, perfect for way-too-early internet-surfing pleasure.  After checking my FB, disappointed at how few people post between midnight and 4:30, I turned to a website I hadn't visited in awhile:  the preeclampsia foundation.

For those of you who don't know, when I was 37 weeks preggo with Maddy, I developed preeclampsia and HELLP syndrome.  Both are life-threatening diseases and the only cure is delivery of the baby.  To put it nicely, my health was rapidly declining, so they delivered early.  Even though we both recovered and were healthy, I was left very depressed about my birthing experience.

About a year after she was born, I found the preeclampsia foundation's website.  I never expected my healing to come from surfing the internet late one night.  But as I read other women's stories (some whose babies survived, some whose didn't, and some where even the mom died)  and submitted my own story -- I finally felt at peace.

Every once in a while I go back and read the recent stories, perhaps to remind myself what could have been and be grateful for God's hand on me and Maddy.  Today was such an occasion.  But instead of feeling gratitude, I became overwhelmed with fear.

After all, Maddy is almost 2.  And I get a hankering to smell newborn baby head every once in a while (you moms and dads know what I'm talking about.)  And sometimes I think Maddy would be happier with a sibling.

So maybe I do want another baby.  But then again, after today's stories, maybe not.

The first 3 stories I read were these:  Delivered at 24 weeks, baby died.  Delivered around 24 weeks, baby survived (after months in the NICU), mom had severe complications.  Delivered early, baby fine, mom in coma for 4 weeks and barely made it out alive.

Hmm .... newborn baby head doesn't sound quite so appealing anymore.  How could I put myself, and my baby at risk?  What if I die and leave Ryan and Maddy?  What if we lose our baby -- could I live with the loss?

So, for those who like numbers, here they are:

I have a 40-50% chance of developing preeclampsia or some other serious complications with another pregnancy.  I have a 25% chance of  developing HELLP syndrome.  These complications could come at any time during the pregnancy, although USUALLY in the last trimester.

Considering I had a 0.5% chance of developing HELLP with Maddy (and I did) .... 25% sounds astronomical.

For those who don't so much care for numbers -- suffice it to say that I'm terrified of getting pregnant again.  But saddened beyond belief at the prospect of not being able to have another Rachel-Ryan mix to call my own.

No big decision needs to be made today -- but I know we need to decide before we have another "OOPS -- we're pregnant!" on our hands.  Ryan and I already want to adopt .... I had just hoped I could have at least one more of our own babies to add to the family.

(To read my story, go to:
http://www.preeclampsia.org/SeeStory.aspx?id=8217629.  And note that there is a typo:  My liver was about to rupture, not erupt.  Every time I read that I cringe.  If only I could edit that post!!)

A bit of perspective...

Sometimes a new perspective arrives in glimpses.  Other times it's like a big red curtain at a theatre, opening to a new way of looking at life.  And you wonder if you'll be able to ever see the world the same again.

The last few days have been somewhere in between...


Here's how I viewed life before God decided to give me a little perspective:

 If only ....(fill in the blank).  If only I were prettier, had more money, were more successful in Arbonne, were more organized, kept a cleaner home, were a better mom, a better wife.....  If only.


Then I was listening to my station of choice, NPR of course.  They were doing an interview at an orphanage in Afghanistan.  There was a little boy there.  His mom had gone for a walk.  But didn't return home.  She was captured by insurgents  threatening to blow her up.  And a few days later, they did.  They took her to hospital, strapped her to explosives, and used her as a suicide bomber.


Upon hearing the news, the father, who suffered from asthma, had a massive attack triggered by stress, grief, and of course, the Afghan dust.  He was rushed to a hospital -- but it was too late.  He too died ... leaving this traumatized boy to join the thousands and thousands of children whose lives have been forever altered by horrible and unimaginable violence.  He plays well at the orphanage during the day ... but he can't sleep at nights.  He misses his mom and dad -- and the life at home he used to have.


Well, that story was enough to bring tears to my eyes -- but God wasn't quite done.


I was reading Reader's Digest (yes, I still like reading this old peoples' magazine) -- and they had an article on a Holocaust death camp.  The numbers of people who were gassed makes your mind reel.  But one story broke my heart.  A woman was carrying her baby with her on the way to the gas chambers (of course, they didn't realize that's where they were headed.)  In the mass confusion, a woman dropped her baby.  She stopped to pick up her child, but the guards were on it.  The started beating her.  She cried, and asked if she could please pick up her baby.  They said, "We'll take care of your baby."  And they picked up the child, and threw the baby into a nearby fire.  


"OK, God, I think this is enough heartbreak. I get it...."  But he wasn't done yet.


I read a story of a toddler who was in foster care.  His mom was a drug addict, and her boyfriend, extremely abusive.  He was found wandering around in a parking lot with his 5 siblings, teeth cracked and broken by a recent beating.  Just another unwanted child.


Last night, I couldn't sleep.  Not cause I wasn't tired -- but because I was thinking about all the kidnapped girls that had been trafficked for sex.  These are girls are so precious to God -- yet are used, abused, raped, tortured and sometimes killed.  While I lay peacefully in my bed ... they were in stranger's beds, servicing up to 20 men a night.  Not because they want to or because they like it.  Because someone decided they had no rights, no future, nothing to offer but a PROFIT.  So many lives absolutely ruined.  


Not only are they victims ... they are misunderstood.  When I talk to people about sex trafficking, most don't want to hear about it.  "That doesn't happen here, so why should I know about it?"  Um... yes it does happen ... to at least 100,000 children every year in America.  "Sex trafficking -- honey I'm too old to hear about stuff like that."  "I'm too busy ..."  "That only happens to kids who are raised wrong."  I've heard it all.


By this time last night (or should I say early this morning) -- I was tired of hearing all the bad news.  I wanted to just close my eyes to the pain, grief and despair plaguing the least of these.  But there was still more....


Today at church, we had a missionary from Asia preach.  He told a story. .. "One of the missionaries on our team felt called to the river Ganges to preach to the Muslims gathered there.  To cleanse themselves of sin, they wash themselves in the sordid, smelly waters of waste.  As the missionary approached the waters, he saw a woman on her face, pounding the ground and wailing. From her weeping, he knew her pain had to be great.  


"'Mother,' he asked, 'Your pain must be great.  Please tell me what is wrong, and perhaps I can help.'  She told him that her husband had TB and could not work.  She did not know how to feed her family.  She thought that maybe if she offered her most precious sacrifice, the gods might have mercy and provide for her family. '30 minutes ago, I threw my 6 month son into the river,' she confessed through her sobs.  He wept with her ... and told her that God had already sacrificed his son so that her sins would be forgiven. 'Where were you 30 minutes ago?' she cried. 'If I had only known, then my son would be alive and with me.'  She went home weeping."


Even as I write this, tears stream down my face.  I cannot fathom the despair and hopelessness that would cause a mother to sacrifice her own child.


So where does this new perspective leave me?  


I'm still trying to figure that out.  For starters, I know that I can't do anymore of the "if only...."  God has spared my life from so much grief, trauma, loss, violence and hopelessness.  He has provided AMPLY for my needs.  I have ALWAYS had enough food, known I was loved, loved Christ since I was a child, grew up knowing I would go to heaven, have a wonderful, safe and healthy family.


My gratitude is so great right now.  But that is not enough.  The grief, the pain, the loss HAS to be addressed.  Somehow sending a check to missionaries and ministries isn't enough.  Sure, it's something.  But I feel God calling me to do something more.


But WHAT? is the question I'm faced with.  Pray more? Support more missionaries?  Become a foster parent?  Adopt from orphanages?  Become an advocate for sex-trafficking victims?  

I also feel incredible anger.  Anger that people will do such horrible things to each other.  Anger that Satan causes such evil and despair -- and yet we Christians often just think of him as just a mere pest.  Anger at myself, for being so spoiled and self-absorbed.  Anger at Americans in general -- we're so wrapped up in the newest, greatest, best.  In getting stuff for ME. Tell me this isn't wrong -- American's spend more on dog food than we do on foreign missions.

Lord -- may I forever be grateful for you blessings.  May I realize that I am not exempt from pain -- one day I will lose those close to me.  I will experience suffering.  In those times, may I still bring glory to you.  And until that day comes, may I praise you every day for the lives and health of those I love.  

Please show me what you want me to do with all this new perspective.  Lead me and Ryan in your way.  Show us how to invest in your kingdom.  If you want us to be foster parents, or to adopt, please prepare us, lead us, and provide the children whose lives we can lead to you.

And I pray for everyone who reads this post -- that you would touch their hearts.  Perhaps you will change their perspective too.  Perhaps you will bring their hearts closer to yours, just as you've done mine.  

In all things, I ask for your will to be done.  And for the glory to go to Christ alone.

Amen.