to those who support New York's latest law...

I was 23 years old when I drove her to the clinic.

Naive.  Two feet deep in the world. 

But my friend had made her decision and she needed me to love her.

I sat in the quiet waiting room and flipped through magazines.

I did not make eye contact with anyone.

And when she was done, I drove her all the way home.

I made sure she was settled and left.

She wanted to rest and be alone.

Those are the only details I remember about that day.

I know we never spoke of it.

But after 16 years, I reflect back and realize all the ways I failed her.

I do not dare imagine how she was feeling.

Or what led her to make the decision she did. 

I do not dare imagine how she still feels about that decision.

I can tell you I have grown a lot in the years since that day.

My walk with Jesus has transformed the way I see the world.

After trying for so many years to have another baby and suffering a miscarriage, I can tell you this.

When we found out we were expecting my son, we had an ultrasound.

I was five weeks and 4 days pregnant.

In other words, my monthly visitor was only one week late from her arrival.

But what we saw on the screen was undeniable.

At only five weeks, 4 days pregnant, his heart was beating inside of me.

Clearly.

And I remember sobbing on that exam table.

Sobbing for the loss of the baby we did not get to meet.

And hurting for all the babies who were loss or discarded.

I can not fathom how anyone does not understand that life begins at conception.

Another beating heart inside of a mother's womb. 

A child that deserves a chance at life in this world.

I get it.

Motherhood is a scary place.

And not every woman is cut out for it.

But somewhere in this world, there is a woman who is praying and hoping and crying with every fiber of her being that her arms will someday hold a baby of her own.

They are the ones who will gladly meet you at the hospital and give your baby a forever home.

They are the ones who will go to all the doctor appointments with you.

They will hold your hand as you push life into this world.

And they will hug you tightly and whisper thank you.

Their very own hearts would be filled with gratitude to you.

For your courageous decision to give life.

I understand this may not have been your decision.

To get pregnant.

Perhaps it was an accident.

Or a mistake.

Or a tragic consequence to some horrendous act that happened to you.

My heart aches for you.

The ways of this world are evil.

By the time you discover you are expecting, there is another life already beating within you.

That tiny heart beating inside of your womb is innocent.

Completely innocent.

And knit together so perfectly.

The intricate details with which we are all formed begs us to acknowledge the Creator.

The very One who creates us all in His perfect image.

Each tiny heartbeat deserves a chance in this world.

Because each one was designed on purpose for a purpose.

The Creator makes no mistakes. 

Not one.

I cannot imagine the decisions you are faced with during an unexpected pregnancy.

I do not dare guess the emotions that consume you.

Nor do I judge your decisions.

We are all faced with seemingly impossible decisions.

Decisions that have the ability to change the entire course of our lives.

Decisions that will haunt us.

Decisions that will follow us.

Decisions that will grow us.

I decided to drive my friend to that clinic all those years ago.

That would not be my decision today.

But I still love her.

And I admire all the ways she has succeeded and grown.

We do not have to agree with the decisions of others.

In fact, we rarely will.

Especially when their decisions are so far different from ours.

Decisions are tough.

But choosing life is brave.

Fiercely brave. 

And we need more brave warriors in this world. 

Who knows, that tiny heartbeat could just be the warrior we all need.

to bonnie, with bunches and bunches of love

It was the summer of 1998.  I had just returned from my freshman year at Clemson.  I had switched my major to early childhood education and thought it would be a good idea to get a job at a local daycare.  I walked in and applied at Amerson's Daycare, right down the road from my neighborhood.  The owner hired me on the spot.  

On my first day of work, I instantly fell in love with one of the teachers.  When she asked me where I got the cute sundress I was wearing, I told her Family Dollar. To which she replied, "You are one cool girl.  Like my people."  

We spent several lunch breaks making trips to Family Dollar and Burger King in her big dinosaur of a car.  She invited me over to her house on occasion.  It wasn't until some time later in the summer that I learned she was the aunt to my high school crush.  I liked to died right there on the kitchen floor of the daycare, right beside the sticky high chairs, when she told me he was on his way to visit her at work.  

I'll never forget her laugh as I primped in the tiny little bathroom.  

We had fun that summer.  And the Christmas break that followed.  And the following summer. 

I would visit her at her house when I was in town for a visit.  She left a big Bonnie-shaped impression on my 19-year old heart.  

It would be six years until we saw each other again.  Only this time, I was dating her nephew.  I'll never forget the night he took me home to meet her.  She and I sat on the couch for hours laughing about those days we worked together at the daycare.   She welcomed me into the family with loving arms.  

While she never birthed a baby, she had more children than her arms could hold.  And she loved them all the same.  But perhaps the most beautiful love to watch was the love she had for her family.  After I became a mama, I learned quickly that there was no point in telling her not to give them cookies or cake or soft drinks.  She was going to do what she darn well pleased and don't tell her any different.  Bonnie had a way of spoiling our children rotten.  From notes of encouragement to Dollar General trips, she invested in their lives and made a lasting impression in their hearts.  

The weight of her passing is heavy.  And will be felt for as long as we draw breath.  Our family is better because of her and we will forever cherish the memories we have of Bonnie.  My only hope is to leave a legacy of love like you have in the hearts of my family.

We love you bunches and bunches, Bonnie!

when it's time to walk away...

There are things of this world that my heart will never comprehend. And I will never understand how a humble, kind, loving person can be tossed out.

With no reason or warning.

It makes no sense to me.

But then again, little does in the corporate world.

Years ago, when I was struggling with life, a sweet soul entered my world.

She was a ray of sunshine covered in grace.

And she made coming to work easy.

She led with humility, compassion, love and mercy.

She never looked for recognition or accolades. 

She just wanted to come to work each day and do good work.

I learned a lot from her. She is quite possibly the single most influential person in my career. But she inspires me far beyond the walls of work.

Leadership is both a privilege and responsibility. There are some that do not see it that way.  Some leaders are in it for fame, fortune and personal gain. Some leaders stunt the growth of others.

She isn’t like most.  She is set apart.


It is rare in corporate America to meet someone who leads like Jesus. Leaders who can make their employees feel valued are worth gold.  She was the gardener-type leader.  The kind that would kneel down, roll up her sleeves, get her hands dirty and tend to the soul in order for you to grow and flourish and thrive.  

A light went dark the day she walked out of the building.

And a little piece of all our hearts broke.

Now that we are months past that awful day, I can see the work of God all over the situation.  Sometimes the unimaginable occurs so we will lean closer into Him. I spent months listening for His voice.  Direction on where He was leading me. Courage to follow even though change is unnerving. Uncertainly and anxiety wrapped around me like a heavy coat. Until a divine appointment covered me with peace and clarity.

Yesterday, after almost nine years, I walked out of that building for the last time. As that place grew smaller in the rear view mirror, I was overwhelmed.  It was hard and freeing, happy and sad, spring and winter.  All at the same time.

But, it was my time.  Time for a new beginning.  Time for healing. Time for serenity. For there are things that cannot be changed and wisdom comes in knowing when to walk away.

There is only One who makes a way in the wilderness. Streams in a wasteland. He is doing a new thing.  And I am watching with eager anticipation as it all unfolds.

He works it for good, my friends.

I rest in that truth. 

He works it for good.

And so much good awaits.

Sometimes, we just have to sit with Him awhile in the wasteland.

But rest assured, He is working for your good.

All the crummy, hard, dark days will be worked for your good and His glory.

If only we watch and wait and have faith….

Just you watch and see.

going home...

It was only supposed to be fifteen days.
Those fifteen days stretched into twelve weeks.
That turned into seven months.

Time has a funny way of showing you Who's the boss.



When we listed our house for sale in February 2017, we had a plan.
A plan that would provide one extra bedroom for our family of five.
It was a good plan.
One with a contractor and everything.
But, it took six months for our house to sell.
And our good plan withered.
So, we needed a new plan.


First, we looked at some condos.
Maybe our plan would be to build.
I left the tiny condos with anxiety and hives.
I needed more than a maybe.


We looked at some houses.
Seven to be exact.
We found one that seemed perfect.
I even dreamed about it for a week.
Right down to where I would put the Christmas tree.
Plan B was born.
And it was a good plan.
One with the same contractor and everything.


And so began the process of buying a house.
There were two weeks in between the close of the house we were selling and the one we were buying.
We had an agreement in our contract to move all of our life's contents into the house until we could officially move in.
On Wednesday, August 23, all of that changed.
Sitting in the comfort of my parents' kitchen, as our dream unraveled, I wept.
It was a hard loss.
But, we still had to move out of our house.
So, I pulled myself up from that kitchen table and went to work finding a storage unit that would hold our life.
Four days later, on that early Saturday morning, our family and friends showed up and we emptied nine years worth of stuff.
As the last load was being hauled away, I sat in the stillness and remembered it all. 

If those walls could talk.




We made our way to my parents' house.
Sweaty, emotional and weary.
Without a plan.
Which isn't at all like me.
But I needed a minute.
My heart wasn't ready to make a plan.
It was still so very tender from the devastating loss.
I did the only thing I knew to do.
I prayed.
And prayed.
And prayed some more.


Two weeks later, we ran into a friend from church at a Clemson football game.
Standing in line for ice cream, she asked how the move was going.
My teary eyes were covered by sunglasses.
She introduced me to her friend.
Who just so happened to be selling her house without a real estate agent.
She had some investors coming to look at it, but if it didn't work out, she told me we were more than welcome to come by.
We really didn't give it another thought.
Until the very next week, when we were contacted about our potential interest in the house.
We made an appointment to go see the house.
It was just the size we needed.
But it needed some work.
The peace that covered us led us to believe this was God's plan for us.
We made an offer.
They accepted.
And so, Plan C was born.
It, too, was a good plan.
One with the very same contractor.
Paint and flooring were picked out.
Appliances were purchased.
I even started a Pinterest board, for crying out loud.
Closing was set for the Monday after Thanksgiving.
We arrived at the attorney's office giddy with anticipation of finally being homeowners again.
Until, we got a shocking phone call.
And again, we watched everything unravel.
Birthday parties by the pool and family dinners around the large dining room table were nothing more than wishes and dreams.


I quit praying.


Truth be told, I cocooned myself with despair and allowed darkness to swallow me whole.
I wallowed in self-pity and questioned God.
For I was certain we had heard Him.
Why would He allow this to happen again?
Didn't we deserve a house?
Hadn't we been through enough in the past five years?
Why us?


One night, during supper, my little girl asked if Kringle was lost.
Kringle is her elf.
And he always arrives on Thanksgiving night.
It was December 7th.
I sat at my parents' kitchen table and just bawled my eyes out.
Christmas was coming.  Our stockings were packed away.  And I had no idea where the darn elf was hiding.
The next day, I arrived home from work only to find three perfect stockings hanging on my parents' mantle and a complete mess made by Kringle.
He left a note for Harper.
He told her that he had trouble finding her since she was living with her Gigi and Papa for now.
Big sisters have a way of covering you in grace.
And always at just the right time. 


With an upcoming surgery planned and the holidays quickly approaching, we decided to put our search on hold until the first of the year.  We looked at what felt like 259 houses.  In January.
Until February 7.
I sat in a drive way waiting on our realtor.
It was a rainy Wednesday evening and I prayed hard as I waited.
I asked for God to make it known if this was the home for us. To cover us in perfect peace.
To make the process smooth and seamless.
The moment we walked through the door I could feel it.
It hung thick in the air.
Like I could reach out and take hold.


Home.


I could hear little feet running through the rooms.
I could smell supper on the stove.
I could taste that first morning coffee sipped from that perfect spot in den.
I could see the Christmas tree.
I could feel the warm sheets as they came out of the dryer.


It was clear that this was His plan.
And that made it perfect.


While the wait has been long and hard, I have learned a lot about God.
About patience and faith.
About waiting and praying.
About obedience and blessing.
About discernment and discipline.




Today, we became homeowners again.
The key felt like gold in our hands.

As we pulled into the driveway of our new home, all the emotions flooded my weary soul.
Crossing the threshold, my heart welcomed the Spirit to reside within these walls.  To take up residence and allow our home to be a beacon of light for all those who enter.  I offered the place we had waited so long for back to Him.  The Giver of all things good.

And you know what happened?





I could almost hear Him say what my heart has longed to hear.




Welcome home.

bidding farewell to 2017...

I haven't come here in a while.

Truth is, I haven't had much to say.

Words can be impossible to catch when life keeps throwing curve balls.

And with each curve ball, I found myself withdrawing more and more.

One would think that during the most confusing of times they would find themselves clinging tighter to Jesus.

That would not be true for me.

In fact, it seems I have loosened my grip of Him for the past couple of months.

Don't worry.

It's not a secret.

He already knows.

Seems the only one who wasn't aware was yours truly.  

This year was met with so much disappointment and heartache.  It seems as if the hits just kept on coming.  And with each devastating blow, I retreated further behind a facade of faith and assurance.

With my lips, I would proclaim His promises. But with my heart, I doubted His goodness and wallowed in my weariness.

I scrolled my newsfeed and longed for the perfection I saw in the posted pictures. I questioned why things seem to come so easily for others and why everything seems to be an uphill struggle for my family.  

For the past couple of weeks, He and I have spent copious amounts of time talking.  

He has gently reminded me that He is constant.  He is immovable and unrelenting in His pursuit of me.

Like the understanding Father He is, He reminds me over and over again that it is okay to not understand the path we are on.  That is perfectly acceptable to be upset with how things have gone.  But He only gives good gifts and He wants the absolute best for our family.

So, we are ending this year and leaving it in the past.  We are believing His promises for our family in 2018.  Fully and firmly.

Things may not go as we plan.  And we may sense His peace over our decisions only to have them unravel right before our eyes.  But we will continue to trust and love Him.  

This year, I want to practice presence over perfect.  I long to be in His presence.  Bind my wandering heart, Lord.  Take and seal it.  

  

13 months...

Here's the deal, Bud.

I've failed you so many times in the past 13 months.  I lost count.

I feel this overwhelming desire to do exactly for you the way I did with your sister.

I kept up with her baby book.

You don't have one.

Like clock work, I would post a blog about her each month.  Or write sweet memories for her to reflect on one day.  I can barely remember when the 19th of each month rolls around.

Let alone to write sweet memories for you to reflect on one day.

It's different the second go round.  And I suspect all the mamas know exactly how I'm feeling.

You don't have my undivided attention.  But you do have my whole heart.  Just like your brother and sister have my whole heart.

Time is moving faster these days.  It makes no sense how that happens.  I will never be able to understand it.  Because most of the time, I am holding on for dear life and praying we don't spin off into orbit. 

Since your birthday, you are walking better.  Almost running, really.  And you are talking more and more.  It's genetic, I fear.  You eat everything except mandarin oranges.  That is the only food you have literally spit out of your mouth.  Everything else is free game.  You are drinking from a sippy cup.  But, you still snuggle deep in my lap and have your night time bottle.  I cherish these sweet moments.  I breathe deep of the top of your head and instantly I am intoxicated with the aroma of unconditional love.  I suspect I will always remember the way you smelled fresh from the bath and ready for bed.  

You are still such a great sleeper and you wake up so happy.  Contrary to what your daddy will say, you get that from me.  With one exception, I need a cup of coffee before I grin in the mornings.  

We are still living with Gigi and Papa.  Every day, when we pull in the driveway, you start whispering Papa's name.  You just love to walk right up to his recliner and play with his feet.  But goodness sake, you are in to everything.  And if we tell you no, you just do it anyway.  So far, you have broken the blinds in the kitchen, thrown away your sister's iPod, ripped to shreds almost an entire pack of napkins, chewed on the kitchen sink drain, torn up all the Southern Living magazines, poured water all over the kitchen floor, dumped the toaster onto the floor, dug trash out of the can, and climbed atop the fireplace like you conquered Everest.  

You have the sweetest personality.  Your four-tooth grin melts hearts, that's for sure.  You give the sweetest hugs and blow kisses.  

You are wearing a size 6 diaper and 24 month clothes.  You wear a size 5 shoe, which you can't stand.  You would rather be bare-footed.  I break a sweat every morning trying to get shoes on you.  And now that it is colder, I can't just forget it and send you bare-footed to school.  

You love to take a bath.  And you love to play with your train or any round object that resembles a ball.  You seem to use your left hand more, but only time will tell which will be your dominate hand.  

One thing is for sure, as many times as I have failed you, I have told you 'I Love You' so much more.  You are such a delight and I will never get over how blessed I am to be your mama.  

You are such a thrill, sweet boy!

getting your praise on during sunday school

first kisses!

clearly, you were OVER the fall festival at Carver!

when your teacher gives you her chocolate pudding...

a full trip around the sun...

here we are.

a year later and it all seems like yesterday.

you have made a full trip around the sun.

bringing us more joy than we could have ever imagined.

we celebrated your birthday this past Sunday.  you were such a trooper despite your double ear infection and fever.  i had taken you to urgent care that morning because you ran a fever all weekend.  late Saturday afternoon, you started tugging on your ears and we knew.  it was time for your first trip to the doctor for a sick visit.  

you were celebrated by our family and friends that are like family.  it was a wonderful day full of laughter and love.  but when it was over, you nonchalantly walked right over to the steps under the garage.  carefully navigated up the platform and sat down at the back door staring at all the guests.  you had this expression like 'okay, party's over.  you can leave now.'  your cheeks were flushed with fever and you were ready to go back to napping.  it was pitiful and precious, all at the same time.

you tip the scales at 30 pounds and you are wearing a solid size 24 month clothes.

because you have started walking, i took you to stride rite and had your foot measured.

you are wearing a size 5 shoe.  although, you can't stand to put anything on your feet. you curl your toes and kick your legs when we try to put them on those chubby feet.  

you have four teeth.  the bottom two and top two are now fully in.  and i must admit, however cute it is, you look older with teeth and it makes my heart hurt a little bit.  you had transitioned to more table food and you are down to two bottles a day.  you drink whole milk and water throughout the day.  i cherish those morning and evening bottles because those are about the only times you will sit quiet still in my lap and just let me kiss you and smell the top of your head.

you are into EVERYTHING.  you open and close cabinet doors with a fierceness.  and you can bang on a window until i am sure it will break.  we are still living with Gigi and Papa for now while we look for a house.  and i am always scared that you are going to break something really valuable.  i'm counting the fact that i have to follow you all around the house as exercise.  don't ever tell me different, okay?

you are a great sleeper.   although, you still prefer to sleep in the rock n' play.  you really look a bit like buddy the elf in that thing.  your feet hang out and your arms dangle off.  we have tried you in the big bed, but there isn't room for all of us.  we bought you a cot like the one you sleep on at school.  you slept on it for about three hours and then sat straight up and wouldn't lay back down on it.  but the minute we put you in the rock n' play it is lights out for you until morning.  it is the wildest thing!  i keep reminding myself that you won't actually leave for college still sleeping in it.  by the time we do find a house, you will be in a straight up big boy bed.  

bud, never forget that you came at just the right time and have completed us all in a way we never knew you could.  your smile is contagious.  your joy is infectious.  and we are better because of you.  you delight us.  always remember you are lavishly loved!

happy birthday, my boy!  

11 months...

bud, i am going to start by asking for a little bit of grace from you. 30 years from now, I want you to know the season we are in right this moment and why I couldn't find the time to blog about your 11th month. I can't even find the laptop right now. We are packing up the house to move in 11 days and life is just a wee bit chaotic at the moment. 

but I want you to know that this past month has been on of the sweetest with you. we vacationed at the beach and you are NOT a fan of the sand or ocean. you are a fan of the pool. 

you are pulling up on everything and cruising while holding on to something -- a hand, a table, some sort of security. but I know it won't be long before you off to conquer the world one little step at a time. 

I'm struggling that this is your 11th month post. Will it be weird to say you are 63 months old down the road? just asking.

You are down to one bottle a day. You drink the rest from the sippy cup. We have slowly started introducing whole milk with your formula and you love it. You are eating more and still haven't found anything that you don't like.

You love to give kisses and play peek-a-boo. You are mesmerized by Family Feud and we try to watch every night. You loathe your rocking horse. Possibly the worse thing I've ever purchased. But I get so tickled to see you flail and scream when I try to get you to play on it. 

You are LOUD. and I mean, really loud. You like to be heard. Yesterday in Lowe's, you made sure EVERYONE knew you were there. You aren't crying. You truly are shrieking with delight. But in a family of talkers, it's no wonder because you have to be loud to be heard. 

You are into everything. And you are still one more Nosy Joe. 

They moved you up to the toddler room this past week. I don't like how that sounds. So I renamed the room Baby II. It has a nice ring to it, don't you think? And they even have you sleeping on a cot. A COT! Don't ask me how. They know magic, I'm sure of it.

Bud, you are plain awesome. And you are lavishly loved by us all. You are Mama's baby boy! I make sure I tell you that all the time, lest you forget. We are tickled by you!

10 months...

how are you 10 months already?!!
you need to slow your roll, man.

it has been a whirl-wind of a month.  we have traveled near and far for your bubby's legion baseball games.  and you love to watch him.  your face lights up when you see him.  i can't wait to see him teach you how to play baseball.

your bottom two teeth have finally broken through.  i was beginning to think that would never happen.  and man alive, you were one more cranky dude for a few days.  whew!  we survived, though.

we tried introducing a sippy cup, but you want absolutely NOTHING to do with that.  you barely want to hold your own bottle.  you would much prefer someone feed you.  honestly, i am totally cool with it. 

you are crawling all over the place.  and pulling up.  you will let go with one hand and occasionally we will catch you not holding on at all.  when i see that, i have the biggest urge to push you to your bottom.  i'm not ready!  can't you stay little forever?!!

you are holding steady wearing size 18-24 month clothes and a size 5 diaper.  you wear a size 3 shoe.  although, you can not stand shoes!  you would rather be barefooted.  Gigi reminded me that children in third-world countries learn to walk barefooted all the time (she heard that from the doctor she used to work with) and that it was actually better for you to learn to walk bare-footed. 

you are eating three "meals" a day with a few snacks in between.  you love yogurt melts and teething cookies!  you have started eating chunky food {barf!} and the ones with meat literally smell like it!  i just can't {gag!} feed it to you.  instead, i send it to daycare and it is your lunch.  {giggle}

you are saying "bye-bye".  we are trying to teach you to wave, but you haven't quite mastered that skill.  you love to play "peek-a-boo".  you will cover the side of your face when we do it and smile

so big. 

you are such a happy, content baby.  and we are beyond blessed to call you ours.  stay sweet, baby boy!  and always know just how much your mama loves you....

nine months...

eighteen months of knowing you.
only nine months of seeing you face to face. 
but in so many ways, it feels like you have been a part of this family forever.

I'm a sucker for that smile, bud!

you have the sweetest disposition.  you are easy-going and happy almost all of the time.
and unlike the rest of the family, not including your mama, you wake up with a smile on your face.
most mornings, you wake up talking and smiling; completely content to just be.

you have your nine month check up on Thursday, but based on the last time we weighed you at home, you tip the scales at a whooping 26.8 pounds.  have mercy.  it's a wonder my back doesn't hurt from toting you around.  in case you want to see the progression your growth, check out the picture below.  i told your daddy tonight that from the size of you now, it looks like that was what was in my belly when i was 9 months pregnant.  bless.  one of us is getting bigger.  the other is trying to get a wee bit smaller.  one of us is winning.  the other, not so much!

you have a very healthy diet to match your insatiable appetite.  though, i do have confession.  i stopped making your baby food somewhere around the seven and half month mark.  not that you have noticed.  you are gobbling up everything we try.  even the food with meat {gag me now!}.  you drink four or five 8 ounce bottles a day. 

you are wearing a size four diaper and size 18-24 month clothes.  although, i just purchased some 2T cotton shorts and they seem to fit you perfectly.  they actually hit your knees and don't look like daisy dukes or get caught in the crevices of your thighs.  one day you may be slightly embarrassed that i actually published that for the whole world to see, but you will live, my lump of sugar. 

it took you forever to get that belly off the ground and start crawling, but you have been crawling all over the place for the past two weeks.  but almost simultaneously, you have started pulling up to your knees.  i have a sneaking suspicion that you will be standing and walking before we know it. 

you clap your hands with such delight that i can't help but laugh.  you fill our days with so much joy.  it is hard to remember life before you.  you are loved by so many, but most of all by me.  you are a mama's boy!  and i couldn't be happier.  just tonight, daddy stuck his arms to get you and you buried your head in my shoulder and shook your head. 

griggs michael, you are a treasure!   we love you beyond compare...

the out-takes