Anna Gets Surgery for Christmas

Before we discuss the big "s" word, let's talk about another one: survive. The mister and I survived the Christmas week, which was filled with a plague-like virus. If you follow me on Facebook, you've read my post after whiny post about the HORROR of this virus that leached on to Anna, Louisa, and myself. By the day after Christmas, the Yourees had experienced excessive amounts of snot, two rounds of antibiotics, more diarrhea than I even care to mention, and vomit. Please come quickly, new year.

Yet, we've got a different sort of medical issue to tackle on Monday. That spunky gal of mine, Anna Zane, is all set for surgery on Monday morning. Her tonsils and adenoids have got to go. Although, I will miss that look of shock each time a doctor looks down her throat -- almost jumping back in amazement. "Her tonsils are huge!"

Yes, we know. Now is the time to have them removed. To be honest, we are not totally sure what we are in for. We've heard from the doctor that the recovery can be intense and long. Bryan stocked the fridge and freezer with all sorts of hot and cold liquids. We've got new movies and crafts and books. Here's to hoping she handles it well! Here's to hoping I handle it well -- hahaha.

The surgery has already been bumped from 7:00 a.m. to 12:10 p.m. AGH! Tomorrow we will make it, but we'd love for you to pray for Anna in the afternoon and the following days. Adios, tonsils!

If Lou Had Been a Boy . . .

In a previous post, I discussed the baby names that did not make the cut. We also had a third girl's name. Louisa Bryn Caroline was almost Zella Ruth Caroline. Zella was my paternal grandmother; Ruth was Bryan's paternal grandmother's middle name. Ruth too was my maternal grandmother's middle name. It was a grandmotherly fit. But in the end, that sweet girl looked like a Louisa. We knew that was her name the moment we knew she was ours.

When we announced our pursuit of a second child, we fielded a few questions here and there about the gender. Would we go for a boy because we already had a girl? For whatever reason, most who asked were surprised when we said no. In fact, while we were open to welcoming a boy into our family, we really wanted a girl . . . for no explainable, logical reasons other than we just felt like girls were meant to be our kiddos.

A friend of mine and former Fort Worth Moms Blog contributor wrote an excellent piece about our culture's obsession with having balanced genders in a family, "one of each," and still a belief that a "father needs a son." Certainly, in the adoption world that sentiment is less true because the root issue of genetics is taken out of the equation. You should give the article a read; it's interesting and makes a good point.

But I digress.

If God had given the Yourees a boy, this would have been his name: Silas Baker Joseph Youree.

Silas: When we were dating, Bryan cited his paternal grandfather (Forest Eugene) and his maternal grandmother (Betty Zane) as the two greatest influences in his life. As you likely know, our eldest daughter is named Anna Zane. So, for a boy's name we chose Silas. You know how Matthew and Levi are the same name? Well, Forest and Silas are the same name. Silas would be in honor of Papa Youree as we like to call him.

Baker: Baker was my mother's maiden name, the surname of her father Paul Albert Baker. Because he passed before I was born, he's always been mysterious to me. I've noted that no one in my family really ever had anything negative of consequence to say about him. Actually, quite the opposite; apparently to know him was to love him. And I'm sorry I never did. So, for me, the name means being a man of integrity, of empathy, of strength. It means all the qualities I imagine Papaw Baker possessing, all the qualities I hope he possessed.

Joseph: This is a family name from Bryan's side. Rumor has it Bryan was almost named Joseph. Thus, adding Joseph to the mix honors his father's dreams and family heritage. Joseph is also a nod to my dad, who's middle name was Joe. His initials were B. J. This little boy's initials would have been S. B. J. The name Joseph was for our dads.

But it doesn't look like Silas Baker Joseph will join our family . . . yet. (Hahahaha. Just kidding there, Bryan. Please don't faint.) I suppose, though, never say never.

Lots About Louisa #2

I couldn't wait to write this post.

Louisa's procedure went well last week. (Although she was not a fan of recovery.) Thank you from the bottom of our hearts for the well wishes, prayers, and concern. Today the follow up visit with the urologist confirmed her bladder functions perfectly. This news makes us more and more hopeful that a tethered spinal cord --and the subsequent surgery -- is not a reality for Lou. The appointment with the neurosurgeon is next week. While we anticipate him wanting to follow Louisa for a few more months or years -- and even the possibility of another MRI -- we are optimistic he agree these positive test results point to a healthy spinal cord.

Now enough of this medical jargon. Let's talk about that cutie Lou Lou.

This big girl is ONE YEARS OLD! How in the world that is true I have zero idea. I so remember in the first days of her little life, when the feedings were 'round the clock, wondering how quickly November 17 would come, how quickly she would change and grow because even then in the midst of the exhausting newborn days I knew it was but a wisp of time. As all mothers know, my heart rejoices in healthy growth and the fun of discovering more about her, but it aches knowing this leads to independence . . . . more and more away from mom. (Sniff. Boo hoo. Wawawawah.)

We celebrated Louisa's first birthday in a feast-ly fashion. Because Bryan worked Thanksgiving, we combined the two festivities into a Thankful for Louisa party. Thirty family and friends squeezed into our house to dine on turkey, ham, and fixin's (mostly prepared by my husband; be jealous) and to love on our little lady. We thought she'd be a little timid or overwhelmed because strangers and crowds are not her thing, but Louisa did so well! I mean she totally knew it was her party, right? 

When it was time for the ceremonial first birthday cupcake, Louisa was such a delicate gal. (Shout out to big sis helping blow out the candle.) I had to help her at first with a nibble of icing -- and it was a hit. Instead of making a mess, she very gently grabbed a bite between her thumb and index finger until she ate the entire cupcake.

Big sister also helped with the presents. Louisa's favorites ended up being a shape sorting lunchbox, a ride-on choo-choo train, and singing bear night light toy. 

Growth

At Lou's 12-month appointment, she weighed 19 pounds and 4 ounces. Y'all that means she is in the 40th percentile! We've gone from not even on the charts to the 40th! Someone please celebrate! She's hitting those milestones like a champ (even a little early, but who's bragging?). She's walking -- the side step sometimes, which is really funny. 

She says dada all the time. She says nana when she's mad at Anna. She says mama when she's really desperate. I see where I stand.

Louisa loves black beans. Loves. She's also a fan of green beans, carrots, and meat. Any meat. All day. Just meat, please. At such a young age, she is clearly more of an opinionated eater than Anna. I can only imagine what the full-on toddler years will be like.

Speaking of eating, Louisa refuses avocados and sweet potatoes, but she enjoys nibbling on a bar of avocado SOAP . . . and sneaking tastes of sister's CeraVe lotion. Things I never thought I'd say: Louisa, do not eat the toiletries.

Her other trouble spots include a constant fascination with electrical outlets, cords, and the carbon monoxide monitor in the kitchen. Perhaps she will be an electrical engineer.

Her interests are really starting to show. She continues to favor cars, balls, toys that make music, and Elmo. She also enjoys pulling out tissues from the Kleenex box, pilfering through my purse, taking lids on and off and on and off and on and off, playing the piano (now tall enough to reach the keys), and "kitchen" (a box of plastic lids who no longer have a container mate along with a small kitchen set equals tons of fun).

Louisa also pursued her modeling career as I continue to paste my kids' pictures on the Fort Worth Moms Blog. You can see her 7-month self on this post I wrote, "Infant Photography Made Easy." For a complete look at her oh-so-adorable professional pics to document her six months of life that actually ended up being her seven month photos because she is the second child and nothing happens on time, simply click here.

This Time Last Year

It all started last August. The self-appointed deadline of ending our wait to adopt came near. Yet, we had no second child to welcome home. In a rare move, I detracted my previous commitment to this deadline thanks to a sense of desperation I never ever wish to feel again. Graciously, my kind husband agreed. In retrospect, I have a sneaky suspicion these desperate feelings were an unexplainable maternal, Divine intervention. You see, my second baby was on her way.

October came and went with an updated home study and the comfort of "doing something," but the weight of waiting never left. November I wore the waiting like a heavy coat.

Then, on November 14, we learned about a baby girl yet to be born. We chose to show our profile book to the birthmother that next Monday.

Monday came and went and no news from the adoption agency.

Tuesday came and nearly went. I sent an email only to receive the reply: "There isn't any updates to send along to you at this time."

I was totally suspicious and over-analytical of every word, the order of the sentence, and so forth. How much longer until there was a concrete update?

On Wednesday, while waiting in the drive-thru line at Chick-fil-A, I get the call: Not only did the birthmother choose us, but the baby was also born that Monday, November 17. This was why we weren't informed. A lot had been developing faster than expected!

But there was a catch or two, and the adoption agency wasn't comfortable placing with us until the week after Thanksgiving.

So I lived with the possibility, a likelihood of a baby girl. Maybe mine. Maybe not mine. Willing December to make its appearance as quickly as possible. That is also a heaviness.

The Tuesday before Thanksgiving, we met the birthmother -- a delightful, smart, loving young women. The meeting went so well, and we felt hope.

So this time last year, I was in the middle of a muddle: I went from not knowing if a second child was in the cards for us to waiting for a response to cautiously rejoicing for a girl all to wait for several more days not knowing so much until finally . . . .

On this day last year, I met her -- my baby daughter, Louisa Bryn Caroline. I loved her at first sight. My waiting was over; my heart burst with joy and thankfulness -- two sentiments I continue to embrace one year later. A family of three became four.

So if you are waiting for something or someone, don't despair. Who knows what will be this time next year.

Happy family day, my loves!

Our first photo as the Youree Four!

Another Medical Test for Louisa

You may remember Louisa had a MRI earlier this year. Since then, we've visited neurosurgeons, urologist, a genetics specialist . . . had ultrasounds and other tests all to determine whether or not this little lady has a tethered spinal cord. While one radiologist believes her images are normal, her neurosurgeon and a second radiologist felt something is abnormal.

So, here we are in December. Louisa has reached the 1-year mark, and the doctors are hoping her anatomy has grown enough to undergo the next procedure -- which will hopefully be the ONE that gives some direction to the doctors.

On Thursday, December 3, Lou will have light sedation to complete this test. Prayers for a smooth-sailing procedure and for her to recover from it all well. My mama's heart is also fretting because her appointment will not be until 1:00 p.m., meaning she will go without any solid food from 7:00 a.m. and her last clear liquids at 9:00. Prayers for an understanding heart and tummy!

Remember the Thanksgiving I Shoplifted?

This Thanksgiving holiday was certainly one for the record books:

1. We celebrated Thanksgiving a few days early on Saturday, November 21, in a full-on feast that also doubled as Louisa's first birthday party. Welcomed and fed 30 in our home? Check. Celebrated our sweet girl? Check. Louisa loved the cupcake but chose a dainty approach? Check.

2. Bryan was on call for five days during Thanksgiving. While that makes for a less-than-traditional holiday, I'd so much rather he work Turkey Day than Christmas. Amen?

3. Thanksgiving was redeemed thanks to a visit from our niece. She always adds a lot of joy to our home. (And it was nice to have some help. LOL. Solo parenting is not for me.)

4. I dragged Baylee in a torrential rainstorm on Thanksgiving night around 8:30 to engage in primal shopping. Much to my disappointment, the mobs were absent. No waiting in lines. Got a few good deals. And home by 11:30. Weird.

5. Day number two of ninja shopping. This time I dragged Baylee, Anna, and Louisa is equally heavy rain to exercise our shopping prowess. Of course, we didn't get out the door until 11:00 a.m., but was again so disappointed by the lack of lines! Easiest Black Friday shopping I've ever done and that's with two small children and flooding rains. I mean. Really.

6. Dragged Baylee back out shopping after Bryan got home to score kids' clothes at Gap. After a power sweep through the girls' sections, I checked out. Drove home. Walked in. Started to take off my jacket, and then realized I had a pair of girl's, size five leggings thrown over my shoulder. I WALKED OUT THE DOOR OF GAP WITH THESE PANTS. I DID NOT PURCHASE THESE PANTS. Agh, I shoplifted . . . accidentally.

7. Took pants back to Gap the next day and profusely apologized. The "workers," and Anna would say, got quite the giggle.

8. And out came the Christmas decor. We sufficiently taught Baylee the Youree philosophy of ornament placement: No branch left behind.

9. To celebrate Baylee's last night with us, Bryan surviving Thanksgiving call, and giving me a break from slaving over the stove (ahem), we went out to eat. Except. On the drive to the restaurant, we totally owned a pothole, which in turn owned our back right tire in a blowout fashion. Bryan then dropped us at the restaurant while he drove to the tire shop. Of course, he then discovered the other three tires were so worn that placement of the new tire would jack up the alignment so we had to buy four new tires. By the time he picked us up, we were done eating. He ate leftover turkey and pretzels when we got home.

Now that's a holiday to remember. Hope your Thanksgiving was just as happy.

Anna-isms #10

Anna Zane had the honor of being a flower girl in her cousin's wedding. 

The lovely Anna Zane is four but nearing five at a fast pace. (Be still, my heart.) Just this week I submitted an application for kindergarten. GASP! At present, we are considering two schooling options for her: an applied learning center near our house (two blocks!) and our neighborhood public school, which happens to be one of the best in the state! Either way, we feel it's a win. We will make the final decision in spring.

As for turning five, Anna has a lot of dreams about what that means. She is sure five means:

• Getting her ears pierced.
• Growing very tall.
• Staying up later.
• Drinking Coca-loca (Coca-cola) and Dr. drink (Dr. Pepper).
• Walking to the neighbor's by herself.
• And pretty much anything that's currently forbidden will certainly be permissible to a five year old.

I have some hard, sad news for her.

Another item on her list is bringing home a pet. You see, our neighbor's cat, Lefty, who adored Anna . .  and Anna adored, went to cat heaven earlier this year. (It was gruesome. I literally found 1/4 of a cat in my front yard! We are still perplexed about what happened to this feline.) Since that time, she has repeatedly asked for a koala. Only she doesn't actually mean a koala; she means a Chihuahua. Aunt Tina has a Chihuahua, so Anna wants one too. (Thanks a lot, Tina.) Anna has assured us she will be so "sponsible" when she turns five, and thus, could care wonderfully for a koala.

In the mix of the five-year-old discussion is talk about kindergarten. I have used this to my advantage with little gems such as: "You know, kindergartners do not throw tantrums in the floor." To which she quickly reminds me she is only four.

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Differences are a hot topic around here. Anna fully believes she and Louisa are twins because they both have brown skin, brown eyes, etc. We were talking about differences and similarities, when I chimed in that I also have brown hair. She looked at me, rather sympathetic, and said, "Well, yours is kinda grey brown."

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Anna just knew everyone would think she and Louisa were the real Elsa and Anna on Halloween. They were certainly more beautiful than any princesses I've ever seen!

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It is the job -- and compulsion -- of every parent to brag about, rave on and on about the talents of his or her children. I must be faithful to that job. Teehee. Okay, okay, seriously: Anna is a very talented artist. She is creating things I couldn't dream up even now. She problem solves to create exactly what she wants how she envisions it. When I say I'm impressed, I mean it.

A Loooooooong Silence

Nearly every blogger does it. A season of life causes a pause. A break. A hiatus. Radio, er, Internet silence. Yes, it has been a long silence from me.

I'd like to blame the silence on being a mother of two. Yes, this season of mothering two littles is challenging. But really, really wonderful. While I wince that I've not catalogued Louisa's first months quite as well as I did Anna's, I am content to know I've soaked them in, these last moments of loving on my last little infant. These last moments of Anna being at home full time.

Or I could blame a job change, a slight turn on the career path. As you know, I took over ownership of the Fort Worth Moms Blog in April. It's been something else since then. My mind explodes at the growth, the reception of this business. My heart explodes at the community I'm part of, the ladies I've meet, the difference this organization is making in real mamas lives. Could this possibly be my job??? YES! Amazing.

New baby. New job. No time. Right?

Eh, yes and no.

The real reason my silence lasted so long is this: Grief. Yes, I am still reeling over the loss of my dear friend, Bethany. I'm still somewhere stuck in grief.

New baby. New job. New loss. That's what's going on. A WHOLE LOT!

But I'm hopeful. I'm grateful. I'm committing to be less insular and more open. I need to end the long silence. And I hope you will listen.

The Results Are In (From the MRI)

The results are in from Louisa's MRI; however, don't get your hopes up. We didn't gain many answers.

To be honest, I'm not even sure I will accurately or correctly describe the results because they were very ambiguous. The neurosurgeon is not certain whether Louisa's spinal cord is tethered or not. The MRI was inconclusive about that.

The imaging did reveal that Lou is missing a vertebra (although we were told two different ones so we are seeking clarification here); she is also missing ribs. (Perhaps Adam stole his rib back? Okay, okay bad joke and bad timing.) There is another aspect of her spine that is "thick," although the MRI wasn't clear what is causing the thickness. Blood vessel, fatty tissue, her actual spinal cord?

Because of her missing parts, the radiologists who reviewed the case offered differing opinions. One felt everything was in the range of normal; another felt the findings were abnormal. The neurosurgeon decided to look at the images himself and agreed with the "abnormal" diagnosis. So, he wants to "follow her closely." She will visit his office again in four months unless any big changes occur, and then he wants to see her sooner. He did refer us to a geneticist, who will help him and us better understand why she has these abnormalities and if there are any other issues to be aware of.

In the meantime, Louisa is growing well . . . gaining weight, hitting those developmental milestones. From our vantage point, she is thriving. She's a happy, content girl. We are so thankful for her, love her deeply . . . whether she's missing a rib or not.

Louisa's MRI

Tomorrow is the big day!

We arrive at the hospital bright and early for Louisa's MRI. As you may know, Lou's been diagnosed with a spinal abnormality, which was discovered via ultrasound. The MRI is the doc's shot to get a good, clear, close up look at what's going on there. We're hopeful the news will be positive.

The whole ordeal will take 4-5 hours, and Lou will be intubated, which makes my heart shiver a bit. I also am not a huge fan of her going through all this without Mama or Daddy in the room. All in all, she should only be away from us 2-2.5 hours, so I suppose I can survive.

You know, I sure would appreciate your prayers for wise doctors and nurses, smooth sailing, Lou's tummy to feel full even though she'll be missing a bottle, Lou's reactions to the drugs, and calm hearts for us.

My two cuties on Palm Sunday!

A New Chapter in My Career: FWMB Owner

It's with a WHOLE BIG BUNCH of excitement that I announce my recent acquisition of the Fort Worth Moms Blog (FWMB). The blog, which functions much like a magazine, serves as an online resource for mamas in Tarrant County--connecting ladies with local information, pertinent events, encouragement in motherhood, and helpful products/tools.

My dream for FWMB is for it to be a champion of motherhood and a community hub for the moms in our area. The blog is already a beacon in Fort Worth (thanks to the hard work of previous owner, Emily Strong), and I hope to make that light brighter!

This opportunity came at just the right time. Six months ago or so, the mister and I had a discussion about my current work situation. Quite frankly, I was waning in excitement for the editorial services gig I had going on. While I still will maintain a few editing clients, I wanted to venture into my own writing and other areas.

At the time, I was the managing editor for the blog. When I learned of the availability of the blog, after a few weeks of thought, counsel, and prayer, I decided to dive in. The ownership of the Fort Worth Moms Blog lets me manage my own business, continue to use my "editor" hat, and fits with my season of life (motherhood to littles, duh).

So I'd appreciate your prayers and support. Certainly, I have a few months of acclimation ahead of me. If you get a chance, visit FWMB! I would absolutely devour any ideas, recommendations, etc. Check us out too--and follow, and like, and share--on social media: Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, and Google+.

Bethany Marie: A Tribute

Lower your expectations. This isn't going to be pretty or perfect. I've written and re-written this post in my mind a million times. I can't get the words just right. I can't capture Bethany well enough. It is, in fact, impossible.

Each day that passes since her death I realize more and more and more how much I've lost in losing her. I want to somehow retell every memory, every moment my mind recalls in hopes to somehow hold on to her longer. But that too is impossible.

(I'm crying right now because as I write this, "Islands in the Stream" came on my Pandora, and Bethany would have thought that was both pathetic and hysterical.)

I miss her.

We shared a lot. Seven years living in the same city. Two years living together day in and day out in the dorm. And another handful of years as neighbors in an apartment complex. There are thousands of moments, inside jokes, silly stories, tearful conversations, and long walks that involved just the two of us. It is sobering and very lonely to realize that the only other person on this planet who understood/remembered those moments is actually now no longer on this planet.

Bethany, unlike any other friend I have, appreciated and understood what it meant to be a Southern woman. We lovingly--and often jovially--embraced our "heritage." We hoped to grow old and cranky together, growing tomatoes, and spoiling heaps of grandkids.

We both loved the SEC. She loved Alabama (especially football). I devoted my life to the Kentucky Wildcats (basketball, folks). She and I understood the importance of celebrating our teams from the GREATEST conference. 

Art stirred us, especially the written word. Poetry, song lyrics, short stories, novels . . . we discussed them at length. Both English majors, Beth and I attended multiple classes together in college. We were the self-proclaimed "black sheep" of the department because we loved to pass notes and giggle during lectures, which was a bit taboo amongst the rather serious-minded English students. (And for the record, we made fantastic grades AND had a good time!)

Beth and I embraced the same values and philosophies when it came to raising kiddos. I could talk with her freely about the joys and challenges of motherhood. She called me just days after we brought Lou home. Thinking that I would be able to spend a few days with her on our upcoming girls' weekend, I didn't chat with her as long as I wanted. I regret not talking with her more, asking her those questions about adding a second child and so forth, asking how the family dynamics changed now that Naomi was nearing two. I was going to talk to her about this.

If nothing else (and there is really plenty more), I appreciated Beth for her truthfulness. She'd tell it to you straight. I trusted that. I knew she'd give me an honest opinion grounded in wisdom, love, and loyalty. She had my best interests at heart. I have lost a champion in losing her.

I have lost so much in losing her.

But the thing that's keeping me sane, that's keeping me afloat is Jesus' love for the both of us. The implications of God's grace in our lives is too vast to explain here. God offers me hope and comfort because of His promises to preserve His glory and my good and most certainly Bethany's good. We both loved Jesus in return and followed Him to places that caused separation from family and friends. I moved to another country known as Texas, while Bethany and her family moved to Indonesia and then Peru. These five years we were living on different continents saw changes in our families (babies!) and growth in our maturity, yet we still remained dearest friends . . . even if Skype sessions were few and far between. We talked about family life; we talked about making new friends in new places; we talked about wanting our work to mean something in God's kingdom.

Perhaps, the most surreal experience of my life thus far, was speaking at Bethany's funeral. In my wildest, scariest dreams, I never thought I'd see the day I'd do such a thing. But, I did, and am thankful and humbled David trusted me with such a chore. I gave it my all, trying to make Beth proud and hoping she'd chuckle a time or two. I tried to honor her and the One she most hoped to honor. With that, and because I've been requested to do so, the following are my notes from the eulogy:

As Anne Shirley, in Anne of Green Gables so classically said,

"Marilla, do you think that I shall ever have a bosom friend in Avonlea?"

"A bosom friend--an intimate friend, you know--a really kindred spirit to whom I can confide my inmost soul. I've dreamed of meeting her all my life. I never really supposed

I would, but so many of my loveliest dreams have come true all at once that perhaps this one will, too. Do you think it's possible?"

It was the summer of 2000. By this point my freshman year of college was a memory; Y2K came and went without a glitch or computer crisis and the school season was soon to commence.

I attended some party some where. (I truly don’t even remember.) The only thing I do remember about that night was meeting this girl who was playing a game and talking sports with Mark Littlefield. She felt passionately about her opinions and was very knowledgeable about the topic. I thought to myself, “Uh, she’s a little crazy.”

That was the first time I met Bethany.

I know we started school. My sophomore year and her freshman. But I don’t remember how or when we became friends. To me, it’s like she walked on campus and we joined hearts. This girl quickly became, as Anne and Diana, my bosom buddy.

As English majors, we shared classes. We shared late nights and long talks. We shared meals and disgusting amounts of junk food. We shared dorm rooms. We shared hopes. We shared tears. We shared dreams.

We became working professionals and wives and mothers . . . we became women together. Our friendship was so much more than a college experience. It reached years and levels beyond that.

The Bethany I know and love embraced life, even chased after life, always on the hunt for an adventure or an opportunity to belly laugh with her smile wide and head tossed back . She danced to her own beat . . . and any other beat she heard. Music and poetry and story moved her soul. She was loyal. In pain, in sorrow, in joy, in love, she was uninhibited, causing those around her to relax, be at ease, to believe in possibilities just around the corner. From sports to entertainment to literature and theology to the psychology that makes us all tick; her interest varied.

She loved her friends thoroughly. She believed in and cherished her family relentlessly. Her heart belonged to David and motherhood became her greatest joy.

But she, of course, was not perfect. Bethany had insecurities. She was over-analytical. She made mistakes. She grieved God. And she knew it, but she also knew the transforming power of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the redemption found in Him. The harshness of life and her failings and others did not crush her. She believed Christ suffered and died and rose again to create a means for humanity, for her to no longer be under the weight of sin and punishment and death. She committed her life, along with her husband and children, to live out the love of Christ however He wanted to use them.

This is the woman we are remembering today . . . celebrating today . . . We are pausing to give thanks to our kind and great God, who has not only bestowed on us every spiritual blessing, but also chose us, allowed our paths to intersect with hers. God could have chosen a millions other girls to be Beth’s bosom friend. I’m so glad He chose me.

Beth, I love you. I miss you. I will see you soon.

Anna-isms #9

After the sadness of recent days, the blog needs a light-hearted post. So it's Anna Zane to the rescue. That little darling brings joy and laughter every.single.day. Here are a few jewels we've heard lately.

Louisa was crying while I was holding her; Anna, the ever doting sister, came over and tried to explain that everything was all right. She said, "Louisa, this is Mama, not a human." Anna has confused "human" with "stranger."

*****

The scariest words you will hear? When Anna says, "Close your eyes and open your mouth."

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"I think God eats crackers for lunch, yogurt for breakfast, and pasta for dinner."

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"I hope God never comes to our house. He'd break the door."

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As you can see God is a really big topic at our house these days . . . as well as conversation about "bathroom things." (What a combo, right?) These two worlds collided while she was on the toilet the other day.

"Mom, how big is God's toilet? It is the hugest in the world?"

I don't know, Anna. I am not sure God has a toilet.

"Let's ask Him right now." Closes her eyes, "God, how big is your toilet and what do you like to eat?"

A few days later, Anna also informed her father during bath time that she is an expert with it comes to pee and poop.

*****

Anna is really interested in writing letters. She also wants you to show her words; we are thankful for her interest in these. She's always learning at a quicker rate than we can keep up. Anna's smart and very social. Playing in the backyard by herself  (with me obsessively looking out the window) is a new accomplishment for her. Oh, the things she gets into (water, dirt, stirring, you get the idea). She fancies edamame, pistachios, clementines, and french fries these days. But give it a week, her "favorites" will be different. Anna is excited about getting older. Just the other day, she walked up to me, showed me her arm, and said, "Look, I have hair on my arms now." This is, of course, a milestone to getting older . . . in her mind. 

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At school today, Anna had a subsitute teacher. When I asked the teacher's name, she told me, "Karen Carpenter." Interesting . . . .

This is from the same girl who told me James Taylor was in her class.

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Now that I am often otherwise detained with little sis, Anna is quite adept at helping herself to the fridge and pantry. She seems to employ the "ask for forgiveness not permission" philosophy in this regard. I am convinced she will be 7' 2'' given the amount of food she is eating recently. 

*****

If you follow me on Facebook and/or Instagram, you have notice the number of photos of Anna have significantly diminished. This is not because I've ditched her for the new baby. She is in some phase of refusing to be photographed. Her Dad is rubbing off . . . .

*****

The big news in our house is the arrival of little sister. So many people have so sweetly inquired how Anna handled the adjustment. First, Anna is the BEST big sister. I know, I know that I am biased, but really . . . she adores Lou. She can't wait until Lou wakes from a nap. Anna wants to be part of everything in her care. Anna often tells Lou, "I love you the most." She talks about how they are sisters and will be best friends. It's melt your heart adorable. And she helps me soooo much . . . without complaint or whine: get diapers, put bottle in sink, toss clothes in laundry, find toys. It's sweet how interested she is in being part of Lou's care.

But.

Anna does struggle with sharing attention, especially if Mama needs to focus more on Lou. We talk a lot about taking turns and about the role of a big sis. Overall, though, I think Louisa is so lucky to have Anna for a big sister. And I know I am deeply blessed to call her my daughter. 

We Prayed for a Miracle

For certain, hundreds prayed for my friend Bethany. That number is likely more in the thousands, but I’m always one to estimate modestly. I prayed. Family prayed. Friends prayed. Friends of friends prayed. Missionaries prayed. Pastors prayed. Children prayed. Strangers prayed.

Yet, Bethany passed away in the early morning hours on January 8, less than two weeks after her initial breast cancer diagnosis. She leaves behind a husband of 10 years, three children under the age of 6, and numerous family and friends shocked and sick and sad by her death.

So with all that praying, why no miracle?

I’ve been asking that question—and several others—for the last 10 days. If the elder session at my church were aware of some of my thoughts, my excommunication is a likely possibility.

As I’ve said before, prayer is a mystery I cannot crack. Yes, the more and more I think about it, reading Scripture as my guide, I’m realizing that my personal view of prayer, uh, of God, is more like a vending machine, a genie in a bottle, a lucky charm, a help hotline. Doesn’t God respond to simple formulas? Jesus follower + request to God = all my desires come true. Or even better: Jesus follower + asking for a good thing = guaranteed affirmative response. Isn’t there a point when the sheer number of people praying for one thing trumps God’s plan? Totally what we think, right? If we could only get a few more folks to pray about this, then . . . .

Although I cannot completely explain the mystery of prayer, nor is this the post for me to try, I can assert, with quite a bit of confidence, that God not only heard our prayers, but also responded.

Months ago my four college pals (which included Bethany) and I planned a girls’ getaway. Airlines tickets were purchased. Husbands asked off work. Kiddos cared for. Dozens and dozens of weeks in advance the way was made easy for Lori, Natalie, Emilee, and I to be able to change destinations and to be able to be together to celebrate and bury our friend. Luck or chance had nothing to do with it. God knew our needs and provided for them before we even realized we had a need. To me, that is miraculous.

And how many times did I say to my husband in the last week, “I will not be able to handle it if she dies. It will be impossible for me to be okay.” These were not and are not flippant statements. I meant it. I mean it. Yet, God’s faithfulness, mercy, and sovereignty have and will enable me put one foot in front of the other. It is a miracle that David, Debbi, Brooke, Brandon, Isaac, Jude, Naomi, and on and on and on can function, not to mention laugh and dream of the future. It is a miracle. 

The miracle of redemption has made this possible; and that miracle is still working out in my life, in their lives. We have much to stir us and cause amazement. We have much for which to be thankful.

Cancer Is Eating My Friend {Pray for Bethany}

Apologies for the harsh title. It's just how I feel. It's all the cliches; it's all the usual descriptors; it's all the ick that exists.

It's a nightmare that won't end. A train wreck in slow motion. A Mack truck making its rounds. A breath I'm trying to catch. I'm in the deep end. I'm treading water . . . and not very well.

Only last week my friend, Bethany Lytle, learned of her breast cancer diagnosis. In the handful of days that followed, I've read these words in emails and Facebook updates and heard messages over the phone:

The cancer is confirmed.
Then it's invasive and aggressive.
Surgery postponed for months, maybe a year until chemo has a chance to work
Depressed and in a dark place.
Next, feeling very poorly
The doctor wants you to come back in
Calcium is dangerously high.
Having a PET.
Chemo next Monday
No, chemo on this Friday
Wait. Chemo tomorrow.
Not having a PET
The cancer is aggressive
Praying for a miracle.

Cancer is eating my friend. And I feel sick. Sick to my stomach. Sick in my heart. My friend is sick with cancer.

And she's just not any friend. She is a dearest, a best, a "just-like-a-sister." We shared millions of laughs, tears, and bags of Doritos in the 14 years I've known her. We've watched each other marry. We've moved miles away. We've welcomed babies. We planned to be cranky old Southern women together. I still want that.

I struggle to understand the role and purpose of prayer in relation to God's sovereignty. Yet, that complexity doesn't keep me from believing prayer is purposeful and necessary. If God has placed such emphasis on it and it's role in my life, I will pursue it . . . while clinging to Romans 8. Please, groan on my behalf, on my friend's behalf. I am praying without ceasing, and I mean that quite literally. I am praying because of who Jesus is and what He has accomplished for Bethany and myself; after all, that is the meaning of "in Jesus' name." I am praying as one who grieves but never does so without hope. I am praying boldly. I am praying with supplications and thanksgiving. I am praying.

And I beg you to do the same.

As "coincidence" would have it, this weekend is a first-ever girls' trip for my college buddies and me. Bethany was to be part of that trip, but, obviously she cannot attend. And as "coincidence" goes, the getaway destination turned out to be a short distance from where she is hospitalized. So the four friends are driving to visit with Bethany and her family during our trip. It's not what we planned those many months ago when we daydreamed about this trip, but I am immensely grateful for the opportunity to visit my friend and share the experience with the girls who helped me become a woman.

I will look to the hills. From where comes my help? My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth.

Why Did You Name Her Louisa? (And Other Fun Facts About Her Adoption)

When it comes to naming little people, the hubs and I take it seriously (as I am sure all parents do). It's  one thing to daydream about what you'll name your six kids one day (maybe girls only do this), but it's another thing when those cuties are a reality. (No, we are not having six children. When I was 16, I had six names I liked so I decided I must parent six children so that these fantastic names could be used. Ah, my teenage self . . . .)

Every letter of our first born's name has significance; so it is no surprise that our second daughter's name carries the same weight.

Louisa (pronounced Lou-ee-sah; we've been asked multiple times, which is fine; just thought I'd clear it up; geez, I'm using a lot of parenthesis in this post): My great, great grandmother on my father's maternal side (did you follow that?) was named Louisa. Since Anna is named after my mother, Lou is a nod to my dad. Bryan also has a great aunt Louise.

Louisa means "renowned warrior."And I love that. For whatever reason, this little one needed that name. It fit.

And last, and probably of most revealing of all, the name Louisa means something to me. It represents a lot of what I hold important. There is the familial connection. There is the obvious (if you know me) literary association (yes, I was part of the Louisa May Alcott society in college). There is also the meaning of the name. To me, Louisa means a fighter who champions noble causes, a fighter who is successful in her endeavors, a fighter for good . . . but Louisa is also a feminine name, depicting grace and gentleness . . . Louisa, thanks to Ms. Alcott, also represents a love of the arts and everything this female writer accomplished (especially for women) through her work . . . . Louisa hints at redemption. During my early twenties, God worked to turn ashes into beauty in my life. The name Louisa reminds me of the faithfulness and hope God showed me during those LMA days.

Bryn: This is a variation of her daddy's name: Bryan. (He says he gave his A to Anna.) Bryn means "a hill" and has association to Bryan, of course, which means "force, strength." Some will combine the two indicating that the hill is steep and strong, like a stronghold in battle. Every time I think about the strength of her all her names and how hill is incorporated, Psalm 121: "I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth."

Caroline: This is in honor of her birth name. She was named after her maternal birth grandmother. In keeping with the theme, Caroline is a version of Charles . . . and means "strong, famous bearer." The French use the name as a derivative of Carol, which means joyous song. We like both. :-)

"Coincidentally enough" we realized after we included Caroline in her name that Bryan's grandmother, Zane Snellgroves, (who our Anna Zane is named after), was married to Pop Snellgroves whose name is Buster Carroll. Alas, Zane and Carol-ine are back together again!

On the Fort Worth Moms Blog, where I am the managing editor, I posted a piece today about our adoption story with Louisa. This describes what we encountered during the 14-month wait for our littlest love. Enjoy!