Tuesday, June 19, 2012


Days like today often put Benjamin in perspective for me. I know it might sound silly, but I forget that he has Down syndrome. It's those moments when people stop us and say, "Hey my brother has Downs" or when Mr. Urologist doesn't deliver the news we were expecting. Frankly, Ben's been such a picture of perfection that when something goes a little off kilter it feels like the whole boat could flip at any moment. Maybe it's because of everything else going on in our lives. Maybe it's because it feels like things might pile on until it actually does flip over. Maybe it's because the Lord knows I need lessons in patience and trust.
Regardless, here's the deal...
Dude needs surgery. God gave his bladder a little extra something. Problem is, the extra something isn't allowing his body to get rid of what it's supposed to. So surgery it is. It's a fairly simple procedure, all things considered. [That's me convincing myself that 2-3 hours under the knife and a 2-3 day hospital stay is indeed "simple."] But Micah's right; we've been so blessed with Ben's health. A lot of babies with designer genes have heart issues that require major surgery and so far Ben's heart beats in perfect rhythm. So a bladder diverticulum? Bring it.
I may have choked back tears talking to the doctor. I may have checked out and gotten home wondering if I had actually driven there. I may have felt a little numb while talking to people on the phone. And I may have been reminded of things I needed to hear in those conversations. I also may have realized that I'm not alone in this. I heard this song on the way home and for whatever reason this line stuck with me the rest of the day. "We were meant to be courageous." I know the writers meant for this to be directed to men and encouraging them to be leaders in their families and communities, but I also believe that to be true in our lives right at this moment. God did not give me a spirit of fear. But of power, love and a sound mind. [2 Timothy 1:7] We were meant to be courageous. We got this. No - He's got this. We've got nothing to fear.

So an extra chromosome? Bring it.
Extra bladder pouch? Bring it.
No idea how the next chapter of our story is going to turn out? Bring it. 

I've got my cape and tiara.
[And my pink stilettos. Oh yes.]

Bring. It.

Monday, June 11, 2012


It's a valley. That's how I would describe the last few weeks of life. We've been here before. God shakes up the snow globe and we just wait for it to settle. The waiting, though? Hardest part.
Some of you have heard directly or through the grapevine what happened on June 1st. If you haven't heard the details, well... tough. It's not something I can broadcast. Just know that the snow globe got blown up and we're working hard trying to pick up the pieces.
People have been asking how we're doing. We're exhausted. Physically, mentally, spiritually, relationally. Just freaking tired. It's been a long two years. We're thankful there's an end in sight, thankful that the end is more than just a fleeting thought; we just don't know what kind of end it's going to be.
With that said, we need your help. We have to get Micah home. If you know of a job opportunity for him anywhere in the continental United States, holler at me. Like literally - grab a blow horn and give your vocal cords a workout. If that doesn't work, email me or shoot me a Facebook message. If you'd like more information about what Micah does and what he's qualified for, add that to the blow horn holler.

There ya have it. Life as we know it currently. We appreciate the prayers and outpouring of bear hugs. Keep 'em coming.

Saturday, June 2, 2012

Right Now

I know where Micah is and I know what a dangerous place it can be. Sometimes we forget that we're still at war. People shoot at us, we shoot back. I get it. But when you get a phone call and the voice on the other end begins with, "I'm coming home," you stop in your tracks. Your roller coaster ride hits the breaks and the voice on the loud speaker mumbles something about "Everybody get off." 
The short version is that Micah's reaction and shaken phone call was based off of incorrect information. When the dust settled and what actually happened began to surface, the idea of coming home right now dwindled. He's not hurt. Life is not beyond repair. We just derailed for about 15 hours. 
He will, however, be home in August. That's all that matters right now. 

In Benjamin news, we made it through the bladder test. Dude's got a diverticulum attached to his bladder. It's basically a pouch that's not supposed to be there. The test was to determine whether or not it was storing waste. If it is, we have a problem. We will follow up with the urologist soon and hopefully find out what the next step will be. That's all that matters right now. 

Life is good. Bumps in the road happen. Ours just feel like mountains sometimes. And that's okay. It takes a village to raise a child, right? My village always pulls through. Sometimes I doubt that fact and wonder what God's trying to teach me, but then it pulls through. And that's all that matters right now. 

Happy Weekend.