tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53572752228602070702024-03-13T21:30:04.728-07:00Warford and WifeFaith Life Fun Love FamilyWarford&Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07564948182479678300noreply@blogger.comBlogger144125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5357275222860207070.post-18639598718110965782023-02-04T17:55:00.001-08:002023-02-04T17:56:33.122-08:00The Piano<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBtuoZlJQQ2A1t23Y_gbpE9g-DqIgfwnLWKpcmK5BP9IjZnt3VBSnnhQNx6L6-KuO6ptb11601zBvCqNhzZq0HuO54Eex0nLEAHaWPVy1QYYbSSyw7EfYJQgcpFEhiZMcDzlJzfz5JHAssvOTxaN-oAOl2gh_lZ9E0s_BmYFWh0TBXtlZgmidYzcs/s1470/Before%20&%20After.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1470" data-original-width="1258" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBtuoZlJQQ2A1t23Y_gbpE9g-DqIgfwnLWKpcmK5BP9IjZnt3VBSnnhQNx6L6-KuO6ptb11601zBvCqNhzZq0HuO54Eex0nLEAHaWPVy1QYYbSSyw7EfYJQgcpFEhiZMcDzlJzfz5JHAssvOTxaN-oAOl2gh_lZ9E0s_BmYFWh0TBXtlZgmidYzcs/s320/Before%20&%20After.png" width="274" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div><p></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">You know when you really want to do something or you really want something to happen, but the timing isn’t right? Everybody has experienced this at some point in their life- or maybe it’s a weekly experience or a daily one for you right now. Generally, if you ignore the fact that the timing isn’t right and you press on to do or get the thing you want anyway, it doesn’t go well or turn out as well as it would have if you’d just waited. </p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE8juMtLZ8xyslGRK15iTZVxBfJggjnpn7jSJkH9kMC7ffgCVhKZ-4opSgKtJ2QXmtTdF6UEBva2u3XhEivEqocT9BrjC6dowMFv7eFyQsGXLXtF3qKT6VCZ9kHB0JOqX7GO-LxwmQFwmTt2lzANy2kJDolMhq7d04qQ-_om-ctlNHDCjLTzVkSaI/s4032/IMG_5281.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE8juMtLZ8xyslGRK15iTZVxBfJggjnpn7jSJkH9kMC7ffgCVhKZ-4opSgKtJ2QXmtTdF6UEBva2u3XhEivEqocT9BrjC6dowMFv7eFyQsGXLXtF3qKT6VCZ9kHB0JOqX7GO-LxwmQFwmTt2lzANy2kJDolMhq7d04qQ-_om-ctlNHDCjLTzVkSaI/s320/IMG_5281.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">Last Fall I wanted to paint our piano. Our piano had been lovingly passed on to us by some dear family friends, the Hirschy’s. Tracey (the wife/mom of the Hirschy tribe) had welcomed me into her home right after I started my MK business (literally, I hadn’t been a consultant for a whole month yet, but she heard about one of our new skincare lines, went to the MK website, searched for consultants near her, and picked me). I received my first MK inventory order in the mail just a couple days before she contacted me. If she’d called me a mere 3 days sooner and asked if I had product in stock for one of her daughters to try, I would have had to say, “No” instead of “Yes, I can bring it over this afternoon.” </p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">When I walked into her house it felt just like mine did growing up: safe, comfortable, lived-in (but not dirty), Spirit-filled. She offered me tea in a beautiful tea cup as I sat in their kitchen getting to know one of her girls and her skincare needs. When I left I had that, “But I really don’t want to leave,” feeling. That’s how people always were in my parents’ house growing up… people just never seemed to want to leave. I did leave her house, obviously, but Tracey didn’t realize at the time that she’d sort of inherited me that day. In the years to come she’d become a close friend who I’d turn to for advice, confide in, entrust her girls with the care of my children (and to be honest, she entrusted me as one of their first employers- you know it goes both ways), and I’d ask her a question that completely changed our life in Central Arkansas, “Where did you send Ben (your son) to Mother’s Day Out?”</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">Long story short, I drove across the river to a Baptist Church in Little Rock where she’d sent her son to MDO, and it became our home (church + school) for several years. We even moved across that river just so we could live closer to it and be more involved there. During those years, I met women through church/school who have become some of my absolute dearest friends, other families who became like family to us, and there my children began to hide the Word in their hearts. </p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">During the pandemic, Tracey and her family followed the Lord’s calling to move to a city a little farther north and decided they wouldn’t be taking their piano with them. So, they gave it to us, and what a gift it was! </p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbh8kOzrlkKCOoS1ZvCB1ChPY_4i6A_PLTVFkZbJPzo7eRtUyLHQAoRBigUGIlGXWiPt7IZQDfOURWoMAzqhVfjI5GMW4g74CQmZWv90MKHmF9U0cb50ge1wWS3q3ui5pVKAcVKwA_aJHUwN43Nc5sKqia5NXlOvWiCG7eEHNmSZ6U0yOd0SGmjgA/s4032/IMG_8017.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbh8kOzrlkKCOoS1ZvCB1ChPY_4i6A_PLTVFkZbJPzo7eRtUyLHQAoRBigUGIlGXWiPt7IZQDfOURWoMAzqhVfjI5GMW4g74CQmZWv90MKHmF9U0cb50ge1wWS3q3ui5pVKAcVKwA_aJHUwN43Nc5sKqia5NXlOvWiCG7eEHNmSZ6U0yOd0SGmjgA/s320/IMG_8017.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">If you’ve followed me on Instagram for awhile, you’ve seen countless stories of my kids sitting at it either by themselves or with grandparents and great-grandparents. It quickly became a fixture in our home that I could hardly remember life without. </p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">Last Fall, when I told David I wanted to paint the piano he kindly replied, “You really shouldn’t.” </p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">He didn’t mean that I shouldn’t because I couldn’t. He meant that I just shouldn’t right then. The timing wasn’t right. And painting the piano was going to take time. Something I didn’t have in that particular season of our life. </p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">Fast forward to January 2023. I’m not exactly swimming in free time, but a couple weeks ago I was in need of an in-home diversion. </p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">The first time I met with my psychiatrist* was a couple days before everything shut down. During that appointment he asked me what I like to do for fun AT HOME. </p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">“I like to paint,” I answered. “Walls and furniture. Not canvases or water colors or things like that.”</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">“Perfect. Then you need to paint,” He instructed me. (And the nurse in me squealed inside that I had just been given doctor’s orders to paint!) </p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">“And learn," he said. "Learn different ways to paint walls and furniture. You have to have an outlet <b>at home</b> that is JUST for fun. And this one is perfect.”</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">So, back to the piano. I didn’t have a whole weekend or even an afternoon to dedicate to it, but I had a little time here and there during the month of January when I could sit for 10, 20, 30 minutes and get a coat on or paint ever so carefully just above the keys. It was exactly what I needed these past couple weeks. The timing may not have been right in the Fall of 2022, but the timing was perfect January 2023. </p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitnuEcTXYK0ECKbuKPZE1Hzqy4mSDjvvENfnCVMsE-0KT70p2wOhkHvK6vzkaO92AcAhwoJVxqf8SCGvrLUhixtVlKDSUH0T67hr-Eg6wUm7O7rux7_C_5dSn2QFrBE2SnNSks3t9AtKCI9BY62ygvUYzpkI10FE9WcM-p5ct6ttNBcnlqHDJXyU8/s4032/IMG_6841.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitnuEcTXYK0ECKbuKPZE1Hzqy4mSDjvvENfnCVMsE-0KT70p2wOhkHvK6vzkaO92AcAhwoJVxqf8SCGvrLUhixtVlKDSUH0T67hr-Eg6wUm7O7rux7_C_5dSn2QFrBE2SnNSks3t9AtKCI9BY62ygvUYzpkI10FE9WcM-p5ct6ttNBcnlqHDJXyU8/s320/IMG_6841.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyPyyo4IH6PzVKoDjvA2I93PTxIjUNM-PuIyobfUuV3oYj8M_vW8DsYeuJCAksDiqrJYTw1M_MTAbTCgT6itDgkamuE7GjNIDSaoD-ISIXSdix3qksygJlRMrTnIR6mZ0wkF92BID-B9h-A9a03cmT-UERJpr5VkP4oWf6Qgm0BIFvNqeel4pga-Q/s4032/IMG_6845.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyPyyo4IH6PzVKoDjvA2I93PTxIjUNM-PuIyobfUuV3oYj8M_vW8DsYeuJCAksDiqrJYTw1M_MTAbTCgT6itDgkamuE7GjNIDSaoD-ISIXSdix3qksygJlRMrTnIR6mZ0wkF92BID-B9h-A9a03cmT-UERJpr5VkP4oWf6Qgm0BIFvNqeel4pga-Q/s320/IMG_6845.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;">The truth is sometimes the timing just isn’t right. And it’s easy to get frustrated in those moments (or seasons). So, I want to encourage you, when you find yourself disappointed or frustrated because it just isn’t </span><b style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;">the right</b><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;"> time, or </span><b style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;">your</b><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;"> time, or there isn’t</span><b style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;"> enough</b><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;"> time, that the same God who created you also created time. When you surrender your life to Him, that includes your timeline. There will be plenty of “not now” or “not for you” moments, or seasons, or maybe it will be "not ever" during your lifetime. But there are also “here you go” moments and seasons if we remember to look for them. And, it’s a good idea to find a way to remind you of them. </span></div><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">For me, every time I pass this piano I remember Tracey- that God knew I would need her, and He orchestrated our meeting through the internet of all places. That was His timing. </p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">When we chose to move across the river to Little Rock, we did it mere months before the pandemic, and I can’t tell you how many times during the pandemic we praised God because He had provided a bigger home (with a better yard) for us to live in during it. </p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">God knew I was going to need to be under the care of my psychiatrist before the pandemic started too. So, He used the right people to show me I needed help enough weeks in advance so I was able to get an appointment days before in-person visits became impossible. </p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">Whatever it is you’re waiting on, or whenever you get frustrated because the timing just wasn’t or doesn’t ever seem to be right, take heart. Look and see where the timing has been just right. And remember we serve a God who is always with us, no matter the timing. </p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">In Him, </p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">Lindsay</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><i>*LR / Central Arkansas friends, if you need a psychiatrist, I cannot recommend mine highly enough. Please reach out if you’d like for me to send you his information. </i></p>Warford&Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07564948182479678300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5357275222860207070.post-22362399714149457002021-06-26T09:42:00.000-07:002021-06-26T09:42:07.658-07:00Alone, a chapter from my unfinished book, "Underage"<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><u>PREFACE</u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;">This morning I was catching up on some work and noticed the date. A smile spread across my face, and I realized it was the first time I've ever seen today's date and a smile was my immediate reaction. A smile I couldn't shake. I went searching through my laptop's archives to find some pictures from the trip I took to Kenya 16 years ago today, but I found this instead.... A chapter I'd written for a book I started writing while I was in college. I never finished writing it. The title of the book is "Underage," and it's for teenagers. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;">This is the chapter where I share the bit of my testimony regarding Kenya, but it was written while I was in my early 20s- so at least 10 years have passed since I last read these words. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;">I'd like to point out here in all caps A LOT OF HEALING HAS TAKEN PLACE since I wrote this chapter. I now better understand how this impacted my entire family and that my perceptions of others, although they were my reality, were not what was actually happening. I understand a lot more about mental health. I understand the church is made up of broken people- and until Jesus back, the church will always fall short. (Do not put your faith and your expectations in the church- put them in JESUS.) </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;">The voice is a little different than my writing voice is now, but the truth and anthem of it is the same- God will not leave us, and He will never waste our hurt. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;">I realize teenagers are dealing with an entirely new basket of things than they were 10 years ago, but maybe something here still resonates with them.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;">I hope it encourages you... even if you're not the target audience for whom I wrote it. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;">Praise be to God, forever and ever. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><3 Lindsay</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><u>ALONE</u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Sometimes home isn’t where the heart is. Sometimes, home can be a stressful place. A place you don’t want to be; a place you find excuses to stay away from. There are endless reasons why this may be the case. I don’t know your’s. But, it hurts your heart when they start to fight. You’re scared you might say something wrong, or that they’re going to yell at you when you show them the report card, the bent bumper on dad’s car, or if you didn’t load the dishwasher just right. If she’s not asleep, she’s drunk. The money isn’t there, and they’re stressed about it. Comments are constantly made about how expensive this or that is, and you really need some supplies for a project in school. They’re never home, and you feel alone. He picks on you, maybe even pushes you sometimes. They make comments about the extra pounds you’ve put on as you hide inside your t-shirt. Your room isn’t a safe place because she shares it with you, and usually kicks you out so she can talk on the phone with her boyfriend. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">For a while you tried to be the pleaser. You tried to say nice things, help out around the house. You really went out of your way so they’d see you loved them, with the hope that they’d be a little nicer to you, or things wouldn’t be so stressful. But, it doesn’t help. She still gets mad at you. He still yells. You sometimes catch yourself feeling scared. You can’t talk about how you feel with anyone else who lives there, and you’re embarrassed to talk to your friends at school. It would make your dad look “bad” if people knew he lost his job. They’d get the wrong idea if you told them your mom constantly had a bottle of wine by her side. So you keep it to yourself. Meanwhile, you continue to feel even more, and more alone. Depressed. Sad. At one point you actually thought it might be better not to be living anymore. Maybe if you just died then you could escape all the pain you felt inside your home, the place that was supposed to be safe. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Maybe you decided you wouldn’t go to that extreme – actually killing yourself. Maybe you’d just cut your wrist. You try it so you can feel something besides the emptiness that consumes you. You try it to numb the feelings you do have that you can’t stand. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">One cut doesn’t do it – later you still feel the same way.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">You’re not alone.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">You, you precious child of God, you are not alone. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Both David and Jesus cried out to God, “Why have you forsaken me?” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Every day teenagers, adults, even children in this country are killing themselves because they feel so alone, and depressed, and scared, and hopeless. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">You are not alone.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Psalm 9:10 tells us that the Lord does not leave those who seek Him. That is a promise! God promises not to leave us. Never. See, you are not alone, even if you feel like you are.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I know what it feels like to feel alone. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I was 17 years old. I had the incredible opportunity to board a plane and fly to Kenya, Africa, where I’d work with Campus Crusade for three weeks. With me were eight other Americans. On our sixth day we were on our way to a school outside of Nairobi. So far we’d eaten our hearts desire of pineapple, learned that white people can’t dance, and had finally adjusted to the time difference. We stopped at a gas station on our way to the school. I was videotaping. Nothing was going on, so my teammates told me to save the battery and put the camera away. I announced to the future viewers that “Nothing’s going on, so my team wants me to turn this off.” I probably said something like, “We’ll see you later,” and pushed the off button with my thumb. As I was pushing the camera into it’s case and under my seat, windows began to slam shut. A lot of yelling in Swahili began outside the van. I looked to my left and saw a man wearing a black, leather jacket pointing a black gun in through the window at one of our team moms. Within a few seconds, four gunmen had taken control of our van and were driving us at an alarming speed away from the gas station.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">During the next thirty minutes, bags were searched, people were searched, and guns were held an inch away from heads. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">The van eventually turned into this forest. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">The grass was as high as the windows on the van. I couldn’t see over it. It was this green-yellow colored grass. The trees were becoming thicker.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I realized just about as soon as I saw the tall grass that I wasn’t coming out of this forest. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I tried to keep thoughts of torture out of my head. I repeated “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord, God Almighty, who was, and is, and is to come…” Over and over and over I said those words. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Then the van stopped. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">More yelling. The carjackers jumped out of the van. Someone yelled for us to all get on the floor. Four of us teenagers in the back of the van cramped into this tiny space in between seats, as our team nurse hovered over us in an attempt to protect us from whatever was about to happen next. I mentally prepared myself for the shooting to begin. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">More yelling, this time in English. The engine started. I sat up in time to watch the man who had searched me disappear into the tall grass with the other three men.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Our van turned around and drove out of the forest…<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I spent the next two years of my life scared. For a long time after we returned to the States I couldn’t watch much television. Commercials would come on for the evening news, which usually involved a shooting. I only watched chick-flicks and comedies. Nothing with guns, nothing with kidnapping. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">That fall I began my senior year of high school. We managed to read the most violent books and stories that semester in my AP English class, two set in Africa, another about a carjacking. We learned all about fight-or-flight in AP Psychology, and how your body responds to dangerous situations. By the time I got to calculus for fourth period, I was usually pretty worked up inside. I spent many calculus periods fighting flash-backs and calming triggers.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">The next year I began college in down town Atlanta – whose dark one way streets proved a source for triggering <i>every </i>feeling I’d felt in that van. I had flashbacks as real as this book is in your hands. In a second I was back in Africa, speeding down the pot-hole filled road, turning into the jungle.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">During those two years, I felt pretty scared and alone. My family was as supportive as they could be, but eventually I felt like they expected me to be better. I felt like everyone expected me to not have problems anymore with guns, or gas stations, or questions about Africa. I got to a point where I felt like I shouldn’t talk about my feelings anymore. I should be a pleaser, and deal with it myself. Alone.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">My heart hurt. I was scared. I was dealing with the fact that I had been violated by that man in the black jacket. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">And I believe it hurt God to watch me live in emotional pain. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">People would say to me, “Lindsay, God is in control.” That just made me mad, because that meant God let these awful things happen to me. And that was hard for me to wrestle with. “God let that man touch me? … God let that gun come so close to my head?” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Yeah, He did. But, what’s more important than that He let this awful thing happen, is that <i>He was there while it did</i>. He didn’t leave. Did He really <i>allow</i> that terrible, awful thing happen to me that put me in therapy for two years? Yes.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">The same is true for you. When those terrible things are happening to you in your home, those things you won’t tell anyone because you feel so shameful – He’s there. It breaks His heart to see you suffer. Is He letting it happen? Yes. Are you alone? No. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">When you fight with your mom, and nothing you do will make her happy, is He there? Yes. Are you alone? No.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">When you cry and throw things because you’re so upset that your dad wont stop cheating on your mom, is He there? Yes. God’s still there.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">You have to remember that while humans have been given free will to make our own choices and act out our own behaviors, God is still in control. What does that mean? That doesn’t make sense. God has the power to intervene. He has the power to stop bad things from happening. But, sometimes He chooses not to. Why?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Jesus told us in John 15 that the world will hate us (Christians). He gave us the heads up that life wasn’t going to be easy for Christians. That bad things would happen. No where in the Bible does it say that God has a wonderful plan for Christians’ lives that is full of happiness and possessions, and most of all is stress free! That’s no where in the Bible. We should not be surprised when we’re going through rough times. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">So, where have I gotten you to? I’ve pretty much acknowledged that for you, home might not be a happy place. You probably have a lot of deep hurts. You are very young, yet you have already experienced more pain that people twice your age. You might not feel like there’s anyone you can talk to about what’s going on in your life, but God is always there, because He promised us that He would be. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Now you’re saying, “But I still hurt.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">God doesn’t waste hurt. God can turn every bad thing into a good thing. I tell you the truth. Not only can He turn every bad thing into a good thing, but He does. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I remember during one of my times of feeling alone regarding Kenya stuff, my dad told me that God was probably using it to prepare me for something. He said, “Lindsay, God might be using this time to teach you to turn to Him first. There might come a time when you’ll go through something worse than Kenya, and you will physically be alone, with no one to turn to but Him.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">God will use your hurt for a good reason. I can’t tell you what it is. But it is through the hardest times in life when we tend to find ourselves closest to our Maker. Don’t keep God pushed away from you right now because you’re mad at Him for letting this bad thing happen.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">If you feel alone, cry out to Him. I pray for you right now that as you pray that you would feel His presence. God can do big things with you, and with what you’ve been experiencing. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><i><span style="font-family: helvetica;">“Where can I go from Your spirit? Or where can I flee from Your presence? If I ascend into heaven, You are there; If I make my bed in hell, behold, You are there. If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and Your right hand shall hold me.” Psalm 139: 7-12</span></i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>Warford&Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07564948182479678300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5357275222860207070.post-58899764495626309952020-09-21T10:05:00.001-07:002020-09-21T10:05:00.661-07:00Kids' Bathroom Mini-Reno<p>Who remembers which room I painted first when we moved into our house in 2019? If you guessed the kids' bathroom, you're right!</p><p>I cringe thinking about how sad that little bathroom was when we moved in. It was an old kind of sterile. Do you know what I mean? It was clean, and the walls were freshly painted white, but it still felt kind of grungy. Maybe it was the heat lamp in the popcorn ceiling? Or the newly added chrome and white pulls on the cabinets clashing with the patina'd hinges inches from them? Or all the different kinds of non-matching white? Cabinets, floor, shower/tub, ceiling, toilet, door, trim, and the counter... </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FRwHKUQJhRo/X2eh1q01vqI/AAAAAAAAB0c/dcGrG1GiAOsvBrma0P2lFbtjZRMRyEQegCLcBGAsYHQ/s1287/F7CDD6A1-2773-467C-8970-6A35F0584E7D.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1287" data-original-width="1032" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FRwHKUQJhRo/X2eh1q01vqI/AAAAAAAAB0c/dcGrG1GiAOsvBrma0P2lFbtjZRMRyEQegCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/F7CDD6A1-2773-467C-8970-6A35F0584E7D.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AOiztNFgBFk/X2eh2DCcZNI/AAAAAAAAB0g/e3ydDSqINXY9C5tw1B18G3uQWvpAY81vACLcBGAsYHQ/s828/IMG_0425.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="544" data-original-width="828" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AOiztNFgBFk/X2eh2DCcZNI/AAAAAAAAB0g/e3ydDSqINXY9C5tw1B18G3uQWvpAY81vACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_0425.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Out of all the rooms, it needed TLC the most. And it needed more than paint. But, we had just moved in, and paint was ALL that I had. I was spending all my extra money on rugs and curtains and blinds and a temporary pantry. A perfectly functional bathroom, although not-easy-to-look at, was way down on the list of where-the-money-can-go. </p><p>No problem. I had paint. Not a lot, but I had enough to make it less sad without making it dark. So, I did this:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N_rbAztBdSE/X2eiBnTFNEI/AAAAAAAAB0k/ZYw5KglF5EI2ZOrJcU3rbG_jMHQ5dMbBwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1800/46457F40-AA99-4377-817B-74D02125E78B.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1440" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N_rbAztBdSE/X2eiBnTFNEI/AAAAAAAAB0k/ZYw5KglF5EI2ZOrJcU3rbG_jMHQ5dMbBwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/46457F40-AA99-4377-817B-74D02125E78B.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V7wSVXCi59s/X2eiKjD_ORI/AAAAAAAAB08/OQYZtmfkhZM1zbYCaqll-JG9A9MTNQFSgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1800/4A0294F5-4B9A-4B3F-8D4B-73EA4E3EE5A8.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1440" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V7wSVXCi59s/X2eiKjD_ORI/AAAAAAAAB08/OQYZtmfkhZM1zbYCaqll-JG9A9MTNQFSgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/4A0294F5-4B9A-4B3F-8D4B-73EA4E3EE5A8.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Better, right?!</div><div><br /></div>Well, as the months went on we were able to give it a little more attention. My uncle replaced the air vent grate thingy on the ceiling. David replaced the light above the tub and the sink faucet / handles. I found a toilet paper holder that I could stick straight onto the wall- no tools required!<div><br /></div><div>But, every time I looked down the hall into the bathroom from our kitchen, those stripes mocked me. <i>"We're a little crooked!"</i> I didn't use a level. I just eyeballed all of my stripes. And after all the faux shiplap I'd done in other rooms in our house, I was very aware of how uneven the lines in this bathroom were. <div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UfUvEmk6Qhs/X2enLGxUq3I/AAAAAAAAB1Q/sT_LTFJTlgMCwQmm2Xwx8uKmn-iQZbqWgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_5251.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UfUvEmk6Qhs/X2enLGxUq3I/AAAAAAAAB1Q/sT_LTFJTlgMCwQmm2Xwx8uKmn-iQZbqWgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_5251.jpeg" /></a></div><div><br /><div><br /></div><div>Because I had already gotten mostly done with the master bathroom improvements (eventually I'll get it done and will share all the details), and learned a lot along the way, I knew I needed to start this bathroom with the ceiling. </div><div><br /></div><div>So I scraped it, and it was MUCH easier than the last time. Kilz'd it, for good measure, touched up a couple spots with <a href="https://amzn.to/32S9mFX" target="_blank">spackle</a>, then painted it with ceiling paint. </div><div><br /></div><div>Next I primed my walls. It took a lot to cover up those stripes! And I had to do quite a bit of <a href="https://amzn.to/32S9mFX" target="_blank">wall repair</a>. That handy-dandy stick on toilet paper holder is pure evil. Do not buy one of those things, because I'm convinced you cannot take them off of your wall without severe damage. I also had some major problems with the towel rack. But, eventually, I got it all patched up and was ready for paint. So, painted I did. <i>(And let me just say, curb-side paint pick up is just wonderful.) </i>I went with the Twinkly Green thanks to a lot of help from friends who let me poll them on which to choose. </div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ASMaY7aee10/X2en0Yrh2_I/AAAAAAAAB1o/nA8_wV6FzvwKTepneJ11AQuMjU_8QfUowCLcBGAsYHQ/61980856957__3BB0B01F-6C84-4435-B82A-FE66BBB91D2E.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="240" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ASMaY7aee10/X2en0Yrh2_I/AAAAAAAAB1o/nA8_wV6FzvwKTepneJ11AQuMjU_8QfUowCLcBGAsYHQ/61980856957__3BB0B01F-6C84-4435-B82A-FE66BBB91D2E.jpeg" width="180" /></a></div><br /></div><div>David replaced the heat-lamp / air vent contraption with an updated / non-heating-element regular light / air vent thing, which required quite a bit of work, and I got to rehab the ceiling after. </div><div><br /></div><div>Next was the cabinets. I spray painted the hardware black and antiqued the white. Who remembers the roll-top desk project? Yep- just like that! </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5pNzWS5vBIk/X2enYP3AkKI/AAAAAAAAB1U/7Yok4qgWq7c-fwoPjXQpW65xopC1lz-6gCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_5319.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5pNzWS5vBIk/X2enYP3AkKI/AAAAAAAAB1U/7Yok4qgWq7c-fwoPjXQpW65xopC1lz-6gCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_5319.jpeg" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Then I built and added the frame (with <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B082XGL21J/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=B082XGL21J&linkCode=as2&tag=warfordandw08-20&linkId=d9b762de7aabc400f8b1ff14f923c007" target="_blank">gorilla glue</a>- it's never coming off, unless the person who takes it off is dressed in the appropriate head to toe PPE).</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-snog4a5Bngw/X2enjyxAD6I/AAAAAAAAB1c/adRI_XoHSKoUS2AUxGPfSrtGzwZb-BxwQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_5394.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-snog4a5Bngw/X2enjyxAD6I/AAAAAAAAB1c/adRI_XoHSKoUS2AUxGPfSrtGzwZb-BxwQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_5394.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><div>And the combination was HORRIBLE. So, I painted the cabinet and the hinges a fresh white, and swapped all of the pulls out with the hardware from the master bathroom cabinets. </div><div><br /></div><div>Then David changed out the vanity light. I hunted and hunted and hunted for <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07GY3LBVT/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=B07GY3LBVT&linkCode=as2&tag=warfordandw08-20&linkId=2857b7fabee1e1aee5b5596c10187bcf" target="_blank">just right the light</a>, and I wasn't going to pay over $100 for it. Hunting and patience pay off!!</div><div><br /></div><div>I took down the towel rack and put little hooks up that are much more within reach for the kiddos. </div><div><br /></div><div>I hunted my house for different rugs, found two that weren't being used, and they worked GREAT. </div><div><br /></div><div>Then I spray painted the frame around the over-the-door mirror. The dark brown wasn't working with the frame around the mirror. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Lastly, I decluttered. Instead of five decorative pieces hanging from the walls, I shopped my house and chose just two. Voila!</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-5-iX0BYFv8w/X2eoLZe9pkI/AAAAAAAAB1w/NuNhijjrq1EculXSQPvul59EhvybY7QTACLcBGAsYHQ/IMG_5751.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="240" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-5-iX0BYFv8w/X2eoLZe9pkI/AAAAAAAAB1w/NuNhijjrq1EculXSQPvul59EhvybY7QTACLcBGAsYHQ/IMG_5751.jpeg" width="180" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-q6xbuEueVVI/X2eoN0Oyg-I/AAAAAAAAB10/Xsder98NMFgMhkQyjJIA4q6fBovAbA2pQCLcBGAsYHQ/IMG_5752.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="240" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-q6xbuEueVVI/X2eoN0Oyg-I/AAAAAAAAB10/Xsder98NMFgMhkQyjJIA4q6fBovAbA2pQCLcBGAsYHQ/IMG_5752.jpeg" width="180" /></a></div><div><br /></div>No more crooked lines taunting me from down the hall. No more popcorn ceiling. No more could-have-probably-been-a-fire-hazard, 1970's heat lamp <i>(which the kids actually were pretty disappointed about. Bless).</i> More light. Less stimulus from things on the wall. The kids are still confused as to why I installed three towels hooks instead of just two. One day they'll understand the rule of three's! </div></div><div><br /></div><div>I also love that it's still gender neutral, which was a constant challenge with the all of the green and white. Hence the color stain I chose for the frame. I feel like the orangeyness of it gives it a tiny woodsy/masculine touch. </div></div><div><br /></div><div>Now the big questions is do I go finish the master bathroom mini-renovation project or do I get started on a fun creative project involving a salvaged mantle? </div><div><br /></div><div>Stay tuned, and you'll see. : )</div><div><br /></div><div>Until next time, </div><div><br /></div><div><3 Lindsay</div>Warford&Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07564948182479678300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5357275222860207070.post-67560413043603842982020-09-18T07:17:00.001-07:002020-09-18T07:17:19.945-07:00Those Glasses I Wear<p>I get compliments / comments / questions about these glasses every time I wear them- whether I'm out and about or chatting about something on insta-stories. And I've got to tell you, I really do love them so much! Instead of hunting for <a href="https://amzn.to/3cmNg1r" target="_blank">the link</a> every time I get asked, <i>"Where did you get those from?"</i> I thought it would be easier to just slap it up here on the blog. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V95NDUnRWuQ/X2TAPCIlGTI/AAAAAAAAB0Q/4KrTnG5MDfMucrb5JbAwwInv5fmaBDCkQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_5688.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V95NDUnRWuQ/X2TAPCIlGTI/AAAAAAAAB0Q/4KrTnG5MDfMucrb5JbAwwInv5fmaBDCkQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_5688.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p>I got my first pair of glasses in 5th grade <i>(I sat in the back row in my English class and couldn't read the white board)</i>. I'll never forget the day I walked out of the optometrist's office with my first pair of glasses, marveling at the sight of individual leaves on the trees outside! But I've never had a pair of glasses that were so comfortable I completely forgot I was wearing them- until now.</p><p>I wear <a href="https://amzn.to/3cmNg1r" target="_blank">them</a> when I work on the computer and when it's overcast outside. These cut down on the glare not just from screens but from outside too.</p><p>Have they completely prevented headaches? No. But boy have they made a huge difference. And whenever I get around to getting a new set of prescription lenses, I'll buy another pair of <a href="https://amzn.to/3cmNg1r" target="_blank">these frames</a> to have the lenses put in. </p><p>At at $12ish a pair and the easy return options, they're definitely worth trying!</p><p>Until next time,</p><p><3 Lindsay</p><p><br /></p>Warford&Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07564948182479678300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5357275222860207070.post-7876532304884038932020-08-31T04:30:00.001-07:002020-08-31T04:30:04.668-07:00No Spend Month - How It Works (and a printable!)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OkgNElRhxyA/X0xZOz7Nu4I/AAAAAAAABzo/SZNDZCKD6j4diGzcTnelzxsMeT472mx-ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1496/no%2Bspend%2Btrack%2Bit.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1496" data-original-width="1162" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OkgNElRhxyA/X0xZOz7Nu4I/AAAAAAAABzo/SZNDZCKD6j4diGzcTnelzxsMeT472mx-ACLcBGAsYHQ/s640/no%2Bspend%2Btrack%2Bit.png" /></a></div><br /><p>Wait, did we actually make it through ANOTHER no-spend month? Yes, by the skin of our teeth, with only one day to spare, we reached our goal. </p><p>No-spend month has become a twice-a-year event in our house. January and August are our official no-spend months. And each time one rolls around, we get a lot of questions about how it works.</p><p><i>"How do you not spend money?"</i></p><p>Well, for starters, that's not what we do. We do spend money during no-spend month. What makes it a no-spend month is what we DON'T spend money on. This is an important distinction, because everyone approaches no-spend month differently. </p><p>Before we get into the "how" no-spend month works, it's actually more important to understand the "why" do one at all.</p><p>We primarily do no-spend month to kick bad spending habits that have crept in. Last year, we did no-spend month in August to help save money for a move we were about to make in September. No matter why you do it, you've got to pick a why that resonates with you, otherwise, you're probably not going to stick it out.</p><p>So, what DO we spend money on during no-spend month?</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>bills </li><li>groceries*</li><li>gas for our cars</li><li>medicine + doctors apt co-pays</li></ul><div>Everything else is extra. <i>(*We do have some guidelines for what constitutes as an extra grocery item.)</i></div><div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>eating out </li><li>clothing </li><li>starbucks</li><li>anything off amazon</li></ul></div><div>At the grocery store I don't buy individually packaged yogurt <i>(I get the big container)</i>, fancy cheese <i>(like goat cheese)</i>, desserts, any kind of bread other than sandwich bread, etc. Groceries is an area where I really focus on cutting out extras, because it's so easy to get into the habit of buying things we don't really need just out of convenience <i>(like pre-bagged chips or baby carrots for lunches)</i>. Some people will really cut costs here and basically just eat beans + rice for the whole month. We don't take it to that extreme. In fact this past month I let myself have coffee creamer, something I had given up in all previous no-spend months. </div><div><br /></div><div>We let ourselves <i>(this is for my sanity) </i>have one eat-out meal a week. Pre-COVID that meal had to be eaten AT a restaurant, could not be fast food, could not cost more than $40 for the whole family, and all four of us had to be present at the table. This go-around we opted for pizza delivery and drive through CFA but kept the budget and "all the family has to be together" rules.</div><div><br /></div><div>Lastly, we set a goal and pick a prize. Our goal was to have 30 no-spend days. <i>(We started early on July 27th.)</i> If we met our goal, the kids wanted the prize to be a stay up late movie night with popcorn, pizza, and cake. Each day, we tracked our successes <i>(and failures) </i>on a calendar we hung up on the fridge. </div><div><br /></div><div>My <b>number one tip </b>for no-spend month is if you are married, be sure you and your spouse get on the same page about no-spend month before you start. If you're both not on board with the "why" and the rules you've set for yourself, it's a lot harder. </div><div><br /></div><div>My <b>second tip</b> is make your rules manageable. I don't recommend making this an exercise in self-deprivation. Remember, we do this to kick bad habits! Or save money. </div><div><br /></div><div><i>Do I really need uncrustables for my kids? </i>No. </div><div><br /></div><div><i>Do I need that extra pair of shoes the influencer on instagram is showing me? Even if there's money in the budget for it? </i>No. </div><div><br /></div><div><i>Do we need to eat out 4 nights a week on top of 3 trips through CFA for lunch during the week? </i>No. No no no. <i>(Salt alone is a good reason why not to do that!!)</i></div><div><br /></div><div>And my <b>third tip</b> is track. Get a big fun calendar like ours or use a printable like this one. Hang it up where everyone will see it. Use stickers. Use markers. And if you have kids and you get them excited about the prize, I promise they will remind you to track, and they'll keep you accountable. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ScyHf1g_Jic/X0xYrgyi7VI/AAAAAAAABzg/bzKV5rTyR4MYblISupcKtxkwkTvMOSivgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/no%2Bspend%2Bmonth.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1535" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ScyHf1g_Jic/X0xYrgyi7VI/AAAAAAAABzg/bzKV5rTyR4MYblISupcKtxkwkTvMOSivgCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/no%2Bspend%2Bmonth.png" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Until next time,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> <3 Lindsay</div><br /><div><br /></div><p></p>Warford&Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07564948182479678300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5357275222860207070.post-52022802450244052022020-08-24T04:30:00.007-07:002020-08-24T04:30:02.253-07:00Science Lab: Candy Spine<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3z-T12tzI4g/X0GaYyu-iWI/AAAAAAAABzI/Z7pQ6ohRnwEwDiKIzFhjF23rF3_Nu1lrgCLcBGAsYHQ/s828/IMG_5306.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="816" data-original-width="828" height="404" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3z-T12tzI4g/X0GaYyu-iWI/AAAAAAAABzI/Z7pQ6ohRnwEwDiKIzFhjF23rF3_Nu1lrgCLcBGAsYHQ/w410-h404/IMG_5306.jpg" width="410" /></a></div><p>Confession: I'm a closet science nerd. My senior year of high school I electively took three science classes <i>(four if you count psychology)</i>. So, naturally, now that I'm my kids' teacher <i>(a la homeschool)</i>, I'm giddy to introduce them to the wonders of science <i>(which demonstrate the wonder of our Creator)</i>. </p><p>Our homeschool community gives us LOTS of ideas and resources for digging deeper into our weekly curriculum. When I saw the idea to make a candy spine <i>(we're learning the 4 parts of the axial skeleton this week)</i>, this hands-on learner immediately added it to our schedule, and then hit up Amazon for all the candy.</p><p><b><u>Supplies:</u></b></p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Licorice Laces <span style="font-size: small;">(We ordered <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00JVFDBU6/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=B00JVFDBU6&linkCode=as2&tag=warfordandw08-20&linkId=a48b14dfbb82213cb1c7a4a56acdba06" target="_blank">these strawberry laces</a> off Amazon. I liked how long and strong they were.)</span></li><li><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07W7FMQ9R/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=B07W7FMQ9R&linkCode=as2&tag=warfordandw08-20&linkId=c03aae16a939eceb4fb04c12cbf5cdb6" target="_blank">Hard Life Savers</a> </li><li><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00G9DJ1P2/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=B00G9DJ1P2&linkCode=as2&tag=warfordandw08-20&linkId=d11f56a29667ced8f575fa495a43d220" target="_blank">Gummy Life Savers</a></li><li>3 bowls/containers/plates</li></ul><p></p><p><b><u>Directions:</u></b></p><p></p><ol style="text-align: left;"><li>Most likely your hard life savers are going to be individually wrapped. Let your kids practice their scissor skills and let them unwrap all of the hard life savers themselves. Then have them put them in a container/bowl. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UddCc0Znq9Y/X0GT8UYpviI/AAAAAAAABx8/SqLxZ9QXdXMd55OdmLqhswV9MH1nu2FzQCLcBGAsYHQ/s4032/IMG_5291.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="410" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UddCc0Znq9Y/X0GT8UYpviI/AAAAAAAABx8/SqLxZ9QXdXMd55OdmLqhswV9MH1nu2FzQCLcBGAsYHQ/w307-h410/IMG_5291.jpeg" width="307" /></a></div><br /></li><li>Empty out your gummy life savers into another bowl and your laces into another.</li><li>Take a few of your laces and break them into two inch pieces. <i>(You'll end up breaking up more as you go, but this will get you started.)</i><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ETUq-knoo9s/X0GVC3s7NqI/AAAAAAAAByQ/22xLqBrZg0Az4HFKDiwRw1IInA_aQaB-wCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_7564.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ETUq-knoo9s/X0GVC3s7NqI/AAAAAAAAByQ/22xLqBrZg0Az4HFKDiwRw1IInA_aQaB-wCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_7564.HEIC" width="640" /></a></li><li>Depending on how long your laces are, either tie two together <i>(at their ends)</i> or fold one in half, and knot the end where they're folded. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-87BzkKaeg4U/X0GVIm2ZFsI/AAAAAAAAByU/WsOEUIwTTek3jkUOSKvLstIPv98T_59AgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_4203.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-87BzkKaeg4U/X0GVIm2ZFsI/AAAAAAAAByU/WsOEUIwTTek3jkUOSKvLstIPv98T_59AgCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_4203.HEIC" width="640" /></a></div></li><li>String the two laces through one hard life saver and slide the hard life saver down to the knot. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CtJ7kxxqeNQ/X0GUMyhbCQI/AAAAAAAAByI/KxFCqAQv_jsFBrVqU5PBUOhCHIkC9CB8wCLcBGAsYHQ/s4032/IMG_5300.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="410" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CtJ7kxxqeNQ/X0GUMyhbCQI/AAAAAAAAByI/KxFCqAQv_jsFBrVqU5PBUOhCHIkC9CB8wCLcBGAsYHQ/w307-h410/IMG_5300.jpeg" width="307" /></a></div></li><li>Then string a gummy life saver down to the knot.</li><li>Then put one of your two inch pieces in between the two laces on top of the gummy life saver. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IGMrBXElw-E/X0GYwD8c_wI/AAAAAAAABy8/wkwvTQqy1Ng8XLqkmL9VotX-rX5nUbrlQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_4849.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IGMrBXElw-E/X0GYwD8c_wI/AAAAAAAABy8/wkwvTQqy1Ng8XLqkmL9VotX-rX5nUbrlQCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_4849.HEIC" /></a></div></li><li>Repeat steps 5-7 until you run out of room!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WSEkRoFaAQM/X0GVS3MCHWI/AAAAAAAAByc/-0DlcZs8fxsUWfsF77EPer2agGh7uC6SACLcBGAsYHQ/s4032/IMG_5299.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WSEkRoFaAQM/X0GVS3MCHWI/AAAAAAAAByc/-0DlcZs8fxsUWfsF77EPer2agGh7uC6SACLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_5299.jpg" /></a></div></li><li>If your kids are older, consider making each spinal region its own color to get a little more specific. If your kids are younger, you're doing awesome if you get 10 sets on there without them eating all of the supplies. Do not feel the need to color coordinate the cervical verses the thoracic vertebrae, etc. </li></ol><div><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MWxfPg49ePQ/X0GVbHlC1AI/AAAAAAAAByk/eCm4qQNfrCk0YGTkWlLaaES8LQOdcYzpgCLcBGAsYHQ/s4032/IMG_5303.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MWxfPg49ePQ/X0GVbHlC1AI/AAAAAAAAByk/eCm4qQNfrCk0YGTkWlLaaES8LQOdcYzpgCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_5303.jpg" /></a></div></b></div><div><b><u>Lesson:</u></b></div><div><br /></div><div>Our back bone is called the spine. The spine is made up of vertebrae <i>(hard life savers)</i>. In between each vertebrae is a vertebral disc <i>(gummy life saver)</i>. <i>(Be sure to point out to your older students that only the first 23 vertebrae have discs in between them.)</i> Running up through the middle of the vertebrae and the discs is our spinal cord <i>(licorice laces)</i>. The spinal cord is made up of nerves. We call all of these parts together the spinal column. All the way up and down our spinal column, nerves <i>(two inch pieces) </i>exit to send and receive messages from the brain to the rest of the body. </div><div><br /></div><div><b><u>Big Picture Notes:</u></b></div><div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Point out how God created the different systems of our body to work together. In this example, the skeleton system works to protect the nervous system.</li><li>Remind your kids how important it is to take care of our bodies! Talk about different ways to take care of their spine:<i> </i>always wearing a seatbelt, do not pick up anything that is too big or heavy for them, when and where to do flips, summersaults, etc, eating healthy foods that make their bones strong.</li><li>Encourage your kids to feel the vertebrae on their own backs with their fingers. This will help make the connection between what they're holding in their hands <i>(candy spine) </i>with real life. </li><li>Keep it fun! Your kiddo might not remember the terms <b>vertebrae</b>, <b>spinal column</b>, or <b>vertebral discs</b> weeks from now, but hopefully they'll remember the big picture: their body is AMAZING, intricate, and was designed by a Creator who loves them and made them in His image. </li></ul></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dTUhWOqU_Q8/X0GVhDRPiOI/AAAAAAAAByo/MWC5JIZis9kH8YmYzYQ0mSYPhOF4QdPRQCLcBGAsYHQ/s4032/IMG_5305.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dTUhWOqU_Q8/X0GVhDRPiOI/AAAAAAAAByo/MWC5JIZis9kH8YmYzYQ0mSYPhOF4QdPRQCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_5305.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Until next time, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><3 Lindsay</div>Warford&Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07564948182479678300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5357275222860207070.post-40614463483732485582020-08-17T11:49:00.004-07:002020-08-17T11:49:45.844-07:00Waiting and Is Jesus Enough?<p>Waiting. Every one is waiting for something. Sometimes waiting is exciting like when you're waiting in eager anticipation for something good to arrive or happen. Sometimes waiting is nerve wracking like when you're waiting for information that will have immediate or lasting implications. Sometimes waiting is annoying, especially if your wait is caused by an inefficiency of some kind. And then, sometimes, waiting is just plain, painfully hard. </p><p>Even if you call Jesus your Savior and live your life open handed, surrendered to His will for you, and you know that our God is a God who DELIVERS us, who is WITH us, who is FOR us, and who LOVES us, it is still sometimes hard to wait on Him. There are fewer things that make my eyebrows narrow quite like Christians dismissing real, tangible suffering with a pat on the back and telling you to read your Bible some more. So if you've been on the receiving end of that pat, I've been there too. </p><p>I can't tell you how many people close to me are in <i>hard</i> seasons of waiting right now. If you're one of them you're probably thinking I'm writing about you. But I'm not, because there are so many of you!!</p><p>Waiting for direction. Waiting for a job. Waiting for meaningful and true friendships. Waiting for your forever soulmate. Waiting for the person you married to repent and come back from what it is they're doing. Waiting for a diagnosis. Waiting for a child. Waiting for restoration of your family. Waiting for the house to sell. Waiting for progress. Waiting for acceptance. Waiting for a cure. Waiting for freedom.</p><p>There is a difference in how we wait though. </p><p>There is passive waiting, which involves doing nothing. Example: waiting for the leaves to change color in the Fall. Is there anything you can do to make the leaves change color? No. There is absolutely nothing you can do to make all of the leaves on the oak tree in your yard turn from green to orangey-brown. You understand this. So, you just wait for it to happen and do absolutely nothing to expedite the process. </p><p>Some people take this approach in their waiting season. A relevant example is an election. Some people choose to keep political opinions to themselves. They do not go out and campaign, or put a bumper stick on their car, or have conversations with other people about present issues and candidates. Instead, they sit back and wait until November 4th, assuming what they think and what their one little ballot could do mean nothing. That is passive waiting. </p><p>I remember getting into a heated conversation with a fellow new nursing graduate about voting. We were in a critical care internship together, and she was all up in arms about something that had to do with public health, and I for some reason felt it necessary to point out to her that if she really cared that much about the issue she was going on and on about she'd better be showing up to the polls every election cycle. I didn't realize what a big fuss I was making about it until the day of our final exam, when one of the proctors asked me why I was so passionate about voting. To be honest, I don't remember what I said to him. I was already a puddle of nerves about the verbal exam, but I hope I said something about the privilege it is, the sacrifices that were made for it, and the power every vote has.</p><p>But what about those of us who don't just passively wait whether it's so our candidate will be elected, or for the house to sell, or reconciliation to be made, or to be granted an interview for a job? What about those of us who find ourselves in a season of waiting, but we aren't just sitting back doing nothing. We're doing "all the right things," we love and trust and serve God, but it's still not happening for us.</p><p>A mentor of mine recently reminded me that the answer is two-fold. </p><p>1. It doesn't always happen. </p><p>I'm going to say it again, because it's the hard truth.</p><p>It doesn't always happen.</p><p>What you are waiting for you might not happen.</p><p>We can pray with authority. We can trust. We can follow Biblical principles that apply to the situation, but there is no formula in the Bible that says do x, y, and z, and you'll have that plot of land you're dreaming about putting an outreach for foster children on / your prodigal child will come home / your body will conceive a child / your application to the program will be accepted. </p><p>I remember when I was a teen realizing that Jeremiah 29:11 wasn't written to people in the 21st century. I had trusted that verse to mean that no harm would ever come to me because God's plans for me were not to harm me but for a full <i>(translation in American lingo: comfortable and successful) </i>life. This realization made me dizzy. You mean I couldn't pick and choose verses out of the Bible and take them out of context and apply them to every situation in my life at my whimsy? No, Lindsay-girl, you can't.</p><p>Not too long after that, I'd be car-jacked at gun point in Africa with nine other people, and I'd better understand the connection between this two-fold answer.</p><p>Point #1 is what we're waiting for doesn't always happen. </p><p>Point #2 is BUT GOD.</p><p>But God IS. </p><p>But God LIVES. </p><p>But God LOVES. </p><p>But God, even in our darkest, deepest seasons of waiting, of barely making it to the next hour of the day, will not forsake us.</p><p>My mentor posed the question, "If NOT, is Jesus still enough?" </p><p>If whatever it is you're waiting for never happens, is Jesus enough?</p><p>The truth is, I wish it could all be comfortable down here on earth. I wish everyone had a success story. I wish nobody felt beat down or discouraged. I wish everyone really did get along. I wish abuse didn't exist. I wish people were never hungry and that children never prayed that a family would want them. </p><p>I wish we didn't have to ask the question, "Is Jesus enough?"</p><p>He is enough. And just like how your season of waiting is unique to you, how the Lord will work in and through it, is unique too. </p><p>There isn't a single situation in the Bible where the way God showed up doesn't take me by surprise. </p><p>Makes woman out of dust. </p><p>Talks though a burning bush and a donkey and out of thin air.</p><p>Transports a guy from the middle of the ocean to land literally via the belly of a big fish. </p><p>Basically the entire story of Job.</p><p>The Devil's previous position as Heaven's worship leader.</p><p>Feeds thousands of people with a few tiny sardines and a handful crackers, TWICE.</p><p>And the situations where He didn't show up, they take me by surprise too. Babies thrown into a river full of crocodiles. His own cousin's head being chopped off and put on a silver plate. The fact that He himself hung naked on a stick makes me sick to my stomach.</p><p>But God.</p><p>Even when God doesn't show up the way we want Him to, the way we expect him to, is He enough just by being who He is?</p><p>Only you can answer that question for yourself. But, I hope and pray that you find Him to be all that He is.</p><p>Until next time,</p><p><3 Lindsay </p>Warford&Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07564948182479678300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5357275222860207070.post-47494188227630155132020-07-31T05:05:00.001-07:002020-07-31T05:05:01.433-07:00The Top 6 Kid Books We Think Everyone Should Read<div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EpMsDP079-k/XyNp1WZl9DI/AAAAAAAABxE/AySeY2UMTKQ7pqnYccQV7fT9qvpiALU9gCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/The%2BTop%2B6%2BKid%2BBooks%2BWe%2BThink%2BEveryone%2BShould%2BRead.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="313" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EpMsDP079-k/XyNp1WZl9DI/AAAAAAAABxE/AySeY2UMTKQ7pqnYccQV7fT9qvpiALU9gCLcBGAsYHQ/w235-h313/The%2BTop%2B6%2BKid%2BBooks%2BWe%2BThink%2BEveryone%2BShould%2BRead.JPG" title="The Top 6 Kid Books We Think Everyone Should Read" width="235" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">You asked, so here it is: the top six kid books we love that I think everyone should read, whether they're reading them to a kid or just to themselves. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0394873343/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=0394873343&linkCode=as2&tag=warfordandw08-20&linkId=e82aaeacb10c7528aa647d6e3cd8b18f" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="778" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OS60uJEU9n8/XyMsaKWQgoI/AAAAAAAABwU/n5qY8vL6qY0WIlCtYGQ_IymFknMOA-eRQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Screen%2BShot%2B2020-07-30%2Bat%2B3.22.05%2BPM.png" width="320" /></span></a></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0394873343/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=0394873343&linkCode=as2&tag=warfordandw08-20&linkId=e82aaeacb10c7528aa647d6e3cd8b18f" target="_blank">The Berenstain Bears: Learn About Strangers</a></i></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">Main point: Never take anything from a stranger or go anywhere with a stranger.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">Teaches kids not to be fearful of strangers but to understand that some strangers do have bad intentions and that you can never be too careful. </span></div></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1942572301/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=1942572301&linkCode=as2&tag=warfordandw08-20&linkId=5c07540da960ee6932551f651d451d82" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="1306" data-original-width="1222" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zFTwUlF_7uk/XyMsgIUmqJI/AAAAAAAABwY/ZWetPONRzAIgeLW9vE-EzEh_KK7BjkB2gCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Screen%2BShot%2B2020-07-30%2Bat%2B3.21.01%2BPM.png" /></a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1942572301/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=1942572301&linkCode=as2&tag=warfordandw08-20&linkId=5c07540da960ee6932551f651d451d82" target="_blank">God Made All Of Me</a></i></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">Main point: God made all of you WONDERFUL, but some parts of you are so wonderful they're not for sharing with others.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">Teaches kids to understand safe/healthy touch, empowers them to say no when they feel uncomfortable, no matter what kind of touch it involves, and discusses the difference between keeping secrets and surprises. </span></div></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1535938188/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=1535938188&linkCode=as2&tag=warfordandw08-20&linkId=1011980f0805349ced54f96300665960" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="1438" data-original-width="1210" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F0uu7faTQCM/XyMslsFK--I/AAAAAAAABwc/QrJesKmrRZsFIudu-bza1YY7W_eRdTOLwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Screen%2BShot%2B2020-07-30%2Bat%2B3.20.33%2BPM.png" /></a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1535938188/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=1535938188&linkCode=as2&tag=warfordandw08-20&linkId=1011980f0805349ced54f96300665960" target="_blank">What Am I Feeling</a></i></span><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">Main point: A feeling is just a feeling; it doesn't have to control you.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">Teaches kids to name their feeling, own actions they may exhibit that are motivated by their feelings but are unkind and then reconcile with whomever they took their feelings out on.</span><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0891079319/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=0891079319&linkCode=as2&tag=warfordandw08-20&linkId=8aeb0fb85384d24fd10d044e10b1ff77" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="1348" data-original-width="1206" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DIBacSf7a4U/XyMsrjZHZ8I/AAAAAAAABwg/B8jUL4GeNR0jGSaBICSlE5hBPV1Z4b99QCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Screen%2BShot%2B2020-07-30%2Bat%2B3.20.07%2BPM.png" /></a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0891079319/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=0891079319&linkCode=as2&tag=warfordandw08-20&linkId=8aeb0fb85384d24fd10d044e10b1ff77" target="_blank">You Are Special</a></i></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">Main point: It doesn't matter what other people think; all that matters is what God thinks.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">Teaches kids that God made them, that He doesn't make mistakes, and addresses the authority we have to not receive negative words spoken over us.</span></div></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0997318724/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=0997318724&linkCode=as2&tag=warfordandw08-20&linkId=3c7140991d0f41da94b74b828359dffc" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="734" data-original-width="1030" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2B2c-04eySU/XyMsz6gwq_I/AAAAAAAABwo/vNMi__Oe4t8ENZqNX6iPXld7yY0D9l8egCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Screen%2BShot%2B2020-07-30%2Bat%2B3.19.27%2BPM.png" width="320" /></a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0997318724/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=0997318724&linkCode=as2&tag=warfordandw08-20&linkId=3c7140991d0f41da94b74b828359dffc" target="_blank">Good Pictures, Bad Pictures jr.</a></i></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">Main point: There are good pictures, and there are bad pictures, and bad pictures are dangerous.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">Teaches kids that pictures/images are everywhere, and while many are good, many are also bad;</span><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"> empowers them with a simple plan to follow if/when they are exposed to pornography.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/140032033X/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=140032033X&linkCode=as2&tag=warfordandw08-20&linkId=f8927113a6d5a8126ce84a7d7192c250" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="1408" data-original-width="1206" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Qwc5GqNoujg/XyMs4lmpxcI/AAAAAAAABww/VAZYXk9Obcgqt2nNJSEl8YagzorVO76bwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Screen%2BShot%2B2020-07-30%2Bat%2B3.18.44%2BPM.png" /></a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/140032033X/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=140032033X&linkCode=as2&tag=warfordandw08-20&linkId=f8927113a6d5a8126ce84a7d7192c250" target="_blank">Jesus Calling Bible Storybook</a></i></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">Main point: Jesus is speaking to us throughout every story of the Bible. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">Teaches kids who Jesus is and helps kids understand the themes of the Bible and that Our Creator desires a relationship with them. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">I can remember some stories my parents read to us as young children, and their messages have stuck with me to this day. They say you can't read enough to your kids. Let's make sure we're reading them books that will prepare them for the world they will all too soon become a force in.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">Until next time,</span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><3 Lindsay</span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: x-small;"><i>*This post does contain affiliate links, but my opinions are always my own.</i></span></div>Warford&Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07564948182479678300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5357275222860207070.post-1667716330271735272020-05-21T06:02:00.001-07:002020-05-21T06:11:22.542-07:00A time for every purposeA couple months ago, not too long after all the covid stuff started here in the States, we watched a mama robin build a nest on top of one of our gutters. We could watch her from both of the kids' bedroom windows.<br />
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It was in the perfect spot, right under an eave, in the shade, and she was a master builder. We could tell that nest was going to be SOLID. I was excited to be able to show the kids baby birds right out their window. For weeks we watched her sit, then last week she started bringing grubs back to the nest. One evening my four year old daughter and I sat watching her fly back and forth, and one of the babies stretched their neck up high enough for us to see it. My daughter wants to be a veterinarian, so spotting that baby bird eating from its mama's mouth was the equivalent to her seeing Elsa in real life.<br />
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The next night a pretty big storm rolled through. Well, a couple rounds of storms actually. And we haven't seen the mama since. Nor have we heard the babies or seen them stretch their necks up out of the nest for food. Thankfully the kids haven't been disappointed, but I was, to my surprise. Baby birds aren't my thing.<br />
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A few days ago, I sat on our deck with my laptop propped on my knees. I had a few work emails left that needed to be addressed, but I could do what I needed to and let the kids play outside at the same time. While my three year old son soared through the galaxy while swinging on his tummy on the swing set swings, my daughter hunted the yard for flowers. And then she stopped, right in the middle of a big open space of grass and stared down at the ground. Her stillness made me look up a mere second before she called out, <i>"Moooooommm. Come look at this!"</i><br />
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When I got to her, all of my <i>"be tough, mama"</i> instincts kicked in. There lay one of the baby birds. Dead.<br />
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It didn't make sense for it to be in that spot so far from the gutter where the nest was. Unless it had fallen out of its nest during one of the storms and one of the dogs had carried it over to this spot in the yard. My son was now by our side and wanted to touch the bird, so I had to give up solving the mystery then and there. I sent my daughter for one of her garden shovels, and I picked up the pooper-scooper, all the while threatening to take away my son's Avenger toys if he touched the bird while we gathered the tools.<br />
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We picked a shady spot under some crepe myrtles, dug a little hole, and buried the baby.<br />
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As I turned around from the gravesite, I told my daughter she could find some wildflowers to lay on top of the little mound, and then my heart stopped. A chipmunk. Dead. Just feet from our little birds' burial site.<br />
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What in the world was going on? The <i>"be tough, mama"</i> instincts kicked in again. I told the kids to hold on, reminded the boy what I'd do to his Thor hammer if he touched the chipmunk, and went for the BIG shovel up on the deck. I dug a little bigger hole, and we buried the chipmunk.<br />
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<i>"Come on, kids. Let's go make sure there isn't anything else in the yard that needs to be buried," </i>I said, all the while wondering what on earth had happened. My daughter started to cry while my son bounded through the yard in big, Hulk steps with his hammer.<br />
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I had to decide how to handle this. She was no stranger to animals dying as we'd already had conversations a few times about how all family dogs at some time die. But this was a little different. I could approach it as a farmer, like in Charlotte's Web, or I could take a more sensitive route.<br />
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I went with a gentle rendition of the Charlotte's Web way, more like Charlotte than the dad. My son piped up, "Everything dies! And then we get to go to Heaven!"<br />
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I tightened my hug around her shoulders and shared a little from Ecclesiastes 3 with her as we looked through our yard.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:</i><i>a time to be born and a time to die,</i><i>a time to plant and a time to uproot,</i><i>a time to kill and a time to heal,</i><i>a time to tear down and a time to build,</i><i>a time to weep and a time to laugh,</i><i>a time to mourn and a time to dance,</i><i>a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,</i><i>a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,</i><i>a time to search and a time to give up,</i><i>a time to keep and a time to throw away,</i><i>a time to tear and a time to mend, </i><i>a time to be silent and a time to speak,</i><i>a time to love and a time to hate,</i><i>a time for war and a time for peace.</i> </span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>- Ecclesiastes 3:1-8</i> </span></blockquote>
We found one more dead animal, buried it, and called it a day. It was time to give up, heal, turn on Disney+, and get dinner started.<br />
<br />
Later that evening when I closed the kids' blinds and curtains, I stared at the empty nest in the gutter. I was sad for the mama. She'd worked so hard on that nest, sat on those eggs for so long, and she had what, a few days with those babies?<br />
<br />
<i>"A time for every purpose..." </i><br />
<br />
I thought about all of my friends who've lost babies in miscarriages. Mere weeks, some only days, that they got to have time on earth with their little one inside of them. I thought about loved ones who've lost babies and children and siblings and parents.<br />
<br />
<i>"A time to die.. a time to morn... a time to heal... a time to weep..."</i><br />
<br />
I cried later that night. Not about the mama bird or the dead animals. Just about everything that's hard and uncertain right now. Our days swing like my son soaring through the galaxy. Each day we have ups and each day we have downs. Each day we find ourselves <i>"refrain(ing) from embracing," "search(ing)"</i> for direction as to what we can do and where we can go, and in some ways <i>"giv(ing) up" </i>on plans and hopes and desires for this summer. <i> </i><br />
<br />
Those of us who know Jesus have the hope only He can give us. But that doesn't mean we, believers, won't still walk through all of the times Ecclesiastes references in verses 3:1-8. And if I'm being honest, swinging through all of those feelings can be exhausting.<br />
<br />
We might not be running around keeping up with the Jones' or the rat-race like we were a few months ago, but that doesn't mean we don't need rest right now.<br />
<br />
My point? We're living through and navigating completely new experiences for any living person in our country. So, life looks and feels different than it ever has before. The hope? This is "a time." It's not forever. We don't know when this "time" will end, or necessarily what purpose it is intended to serve, but it will end. And one day we will gather, laugh, dance, and embrace all together again.<br />
<br />
Until next time,<br />
<br />
<3 LindsayWarford&Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07564948182479678300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5357275222860207070.post-55493504207307628912020-03-19T04:05:00.000-07:002020-03-19T04:05:03.961-07:00Weekday ScheduleAs if the coronavirus pandemic wasn't a roller coaster in itself, those of us figuring out how to work from home all week (or just BE at home all week) with little ones is a roller coaster of its own. In 10 seconds I can go from feeling like I'm rocking this self-isolation thing to wondering how I ever even managed to work from home with kids before now.<br />
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Then I remember we live in a routine, and that is what makes all the difference.<br />
<br />
My insta-poll inquiring whether or not my insta-fam would like to see what our daily schedule looks like came back 100% in favor of seeing it. But, before you look at it, or any schedule for that matter, remember this.... This is what works in the Warford House. It's also very fluid. On rainy or particularly cold days we can't have outdoor time. So we improvise. Just because it works for us doesn't mean it will work for you, so don't be discouraged if it doesn't.<br />
<br />
In the last week David and I decided to make a couple changes to how we do things at home.<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>We used to let the kids occasionally "picnic" in front of the TV during meals. Not anymore. Meals are eaten only at one of the tables. </li>
<li>My children had never played a video game <i>(other than the PBS Kids app when we're at the doctor) </i>until yesterday when Avery started using ABCMouse. But as for right now I'm limiting even that to 20 minutes a day, and she'll sit and do it at the beginning of Learning Time on our desktop computer. </li>
<li>Jase has decided now is the week he wants to give up naps. Of course! He still has to do quiet time in his room like Avery does. I will never surrender their daily quiet time. </li>
</ul>
<br />
If I had to pick one word to describe the following schedule it would be GROUNDING. When I feel like the day is spiraling out of control, our schedule helps me refocus. It's fluid enough to allow for all kinds of hiccups, but there's enough structure to it that I am able to have a productive day and my kids don't spend all of their waking hours in front of a screen, bored out of their mind, or nearly killing each other <i>(or the dogs)</i>.<br />
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I hope this helps, even if it gives you just one idea to make self-isolation / quarantine / working from home a little easier.<br />
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Until next time,<br />
<br />
Lindsay<br />
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<br />Warford&Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07564948182479678300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5357275222860207070.post-17614040332676965462020-03-17T11:23:00.000-07:002020-03-17T11:28:06.679-07:00W&W is BACK!<div style="text-align: center;">
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If we were sitting face to face, this conversation would start with a big hug. We'd forego all the guidelines of social distancing like the closest of friends would.<br />
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Today the kids got to leave the house for the first time in four days. The lower school my children attend prepared packets of homeschool work for us to do and scheduled a drive through over the lunch hour for us to come pick them up. Seeing the smiling faces of the teachers and faculty who have become part of our lives broke me. I'd kept the tears back when I walked up and down empty aisles at Walmart, and again at Kroger, but today my eyes filled as we waved to all of them and exchanged "hi's" and "we miss you's."</div>
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This whole thing became so much more real in that drive through.</div>
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The separation of it all. </div>
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There's so much we can endure when we band together, but the physical coming together is limited now. </div>
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Lindsay the RN understands the big picture. It's been years since I practiced in a hospital, but that doesn't mean I don't remember what it was like to be short-staffed. When not only your patients' safety was at stake, but so was yours. However, having this understanding doesn't mean there is an absence of feelings about it all. </div>
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I could tell the "isolation" was taking a toll on my 4 year old today. I met it with my own frustration at first. And then, like a shawl falling off my shoulders, I let it go, bent down, and said, "Let's hug, sweetie." She needed reassurance just like I do. That it's ok to be frustrated. It's ok to miss what was. In many ways some of us will find ourselves grieving the past as we wonder if and when things will ever return to "normal." </div>
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When I stepped away from Warford&Wife, it was out of obedience to start and focus on a new project. A project I didn't want to work on. It proved to be cathartic, and I believe the Lord used it to bless other people too. </div>
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I really wasn't ever sure if we'd meet here again. But, there's a stirring inside that says it's time to re-open this space. I honestly have only a small idea of what it will look like, but uncertain times don't call for uncertain measures. Sometimes you just have to do the thing that makes the most sense. And in this case, it's following that still, small voice. </div>
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Until next time,</div>
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<3 Lindsay</div>
Warford&Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07564948182479678300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5357275222860207070.post-47432301763816317972018-08-23T12:33:00.001-07:002018-08-23T13:00:38.772-07:00A little (very transparent) catch upWell it's been a minute since I posted anything here, now hasn't it? When I started this blog I didn't think it would be the place where I would share our most special announcements and that would be it. I started it so that far away family and friends could keep up with us a little more intimately than they do via social media, so I could have a writing outlet, and so we could encourage people in whatever way that looked like through this space. My posts don't really follow any common theme or focus, and I've tried to do that intentionally to give us freedom to share about whatever it is we feel like we need to (or want to).<br />
<br />
I've known for about a year now that eventually I would need to sit down and write this post. I also knew back then that I was no where close to being in a position to write it. But, over the last couple weeks I've felt a quiet nudge towards my laptop and this little blog.<br />
<br />
I want to preface this post with a few notes...<br />
<br />
<i>1. I've turned the comments section off on purpose. If you feel the need to comment, you can reach out to me privately. </i><br />
<i>2. I am speaking about my own experiences and no one else's. I am not making blanket claims about other women and their feelings or mental health. </i><br />
<i>3. I have an incredible support system. When I chose to let other people know about what I was walking through has absolutely nothing to do with my relationship with them, my level of respect for them, or whether or not I wanted them to walk through this journey with me. It followed no formula. </i><br />
<br />
I remember laughing at my nurse during my 6 week-postpartum appointment after Jase was born. She asked me the standard postpartum questions about my well-being, and when she asked me if I'd been experiencing any kind of "baby blues," I actually laughed. I laughed at her because sadness, depression, fatigue, any of those things were the farthest feelings from my mind.<br />
<br />
And then 2-3 weeks later, I was a sobbing puddle on my kitchen floor. I remember telling my husband in the weeks that followed, "Something is wrong with me. I don't know what it is. But, I'm not OK."<br />
<br />
I reached out to a close friend who happens to be a women's health nurse. I thought maybe my new IUD was causing me to be extra emotional. She so delicately and sensitively encouraged me that I could be experiencing a bit of postpartum depression, and it wouldn't hurt to go in and talk with my doctor.<br />
<br />
"No way," I thought. It definitely wasn't that.<br />
<br />
I read everything I could get my hands on regarding postpartum depression. Not blog post kind of stuff. Actual scientific, research publications used to educate health care professionals.<br />
<br />
I wasn't that woman.<br />
<br />
I put make up on every day.<br />
<br />
I was exercising regularly.<br />
<br />
I have an amazing support system, locally and far away.<br />
<br />
I have THE BEST husband.<br />
<br />
I was on maternity leave.<br />
<br />
Jase slept great.<br />
<br />
I love and adore my children.<br />
<br />
I wasn't this woman I kept reading about in paper after paper...<br />
<br />
Then our cousin Lucy had her car accident, and I found myself sitting in a hospital waiting room being offered the opportunity to go back and see her in her ICU room to say good-bye before they took her off life support.<br />
<br />
And I knew the tiny threads that were keeping my sanity together would disintegrate the minute I walked into her room, and then I would most likely have to be admitted myself.<br />
<br />
So I called my doctor and got an appointment for that week.<br />
<br />
As I sat there on his exam table, with Jase in my lap, my doctor sitting on his stool, and my nurse standing against the wall, I knew I wasn't the same woman they'd seen a couple months prior. The woman who laughed at the baby blues question.<br />
<br />
I told them about all the things I'd been experiencing, about the encouragement my friend had given me, and even about how David (who has a degree in psychology) had so sweetly encouraged me during one of my "episodes" that I was ok and that I was probably experiencing some postpartum.<br />
<br />
Tears were streaming down my face as I explained to my doctor that I love my children and I love my life and that I had absolutely nothing to be sad about, but something just wasn't right.<br />
<br />
Going in to see my doctor that day was step #2 to getting me to the better place that I am now.<br />
<br />
Step #1 was letting a small handful of people know how I was feeling.<br />
<br />
Step #2 was going to the doctor.<br />
<br />
Step #3 was getting on a low dose antidepressant.<br />
<br />
Step #4 was time. <br />
<br />
Somewhere in that time I did need a little med-dosage adjustment, and I started taking some probiotics that I really think are making a big difference as well.<br />
<br />
I also started talking about what I was going through with more people. Not all of them responded kindly. But, a lot of them did. And, just like David said, and just like my friend said, and just like my doctor said, I started to get better.<br />
<br />
I could get into more details about little things I've tried to focus on this past year while I've been on this journey, but I think that would require more of a blog series than a post.<br />
<br />
Depression is a hot topic right now. In fact, for that very reason I've straddled the fence on posting this. I know a lot of people are going to take what I've written here the wrong way, and I ask that you respect note #3 above.<br />
<br />
This season has taught (is teaching) me so much about transparency and not just talking about things but actually doing things. (Another post to come on this soon, I promise.) So, that's essentially what this post is.<br />
<br />
I don't want anyone to look at my social media accounts and think I have it all together, my life is perfect, and I'm some super mom / wife / goal-getter. And most importantly, I don't want moms who are sitting in those puddles like I was to think they're alone. So, here's me waving to you through your screen. Hi. I'm Lindsay, and I've been there. I don't think any less of you, and you can stop thinking less of yourself now too. You're not alone. And it's going to be ok. There are a lot more of us out here who understand exactly how you're feeling. <3Warford&Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07564948182479678300noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5357275222860207070.post-28847567073010086162017-10-04T13:21:00.001-07:002017-10-04T14:25:43.497-07:00Battle StrategyThis morning, I sat and nursed Jase in the back row of the sanctuary at Bible Study Fellowship (BSF) as our morning class began hopeful he'd fall asleep and stay asleep for the remaining 45 minutes. I couldn't help but remember those first few weeks as a brand new mom sitting with Avery as a newborn, in the back row of the sanctuary at BSF just two short years ago.<br />
<br />
So much has changed and happened since then. While I'm in familiar territory when it comes to the taking care of an infant thing, the rest of it seems incredibly uncharted, even though I'm 5 months into being the mother of 2, 2 years into being a mom, and almost 7 years into being a wife.<br />
<br />
Confession: Most days I feel defeated. I don't feel defeated all day long. But, at some point during the day, I do feel that way.<br />
<br />
I'm overwhelmed by this season. As sweet as it is. As much as I don't want it to end. It sounds like an oxymoron, I know. And, that's one of the reasons why I think it's so hard to navigate.<br />
<br />
<i>How is it possible to rise to the calling before me? </i>Shoot- it's not even before me. It's on top of me, under me, pulling my hair, in my arms, 100% enveloping me 24/7 whether it's a tiny person or a mounting to-do list of tasks.<br />
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I mess up every day. Every day I have to apologize to someone. I am constantly falling short.<br />
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<i>Why do I keep messing up? Why can't I figure this out? Why am I not capable enough?</i><br />
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Thankfully when the word "enough" enters my thoughts it's a trigger word for me to say, "That's <b>enough</b>, Enemy. Get behind me, Satan. And out of my brain and out of my house. Go, in the name of Jesus Christ."<br />
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If you don't know what triggers are, in the simplest way I can describe them, a trigger evokes the same response every time. You engage the trigger, BLANK always happens.<br />
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Well, I need triggers to remind me of my reality. Often it feels as though my reality is burp cloths and spit up and temper tantrums and clothes that don't fit and upset tummies and so on. This is part of my reality. Yes.<br />
<br />
But, the other reality I need to be reminded of is that Satan doesn't want me raising kingdom builders.<br />
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Satan wants me to focus on my physical reality and dwell on my short-comings. Satan wants for me to believe the calling I'm desperately seeking to fulfill is impossible.<br />
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Triggers used to be something I had to avoid because they'd set my PTSD off. <i>(Another story for another time.)</i><br />
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Now, I find myself needing to surround myself with them. I need triggers to remind me to look to Jesus <b>first</b> when I feel defeated. First when my heart is heavy. First when I have no idea what to do.<br />
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This morning both of my children were lying on our bed crying as I wiped noses and zipped up shoes and asked, out loud, <i>"Why are you crying??"</i> If I hadn't been committed to rocking babies while the leaders met for pre-class prayer before BSF started, I would have honestly thrown my hands up and said, <i>"Forget it. We're just staying home."</i><br />
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And Satan would have won that battle.<br />
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But, thankfully, because I remembered I had made a <b>commitment</b> that commitment triggered me to remember my commitment to my kids to shepherd them and surround them with the teachings of Jesus.<br />
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So, I'm not keeping them at home and therefore not taking them to a morning of age-speficic Bible teaching because <b>I</b> feel overwhelmed.<br />
<br />
Triggers.<br />
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Triggers to defeat the feeling of being defeated.<br />
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Triggers to encourage my spirit when my body is sore from lifting and carrying and holding little bodies all day and all night.<br />
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Triggers to remind me to stop and breathe and sometimes walk away and count to 10 and pray before I speak or act.<br />
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Triggers to remind me of my reality - that I live in a battle zone. Not a house full of toys and stuffed animals and diapers and dog hair, but a war college whose students begin as newborns.<br />
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I am raising kingdom builders. <i>Why would I ever expect for Satan to let that go unnoticed? Why would I expect him to leave me alone while I do this great and hard work? </i><br />
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For 10 years I avoided certain triggers because I knew that every time a trigger presented itself, I would experience a very unpleasant emotional response.<br />
<br />
Every time.<br />
<br />
10 years of bondage to the avoidance of triggers.<br />
<br />
I got very good at avoiding triggers.<br />
<br />
But something Satan meant for evil, is now being used for good.<br />
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Now triggers are a battle strategy instead of shackles.<br />
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So, you can take that one back to Hell with you Satan.<br />
<br />
And yes, mamas who feel like you are drowning in whatever season of motherhood it is that you find yourself in - or non-mamas who still feel like you are drowning - you are allowed to talk to him like that. Claim victory in this battle over that Enemy - after all, Jesus already has.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done."</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i> - Genesis 50:20</i></div>
Warford&Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07564948182479678300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5357275222860207070.post-42006600279680658872017-05-26T12:02:00.001-07:002017-05-26T12:11:07.718-07:00Welcome to the World, Jase!Hey there faithful readers, family, friends. Man, did we leave you hanging or what?<br />
<br />
Last I posted, we announced that the baby we were expecting was a healthy baby boy, named Jase Alton. It's been about a month since Jase made his grand debut, and here I finally am, sitting with a few minutes of quiet while the babes take their afternoon naps, ready to share with you some of the details surrounding his birthday. I'm going to be leaving a lot of details out to spare the men / queasy readers. If my female friends want to know everything, come over with cookies and some decaf coffee, and I'll share it all with you. : )<br />
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If you go back several weeks into somewhere towards the beginning of Jase's third-trimester, there was a weekend when the weather decided to warm up. That was the weekend my swelling started. I had a lot of swelling with Avery's pregnancy, but as the weeks progressed with Jase, it became obvious to all on-lookers that this swelling was different. By the time I hit 36 weeks, I was ready to send pictures of my pitting edema legs off to McGraw-Hill to be featured in medical textbooks and was feeling all kinds of very unpleasant side effects - carpal tunnel so bad I couldn't cut bananas for Avery, numb arms (yes, entire arms), a steadily increasing blood pressure, head aches, and (ahem) this funky neuro thing that happened one evening that involved me seeing disco lights....<br />
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Praise the Lord, my blood pressure never exceeded the "border line," my labs were always within normal limits, and Jase sounded fine at every check up.<br />
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Regardless, as we got closer and closer to our due date, and the edema and all its side effects got worse, I made the decision I'd sworn up and down I'd NEVER make again... To be induced.<br />
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Between Avery's birth and Jase's conception I'd switched OB practices, and my new doctor had a different plan of action for my induction, which helped lessen my opposition to it.<br />
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<i>(Right before leaving for the hospital.)</i></div>
<br />
So, on April 27th (3 days before Jase's due date), David, my mom, and I stepped off the elevators right around 7am onto the L&D floor to check in and have a baby.<br />
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When I got to our L&D room, I was greeted by the sweetest nurse who was being precepted (which means she's a new nurse to that unit) by an amazing nurse with 20+ years L&D experience. I immediately loved them both and will always be grateful they were our nurses that day. (Shout out to Alisha for putting in a good word for us!)<br />
<br />
They got things started by checking my vitals and hooking me up to the baby monitor.<br />
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How'd I look? Well, that borderline blood pressure of mine had passed the borderline, I was already having contractions, and I'd put on 2+ more pounds of fluid since the prior afternoon. Let's just say, we were all glad I was on the induction schedule. It was time to get this baby out.<br />
<br />
So, my nurses helped me get as comfy as possible with the baby monitor and IV and BP cuff while laying on my left side and started my pitocin.<br />
<br />
My doc sent word that he was on his way to break my water, so my nurses notified anesthesia that I was ready for my epidural. My doc had expected for things to go fairly quickly after he broke my water, so he had suggested if I wanted an epidural, to get it before he broke my water. My epidural didn't work 100% with Avery and remembering what I felt after being induced last time with it not working 100%, I wanted an epidural. So, even though at this point with Jase, I didn't need one, I was A-ok with following my doctor's recommendation to go ahead and get it placed.<br />
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I'm not going to go into the details of the epidural placement. Let's just say, it was a painful experience for everyone in the room. After they were done, as I was sobbing with my head buried in a towel, the anesthetist stated that mine was one of the hardest epidurals she'd placed in a very long time. Apparently my scoliosis gave them a run for their money. Long story short, even after a 2nd anesthetist came in to adjust my epidural, the only effect it had on me was a numb left thigh. I had complete mobility and sensation everywhere else.<br />
<br />
My doc arrived during the epidural placement to break my water. After giving me a good bit of time to somewhat recover from the epidural placement and get my emotions under control, he broke my water (about 10am). And it was at this point when I realized my epidural with Avery worked a WHOLE lot better than I had given it credit for!<br />
<br />
If I knew that only women would be reading this, I'd include some funny details at this point, but again I'll spare the men!<br />
<br />
So, as to be expected, things really ramped up at this point. My contractions grew stronger and got closer together. Since I technically had an epidural in my back, and a numb thigh, I knew it was pointless requesting to get out of my L&D bed so I could move around. I was too high of a fall risk. I had my bed basically set at a right angle (not really, but with pillows it was), so I could sit as straight up as possible. Everyone took turns helping me breathe through each contraction. I had a point on the wall, and my teary eyes were glued to it.<br />
<br />
Sometime during the 2nd half of the 2pm hour, my doc checked me. I was at 8cm, and he gave my nurses the go-ahead to start setting up for the delivery.<br />
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Sometime during the 3pm hour, I couldn't resist the urge to push anymore. It was time to deliver a baby (ahem, without any pain meds)! So I started pushing.<br />
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During the pushing stage, my room gradually acquired more warm bodies. I already had two nurses and my doc and a nursing student who was hanging out with one of my nurses for the afternoon. But, two more nurses and three more nursing students joined the party as well.<br />
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Not long after I started pushing, I heard my doctor tell one of the nurses that Jase was anterior facing. I quickly went into the recesses of my nursing brain files to remember what that meant... He was face up.<br />
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So, almost everyone knows you want your babies to be head down when you're delivering them, but you also want for their faces to be down or facing the mom's back, which is called posterior. Anterior is the opposite. Anterior facing babies are (ahem) a little harder to push out.<br />
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So again, I'm going to skip a lot of the details of those 45 minutes and leave it at, it was a grueling 45 minutes, but I had the BEST birth team. We all birthed Jase together!<br />
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And, eventually, out he did come, at 4:07pm. All 8lbs 5 oz of him!<br />
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The entire room was shocked! Avery was 6lb 6oz. I knew Jase was going to be bigger - it was obvious. But I was thinking more like 7lb, max. Boy oh boy! Not even my doctor saw 8lb 5oz coming!<br />
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They let me keep Jase skin to skin on my chest for about an hour and a half after he was born while I downed graham crackers with peanut butter on them and at least 3 cups worth of a decadent combo of apple and cranberry juice.<br />
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That hour and a half was so peaceful. We soaked up every bit of our new baby and praised the Lord for how healthy and perfect he was.<br />
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<i>(Daddy and Jase)</i></div>
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The next day, David brought Avery and my sister to the hospital to meet Jase. That was such a surreal moment - our first time to all be together as a family of four. Later that afternoon, once Jase passed his 24 hour tests, we were discharged and got to bring our sweet boy home.<br />
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<i>(Avery seeing Jase for the first time.)</i></div>
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The following few days were filled with all the newness a newborn brings, even if isn't the first time to have one. Jase was doing great, Avery was adjusting about as well as she possibly could at her age, David was able to take several days off of work, and we had my mom and sister here at the house humbly serving our little family.<br />
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My recovery was very different than Avery's. I think I took two Ibuprofen while at the hospital after Avery was born because my doctor said it was a good idea to take some pain medicine. With Jase, I didn't need to be encouraged to take some Ibuprofen. I was watching the clock. And then one day, about 5-6 days after he was born, I started having a new kind of pain, and I ended up in my OB's urgent care with one-week old Jase in toe.<br />
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The culprit of my pain? Kidney stones / UTI / kidney infection. UTI / kidney infection = start antibiotics and keep an eye on Jase in case he came down with thrush. Kidney stone = grin and bear it. My go-to drug that always helps me pass them is Flomax, which is a no-no for breastfeeding mamas.<br />
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Unless I wanted to pump and dump and put Jase on formula for a few days, I was going to have to pass it on my own.<br />
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It was a hard evening, not going to lie. In some ways I felt like I was having another baby, only this time I was also nursing one at the same time.<br />
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My prayer warriors, y'all blessed me so much that night. Thank you for praying as fervently as you did. Either the 2nd stone was obliterated by the Holy Spirit or the shot of apple cider vinegar I took, or I passed it without feeling it (which also would be thanks to the Holy Spirit).<br />
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Since then, I've had to take a second round of antibiotics because the first one didn't clear my infection up. Prayerfully, I'm good now.<br />
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Also since then, we were so fortunate to get to have David's parents and sister come into town after my mom and sister left. I can't thank our parents enough for everything they did to make a way for us to have a grandma in our house <i>every day</i> the first two weeks we were home with Jase.<br />
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I've also been so touched by my friends here in Arkansas. I never imagined when we moved out here 5 years ago that I would have friends like these. Women who are so generous and selfless. Women who know I have this weird issue with asking for help, so they just tell me when they're bringing us dinner and show up with it or text me every couple days to remind me that they're there and available to come help me whenever I need them. With as physically difficult as this recovery has been compounded with the kidney stone / infection, to say I'm thankful is an understatement. Grateful. Thankful. Truly touched. And humbled. Thank you, dear friends.<br />
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So, here we are. One month into life as a family of four. We're finally feeling like we're getting into our groove which I know is going to change a lot in June anyway! But, for now, we're getting the hang of it. We're learning a lot. And we're just so grateful.<br />
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I know many of you have been praying for us and our little family, and I thank you so much. We're feeling them.<br />
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To our local friends and family, don't be strangers. We're just back in the newborn trenches! We blink and 20 diaper changes later it's bedtime already. We'd love to see you and introduce you to our little guy. Just give us a ring.<br />
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To our out-of-town friends and family, we love you. We miss you. Thank you for your texts / phone calls / presents in the mail. You bless us.<br />
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Until next time, hugs and love from the Warford Family - all four of us. : )<br />
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<br />Warford&Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07564948182479678300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5357275222860207070.post-58930353758571134182016-12-06T14:47:00.000-08:002016-12-06T14:47:24.603-08:00Introducing Jase Alton Warford<div style="text-align: center;">
Oh BOY, were we thrilled to see this little guy today.</div>
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David and I are excited and incredibly humbled to share these pictures with you of our son, </div>
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Jase Alton Warford.</div>
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Jase seems eager to keep up with his busy big sister. He was very busy bouncing and rolling and flipping around all throughout our ultrasound and wasn't shy to let us know that he is in fact a boy. </div>
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If we had wanted to be surprised, it wouldn't have been possible! The very first image we saw, without the ultrasound tech even looking for it, was you know what.</div>
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We are praising the Lord this evening for a perfect appointment. Everything measures and looks just like it should. </div>
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In the last few week's David and I have been spending a lot of time in the gospel of John, and week after week we've been reminded of Jesus' primary role in our life and in the Trinity - that of our Lord and Savior. </div>
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Whenever we have discussed baby names in the last couple months, Jase was a name that kept coming back to David over and over again. When we looked up it's meaning, "the Lord is salvation," it almost felt like it was the name God had been laying on our hearts throughout our study of John. We just didn't know it yet. </div>
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It is our prayer that Jase would come to love and desire to serve our Lord at a young age and that he would point others to Jesus, Savior to all. </div>
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Alton is David's middle name, his father's middle name, and his grandfather's middle name. We thought we'd keep the tradition going. </div>
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While we know full well that Avery really doesn't know what's going on, we love that she does point to my growing stomach every now and then and say, "Bay-bay." We also know that she is going to be a great big sister. Her affection for the dogs, her dollies, and those she's close with will surely spread over towards her baby brother. </div>
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Our due date is still April 30th, 2017. Hopefully, we'll manage to get a couple updates out to y'all before then. </div>
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In the meantime, as always, thank you for all of your love, support, and prayers. To our family and friends around the globe, we love you and are so glad to share our news with you.</div>
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- David & Lindsay</div>
Warford&Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07564948182479678300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5357275222860207070.post-25625532587441903212016-10-16T08:43:00.000-07:002016-10-16T08:43:40.229-07:00Adding another pumpkin to our patch!We have some news....!<br />
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We are humbled and grateful to announce that we are expecting Baby #2 April 30, 2017!</div>
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Hence one of the big reasons I haven't updated you on life's happenings like I promised I would in my last post. While the all-day-sickness with Baby #2 hasn't been nearly as bad as it was with Avery, I've still been functioning on mostly a priority level basis. </div>
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So, let's back up a little. Way back. To Labor Day weekend. The weekend of Avery's 1 year old birthday party. It was such a special time celebrating the first year of life of our precious, spirited, sweet little one in our very own home with so many family members present.</div>
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That morning, David, Paul (my brother), and I ran to Kroger to pick up a few last minute things for the party. Well, I had been experiencing some nausea that week while running around town with my mom, who'd come in early to help get ready for the party. I, like I typically do all things, attributed the nausea to anything else. </div>
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"It's probably just because I'm tired." </div>
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"I didn't eat enough today."</div>
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"Maybe it's a little virus."</div>
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Oh, and on top of the nausea, my milk dried up that week too, but of course I attributed that to not eating enough and Avery self-weening. <i>(This is actually a <b>very</b> cool story that I'll be sharing later this month over at Creatingagreatday.com. I'll post the link to FB when it's published.) </i></div>
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Well, as I was about to lay down on the floor at Kroger in front of the floral desk trying to not pass out, David looked at me and said, "Lindsay, this is not normal."</div>
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We fetched a bottle of water and pressed on to party time. </div>
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I felt like a pretty wimpy hostess with the waves coming and going. Thankfully, everyone still seemed to have a good time, and most importantly, Avery had a good time. </div>
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After everyone had left, and my sweet family had cleaned up our entire house, we took the rest of the evening easy and put Avery down early.</div>
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The next morning, I couldn't have felt better. I was up before everyone. I even mopped the floor, ran to Kroger, and to a local donut shop to pick up sustenance for some of my out of town family members who'd be helping David seal our deck later that morning. </div>
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While cruising through Kroger, I passed the pharmacy and saw the pregnancy tests on the wall. And then I stopped, David's look and comment from yesterday repeated in my head. I grabbed the cheapest one, tossed it in my basket, checked out, and headed to the donut shop. </div>
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When I got home, David and I sat down to enjoy a little breakfast. The sausage, egg, and cheese croissant I had ordered for myself was not going down as easily as I had thought it would. The waves of nausea returned. When David asked me what was wrong, and I told him I was feeling a little nauseous, his response was pretty priceless... "Lindsay, the last time this happened, Avery happened."</div>
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I told him I'd bought a pregnancy test that morning, and since I wasn't getting anywhere with the croissant, headed to our bathroom. </div>
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Well, there was no waiting 90 seconds like the instructions said. The results were instantaneous. </div>
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We were pregnant!</div>
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Praise be to God! Another baby!</div>
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And He, in all His infinite sovereignty, gave us another gift that day and the following. Because our parents and siblings were in town for the birthday party, we got to tell all of them in person our special news. <i>(Except sweet Erin, David's sister, since she was due back at work later that day and was already at the airport by the time I was struggling with that croissant. Thank goodness for FaceTime; we still got to share with her face to face the following day!)</i></div>
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Because I had been nursing Avery when we conceived, we had no way of knowing how far along we were in the pregnancy. <i>(So, yes ladies, in case you didn't know, you can get pregnant while nursing!)</i> We were absolutely blown away at our ultrasound appointment a week and a half ago to find out we were already 10+ weeks along! And, another praise, thus far baby looks great. </div>
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We took Avery with us to our appointment and into the ultrasound suite. It was so fun watching our littlest baby flag his/her arm and Avery reply with an enthusiastic wave back. </div>
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To answer a few questions...</div>
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Will we find out the baby's gender? Yes, but not until closer to Christmas.</div>
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Do we have a preference? Just a healthy baby. : )</div>
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Do we have a feeling as to what the baby is? David's thinking boy, and I go back and forth!</div>
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How far apart will Avery and Baby #2 be? 19 months</div>
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We are so excited to finally be able to share our family's news with you. And as always, thank you for your prayers. </div>
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Until next time,</div>
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Lindsay</div>
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<i>"Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows." James 1:17</i></div>
Warford&Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07564948182479678300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5357275222860207070.post-82074005287256132452016-07-17T19:31:00.004-07:002016-07-17T19:40:57.334-07:00Catching Up<div style="text-align: justify;">
I find myself with an hour of quiet, during the last bit of daylight, all to myself. My long list of things to do involves nothing absolutely pressing. And with it being too late to exercise (otherwise I'll never fall asleep when I try to), I have the opportunity at this moment to choose to do absolutely whatever I want for the next hour. And I have chosen you, dear readers, whom I have neglected for the past 7 months. : ) Hello. I've missed you. The following is my attempt at catching you up on the last 7 months. It is fairly raw, and no where near as polished as my posts for you normally are, but in a sense, it kind of reflects where I am these days. Raw, efficient, no-nonsence, grateful, tired, in love, and possibly more dry-humored that ever.</div>
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If you follow me on Facebook or Instagram, you've been able to keep up with me a lot better than I've kept up with you. If you don't, then you might not know that back in March we bought our first home and moved to another town right outside of Little Rock. It's a very cute little city that we live in. At times I feel like I'm at Seaside, Florida meets Silverthorne, Colorado. You'll have to come visit to see what I mean. The first week in this new house was the first time I felt 100% at peace living here in Arkansas, to be completely honest. My prayer is that we will be good stewards of this blessing and that we will leave this city / community / street better than the way we found it. </div>
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In the past 7 months we've learned a lot about ear infections and baby asthma and essential oils and sleep habits and home ownership and time management and emotional management and other people and ourselves and each other. </div>
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David has completely blown me away. I have only ever seen a couple other men work with the same diligence, integrity, and humility that he demonstrates. </div>
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My Maker has poured a supernatural amount of strength into me each morning and then each evening as I put our little one to sleep. Just in the last week she has consistently started only waking once to two times during the night. (Insert clapping hands emoji.)</div>
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Honestly, I know we're doing things better now; we've kicked some bad sleep habits and used some sleep training with her. But, I really think it has more to do with her just feeling better. The sweet thing teethed her entire 9th month of life. That 8th tooth moved at a glacial pace. Also, we haven't had an ear infection for so long I would have to look at Instagram and count the days backwards to figure out when she had that last ear washing to tell you how long it's been. So, for now, there are no ear infections, no asthma flare-ups, and no teeth coming in, so she's eating better (which is a whole other thing in itself) which I know has to be helping her sleep better. And this, in turn, helps us sleep better. (Praise the Lord!) </div>
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She free stands now. And she "talks" to the dogs. We bought her a pusher-walker thing over the weekend, and she took to it like a tick on a hound dog. She flips the little things that move around on the front and bounces and twists and moves her hands to the songs.</div>
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She loves to laugh. </div>
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She loves music. She always has. </div>
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She loves books and turning the pages all by herself. </div>
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Somehow my little baby turned into a toddler all within the course of a couple weeks.</div>
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A couple weeks ago she was barely eating solid food. (Honestly. I'm telling you, it was a whole thing getting her to eat solid foods.) Now she eats more at dinner than I do. </div>
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This morning she got into the fireplace and got soot all over her hands and around her mouth. David and I were laughing about it as I sat her in the sink to wash her off, and she looked at me with a smile, and I saw David's face in that smile. It completely took my breath away. </div>
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David and I are not touchy people. When we take the love languages tests "touch" is always very low for both of us. Ask my family- I've never been a "hugger." </div>
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She loves to hug. She is so affectionate. She hugs her dollies and her stuffed animals, and I just melt every time she hugs my neck. I am now a touch person because my daughter is a touch person. I have grown into it. </div>
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I try not to worry every night when I put her to sleep about what might happen tomorrow. I have to pray about it immediately otherwise we'd never leave our house. What is happening in our world and in our country right now... Satan wants us to be scared. He wants us to stay in our houses. But I refuse to give him that. I lived long enough in fear. So I tell him to go back to Hell and leave my mind alone.</div>
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I've asked God a lot of WHY questions in the past 7 months. Sometimes He gives me a response, and sometimes He doesn't. And at both times I'm left asking Him to find me faithful. </div>
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To find me a good steward. </div>
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To find me a good and faithful steward. </div>
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And to give me strength. </div>
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Because I cannot do it all, be it all, know it all, or have it all. </div>
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And that has been a dry piece of humble pie to swallow. </div>
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But, gratefully, I've swallowed it. Because God has been doing a renovation of our hearts and minds here in the Warford house the last 7 months. We are no where near being done. In fact, in the big scheme of things we might only be on the back end of demo day, but I am grateful for the work He is doing here. </div>
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I feel as though in these last couple weeks we finished one chapter of our story and are moving into a new one. And I'm excited about this chapter. Hopefully, I'll be able to check in with you and share more with you about what is going on at the Warford house during this one. </div>
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Until then, </div>
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Lindsay </div>
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<br />Warford&Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07564948182479678300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5357275222860207070.post-62933068218095292942015-12-22T08:57:00.001-08:002015-12-22T08:57:07.982-08:00All I Need...<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cQuhmj-l-ug/VnmA4r3fFsI/AAAAAAAABP8/Kd6vYO7O_BQ/s640/blogger-image-896040887.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cQuhmj-l-ug/VnmA4r3fFsI/AAAAAAAABP8/Kd6vYO7O_BQ/s640/blogger-image-896040887.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I have had more "ah-ha moments"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">In the past 3.5 months than perhaps in my entire life. No exaggeration. Every day it's, "So this is why my mom friends do / are _____," or "That's why my mom did ______," or "That's why they make _____." </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Those are about other people, but I've had countless about myself. They've been tough waters to navigate, not gonna lie. Learning about yourself and fielding off Satan's lies about yourself can border one another. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">This morning, God finally blessed me with perhaps the biggest "ah-ha moment" yet. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">"You're too focused on you." </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">And YOU doesn't just mean Lindsay, it means Lindsay's list of things to do (doesn't matter if they all include doing things for other people or just the baby even), Lindsay's goals (no matter how noble), and Lindsay's desires (even if they're for other people).</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I strive to be the Proverbs 31 woman every day. Every day. But one thing I can guarantee is that she did not become the woman she is without a daily heart to heart with her Maker. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">And that means it went both ways<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">. Not just, "Oh Lord help me be a better wife, a better mom, a better business owner, a better friend. Thank you for the blessings in our life. Please continue to bestow them upon us." No, there was a, "Speak to me, Lord." And then she stopped talking and just listened.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">In the hustle and bustle of new motherhood, time to just sit and listen is incredibly hard to come by for this go-go girl wearing many hats. I'm grateful God finally just interjected- "Hello! Stop. It's time to stop. I've got a few things to say to you, child."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">And stop and listen I did. Right there on the bedroom floor while my baby looked right back up at me. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I find it absolutely overwhelming- this relationship I have with my Maker. Because if this was any other relationship, I would have given up on ME a long time ago. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Then I look down at my baby, sleeping in my arms, and I get it a little bit more. How many times would she have to mess up and break my heart before I would stop pining for an intimate relationship with her? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I can only imagine the magnitude of Mary's feelings each time as she peered down into the face of her little baby. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">What a place... The love a mother has for her child. The love our Maker has for His Son. The love our Maker has for us.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Can you imagine looking into that space? Not just in the stable, but en route to and while they lived in Egypt after He was born. All of these precious moments you have with your baby being enveloped by His own love for you as your Savior. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I look down at my daughter and wonder, "<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">How can this baby I'm holding ever love me more than I love her?"</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">And then I get God's love for me a little bit more.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">And I'm reminded that a cat nap, a cup of coffee, a snack, crossing another item off my list of things to do, achieving a goal, alone time with my husband, fellowship with girlfriends, seeing my family.... None of these things, even if they're all lumped perfectly together will be enough. The only thing that will truly sustain me, truly meet all of my needs, is <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Jesus. In all I do, He must be my primary focus. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">"It's so elementary..." I wrote in my prayer journal this morning. You'd think after 20+ years of following Christ I wouldn't be having one of these basic "ah-ha moments" this morning. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">My baby stirs and stretches and drifts back to sleep, and I realize getting back to basics is exactly where God wanted me to be this morning. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><i>As a new parent, did you find yourself with "ah-ha moments" around every corner? Please share in the comment section below.</i> 💗</font></div>Warford&Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07564948182479678300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5357275222860207070.post-68331686916315334112015-10-31T15:01:00.002-07:002015-10-31T15:01:42.446-07:00DependenceThis morning I walked into Kohl's with nothing but an umbrella and my purse, and it felt so strange. No baby, no stroller, no baby carrier, no diaper bag. I felt so incomplete. Thankfully, I knew Avery was perfectly safe and warm and cozy at home with David, away from the rain and the wind I was traversing through to run errands. <div>
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She is such an extension of me right now- so still fully dependent on my care (especially since she isn't taking a bottle). And I love it. I love that intimacy. It convicts my spirit as I realize this is the same intimacy God desires with us - 100% dependency on Him. "Cry out to Him," has taken on a whole new meaning. When my daughter "cries out," I run to her, I pick her up and hold her against me and repeat over and over again, "It's ok. I'm here. Mommy's here. I've got you."</div>
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Is that not God's heart for his children as well? So much so that He gave His only child as a sacrifice so there would be no separation between Him and me? So that when I cry out, He can see me? He can say to me, "I'm here. I've got you." </div>
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I get it in a whole new way. In the quiet of the night, when it's just me and Avery nursing at 2am, I get to sit and rock and meditate on things like this. It's the only time when I feel like I really have time to process all of the feelings and thoughts I have these days. </div>
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We know about all of the wonderful things breastfeeding does for baby and mom, short and long term, but one thing that you won't find on any list of "pros to breastfeeding" is that it forces a busy-natured woman like me to sit and be still with my baby. It forces us to work together. Avery doesn't latch well if there's a lot of noise around, or if I'm stressed. She nurses best when it's quiet, and I'm relaxed. Thus far, some of the sweetest moments I've had with Avery are at 2am when she's in my arms before she latches. </div>
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1 Corinthians 3 randomly kept popping up in front of me this past week. And, as I read it each time, I was reminded of God's perfect design and His heart for Avery. The first few verses that refer to breastmilk aren't about God's timing, but the Lord used them to remind me of the gift I have been given in getting to breastfeed my baby, to stay home with her, and to be the one that runs to her each time she cries. God's desire is that there will come a day when she won't depend on me 100%. God's heart for Avery is that she would come to depend on Him 100%. </div>
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So, during the 2am feedings, that is one of the many prayers I speak over our little one while remembering He desires that same level of intimacy with me as well. </div>
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As much as I like to think I can do it all on my own, I learned really quickly after we came home from the hospital that I couldn't. And as much as I wanted David to be able to meet every need of mine so I could meet every need of her's, that's not God's design either. </div>
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It's amazing how something so small can teach you so much in just 7 short weeks. </div>
Warford&Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07564948182479678300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5357275222860207070.post-43861961145311732842015-09-23T07:37:00.003-07:002015-09-23T07:37:52.919-07:00Avery's Debut<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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She's here!! And our hearts couldn't be more filled with love and gratefulness for our sweet angel!<br />
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It was two weeks ago yesterday when David and I eagerly waited in that little exam room for our OB to check my "progress." We were a day past her due date and the "false" labor was still coming and going - it even sent us to L&D a little over a week before - only to be sent home a couple hours later.<br />
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I never in my wildest dreams thought I'd go past a due date. On Labor Day (her due date) I told David and my mom, "I feel like my body just doesn't want to go through labor." And in a way, I was right. My uterus had been cooperating with all those "false" contractions, but my cervix, well, it was behaving "unfavorably." No progress in 5 weeks led my very conservative doctor to suggest going ahead and inducing. So, Tuesday night, we checked into L&D.<br />
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The actual "inducement" was the most painful part of my labor and delivery! I was grateful my doctor chose to go with the foley catheter inducement method (google it if you want to know what that entails) because I wanted to avoid taking as many medications as possible, but aye yai yai --- let's just say, having that thing put in is not a pleasant experience! But, it worked. 7 hours later, my nurse checked me (dilated to 4ish cm at this point) and told me she was getting ready to hang my pitocin. The pain was escalating to more than I could handle, and I remembered enough from my OB rotation in nursing school to have a good idea of how things were going to progress once she hung that pitocin - the speed of my already slow labor would slow down even more while the contractions would get stronger.<br />
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I had my mind made up at our first maternity appointment, and it was one of the first things I told my doctor when we discussed my "birth plan." Absolutely no narcotics. And no epidural. My reasons for each were my personal reasons; he respected them, and David respected them. Nevertheless, with tears in my eyes, at about 6am, I told my nurse I was ready for an epidural, and bless her sweet heart, she pulled that CNA out of another room to come bring me relief as soon as possible. When I saw his face, I was immediately relieved. I'd worked with him when I worked a couple floors down on pre-op, and he was one of the "good ones." I felt the Lord's quiet whisper reminding me of His sovereignty.<br />
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The epidural definitely didn't take away all of the pain. In fact, I required a couple bumps of extra fancy medicine through it during the next 12 hours to keep it manageable. That's right - 12 more hours. That "unfavorable" cervix of mine continued to take it's sweet time dilating. Sometime during the 6pm hour, I finally made it to 10 cm, and it was time to start pushing. That was by far the most memorable and sweetest part of the entire labor. Having David at my head helping me lift up into a crunch position, my mom supporting a leg/foot counting out my pushes, and a sweet sister in Christ (who'd been my stellar nurse all day) staying late to support me... It was beautiful.<br />
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Then, at 7:33pm, Avery made her debut into the world. I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw her head full of dark hair - I had secretly hoped she would be born with a head full of dark hair. And there she was, my little brunette, perfect in every way.<br />
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After everything got cleaned up, and it was just the three of us plus our night nurse, real life began real fast. After Avery's bath, our night nurse left the room and brought another nurse back with her to assess Avery in her bassinet. I knew that look they had on their faces - it was the look a nurse gets when the patient looks ok but the monitor doesn't. Avery's heart rate was low, a whole lot lower than normal range for a newborn. Thankfully, she was neurologically responsive and maintaining her blood oxygen saturation at normal levels. The nurses called NICU, and one of their nurses came over to assess her. The NICU nurse gave her "ok" for Avery to head over to mother-baby with us, so across the hall we went.<br />
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The next morning, Avery had an EKG which reflected an irregularity in her heart's rhythm. Both the pediatrician and NICU's cardiologist agreed on a plan to monitor Avery's heart for 48 hours. We had an awesome nurse that first morning on mother-baby who made a plan with me for monitoring Avery in our room. Being a nurse definitely came in handy when it came to ensuring the monitoring process was adhered to exactly as we had originally established it. So, during the following 48 hours, in between receiving visitors, cordially greeting hospital staff who came in and out of our room, David having to leave to spend a little pre-orientation time at his new job (which he would be starting on Monday) we checked her heart rate and oxygen level every 4 hours... and prayed.<br />
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Saturday morning, the doctors came in early, probably because there was a Razorback game here in Little Rock that afternoon that they wanted to get to or at least home for. Avery was taken for her EKG, and the pediatrician came to deliver the good news- the irregularity in her rhythm was gone. She was cleared to go home. (Praise the Lord!) Still, 11 days later, it brings tears to my eyes - God is so good.<br />
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We were beyond blessed to get to have my mom stay with us until Wednesday. I don't think David or I have words to adequately express how grateful we were for her and the many ways she served and blessed the three of us in that first week of Avery's life.<br />
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Now, we're falling into a rhythm - it is far from a "schedule," but we'll take it! We appreciate all of the texts/voicemails/FB messages/emails. I know David has done a much better job at returning them then I have. It means so much knowing that we have so many people, near and far, thinking about and praying for our little family. We also want to thank everyone who got their TDAP and flu shots before Avery was born. Thank you for helping us keep her healthy! Doctor's orders are to keep Avery away from crowds until her 2 month check up (standard protocol for our pediatrician's office), so we'll be keeping things quiet at mostly at home until then.<br />
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Honestly, I'm grateful for the extra rules we have to follow right now - I've been on driving restrictions since we left the hospital (they end today) - because they (and my sweet mom) remind me, the go-go-go girl, that now isn't the time to try to jump back into my busy life even when most of today's society thinks otherwise. That it's ok to only get one thing done in a day. Because seriously, taking care of a newborn involves getting LOTS of things done when you're nursing, changing diapers, rocking, bathing, wiping eyes with clogged tear ducts, starting tummy time, keeping up with mittens, feeding yourself, etc. Now, and for several more weeks, it's time to let my body heal, time to enjoy this fleeting chapter of my daughter's life called "the newborn phase," time to rock and cuddle and enjoy every baby sound, even the cries that turn into screams at 1am.<br />
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What a precious two weeks it's been - the most precious two weeks of our life thus far.<br />
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Praise be to the Lord who has blessed us so abundantly.<br />
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<i>"One generation shall praise your works to another, and shall declare your mighty acts." Psalm 145:4</i>Warford&Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07564948182479678300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5357275222860207070.post-76173423923890310312015-08-31T16:49:00.002-07:002015-08-31T16:49:15.459-07:00Still Cooking - 39 Weeks<i>Prodromal labor??</i><br />
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My pregnant brain couldn't access the far back files from nursing school's OB class to recall that term.<br />
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By the time we walked into our 38 week appointment, I'd gone through 4 days of irregular contractions. After telling my doctor all about them and him doing his check of my cervix, his diagnosis of <i>prodromal labor</i> didn't sound like something I was going to like the definition to. And I didn't. For the 99% of us who don't know what that is, it's <i>false labor</i>, or if you want to be naively optimistic, <i>pre-labor</i>. Some people sweetly call it <i>practice labor</i>, but it isn't. In fact, it's no indication that you'll start real labor anytime soon.<br />
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So, David, Mom, and I left the office with his words echoing in our ears, <i>"You might go into labor in a couple hours, in a couple days, or I'll see you Monday at your appointment." </i><br />
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Two days later, the <i>practice contractions</i> got really strong and more frequent. It was a full moon that day, so everyone had their fingers crossed that I'd get to experience the phenomenon of full moons bringing on labor. By the time dinner was over, I was only a few contractions short of my doctor's standard for when to head into the hospital, and they were only getting more intense and closer together.<br />
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We made the decision to go into the hospital to be checked out. After a few hours on the fetal monitor and walking the halls of L&D, the diagnosis came, <i>"You might be in early labor. We're going to send you home, but we might see you back in a couple hours. Or it could be in a couple days or a couple weeks."</i> The nurse unstrapped me from the monitor, and David went to get the car while Mom and I walked down to the front doors of the hospital.<br />
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On the drive home, I was grateful we had made the decision to go in. At least we knew Avery was ok and where we stood, even if it was exactly in the same place that we had a few days prior at our 38 week appointment. But, even with that grateful perspective, my spirit wondered why we were going through prodromal labor at all.<br />
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<i>What are you trying to teach me, Lord? I trust that you make good out of our suffering. Right now, I don't see what good could possibly come from us having to endure false labor for so long? I'm ready to learn whatever it is. </i><br />
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And like taking the lid off of a water container, I felt myself open up to receive whatever it was the Lord was wanting to teach me.<br />
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The next morning I woke up feeling great. I had slept all the way through the night not waking up once. <i>(It's been months since that happened!) </i>I came downstairs to find my sweet husband enjoying a cup of coffee with the dogs at his feet.<br />
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<i>"Want to go out for waffles?"</i> I asked him with a big smile.<br />
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<i>"Maybe. But, I think you need to check on your mom. I don't think she feels well."</i><br />
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I went back upstairs, and sure enough, Mom was experiencing the worst migraine of her life. After a couple hours, I made the call to take her into the emergency department as she only appeared to be getting worse.<br />
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While texts flooded in from my dad and siblings, all concerned that I might go into labor right there in the ER from the stress of the situation, I knew exactly why Avery hadn't come yet.<br />
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The day before I had voiced the words, <i>"I'm just over it,"</i> to my mom. Incredibly uncomfortable contractions that do nothing are not only unpleasant, but they wear you out too. At least with real labor you know they're getting you closer to meeting your baby. It's a fact, these do nothing but hurt. In that moment of honesty, the Lord's voice spoke quietly and steadily to my spirit.<br />
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<i>"I know when she is going to be born. And the day I choose for her to be born is the day I want for her to be born. It is better than the day you want. Her birthday will be significant for purposes in her future that you cannot foresee, but I already have."</i><br />
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As I stood there in the little ER room, clamping my mom's bag of IV fluids to save her IV access, the reality of the Lord's sovereignty poured over me like a warm bath. Of course He knows the best day for my daughter to be born. And part of that timeline includes when it's best <b><i>not</i></b> for her to be born! If she had been born the night before while David and I walked the halls of L&D, I wouldn't have been able to help take care of my mom the following day. Would He have provided someone else to take care of her? Of course. But, on August 30th, 2015, being able to focus 100% on my mother's care and well-being was something I was meant to do, without a newborn.<br />
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This morning my contractions picked back up again and off we went to our scheduled 39 week appointment. The doctor checked me, and I hadn't progressed at all since Saturday night, so we scheduled our next appointment and headed home. Unlike the last two trips we'd made home from that medical campus, David and I both felt an incredible abundance of peace wash over us. What the Lord has for us and our daughter is far better than anything we want for ourselves, including my pregnancy symptoms, no matter what, or how uncomfortable, they may be.<br />
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While women are in these last few weeks of pregnancy, often you'll hear things like, <i>"The baby still has some cooking to do!"</i> or <i>"She's just not ready to come out yet."</i> I agree with those statements, but I also think that sometimes the parents still have some <i>cooking to do</i> before it's time for them to hold their little one. And, in our case, David and I did a good bit of our <i>cooking</i> over the weekend while poor Mom had to serve as the sacrifice. I can't help but wonder if His point would have hit home so clearly if it had been anyone but her who I was covering in blankets in that tiny ER room.<br />
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Now as I sit here with swollen feet propped up and Braxton-Hicks contractions wrapping around my abdomen, I thank the Lord for not only His sovereignty, but His grace and strength, and that Mom was 100% back to normal when she woke up this morning. : )<br />
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Until the real contractions come, or my water breaks, we'll just keep on cooking... all three of us until the Lord says we're ready. Warford&Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07564948182479678300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5357275222860207070.post-10652713183878211892015-08-13T11:41:00.004-07:002015-08-14T08:42:47.690-07:00A Pregnant PauseThe nursery is ready all donned in pink and white and brown with splashes of baby blue and soft yellow here and there. Every rocking device and diaper and blanket has found it's place. The suitcase is packed and nestled near the door. The car seat installed and soft, pink silky wraps cover the straps that will go across our little girl's shoulders.<br />
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I remember Christmas morning feeling so surreal. Really I couldn't wrap my brain around it - the fact that a little life was living inside of me. These days it's a lot easier to comprehend when she's showing off her ninja skills. David laughed the other day as she rolled around and commented, "The guy who wrote <i>Alien</i> must have done it while his wife was pregnant." Since then I've described her giant rolling movements as "Alien Baby." Then there are other days when I know she's nestled in nice and cramped and cozy, and I think about how desperately I want for her to feel as warm and secure and safe when she's out here as she is in there. Parental instincts seem to be kicking in much stronger for me and David now. It makes me wonder how much we'll change once she's born.<br />
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The dogs are definitely primed and ready. Sperry's new "spot" is right in front of the front door while I work in my studio adjacent to it. He loves being the protector. Bowen's new "spot" is right behind my chair. Bowen comes over to smell my stomach a couple times a day now. David's grandmother has a theory that dogs can hear babies. I guess the retriever in Bowen makes his ears better than Sperry's. It's amazing how you can tell that they know what's going on. Whether they fully realize what's going to happen when she comes home is a different story, but for now they know that mama is extra special and not alone.<br />
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I have my moments, like most of yesterday, when I am so ready for her to come and so ready to not be "great" with child anymore. I'm ready to hold her and look into her face and watch her daddy do the same. And then there are moments like right now when I just want to press "pause" and soak in as much as I possibly can of this pregnant season.<br />
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It's been such a whirlwind. I feel like the past two weeks have been a fuzzy blur that we're just now resurfacing out of. Getting ready for the bar took a lot out of both of us. Taking the bar took a lot out of us- even though only one of us had to actually take it! The heat has taken a lot out of both of us. We just now feel like we're getting back to a quasi normal state sprinkled with Braxton-Hicks contractions and swollen feet. And it's a very special place.<br />
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We're about to leave for our 36.5 week appointment, and there's a part of me that knows this quiet place we've found could change as soon as my OB walks into our exam room. So, I'm pausing and soaking it in. The roller coaster of it all that started Christmas morning the instant I stood in the bathroom I'd used every morning growing up and stared at that little stick that said "Pregnant."<br />
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<i>"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens."</i> Ecclesiastes 3:1<br />
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Right now, in these next five minutes, it's my time to pause, to be still, to be grateful, and to soak in the wonder of this season we're about to finish. What a blessing to have been graced with it and all that it's been.Warford&Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07564948182479678300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5357275222860207070.post-59627101835358677452015-07-02T09:03:00.003-07:002015-07-02T09:03:51.005-07:00Look away beyond the blue...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JJ_fVscjDJc/VZVLVYNSIyI/AAAAAAAABLY/Njw3Pi1yKdE/s1600/IMG_3902.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JJ_fVscjDJc/VZVLVYNSIyI/AAAAAAAABLY/Njw3Pi1yKdE/s320/IMG_3902.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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This picture was taken for all of my faithful Warford&Wife readers whom I have been neglecting the past month. We really enjoyed our 2nd trimester. When my OB told me at my 15 week appointment that I was now in the 'honeymoon trimester' I didn't really understand. But, now that I'm well into the 3rd I do! That 2nd trimester was fun: no sickness, more energy, feeling baby girl moving more and more every day, looking cute in maternity clothes. The 3rd trimester feels a whole lot more like the 1st, only without the nausea <i>(PTL!)</i>.<br />
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Being in the 3rd is harder mostly because I'm having trouble keeping my blood sugar up, so I have to really think about everything I eat and eat more frequently and not get overheated or move around too fast... It's just another bundle of adjustments. Being heavier is a huge change too! I have some joint pain in my right foot which makes me limp a little bit sometimes <i>(joint pain is a totally normal prego symptom related to the extra weight I'm carrying)</i>. It's really weird to have something wrong with my right leg because my <a href="http://warfordandwife.blogspot.com/2012/11/lindsays-knee.html">left was the 'bum leg' for so long</a>.<br />
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But I'll tell you what, every time I feel her move I don't care about any of these little symptoms. <i>(And I do mean that when I say 'little' - compared to other women I know, the hard parts of this pregnancy don't even compare!)</i> I'm so grateful to have a job that let's me work from home where I can manage all of my symptoms in the best way possible which keeps me and her as healthy as we can be while she continues to grow for another several weeks.<br />
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I've been working through a check list of things to get done before she arrives. The list now is very short which makes me laugh because I know that there are a million things that probably should be on the list that aren't. After David takes the bar <i>(in 4 weeks!)</i> I know we'll both be able to sit down and take care of any last minute important things. But, for now, it's been nice to just kind of take it a thing at a time a week at a time, especially while I balance work and my <a href="http://www.marykay.com/lwarford">Mary Kay business</a> and this whole blood sugar thing.<br />
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I've noticed that since I started really preparing for Avery's arrival, I've been tending to think more about parenting than figuring out the basic day to day stuff.<br />
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This past week has been my most emotional of the entire pregnancy. An anniversary last week prompted me to process some feelings about this world that I needed to before bringing Avery into it. Friends made decisions that weighed heavy on my heart. Unpleasant family dynamics that are the way they are strictly because of one person's sin force boundaries that I wish didn't have to be raised. Sometimes I wonder how I'll answer questions Avery might ask me about the world and the way it is. And, really, after I think about it, I realize the answer to every hard question is the same.... We live in a fallen world. No one here is perfect - not even the church. That's why we need Jesus, and that's why we so anxiously await His return.<br />
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I remember a year after that trip I took to Kenya we had a team anniversary gathering. I looked at our team leader, Mr. Mike, and told him that I would get on that airplane with him again and go through the whole trip and that whole terrible first year after again if, knowing everything I knew right then, I was given the choice to not go on the trip. I would do it because I saw how much the Lord had used it for His glory in just one short year. Now 10 years later, I look back over the past 10 years, and I realize just how much I've learned from that experience. Empathy for others with PTSD or who maybe don't have PTSD but still went through a violent and/or traumatic experience, an unnerving sympathy for those who are trafficked, the understanding that happy on the outside does not mean joy and peace on the inside just like the understanding that having joy and peace on the inside doesn't mean you can't also experience paralyzing fear.<br />
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Those are big takeaways that the Lord has been able to use through me to minister to others, but I have to tell you, the biggest take away I have is very simple - and that's that no one is perfect. Nothing is perfect. No mission trip, church leader, church body, person, family unit, company, or even at times a decision is perfect. People will disappoint you, because they're people. My husband whom I love and respect with all of my being disappoints me some days. And y'all, I disappoint him!!! And when I disappoint you, or someone else disappoints me, the first thing we should remember is why, and that's because of sin. Is that an excuse to continue on disappointing and sinning, because we live in a fallen world and are born with a sinful nature? Absolutely not. We have been given the Word of God for correction, and there are people in my life who should speak with the authority the Holy Spirit gives them to call out my sin when I choose to grieve the Holy Spirit by continuing to walk in it.<br />
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When I think about all of this, figuring out how to strip cloth diapers or getting that changing table put together or making sure the nursery is arranged just-so, those to-do list items don't even compare to the burden on my heart that Avery would learn from me and David how desperately she needs Jesus.<br />
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My mom sang this song to us growing up that has been playing over and over in my head this past week. My prayer for our daughter is that she would come to understand this at a very early age, that she would understand that it's ok that this world isn't perfect, because there's a place that He has prepared for her that is. While we live down here on this imperfect world, it's only for a very short time during which we will make the most of it and will seek to introduce others to the love, perfection, and salvation that we receive through Jesus Christ.<br />
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<i>This world is not my home </i><br />
<i>I'm just a-passing through. </i><br />
<i>My troubles are laid out </i><br />
<i>somewhere beyond the blue. </i><br />
<i>The angels beckon me from Heaven's open door </i><br />
<i>and I can't feel at home </i><br />
<i>in this world anymore. </i><br />
<i>Oh Lord, you know, I have no friend like you. </i><br />
<i>If Heaven's not my home, </i><br />
<i>then Lord what would I do? </i><br />
<i>The angels beckon me from Heaven's open door </i><br />
<i>and I can't feel at home in this world anymore.</i><br />
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<i>I've got a home in glory land that outshines the sun.</i><br />
<i>I've got a home in glory land that outshines the sun.</i><br />
<i>I've got a home in glory land that outshines the sun,</i><br />
<i>Look away beyond the blue, blue, blue, blue.</i><br />
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<i>I took Jesus as my Savior</i><br />
<i>You take Him too.</i><br />
<i>I took Jesus as my Savior </i><br />
<i>You take Him too.</i><br />
<i>I took Jesus as my Savior</i><br />
<i>You take Him too.</i><br />
<i>Look away beyond the blue...</i>Warford&Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07564948182479678300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5357275222860207070.post-34977237067304914682015-05-31T19:27:00.001-07:002015-05-31T19:27:16.879-07:00David and Lindsay's Tips for Doing Law School Well - TogetherI wish I could remember everything the dean said word for word .... There was "by the power vested in me" and "confer" and "degrees" and "Arkansas" ... And then, "You may now move your tassel..." The last time I had a feeling similar to this moment was when the NCLEX (nursing boards) results came out, and I had passed. <div>
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"We're done," I whispered. </div>
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Three years of hard work, sacrifice, change, and dedication all for one purpose were over. Granted, we still have the bar to take and pass. But we don't have law school professors anymore or papers or late night classes or grades or last minute assignments given by first year, adjunct professors...</div>
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Sitting here in our second home in Arkansas with Avery Lynne kicking excitedly inside my growing tummy, Sperry laying under my propped up feet, Bowen playing solo with a toy, and David on the computer in the next room, I would so love to give Lindsay three years ago a hug and tell her it was all going to be okay and that she wouldn't believe how fast it would all feel by the time it was done. </div>
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The truth is, it really did go by quickly. Last week, we got to take a week off and spend time with our families in Auburn and Atlanta before David's bar prep classes began. On our very funny drive, stopping every hour and half for me to walk and keep good circulation going, David and I spent some time reflecting on how we've changed and what we've learned since we made the long drive from Atlanta to Central Arkansas a little over three years ago. By the time we were done, we'd compiled a short list of tips for "doing law school well," and I thought they might be worth sharing. Of course, since we moved out of state for law school, our list includes advice for 1. couples who 2. relocated to a new city for school. Who knows, maybe some other young couple, whether they're moving for law school or any other doctorate degree, might find them helpful as well.</div>
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So, here they are: "David & Lindsay's Tips for Doing Law School Well - TOGETHER"</div>
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<b>1. Go into it with the right mindset: Faith first, marriage second, law school third.</b> Law school trumps pretty much everything except your relationship with the Lord and your marriage. As his wife, you have to not only understand that, but you need to support it 100%. There will be a lot of people those three years, including family members, who won't totally get why you have to live with this 100% commitment. But, your commitment to it will significantly affirm your husband on those weeks, especially finals week, when there is no other choice but to keep his nose in his books. </div>
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<b>2. Take advantage of your breaks. </b>During the semester, and especially during finals week, you have to say "No" to a lot of things. So on your breaks, it's time to say (and plan for) YESes!! Getting out of town on our breaks was one of the best things to help us mentally reset and recharge for the next haul. We were so blessed by our parents who took us on a few vacations during law school, but we were also able to take a few of our own by ourselves. Some were more elaborate like spending our anniversary in NYC and others were short and quick like one night in Dallas, TX to have dinner with friends. Either way, just getting out of town was always worth the time and expense when it came to our emotional well being. </div>
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<b>3. Work. </b>It doesn't sound like a whole lot of fun, but you both should work while he's in school. Encourage him to apply for every clerkship/internship there is. The experience and networking is priceless for your future. And even if the work you choose to do is just selling homemade headbands on Etsy, it will provide a constructive outlet for the extra time that you used to spend with your spouse that will bring extra income into your home. (Money is tight while you're in law school. You'll love the extra few dollars to put towards date nights or those weekend getaways.)</div>
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<b>4. Help with school where you can. </b>It might take awhile for you to figure out the best way for you to help him with his studies. We tried me helping David with notecards one semester, and it was not pleasant for either of us! But, what we did find that worked well for us was me editing his papers and just letting him talk through cases he was learning about in school. For you, it might be ordering the books on his book list for the new semester off Amazon for a little cheaper than it would be at the school's bookstore. Find what works best for y'all and do what you can.</div>
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<b>5. Attend all social / networking events that he wants for you to accompany him to.</b> If your husband is anything like mine, he doesn't jump for joy when there's a party to attend. But, there will be functions that he should go to during law school, and if he wants for you to go with him, make every effort to be there. It's important to start networking as soon as possible, and you can bring more to the party than a little eye candy. Go support your man's career with your graceful presence. Behind every great man there's a great woman - be that woman! You'll end up making friends with the other great women who are there doing the same for their hubbies too!</div>
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<b>6. Keep a family calendar. </b>Your husband is keeping up with A LOT between his class schedule and assignments, and then even more when he starts working. Keeping events he needs to know about / attend up to date on a family calendar (i.e. iCalendar) will help him manage his time and keep surprises (and stress) to a minimum. Encourage him to keep an up to date school / work calendar so you can schedule both of your free time around his school / work schedule. </div>
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<b>7. Share the load.</b> While it's helpful if you help him with a lot of the little things (i.e. keeping food in the house, filling prescriptions), let him manage the home stuff that he is good at or is typically his responsibility, like yard work or paying the bills. It helps maintain some normalcy for him and prevents you from taking on too much. Just because he's in school doesn't mean he has an out for everything. You're a team and every aspect of those three years should be a team effort. </div>
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<b>8. Plug into something edifying where you can make new, likeminded friends. </b>This is especially important if you moved cities/states like we did. He's going to be making new friends of his own at school. You need to make new friends of your own too! But, they MUST be likeminded women. It might take looking into a few different places to find them, but they do exist wherever it is you've moved to. And if you find yourself running with a non-affirming circle of friends, cut ties and move on. You don't have space these three years for friends who will not lift you up and give you wise counsel. </div>
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<b>9. Encourage balance.</b> Your hubby is going to need his downtime - time to just shut his brain off 100%. Let him! Encourage him to find a physical outlet to accomplish this aside from just watching a football game. Whether it's playing with the dogs, volunteering as a boy's baseball coach, buying a couple bikes to ride, or taking a walk after dinner, the physical activity will be so good for him physically and emotionally after a long day of sitting in class. </div>
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<b>10. Get the basics established before classes start. </b>If you move for school, it's really important to get both of you established as soon as possible with the basics - a family doctor, OB/GYN, hair dresser, dentist, etc. Getting "home" for your annual isn't realistic, and if you or he get sick mid-semester, it's a whole lot easier to go see a family doctor you're established with than take a trip the minute-clinic (which aren't available in all towns anyway). </div>
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And to the young wife who is reading this, guess what pretty lady, these three years really will go by fast. Before you know it, you'll be just like me, sitting in an auditorium holding your breath as they drape this black and purple hood over your husband's shoulders. Yeah, you won't do these three years perfectly. And in those moments when you realize how short you've fallen, turn to your Maker and receive the grace and edification He is always so faithful to bestow upon us. Grow and bloom more and more into the wife He is creating you to be - the beautiful, humble, strong, and courageous woman who will stand beside that great man. </div>
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<i>"A wife of noble character who can find? She is worth far more than rubies. Her husband has full confidence in her and lacks nothing of value. She brings him good, not harm, all the days of her life." Proverbs 31:10-12</i></div>
Warford&Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07564948182479678300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5357275222860207070.post-9460428561461408232015-04-22T20:32:00.002-07:002015-04-22T20:32:58.936-07:00Halfway ThereI sat back and thought about it today. With the exception of school, there aren't really a lot of moments in life when you know you're at the half way point. You don't always know when chapters of your life are going to start or end, so how, when you are half way through a chapter, would you know that you're at half way?<br />
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Getting to Avery's 20th week of gestation this week has been pretty surreal. Last week was so emotional - my birthday, finding out she's a girl <i>(that took a couple days to really process! I was 100% expecting that ultrasound tech to tell us we were having a boy!)</i>, among other things. This week, hitting that 20 week mark and knowing that we've already finished half of the pregnancy is shocking. There were weeks in that first trimester that I thought would never end. Now I'm wishing there was some gear I could shift into to slow things down!<br />
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And then there are moments like today when she's kicking up a storm, and I so look forward to her being out here where other people can enjoy her company as much as I already am. <i>(Please not for at least 18 more weeks though, baby girl!!)</i><br />
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Everyone so sweetly asks how I'm feeling, and aside from the lower than usual energy reserves, I'm feeling really good. I can feel the muscles in my abdomen stretching more again this week like they did when I first started really "showing." And, my poor skinny feet like to swell up on me instantly when I wear anything with a heal.<br />
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I think about that scene in 'Into the Woods' when the Baker's Wife gets pregnant and you see her go from a flat belly to full term in 5 seconds and sit in awe of God's design for life itself. How wonderful it is that we have these 40ish weeks to prepare for the new life that's about to come out into the world and not merely a day!<br />
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Now am I like some moms-to-be enrolling in every class at the local hospital or birthing center or reading every piece of literature I can get my hands on to prepare for labor and delivery and newborns? Hardly! Other moms look at me aghast when I answer some of their questions about my plans for the next 20 weeks. <i>"She doesn't have a clue,"</i> has got to be the overarching thought running through their minds. That's okay. They're entitled to their thoughts, and I appreciate them keeping those thoughts to themselves.<br />
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The truth is I feel like this pregnancy has mellowed my personality a lot. When my family came to spend Easter weekend with us, my sister Katie agreed - and who better to testify to a change in my personality than the woman I shared a room with for 13+ years! Some days I know I'm functioning under baby brain, and other days I hope this more laid back Lindsay sticks around after Avery gets out here.<br />
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Again, I sit in awe of God's creation... How wonderful is it to have this time to grow and develop in areas of my life personally before I step into this next chapter of my life?<br />
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Time to step more into my identity in Christ above all else.<br />
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Time to evaluate whether my life truly follows a faith first, family second, career third priority level.<br />
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Time to support my husband as the wife he needs while he finishes this massively exhausting chapter of his life and steps into an even more intense chapter called "Bar Prep."<br />
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Time to really become a better listener.<br />
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Time to master being more present in the present.<br />
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Time to accomplish goals.<br />
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Getting ready for a baby should consist of more than figuring out what kind of birthing technique I'll use or what kind of baby wipes we'll purchase after she's born - getting ready for a baby should encompass a lot more prayer and personal reflection as we prepare to become parents.<br />
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The time you have while being pregnant should change you in some way. I don't think the Lord designed pregnancy to last for 40 weeks just for the baby's growth and development...<br />
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I hear people say all the time, <i>"Where did they get 40 from? How did the doctors figure out if you count from this date out 40 weeks that's when a baby usually comes?"</i> Well, I'm sure they covered that in my OB class in nursing school, but I don't remember the answer. But I did just recently notice the significance of average gestation being 40 weeks - it's 40. Read the Old Testament and you'll see what I mean. 40 days and 40 years are all over the place in the Old Testament - go read it. God working in a time frame of 40 is just His way. So, why wouldn't gestation last 40 weeks? I just love that.<br />
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And I love that He's using these 40 weeks to do more than just carefully craft Avery while she grows and develops inside of me. I love that He's using these 40 weeks to mold my heart and grow my spirit in ways that I never imagined He would.<br />
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So here's to being halfway there and to expecting great things ahead for this next half of the chapter.Warford&Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07564948182479678300noreply@blogger.com0