JT Lives, but I think you already knew that???

Four little girls and I stood on the front porch of a neighbor’s house. Nightgowns. Wet hair. Bare feet. I barely recall my own feet beginning to feel prickly from the temperatures. But, the most prominent memory I have is standing there not knowing where JT was. Smoke was pouring out every window. Glass was shattering. Flames were climbing the walls. I watched helplessly.

I prayed fervently that the Lord would allow my husband to survive the fire. As smoke billowed out the broken windows, I could hear more explosions from the back of the house. What I didn’t know at the time was that the kitchen fire had blown out the bay windows, eradicated the deck and sent several kitchen items on a projectile path into the back yard (finding our engraved wedding server in the wooded section of our lot was a blessing). The kitchen fire also jumped up the back side of the house and moved into the attic. With fire above and below, the heat caused the room in between (Kaitlyn’s) to spontaneously combust.

Meanwhile, I am pleading with the Lord and debating coming back into the house to find my husband. I am straining to see him anywhere, and the girls are beginning to sense the desperation in my voice as I cry out to the Lord. Just like a dramatic take from a movie, I see the front door open wide and something fly out onto the lawn. It was as if the whole scene was in slow motion. Seeing the colors that were on the ground, I realize that JT has thrown my scrapbook photo albums outside. That means he went into the smoke to rescue those pictures. My heart overflows with gratefulness that JT was alive! At that moment I also recognize that those photo albums are nothing compared to the family I have been given. Every tangible item in our house is eternally worthless. And God breaks my heart for ever considering those things as valuable.

To backtrack just for a second, JT had waited to make sure we were all out of the house. Then, he had the presence of mind (bless him) to turn off the gas on the fireplace and the gas on the grill located on the back deck. When he went upstairs, the house was already beginning to fill with smoke. After grabbing the photo albums, he dashed back to the steps but had to feel along the wall to find them. He couldn’t see one single step but since he had walked up them a few hundred times before, he knew how far down it would be. He jumped as hard and as far as he could. His shoulder hit the wall at the bottom of the steps (thus, the rotator cuff surgery years later). He was able to get out with smoke inhalation and a messed up shoulder only…praise God Almighty!

The details begin to get foggy at this point because the girls were still crying and screaming. I do remember trying to process what needed to happen as quickly as possible but my brain kept stopping and starting in random places. I just needed the Lord to calm my spirit. And He did. I looked across the neighbor’s yard into my own surreal dream. My house was burning to the ground. No firetrucks had arrived. My husband was on his knees in the driveway with his hands lifted to the Father. I KNEW what he was saying, and he confirmed it later. “The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.” Amen and amen.

The fire truck arrived and I do not even recall where the girls were at this point. Were they on the porch with me still or inside with our neighbors (that we barely knew)? I’ll have to ask them. Twenty-six minutes after the call was placed, the fire department arrived at our home. Now, at the time I was more than a little upset that it took so long for the arrival of the emergency personnel. The security system company had called, I had called, three sets of neighbors had called. But now, I can tell you this with assurance….it was God’s plan that they arrived when they did. It allowed our house to burn all the way with no hope of salvaging any of it. That was God indeed.

Through the Fire

After posting pictures of our fire from ten years ago, I was suddenly struck by the notion that I’ve never written about this event that changed our lives. In fact, I've shared details with only a few people. I've talked about it plenty but the details have always been hazy. And so, today, that changes. This make take a few posts as I’m not quite sure how it’s going to develop...

It was a beautiful, cold Saturday in January of 2005. Kaitlyn had just turned eight years old the month prior, and Madison was a whopping five years old. We had lived in the house for 2 1/2 years and were finally in a rhythm with homeschooling a second grader and kindergartner. Sure, the room where tackled academics each day could have doubled as a closet, but it was perfect for us! We had been at our church (The Church at Brook Hills) for four years, and we were content with where God had us!

Only one little issue….nightmares had awoken Kaitlyn for several weeks with the thought of a fire destroying our home. Each time, we had reassured her and hugged her tightly. The child was known to sleepwalk and sleeptalk, but this was different. The screaming in the middle of the night was enough to frighten anyone…especially a parent in deep sleep! Then, one night, I had the same dream. It was as clear as anything I’ve ever seen, and I relayed the details to JT the next day as we were driving in the car.

JT’s question was fairly nonchalant, “If our house did burn down, what would you want out of the house?” Without question I wanted the scrapbooks that contained all of the girls’ baby pictures. And conveniently (or perhaps not), those books were located in the guest room closet which was the furtherest room in the house from the front door.

And, as a side note, I had just cleaned every closet, room, cabinet and drawer in the house in preparation for a yard sale. My hands had touched it all, and I was giddy to be getting rid of so much stuff. This little bit of knowledge would come in handy later with the insurance company.

The girls had friends who were spending the night that day. I was a little proud that the four of them had sat down earlier to make a schedule for their plans. They were trying to maximize their time together. To my delight they made a list on paper with times and activities...only colored markers could've made it better. So, in good old fashioned ingenuity, they worked backwards from bedtime to a movie they had chosen to dinner and baths. Thus the reason that they were taking baths at 3:30 in the afternoon.

At their ages it was easiest and most effective if I brushed out the tangles, so they took turns trampling down the steps into my lap. Straight haired kids went first because they were the fastest! Madison was the third girl to plop into my chair, and I took my time brushing out her curly locks. Meanwhile, JT had fired up the grill for hamburgers and placed a pot of oil on the stovetop on very low heat in order to cook fries. Brownies were in the oven, and the smell was delightful.

Backing up, I need to tell you that the stove had superheated prior to January 29, 2005. Once JT was cooking and one of the back eyes had produced a small fire. I recall that I was brave enough to run into the living room, scream at my brother Daniel to go help and then did nothing. Such courage, I know. What we didn’t know at the time was that this particular stove had a history of superheating elements.

Now, back to the day at hand. I sent Madison downstairs to help her daddy blow up air mattresses. I specifically remember that Madi Grace (that’s what we called her at the time until a few years later when she insisted on being called the sophisticated Madison) ran into the kitchen, retrieved some cleaning wipes and whisked past me to the basement. As she went down the stairs, I heard a loud boom from the kitchen. My first thought was that Madi had jumped down the bottom few steps. But, then my brain kicked in and realized that the sound was from the kitchen.

I set Kaitlyn out of my lap and went in the dining room which was right next to the kitchen. As I entered the room, I looked into the bay window at the end of the kitchen and saw the reflection of the fire on the stovetop. I saw smoke and KNEW that this was it. Our house was going to burn to the ground. No doubts whatsoever.

As I exited the dining room, JT had bounded up the steps and met me. I told him that the stove was on fire and he instructed me to get the kids out.

I grabbed the cordless phone and began screaming for the girls to come downstairs. They later told me that they only heard Kaitlyn scream from the front porch. She was yelling their names and telling them to get out of the house. I will never forget the pitch of her voice or the desperation in her shrieks.

It was 33º outside and none of us had shoes on our feet. We didn’t care. I herded the girls through the yard and tried to call 911 at the same time. Our security system had already captured our phone line and I couldn’t get through.

Four little girls and I stood on the front porch of a neighbor’s house. All blonde heads. Wet hair. Nightgowns. Bare feet. I recall my own feet being numb from the temperatures and my heart feeling the same from the reality before me. But, the most prominent memory I have is standing there not knowing where JT was. Smoke was pouring out every window. Glass was shattering. Flames were climbing the walls. I watched helplessly.

Stressed or Overwhelmed? Just EAT!

During a brief conversation with a friend on Facebook this week, she told me that she is an emotional eater. Wow...that immediately got my attention as I am one too.

Here's the problem with that...I am a female, so my emotions can be all over the place at any given time. I can be happy and sad in the same few seconds. Overwhelmed and content, stressed and relaxed, confused and clear-headed....no matter what the emotion, I want to eat.

Second problem...what I want to eat is NEVER healthy. I want bread with butter (lots of it), pizza covered with cheese, chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, brownies, and so much more.

So, who created me and the feelings that go with me? The Creator of the Universe. Yet, he commands us to "take every thought captive" and to be self-controlled. He demands that we take care of the temple He has given us. Yet, my flesh desires the very opposite of His statutes! And doesn't He tell us that too? Isaiah 55:8-9 says, "For my thoughts are not your thoughts,neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth,so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts."

Just this week I have been reminded of the difficulty of controlling my thoughts. When I run or exercise, I just want to quit pretty quickly (about 5 minutes into it). I think of every excuse under the sun. Even with the best intentions of how hard to push myself and what will be accomplished, I can easily dismiss those goals within a few minutes of starting. Yet, God uses the Holy Spirit to remind me of His promises, and I trudge on. I cannot tell you that I do it with a heart of contentment or joy. In fact, it's just the opposite.

But, something inside of me changes slowly (way too slowly for my liking) as I run a few more minutes. Or I make it a mile without stopping. Or I choose a healthy food over my desires. And He is honored when I choose Him over me. Every second of every day, it is a fight to glorify Him more than myself. A fight.

You may be struggling with something different, and you find yourself in a battle of your own. Don't give up my friend. One foot in front of the other. Breathe in, breathe out. Rely on Him alone. He is all we need.

A Week of the Unexpecteds

It's been two weeks since I've posted, and well, I have good reasons..or at least one. JT had knee surgery this past Monday (the 12th), and we were up early and ready to go. He had torn his meniscus at some point this summer and just kept running in spite of the pain. The ability to bear the pain decreased as time went on, yet he was still able to run a half marathon in November. The month of December brought us to the realization that a surgery was inevitable.

When the doctor came out of the operation, he told me that this was the worst case scenario for JT. While we were hoping he would be able to begin rehab immediately, it was not to be so. He is not allowed to bear any weight on his left leg for a month. Do you know what that means in man terminology? It means FOREVER AND EVER AMEN! Yes, it does.

What was my first thought? I wonder if JT can just sleep in the car while I stop at the store on the way home and buy ice cream and Whoppers and Laffy Taffy and brownie mix and anything else chocolate I can find. I wanted to pitch my neatly organized menu for the week and just eat whatever was available. And exercise...well, who has time for that when you have to take care of a recovering adult along with four other kids (the oldest is babysitting across town for a week and is unavailable to be a driver here). So, giving up was my main option.

But God, in all of His great goodness and patience with me, quieted my heart and mind on the way home. There's no need to go crazy because things didn't go as planned. I still need to eat healthy, drink plenty of water and stick to the exercise plan. And so I did. And I have. And I will continue to do so.

He is a God of consistency. He is always faithful to His great promises. He never fails. And He never will. And He can be trusted. I know that. I believe that. I will live it.

Your prayers and encouragement mean more to me than I can communicate adequately on this blog. I cherish you all.

Humiliation ALERT

Well, this is embarrassing, humiliating and disappointing all wrapped up into one statement: I have failed miserably.

Over the past year I have managed to generously pack on 30 pounds that I had lost. My harsh realization came the last weekend in November as we were running a half marathon. I knew I wasn’t fully prepared. And clearly, I was NOT. It took me 15 minutes LONGER than the last time I ran it. And, I was so mad at myself by the end of it that I couldn’t even relish in the fact that I had finished it.

Here’s the facts:

My exercise has been consistent in running 4-5 days a week with some cross-training thrown in for good measure.
My eating has been horrendous….Little Debbie snack cakes, biscuits with apple butter, chocolate chips, ice cream…you name it, I’ve claimed it.
My study of God’s Word about health issues has been non-existent. I’ve danced around those passages gladly while ignoring them willingly.


So, what do I do now? I start over. I REMEMBER….what God has already taught me and shown me along the way. REMEMBER, REMEMBER, REMEMBER!!!!

And, here’s the plan to get there:

1. Reread Made to Crave and study the Scriptures intently in regard to our physical well-being.
2. Set goals for the next two years concerning weight, clothing sizes, and running.
3. Hire an online running coach to help me reach my goals in 2015/2016.
4. Sign up for races to help keep goals in sight.
5. Stick to the healthy eating plan that we already know works and do not deviate from it. We know that we are WEAK in this arena and will need help.
6. Blog about the weekly/monthly progress to make sure that we are held accountable in a public forum.

With that being said, I weighed 184.4 when I stepped on the scale yesterday (that was December 1st). I am 5’6 so that’s overweight. My goal is to get back to 150-155.

I cannot think of anything more humiliating or transparent or scary to post right now other than that.

PS I originally wrote this blogpost on December 2nd but we've been so swamped during December that I didn't post it. In the past month, I've already hired a running coach, signed up for a 5K this month and lost 9 lbs....progress!

Remember, remember, remember

It is easy to forget. Too easy.

It’s even easier to look the other way. And act like nothing outside of our own little worlds is happening.

We have all done it. Flipped the channel on the tv to see starving children in Africa. Quickly changed the channel as that is not something I want to see right now. What about the starving pets in the world? I’m not an animal person but even that gets to me. Cue the sad music, the hungry people/dogs, a narrator with a deep voice….give your money to stop the hunger.

I am guilty as charged. Change the channel, flip the station, ignore the ads. To think of others is sometimes a bother to our personal agenda.

On our recent trip a friend recommended this sermon: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tso1L5fpoKs. And IT HAS MESSED ME UP AGAIN. It’s an hour long, but God will use it in your life to renew your love for people. I needed that.

It is easy for me to plan and organize a trip and then get caught up in all the logistics. But, that’s not what Jesus taught us. He showed us how to love like He loves.

Do we truly care that children are being abused verbally, physically and sexually every day? Do I cry for the women who are sold into prostitution in my nation? Do you mourn for the lost of the world?

If your answer is no, and my answer to that question has been “no” during multiple seasons in my life, what do you do?

First, we pray that God would give us a heart for His people. Pray specifically for a love that can only come from Him.

Second, find out the name of a person who is suffering. Print a picture of the person and begin to seek the Father on her behalf. Knowing a name makes it hard to forget the situation.

Third, go. Go to the people who are dying to hear the Gospel and those who are suffering daily. Hold the hurt child, share the Gospel with the lost, listen to the dying….

Please don’t forget. They need you to be the hands and feet of Christ.

But God....

Yesterday was orphan Sunday in churches across the United States. I almost forgot. It’s easy to forget these days. With the schedule of a ministry, five kids and homeschool, I forget my name sometimes.

It has been almost 7 years since we brought Jett home and almost 4 for Zeke and Elly. I barely catch a glimpse of our lives before them. It was a good life. Two girls who were compliant, obedient, peaceful (most days)….life was just fine.

But God……in all of His wisdom and knowledge, had a different plan for our family that called for great sacrifice and a roller coaster ride of emotions that we were clearly not cut out for.

But God….robed in power and majesty, chose three children from around the globe to weave into our family in such a way that only He could get the glory.

But God….full of grace and mercy, knew that our lives didn’t reflect His enduring love to the extent necessary and changed that.

I look back and see lives full of ourselves. There were six years where the world revolved around JT and me. We ate what we wanted when we wanted. We went to the bathroom by ourselves, and our house was always clean. No chaos. No worries. Serene.

Children change that. God can show you depravity and self-entitlement through a child better than any other avenue!

Marriage showed me the extent of my selfishness. Chlildren showed me how selfless God wanted me to be.

Praise God for the way He has taken us through the journey of adoption to weave our family into His desire. He has taught JT and me more than we ever thought possible about His great love, endurance, patience and joy. It has had moments and years that were dark and hard, but praise His name, there is a Hope that sustains!