tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68792253612374191682024-03-18T14:57:33.144-05:00Being BraveAllisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15262836212143049594noreply@blogger.comBlogger748125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6879225361237419168.post-76351285420068740172015-12-19T21:35:00.001-06:002015-12-19T21:43:46.981-06:00Project Give Hope....an Update <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Her birthday is on Christmas. She'll turn 11 in just a few days. She keeps asking her momma why there aren't any presents under the tree. </div>
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That momma and this family is one of the families we're sponsoring this year for our Give Hope project. That momma came over this Thursday to help wrap gifts for her dear Hope Link friends who would be receiving them. We secretly wrapped her gifts up while she wrapped for others. Then we sent her home with a car full of presents to cover that empty space under the tree. </div>
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She sent me this text the next morning...</div>
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Sometimes I think I'm crazy for taking on this challenge every year, and then things like that happen, and I remember why we love doing this. This community of women and families who are all connected by the hardships and blessings of having a child with special needs is unlike anything I've ever seen. It's beautiful and inspiring. </div>
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Tonight, I just wanted to thank you. Everyone who is following our journey and this project and doing what they can to help, thank you for buying, donating, and sharing. It means so very much to these families. </div>
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I wanted to share a few of the amazing things I get to see through Hope Link and the families that are a part of it. </div>
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A few days ago, one of our Hope Link mommas posted an amazing video of her son walking for the 1st time with these words....</div>
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On the same day, another Hope Link momma shared these words in the Hope Link group. She said, </div>
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I wanted to share this video of my daughter crawling! She will be 2 in just 2 weeks, and this just started about a month ago, very shortly after our November (Hope Link) meeting! </div>
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We are very private in what we share on Facebook. There was a time, not too long ago, when fear of the future overcame me. You have all given me HOPE for our future, whatever it may look like, and a little but of peace in the journey. For now, though, we are celebrating this amazing feat, and I wanted to share with you all! </div>
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This is the beautiful thing about a community like Hope Link. They truly do give each other <i>hope</i>. I am constantly inspired by the way they love so well and the way they serve and celebrate each other. </div>
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So if you're wondering what in the world it is that would get us to even attempt something like this, it's that. It's all that hope that this community of women bring to me and to each other. </div>
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I have to tell you about all the good stuff because there is also lots of hard stuff that comes with having kiddos with special needs. One of our Hope Link moms tweeted about the horrible shopping experience she had last week. Employees and customers were rude and made inappropriate comments. That's no way to treat a child with special needs or their family. Remember, you never know what someone is walking through or dealing with....ever. That's why we have to love recklessly. We have to love even if it'll hurt. We have to love even when it appears to be an inconvenience. We have to love the way Jesus loved. </div>
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I wish I could help these babes walk or watch them for a night while their parents have a night out for once, but I can't do those things. But there are things that I can do, and Christmas is one of them. So if you've been watching and wondering what in the world we're doing.....the only way I know how to describe it is love. I have fallen in love with these babes and their families. They have captured my heart. They need to be loved well. They need to be given a little hope. Sometimes the hospitals and the bills and the diagnosis's (or lack there of) are too much, so we give hope at Christmas. </div>
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If you haven't had a chance to see our Give Hope video, please take a moment to watch it below. And if you'd still like to help, there are 3 ways you can help in these last few days.</div>
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We still need:</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">1. Donations:</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"> To donate, simply comment below with your email address and the amount you'd like to donate. All donations will be used to fulfill the wish lists of our Hope Link families.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"> </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">2. Deliveries: </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">We have families all over the Oklahom</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">a City metro area. From Norman to Yukon to Edmond and everywhere in between. If you'd like to pick up and deliver to a family, we would love for you to be a part of or deliveries. It's the best part of the process!! Comment below if you're </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">interested in delivering. Deliveries will happen Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">3. Gifts we still need (You've got to be local to the OKC area to be able to help with this one.)</span></div>
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<span class="_4-k1 img sp_UkKp2mjPS47 sx_33f150" style="background-position: 0px -1241px; background-size: auto; color: #141823; display: inline-block; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; height: 16px; line-height: 19px; vertical-align: -3px; width: 16px;"><u style="left: -999999px; position: absolute;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none;"><u style="display: inline !important; left: -999999px; position: absolute;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none;"><u style="display: inline !important; left: -999999px; position: absolute;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none;"><u style="display: inline !important; left: -999999px; position: absolute;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none;"><u style="display: inline !important; left: -999999px; position: absolute;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><i class="_4-k1 img sp_UkKp2mjPS47 sx_33f150" style="background-position: 0px -1241px; background-size: auto; color: #141823; display: inline-block; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; height: 16px; line-height: 19px; vertical-align: -3px; width: 16px;"><u style="display: inline !important; left: -999999px; position: absolute;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: small; font-style: normal; line-height: normal;"><i class="_4-k1 img sp_UkKp2mjPS47 sx_7d2f11" style="background-position: 0px -1207px; background-size: auto; color: #141823; display: inline-block; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; height: 16px; line-height: 19px; vertical-align: -3px; width: 16px;"><u style="display: inline !important; left: -999999px; position: absolute;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; font-style: normal;">We still have items that we're running around collecting. If you can pick up any of the items listed below, please let me know! It would be a huge help as we finalize all the lists and get everything wrapped up. </span></u></i></span></u></i></span></u></span></u></span></u></span></u></span></u></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">• little kid Nike shoes for a boy size 3 </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">• Men's New Balance shoes size 15 (4e) color navy (I can give you details on the style)</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">• bodyguardz iPad Air 2 screen protector </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">• a Jurassic world toy </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">• a set of gorilla grilling mats</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">• b toys Ribbit-tat-tat drum (target) </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">• Quadrillion game (target) </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">• Men's Thunder tee size L </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">• boy outfit size 7/8</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">• girl outfit size 7/8</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">• Pie Face game (I know it's a long shot) </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">• a toy kitchen </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">• kids Converse size 8 toddler Chuck Taylor navy </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">• unisex Converse Chuck Taylor All Star High top sneakers white size women's 8 </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">• Tom's 6.5 grey (women) </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">Anything you can give, deliver, or buy is such a huge blessing to these families. </span></div>
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Thank you for helping us give hope this Christmas.</div>
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Allisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15262836212143049594noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6879225361237419168.post-11127026794134835842015-11-27T00:08:00.001-06:002015-11-27T00:13:29.677-06:00The thrill of hope....for EK<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I've spent the day going up and down the stairs in our home taking the Fall decor up to the attic and bringing the Christmas decor down. And every step, every trip was full of prayer. </div>
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As Thanksgiving comes to a close and you start making your list for Black Friday and Small Business Saturday, and Cyber Monday shopping, I'm hoping you'll add at least one more item to your list. </div>
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You see, I've been praying over 10 families....some of them I know and love. Some of them I call my dear friends. Some of them I don't know yet, but I will. </div>
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Five years ago, I met a little girl who changed my life and my love for Christ and every Christmas after that. Ellie Kate was a joy. I don't even know how to describe her other than joy. She was anointed. A child of God whose smile could light up any room. Ellie was born with a rare, genetic disorder called NKH. I fell in love with her, got really mad at God, and then discovered a God who loves us unconditionally. </div>
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Ellie's mom, Ryan, is the co-founder of a non-profit organization called Hope Link. It exists to provide support to families with children who have rare, serious, and often undiagnosed conditions. There is even a Hope Link Graduates group now for families who have lost children. We say it's not a group you ever want to be a part of, but it's a huge blessing to these mommas. </div>
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Hope Link is a thriving and growing community. They reach out to other families in the area by delivering care baskets to local hospitals to be delivered to other families with kiddos who have rare conditions and long hospital stays. </div>
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It is community in it's most raw and beautiful form. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipAFypd8pRYQGscsqIfUQBRQDkFSRbRhhGCv-qRjdMX8YybrD5Ns1lGjq_E63KXhccKTpJOkWfuskSX-F2JQ8us5lE6-6fFrma9QBXGbJOMHeId6BgZgUhn-01cqAzsGlHIAhFsEBQIEI/s1600/11896094_10153565838523615_7198398278328876244_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipAFypd8pRYQGscsqIfUQBRQDkFSRbRhhGCv-qRjdMX8YybrD5Ns1lGjq_E63KXhccKTpJOkWfuskSX-F2JQ8us5lE6-6fFrma9QBXGbJOMHeId6BgZgUhn-01cqAzsGlHIAhFsEBQIEI/s640/11896094_10153565838523615_7198398278328876244_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Several years ago, we felt a pull on our hearts to attempt to provide Christmas for several of our Hope Link families. We used our Scentsy team as a launching point to spread the word and pray for gifts. And that year, our dining room was filled with gifts. Donations of love for several of our Hope Link families. Every year since, we have prayed hard and dreamed of great provision for some of these amazing families. </div>
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All our Hope Link families have to battle insurance issues and medicare and in-home nursing and long hospital stays. Unfortunately some of our families even end up at the hospital over Christmas. </div>
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So Christmas is something we do to try to ease the stress of the holidays. It's one way we can bless some truly incredibly families. But it's honestly a little scary. </div>
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We adopted 10 of our Hope Link families this year. We asked each of them to provide us with a simple wish list of 3 items they would like to have. Some of them have a hard time doing it. They fight me on it. They ask if there is another family who could be blessed by it instead of them. </div>
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And I press them. They deserve to be loved like this. They deserve for their stories to be told. </div>
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So this year, we are sponsoring 10 families, 47 people, and over 145 items on our final master wish list. And I would be lying to you if I told you I wasn't nervous. I am. It's a big task. </div>
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But I'm also so crazy excited. I can't do this on my own. There's no doubt about that. And when we decide to do big and scary things, we give God the opportunity to show off in big ways. </div>
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So I'm expectant. I'm asking the Lord to bless these families with more than just things this year. I'm trusting that He'll move in some of your hearts. That their stories will grab you and change you. </div>
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So I'm asking this year for a simple task....150 people committed to buying a single gift for a Hope Link family. They're more than just gifts. They truly are pieces of hope delivered to these families at one of the hardest times of the year. Many of these families are facing another Christmas without one of their babies. </div>
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My sweet friends the McLaughlins are one of those families. Ellie Kate went to be with Jesus on December 23rd of 2012. During a time when many of us can look past our own struggles and issues and focus on Christmas and family and Christ, it's hard for them to function without Ellie here. </div>
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So I'm asking for big love this year. I'm asking for more. Give a gift and then ask what else you can do. Volunteer to deliver theses gifts to one of our OKC families. Volunteer to bring them a meal or coffee or just ask how you can help. There is so much more that we can do as the body of Christ to love well those around us who are hurting. In honor of Ellie, we are giving hope this Christmas. </div>
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So how do you help? </div>
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<li>Share our story. </li>
<li><a href="http://www.amazon.com/registry/giftlist/1O32SS218DBC9">Commit to buying 1 gift</a> via our <a href="http://www.amazon.com/registry/giftlist/1O32SS218DBC9">Hope Link Amazon wishlist</a>. </li>
<li>Reach out and ask how you can do even more. Just shoot me an email @ <a href="mailto:allisondalke@gmail.com">allisondalke@gmail.com</a>. We need help wrapping, delivering, praying, writing cards....there is so much to do. </li>
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Help us give hope this year. Because there is no better gift than the thrill of hope. </div>
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Allisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15262836212143049594noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6879225361237419168.post-54924186713434400892015-11-23T00:59:00.001-06:002015-11-23T00:59:35.869-06:00It changes youIt changes you. <div>
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You don't go into it expecting it to change you, but if you do it right, and you don't quit and you keep going day after day, it changes you. </div>
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I joined this little direct sales company called Scentsy 8 years ago this month. And while I'm completely realistic about the fact that I would have changed in 8 years with or without Scentsy, I don't think I would have changed like this. </div>
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Direct sales changes people. </div>
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That is the most beautiful thing about it. When you do it right, and you're not that annoying "direct sales lady"....you don't want to be her, let's be real.....you change. And you become better and stronger and more of who you're supposed to be. </div>
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And it's beautiful and messy and perfectly imperfect. </div>
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Honestly, there are days when I don't want to do it anymore because it's hard to be your own boss. It's hard to work for yourself. It's hard to do the same thing over and over again for years sometimes. And I've gone through periods when I was really down....where I just wanted to be a mom and nothing else. </div>
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Really, those are selfish and half crazy periods of time. Now, 8 years later, I still want to do this, and I not only want to do it, but I want to do it well. We have been so incredibly blessed. This "business" has been both the high and low point of our marriage and our story. </div>
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I thought that money would make us happy. That's the American dream right? Make the money...buy the house...live the life....and all your dreams will come true. </div>
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Ha. </div>
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But that's not how it goes. It's really quite the opposite. </div>
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We made the money. Paid off our debt. Found and bought the dream house....and lost each other. I remember sitting on the back porch of the house that I thought we would live in forever surrounded by everything I thought we could ever want....a boat, private school for our kids, great clothes, fancy trips, and so on....I remember sitting on that back porch thinking that I wasn't happy. Not in our marriage, not with our life, not with anything. I wasn't "happy." </div>
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All the stuff wasn't doing it for me. </div>
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I think that was the bottom. It wasn't our debt or the postpartum anxiety I went through....it was the money. And it wasn't the lack of it. It was the abundance of it, that put me at the bottom. </div>
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And I don't write all this to talk about how much money we made. Blah. We made good money. But it was the money that would bring us to our knees. </div>
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I used to think that money would fix it all. 8 years later, I learned that only people can fix it all. </div>
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And not a single person. We're all sinners who fail to our flesh far too many times a day. Not a person. But people. Its people who fix people. </div>
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We moved out of that "dream home" just 3 years ago into a home that I never would have dreamed of. It's not perfect by any means. We don't have granite countertops and all our fixtures are brass, but it's a home with room for people. </div>
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And when I want to be my introvert self, I have to remind myself that the walls of a house are only walls. Wood and plaster that will one day crumble. But if I fill the walls. If I fill my home with people, that will never crumble. Because people change people. </div>
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Direct sales has a bad reputation sometimes I think. People don't understand it or think that other direct sales people are just too pushy. But the reason it works is because it's about people. </div>
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This business has changed my marriage and my family and my friends, and it's changed me. Forever. </div>
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Direct sales changes people because it's about people. </div>
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You can't do this well without loving other people. You can't do this well without serving other people. You can't do this well without surrounding yourself with other people. </div>
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As we approach Thanksgiving in the United States, I am so incredibly grateful for the people that Scentsy has brought into my life. And even as I look forward to this week full of food and family and love, it is and will always be different because of Scentsy. </div>
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My family is close. We are the best of friends. I'm exited about them being here this week. I'm overjoyed at the thought of them napping on the couch as we watch football and watch kids chasing chickens in the backyard. But I don't know if it would have felt like this without this thing called Scentsy that we get to do together. And tonight I'm grateful. Incredibly grateful for the people in this "little" direct sales company called Scentsy who have changed me. </div>
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Allisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15262836212143049594noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6879225361237419168.post-57779871704497724652015-09-09T20:46:00.001-05:002015-09-09T23:36:01.638-05:00Being strongI've decided that at this stage of living the newborn life, 3 simple daily goals are all I need. <div><br></div><div>1. Get dressed (at some point in the day). Anytime is fine. Showers are worth extra points because let's be real, they're not happening everyday.</div><div><br></div><div>2. Do a load or 2 of laundry. That's all. I'm not even attempting to put the clothes away. Our laundry room is turning into the family closet for the time being, and I'm perfectly okay with that. </div><div><br></div><div>3. Do the dishes. Simple enough. That involves emptying and loading the dishwasher every day and making sure it runs overnight. </div><div><br></div><div>If I try to add anything else to this list, I just get frustrated and overwhelmed. Miss Lucy likes to eat a lot. I don't remember if my other babies ate this much and I just forgot, or if Lucy is trying to win the fattest Dalke baby prize.</div><div><br></div><div>Either way, I feel like I spend a lot of time nursing, so I can't seem to do anything more than the above listed items, and I'm okay with it. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBuBQeYGFbc__RjBXHKh56n3nx1Ar4hkYqq4KMpY9ZEqXlIU4jsRncRCd-ren9s8k-c0n0_s4f5hBSWJb1pKFNlieVKvTofmUVPhYKSd3ve3OEtXeqwQnDp8ogp0YApu5tXa4gyLfB8H0/s640/blogger-image--389340309.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBuBQeYGFbc__RjBXHKh56n3nx1Ar4hkYqq4KMpY9ZEqXlIU4jsRncRCd-ren9s8k-c0n0_s4f5hBSWJb1pKFNlieVKvTofmUVPhYKSd3ve3OEtXeqwQnDp8ogp0YApu5tXa4gyLfB8H0/s640/blogger-image--389340309.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>I know this season is so incredibly short in the big picture even if it seems to be long right now. </div><div><br></div><div>I'm learning a lot from this little babe. She's reminding me that I'm ultimately not in charge (which I need to be reminded of often), and she's a snuggly reminder that this is the last time we get to do this baby thing. Because of that, I'm living in it. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu4PpFV82EwQR7mLEes6egm5JIx7N9Pub3ZZy9Uu405HW3yN-nnal3vmQCGKnYX_5enKfooaq4_EGty-KFRlndoge64V7Ua-xd07VDBOyf1Mtxlu4RIcQGxzn7aC0lds1aKPQjHnWlL5Q/s640/blogger-image-1905450935.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu4PpFV82EwQR7mLEes6egm5JIx7N9Pub3ZZy9Uu405HW3yN-nnal3vmQCGKnYX_5enKfooaq4_EGty-KFRlndoge64V7Ua-xd07VDBOyf1Mtxlu4RIcQGxzn7aC0lds1aKPQjHnWlL5Q/s640/blogger-image-1905450935.jpg"></a></div></div><div><br></div><div>I'm okay with my spot on the couch and the lack of sleep and the complete lack of routine. I'm okay with all of it. </div><div><br></div><div>And I'm grateful. Amazingly grateful for my husband who so selflessly takes care of everything else that needs taking care of in our house. He's been doing the morning school routine with all the kiddos...making lunches, packing backpacks, signing homework, he's doing all of it. He's cooking dinner (which he usually does anyways) and doing baths and homework and the bedtime routine. And I'm on the couch. Feeding a baby. (Except in the picture below where daddy got to give Lucy her 1st bottle.) </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT7E9cLE2TnSjqRKsHzIJk_-EKQjRlntaAO2pHMYrNhPRW2_Lfdw81F52IZtLds6VgApHswoEo4flm2OXQIDI8oih1Pl81oWYfA4inQvAe6QyI0XucJ-10vbqL501Br9NlTdVn0dBBtJM/s640/blogger-image-497847425.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT7E9cLE2TnSjqRKsHzIJk_-EKQjRlntaAO2pHMYrNhPRW2_Lfdw81F52IZtLds6VgApHswoEo4flm2OXQIDI8oih1Pl81oWYfA4inQvAe6QyI0XucJ-10vbqL501Br9NlTdVn0dBBtJM/s640/blogger-image-497847425.jpg"></a></div></div><div><br></div><div>I'm also grateful to all our amazing friends and family who have stopped by and brought gifts for Lucy and delicious food for the rest of us. Really, you all are amazing. </div><div><br></div><div>I'll be honest, there are moments in every day when I just want to cry. It's mostly from exhaustion but also it's from moments of feeling overwhelmed. It's from trying to do too much and be too much. </div><div><br></div><div>Sometimes our culture tells us we have to do it all and be it all. But right now, I know that my most important job is feeding a tiny baby. It may seem like not a lot or not enough, but right now, it's all I need to do. </div><div><br></div><div>Sometimes we try too hard to do things we aren't supposed to be doing. So I'm not apologizing for my messy house or my delayed text message responses, and I'm resting in doing exactly what I'm supposed to be doing in this season. </div><div><br></div><div>Being strong doesn't mean doing it all. Being strong sometimes means being present and doing what you're called to do in each season. </div><div><br></div><div>We're in the middle of the newborn life and I'm living it and loving it. </div><div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpmDF18Gl3qxZSzDlXU4d9P6xw2YIN7J8R9vlL-cpUY4t37UuKI9WwXA6u4FtxDxWPDRKttqTPQ0gWhXyCuQVYGwNlbsK39Kum3AOAhotX24W1IYUErWvjRbGSIrbrXb9UCVmaBOfijjQ/s640/blogger-image-728146665.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpmDF18Gl3qxZSzDlXU4d9P6xw2YIN7J8R9vlL-cpUY4t37UuKI9WwXA6u4FtxDxWPDRKttqTPQ0gWhXyCuQVYGwNlbsK39Kum3AOAhotX24W1IYUErWvjRbGSIrbrXb9UCVmaBOfijjQ/s640/blogger-image-728146665.jpg"></a></div></div>Allisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15262836212143049594noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6879225361237419168.post-79671442292824256002015-09-07T20:45:00.001-05:002015-09-07T23:33:29.841-05:00Open Doors before Clean FloorsLife with a newborn is lots of things....snuggly, sleepy, cozy, and sweet. But it's also not lots of things like clean, organized, routine, or expected. <div><br></div><div>My house has been cluttered since Miss Lucy moved in. The floors have collected dust and dog hair and who knows what else. Our dining room table is full of art projects and estate sale finds and car seats and diaper bags. And the coffee table is overflowing with baby blankets and coffee cups and Scentsy catalogs and crayons. </div><div><br></div><div>We spent yesterday with my family celebrating my aunt's 60th birthday. It was a blast. We took our annual cousins picture, and I adore it. I'll be writing more later this week about family and the blessing it is to <i>want </i>to be with your family. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNmnUvhNtekTU5-7xCjp9iAgSy7KG9eMLyYY7YmedBNuHLhmHwH30Yllv2SZi6LH0FDrTNdX0863YncWfgs7-NT7WlbDLYp9h5T7w7mcAgplLrOUr4viTnhtAC-B4pUcQ2CCDcTrryiCU/s640/blogger-image-1261709310.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNmnUvhNtekTU5-7xCjp9iAgSy7KG9eMLyYY7YmedBNuHLhmHwH30Yllv2SZi6LH0FDrTNdX0863YncWfgs7-NT7WlbDLYp9h5T7w7mcAgplLrOUr4viTnhtAC-B4pUcQ2CCDcTrryiCU/s640/blogger-image-1261709310.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">So today my amazing hubby let me sleep until almost noon with Miss Lucy. I was up around 9:00 and could barely keep my eyes open. I guess the past couple weeks just finally caught up with me. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">When I woke up, I was keenly aware of the state of our less than clean house. But right now, there's not a ton I can do about it. I'm keeping up with the laundry the best that I can, and I do the dishes and tidy the kitchen every night, but that's about as far as I get when it comes to house keeping. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I knew we were having friends over for dinner and swimming this afternoon. And as much as I wanted to care about the state of my floors, I have a 13 day old little miss who needs to be fed 1st. Instead of canceling and making up an excuse about why we couldn't have them over, I decided that open doors in our home were far more important than dirty floors. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">And I was right. We had an amazing afternoon. The big kids and dads went to the neighbors' to swim while my sweet friend Cheryl and I sat on the couch. She showed me some tricks to photo editing while she played with the gorgeous pictures she took of Lucy on Saturday. And I, of course, fed that sweet baby. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK84hdFCuhqVDyqygVwXE1TWICogbr5M8xKvTVxQQ51ctJ5Ws84hqNaE6Mmt5OHjIqj6WzJN6IwY5AP1wqww6zANlEChV9OQfmqtNWHoWzqRrNrurunr5FAJiR-7w8Nep7-_THHMuI-gc/s640/blogger-image--1693432018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK84hdFCuhqVDyqygVwXE1TWICogbr5M8xKvTVxQQ51ctJ5Ws84hqNaE6Mmt5OHjIqj6WzJN6IwY5AP1wqww6zANlEChV9OQfmqtNWHoWzqRrNrurunr5FAJiR-7w8Nep7-_THHMuI-gc/s640/blogger-image--1693432018.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Later we cut veggies and grilled meat while the kids played and colored and explored outside. And while they were here, I never once considered the mess on my dining room table or the dirt on my floors. And honestly, I don't think they did either. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">There are silly things that keep us from community. Dirty floors and excuses about the way our homes look is usually at the top of the list for most of us. We think people will judge us or think we're not good enough, so we don't invite them in. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I'm learning, especially in this season of newborn life, that the greatest blessings often come when we forget about the imperfections of our homes and open our doors to love and connect with others.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I'm guessing I'm not the only one who has a tendency to want to close the doors both on my heart and my home because it's messy in there. Our culture has become accustomed to over sharing the good and closing the doors on the messy and imperfect. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The irony of that is that it's our messes and imperfections both in our hearts and on our floors that make us relatable to other people. When we fail to share the messy, we miss out on the blessing of true community. Because let's be real, no one wants to be friends with someone whose floors are never messy and whose heart never hurts. </div><br></div><div>So the question becomes, who can you open your doors to? And why haven't you already? Whoever it is, I'm betting that they won't care about the state of your floors or the tidyness of your home. At the end of the day, we all need community, but we'll never get it if we're waiting for the perfect day or a clean house. </div>Allisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15262836212143049594noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6879225361237419168.post-63057841333856954952015-09-05T20:30:00.001-05:002015-09-05T20:30:36.846-05:00The Newborn LifeBrian took the bigs to aunt Jacquelyn's house to watch the OU game tonight, so miss Lucy and I are sitting in our cozy spot on the couch watching Tangled on TV and eating leftovers for dinner. <div><br></div><div>It's amazing how quickly I've forgotten what life with a newborn is like. You would think that after 3 babes, I would remember this season of constant nursing and little sleep and no routine what so ever. But I definitely forgot. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxVnYjIr1FDL6TWsnqBuE-3ALa7R5aGa7znt7otgIaOLKJYd72DpaaNM3pZi2aFon_1_wTvFNKjQl_TiNX-YEYAKJoYd6lczoeQ-NiL51sWzZmTsX2H8O60C9S1oneZ_3gvrOTkm3kEJg/s640/blogger-image--262541073.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxVnYjIr1FDL6TWsnqBuE-3ALa7R5aGa7znt7otgIaOLKJYd72DpaaNM3pZi2aFon_1_wTvFNKjQl_TiNX-YEYAKJoYd6lczoeQ-NiL51sWzZmTsX2H8O60C9S1oneZ_3gvrOTkm3kEJg/s640/blogger-image--262541073.jpg"></a></div></div></div><div>Knowing that Lucy is our last babe, I'm loving this season. I'm not normally one to like the lack of routine or the unexpected, but I'm pretty consumed with all the snuggling. Brian even said that I should probably find a new spot on the couch so there's not a dent. (He was joking of course.) But we really are spending lots of time there. Here's our little corner of the couch. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9GPm5fTqcXVqGKMHdz1QJgWOd0DOxH7eTMJjhQtYNVNJ80Ymq6N3mw74k9U7tK50UDJkGL7_rhUGmgHPgLuIegU-yEjjJoNxdLX1FpSxDCb0ymuTAOTi7f-7czgEeIL7ozNLK_iPChiI/s640/blogger-image--2090294417.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9GPm5fTqcXVqGKMHdz1QJgWOd0DOxH7eTMJjhQtYNVNJ80Ymq6N3mw74k9U7tK50UDJkGL7_rhUGmgHPgLuIegU-yEjjJoNxdLX1FpSxDCb0ymuTAOTi7f-7czgEeIL7ozNLK_iPChiI/s640/blogger-image--2090294417.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Miss Lucy often wants to nurse every 2 hours throughout the day, so of course we do! And being that she's still not even 2 weeks old yet, we are on no kind of schedule yet. Whenever she wants to eat, we eat. Over the next couple of weeks, I know things will start to become more routine. And when that happens, I'll gladly embrace the routine. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ5ISHf2Q1YFMnuZVDHAh-rW6UWMUXyxWZJGke_CKmrVFp7cY4UBhGHN43Mtqm0oUZm5y1t7VOKW5ncwDGH6mGMET6hq5m5Y4o3Xe5ghMSErWQqE9VK16b61lNt4VTy9TpHecpVRCxkCY/s640/blogger-image--364904486.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ5ISHf2Q1YFMnuZVDHAh-rW6UWMUXyxWZJGke_CKmrVFp7cY4UBhGHN43Mtqm0oUZm5y1t7VOKW5ncwDGH6mGMET6hq5m5Y4o3Xe5ghMSErWQqE9VK16b61lNt4VTy9TpHecpVRCxkCY/s640/blogger-image--364904486.jpg"></a></div></div><div><br></div><div>But until then, we'll be here. Snuggling, loving, working, nursing, napping, reading and giving lots and lots of baby kisses. The newborn life is not too bad. We're soaking it up and loving every minute. I know it's fleeting, so we're taking advantage of it while it's here. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLLOSRHyOUduhQfm451VcwPHx2H4I6A7_NzkG3o5wE8qUw3Ec0pH8aSiuUM04QJaJVeVcUhXlqVQ_UrJmauRyrr7o0134AWl6Sv0Gg8P6UJpFb-jIPWn7thWQ9AcyvPBiAa7mhnrRgPyw/s640/blogger-image-1124970535.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLLOSRHyOUduhQfm451VcwPHx2H4I6A7_NzkG3o5wE8qUw3Ec0pH8aSiuUM04QJaJVeVcUhXlqVQ_UrJmauRyrr7o0134AWl6Sv0Gg8P6UJpFb-jIPWn7thWQ9AcyvPBiAa7mhnrRgPyw/s640/blogger-image-1124970535.jpg"></a></div></div><div><br></div>Allisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15262836212143049594noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6879225361237419168.post-53208888099832125412015-09-03T21:55:00.002-05:002015-09-03T21:55:26.313-05:00Hello September....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I love September, but I think it's weird how September never really feels like I think it should. </div>
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I feel like September 1st should usher in cool, crisp mornings and the need to wear a light sweater and make pumpkin muffins. But it never quite works like that in Oklahoma. It's still mega hot and the flies are invading my kitchen like it's still the middle of Summer. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTWJOXaLTIYjVax16RUyLzQCXEdBxmeMDuM2Q9b9ipIZrbObsyfzaLVVgcq5sNPasP8AqufVshsSCRhk3lVlo-QFVVMoExAS1lf2XeyNi23U8nSAF3AGupTZXJ3CgQpA0kjaJhqrDsYYc/s640/blogger-image-2144501907.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTWJOXaLTIYjVax16RUyLzQCXEdBxmeMDuM2Q9b9ipIZrbObsyfzaLVVgcq5sNPasP8AqufVshsSCRhk3lVlo-QFVVMoExAS1lf2XeyNi23U8nSAF3AGupTZXJ3CgQpA0kjaJhqrDsYYc/s640/blogger-image-2144501907.jpg" /></a></div>
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But nevertheless, I still love September. It means a new catalog and new Fall scents in the Scentsy world. The kiddos go back to school. We fall back into a routine, and football season starts. I'm not huge football watcher necessarily, but I grew up in a house where we hosted football watch parties every weekend. I've come to find the sound of a football game playing on the TV to be oddly comforting. </div>
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As each new month opens, I like to sit down and set some goals for myself for that month, both for my business and for my personal life. </div>
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This month, I'm keeping things pretty simple. A long time ago, I started a planning method I call the Sunday 7. It's a simple way to look at the most important areas in your life and set goals for those areas accordingly. </div>
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You can read more about the Sunday 7 <a href="http://www.allisondalke.com/2013/06/a-beautiful-mess-of-week-ahead.html">here</a>. Also you can find lots of posts about the Sunday 7 on the right hand side of the blog under Categories. </div>
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I'm using my Sunday 7 planning method to help me set some goals for September. </div>
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<u>The Sunday 7</u></div>
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<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;">Faith: in the Bible everyday, intentional prayer time/journaling</li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;">Family: spend one-on-one time with each kiddo everyday this month...even if it's just for 5 minutes</li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;">Friends/Relationships: Lunch with a friend this month and in-house coffee dates with my Scentsy team. </li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;">Work: Sell at least $2,000 of Scentsy and Velata this month AND help 2 new people start their own businesses this month. </li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;">Health and Fitness: Walk 3 times a week and start a light weight workout </li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;">Money Management: schedule our monthly budget meeting, stay on top of both business and personal accounts, and live on our budget. </li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;">Downtime: Read. Listen. And find space for rest. Don't overdo it. Snuggle that baby A LOT and enjoy the newborn life.....it's only a season....soak it up. </li>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Cardo;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrEwiDZij3l7CFaEcCm7XthhFT0tq0w6ATtTdQXq_tCE3XAL2st6wka_dNW58Kmcx75MVAnXhklkLhm87lWDmGele5sYS60AKIZ105UJZ-fDW5zlOGaa3BcCN52WUNtrK8Rs7Kn5_UUrY/s640/blogger-image-1871941088.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrEwiDZij3l7CFaEcCm7XthhFT0tq0w6ATtTdQXq_tCE3XAL2st6wka_dNW58Kmcx75MVAnXhklkLhm87lWDmGele5sYS60AKIZ105UJZ-fDW5zlOGaa3BcCN52WUNtrK8Rs7Kn5_UUrY/s640/blogger-image-1871941088.jpg" /></a></span></span></div>
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What about you? What are your goals for this month? And how do you go about setting and keeping goals? I love learning about how other people stay motivated and focused. Please share! </div>
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<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho_DwtUKBCCVHLqy_zIn5q1uO8rGoxRUkFDwaeTI6P9-VH3B42OGm-JqKV4RZZxjXsFTSYPt8sLoEpDy_dfBFDactHLVn66Mger5BA0w619y-n87B7b-kUES632SbiLWjTchkI4EZfCys/s1600/allison.png" /></div>
Allisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15262836212143049594noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6879225361237419168.post-85248184222872926212015-09-02T19:24:00.001-05:002015-09-03T00:03:36.906-05:00That thing they call 'the baby blues'Flies, a puppy, a text message that wasn't personal but that I took personally, and dirt on my floors. They're all things I cried over today. None of them significant, but each of them feeling significant in the moment. <div><br></div><div>I think this is what they so fondly call "the baby blues." Sometimes we don't talk about it. We pretend it doesn't happen. But it does. And for most people it's short lived and quickly forgotten. </div><div><br></div><div>Today those weepy moments lasted a short couple hours. My cure for baby blues? Babies. Chocolate. And Jesus. </div><div><br></div><div>That may sound silly. But nursing the tiny, sweet girl (who has had a significant impact on my crazy, out of wack hormones) is what usually makes me quickly realize that every silly thing that's made me want to cry, is exactly that...just silly. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdtwGIOgeX_Vg2c62VNczGaXF0OpqX1j-Xbwon9PfoBSSOibPz1P-jGDld3ZzF-VBPqXkTGEkPxj_TZIg9DQD48YfvwrUPWh4csLTFJJJkgB_SLuQLl3R36PXZglMadpA0UTPK9-hLzXQ/s640/blogger-image--1719464312.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdtwGIOgeX_Vg2c62VNczGaXF0OpqX1j-Xbwon9PfoBSSOibPz1P-jGDld3ZzF-VBPqXkTGEkPxj_TZIg9DQD48YfvwrUPWh4csLTFJJJkgB_SLuQLl3R36PXZglMadpA0UTPK9-hLzXQ/s640/blogger-image--1719464312.jpg"></a></div></div><div><br></div><div>Her tiny perfectness helps remind me that nothing else really matters. Not the annoying flies that seem to be overtaking my kitchen. Not the dirt on my floors. And not that puppy that makes me crazy most days. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw9h0w9-n1Hn3v0UTvf7C1EjdWF3TSkrGgSxnjPVcAeQYCtDvk8fQIWMmgW8m9Dc5VtBsY56tvcxCwO8EpTJ7MCGKTdHJXCLG0H8BYRL882nVT6u05ZyeBO7WGtAQbo-X567OlKqSQ1fg/s640/blogger-image--2065743002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw9h0w9-n1Hn3v0UTvf7C1EjdWF3TSkrGgSxnjPVcAeQYCtDvk8fQIWMmgW8m9Dc5VtBsY56tvcxCwO8EpTJ7MCGKTdHJXCLG0H8BYRL882nVT6u05ZyeBO7WGtAQbo-X567OlKqSQ1fg/s640/blogger-image--2065743002.jpg"></a></div></div></div><div><br></div><div>Nothing can really compare to her and her smallness and the way she needs me. She is comforting. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic5Ph7685yODdo40e0MUMjqi6hGCHnq1JB3LhXjVooVSGa8nnin-2YJ4cCixLR6X1X7fm6_Ber_dYEa9xxoABNqvsX0hG23EQ926SkqrYBc4SIRK-JlyiQO3bZXOx3koDYjFcuXUnsgkQ/s640/blogger-image--1191360837.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic5Ph7685yODdo40e0MUMjqi6hGCHnq1JB3LhXjVooVSGa8nnin-2YJ4cCixLR6X1X7fm6_Ber_dYEa9xxoABNqvsX0hG23EQ926SkqrYBc4SIRK-JlyiQO3bZXOx3koDYjFcuXUnsgkQ/s640/blogger-image--1191360837.jpg"></a></div></div><div><br></div><div>But let's be real, I also found a stash of dark chocolate and spent some time reminding myself who I am in Christ. I love how God's word is always relevant.....always what my soul needs.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCzf5BHzBH1c1xSakz0NCT_pv79h4Kw2SWAzl5McyR_P6QktmUPVNZGoF7HhzUpp-M3wZQbyejol8oIRSvZ-e_kN92P2w78t_0b_t6oPSPrHWz8v1Cu_QQw9TbHrCc78JNnMN-vYyhJDA/s640/blogger-image--600899521.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCzf5BHzBH1c1xSakz0NCT_pv79h4Kw2SWAzl5McyR_P6QktmUPVNZGoF7HhzUpp-M3wZQbyejol8oIRSvZ-e_kN92P2w78t_0b_t6oPSPrHWz8v1Cu_QQw9TbHrCc78JNnMN-vYyhJDA/s640/blogger-image--600899521.jpg"></a></div> </div><div>Tonight I read three powerful words that I think we all need to be reminded of sometimes. 1 Corinthians 3:23 reads </div><div><br></div><div>...and you are Christ's....</div><div><br></div><div>There is a beautiful line in Hillsong's worship song <i>Oceans </i>that says "I am yours and you are mine." It echoes the truth in 1 Corinthians 3:23. I am His. </div><div><br></div><div>It is the most comforting truth. It's often hard to truly grasp, but when I sing that lyric, I cannot stop myself from smiling. My soul knows it's true. </div><div><br></div><div>It is a beautiful reminder that there is no hormonal moment, bad afternoon, weepy baby blues that can take me away from the One that I belong to. And that truth is better than any chocolate I've ever had. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdV9_JUIyApH8FerhQuga7z-RzcygfM-z_gvDusYLXP_3D_zGz3JHwamCJHyrEJ8XJaPg3NpLJJNp2Uu5IknD2CH-qFRkcWhtSyBXfwIymabqxjm6gk3j6pMm0WBXLAYE-700kwQAE4As/s640/blogger-image-1604426954.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdV9_JUIyApH8FerhQuga7z-RzcygfM-z_gvDusYLXP_3D_zGz3JHwamCJHyrEJ8XJaPg3NpLJJNp2Uu5IknD2CH-qFRkcWhtSyBXfwIymabqxjm6gk3j6pMm0WBXLAYE-700kwQAE4As/s640/blogger-image-1604426954.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Allisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15262836212143049594noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6879225361237419168.post-19076884768235591942015-09-01T21:40:00.001-05:002015-09-01T22:37:11.438-05:00A week with our babe and how she got hereExactly one week ago (almost to the minute) Brian and I were in the hospital, awaiting the arrival of our sweet baby girl. <div><br></div><div>Sometimes having a baby doesn't seem real until they come screaming into the world. And my oh my did this one come screaming. She immediately let us know that she was officially here. Her lungs were pretty impressive from the very moment she was born. Lucy Elizabeth was here. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEmJ20haCt-fEUhhD6KdtKRE_fybkHU-qUACnyEx67SoKleKwPWVON8YERNyHspgwR9Uxe9R8qFXWQOBj7dmQdx-SxWuhJw_3LCcG26JVxr9P_zy1H0KutFqaXIrM6J-KTxgOaqdfmWZ8/s640/blogger-image-1592426626.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEmJ20haCt-fEUhhD6KdtKRE_fybkHU-qUACnyEx67SoKleKwPWVON8YERNyHspgwR9Uxe9R8qFXWQOBj7dmQdx-SxWuhJw_3LCcG26JVxr9P_zy1H0KutFqaXIrM6J-KTxgOaqdfmWZ8/s640/blogger-image-1592426626.jpg"></a></div><br></div></div><div><br></div><div>And since that moment, we have been forever changed. It's not because we have four kiddos now. We've had 4 kiddos before. It's more because she's ours, and she'll forever be a part of our messy, beautiful life. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-DGVZFCoZd_UQljVC4JLhurRk5z6h89Cag8jEjiC0v_vWp7swI2ITshn3sUF06xR3T94MPU-J0ZWhg7fVZoBsMq_LlyAm-tsHB8qkHgAV_FouZ2e7-Ar98LszwWs9HT0opPvZmKOSXh0/s640/blogger-image--1569744415.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-DGVZFCoZd_UQljVC4JLhurRk5z6h89Cag8jEjiC0v_vWp7swI2ITshn3sUF06xR3T94MPU-J0ZWhg7fVZoBsMq_LlyAm-tsHB8qkHgAV_FouZ2e7-Ar98LszwWs9HT0opPvZmKOSXh0/s640/blogger-image--1569744415.jpg"></a></div></div><div><br></div><div>In the past year, our lives have changed more than we could have imagined. A year ago in August, my sister and I decided to follow through with genetic testing for BRCA 1 and 2. My mom is a carrier of both genetic mutations. On August 28, 2014, I received a phone call with my results. Just like my momma, I too have both mutations, BRCA 1 and 2. I'll never forget the way I felt in that moment. It wasn't scared. It was more like relief. Like I finally knew the truth about what I had always expected. That may sound morbid or weird, but it's how I felt. I knew it wasn't a mistake, and I knew that I was "fearfully and wonderfully made." None of it was an accident. </div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">That knowledge and the stark reality that came with the discovery is really the reason that our girl is here now. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">Our genetic counselor and my doctors laid out our options. As a BRCA 1 and 2 carrier, the statistics basically say you're going to get breast or ovarian cancer. So our counselors and doctors are encouraging a full hysterectomy and double mastectomy by the time I'm 35. </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">That's a lot of information to process. Of course, we don't have to take that route and there are other options including high risk screening, which I've been a part of for the past year, but it was the knowledge of my mutation that really opened up the conversation of us having another baby now. </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">We knew we wanted four, and a month after we found out about BRCA 1 and 2, we welcomed baby A into our home as our 3rd foster baby. He was 5 months old, and we fell in love. </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFyIMK9VqMlpgT9Y8nmW0wOTs_XUjqldYGurUJdT64AmpWyT_UpFXWevbfR67Q1RcQ7_SGxYDE6w2P2REPcEga8HKawiogHSE77si1ydCTm7Ez1f2y6xRLKOHlrBJao3EGsh9JgZsJGX8/s640/blogger-image--2108338114.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFyIMK9VqMlpgT9Y8nmW0wOTs_XUjqldYGurUJdT64AmpWyT_UpFXWevbfR67Q1RcQ7_SGxYDE6w2P2REPcEga8HKawiogHSE77si1ydCTm7Ez1f2y6xRLKOHlrBJao3EGsh9JgZsJGX8/s640/blogger-image--2108338114.jpg"></a></div></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">We were able to build a relationship with his mom and with the foster family who had his brother. With foster care, you never really know the end game. Will bio mom get the boys back? Will the boys go up for adoption? We weren't sure, but we were hopeful that bio mom would be able to get the boys back. </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">In November, Brian surprised me a little get away weekend. It was that weekend when I asked the question, "We could have 6 right?" I wasn't serious but I was. What if baby A and his brother didn't go back to bio mom? Could we have one more of our own and take both the boys? </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">I felt like I needed to know that we could do that if we needed to. I wasn't betting on it. We were for his momma, doing our best to be the bridge back to his mom. But I needed to know. </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">And that night, we decided we were crazy enough to have 6 if that's what it came to. </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">And now, here she is. It may not be the most romantic entry into the world, but we had this desire for another little girl. I'd dreamt about it. This sort of felt like our last chance at leveling the playing field at the Dalke house. </font></div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZixX8jOh1exFSp7YNt86tBv5a3F_tarn1Vw-HVekmT4ZtqovIinCY19Y35q7TCWTL_gGS8QqR1ij2fFeRNgUibeBJQPus1f2lAZiXPoQdvlRxc2XKWZ4mr0Xcq2ZKUdJjTapp5HhzXxY/s640/blogger-image--425406117.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZixX8jOh1exFSp7YNt86tBv5a3F_tarn1Vw-HVekmT4ZtqovIinCY19Y35q7TCWTL_gGS8QqR1ij2fFeRNgUibeBJQPus1f2lAZiXPoQdvlRxc2XKWZ4mr0Xcq2ZKUdJjTapp5HhzXxY/s640/blogger-image--425406117.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div> A week later, we don't have six babes in our house (I promise to update about baby A soon) but we have four. 2 boys. 2 girls. And one beautiful mess to come over the next 20 years. </div><div><br></div><div>Baby Lucy, it's been one beautiful week. </div><div><br></div>Allisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15262836212143049594noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6879225361237419168.post-10290350057565920942015-05-20T08:59:00.001-05:002015-05-20T08:59:22.102-05:00A birthday cake, Chick-fil-A, and our messy, sticky love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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Every Wednesday, our crazy crew wanders into Chick-fil-A to have lunch. Three mommas and two littles. We are quite the scene. </div>
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The employees at Chick-fil-A know us. They may not know our story, but they know that come rain or shine, we'll be there for lunch every Wednesday without fail. </div>
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This Wednesday was a day of celebration. I hadn't seen Baby A in a week since we were out of the country for my sister-in-laws wedding, and most importantly it's his 1st birthday. His momma brought a cake and presents and a Happy Birthday balloon. </div>
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The sweet lady who walks around the restaurant re-filling drinks and helping with high chairs and delivering orders brought a little "Eat More Chicken" cow over to Baby A to help us celebrate. </div>
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And there we sat, with birthday cake and fried chicken and sweet tea and balloons. Baby A says hi to anyone who looks our way. And when they look, I can't help but wonder what conclusions they come to about our situation. Do they figure out that there are two foster mommas and a bio mom and 2 amazing boys that we're all in love with?</div>
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I wonder what they think. We are quite a sight to be seen. </div>
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I often think about our little lunches. Every week our bio momma gets to see her boys for a couple hours. Every week we share encouragement and advice on parenting. Our desire for her to be more for these boys started as a desire but is moving into reality. </div>
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This week she submitted an application for an apartment. It's a safe community that would be a great fit for her and the boys. She also had a visit with her case worker this week, and it looks like things are moving forward in our case. </div>
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It's a good thing. Positive progress is being made for sure. </div>
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Throughout this journey, I have tried to overthink things and let my head get in the way of my heart. I know now, that that is a pointless battle. Usually our hearts win out. I tried to guard myself from loving this baby too much because I have already felt the pain and mourning of letting babies that I love go back home. </div>
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But he has won my heart and so has his momma. And what appeared to be a case of pain and trauma and loss has become so much more. This particular foster care case has connected our family to two other families....our bio mom and her boys, and Baby A's brother's foster family. </div>
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Our love and our situation is messy and sticky and not always a situation that can be figured out at first glance, but it's one of the most beautiful messes I've ever been in. </div>
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So today, as we celebrate the life of a tiny baby boy.....a baby boy who is well loved by so many. He has changed our hearts and our lives for sure. Happy Birthday sweet boy. </div>
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Allisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15262836212143049594noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6879225361237419168.post-54905742472683034502015-05-13T13:33:00.000-05:002015-05-13T13:33:50.743-05:00Who I am and Where I am <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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It's been a long time since my words have found there way here....onto this screen......for all the world to see. </div>
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I don't know why it's been so long, other than maybe I've been waiting for something. Maybe I thought something would change or something big would happen or I would have this great lightbulb moment. But nothing has really changed and nothing big has happened and I haven't had any major lightbulb moments. </div>
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But my heart has been stirring to write again (as it always does when I'm not writing), and all the while my heart has been stirring, this mean voice in my head says things like "What do you have to write about?" and "Who do you think you are that anyone would care what you have to say." and "Why would your words matter?" and "Someone else can do it better." </div>
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And then today I listened to what I would consider a life-changing podcast by the <a href="http://theinfluencenetwork.com/">Influence Network</a> featuring author Shauna Niequist. Shauna has written several books including <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Bread-Wine-Letter-Around-Recipes/dp/0310328179/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1431538266&sr=1-1&keywords=bread+and+wine">Bread and Wine</a></i>, <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Bittersweet-Thoughts-Change-Grace-Learning/dp/0310328160/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1279605437&sr=1-1">bittersweet</a></i>, <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Cold-Tangerines-Celebrating-Extraordinary-Everyday/dp/0310329302/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1431538349&sr=1-1&keywords=cold+tangerines">cold tangerines</a></i> and her most recent daily devotional titled <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Savor-Living-Abundantly-Where-You/dp/0310344972/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1431538416&sr=1-1&keywords=savor+shauna+niequist"><i>Savor: Living Abundantly Where You Are, As You Are</i></a>. </div>
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Shauna said these words in that podcast that literally opened my eyes to why writing and sharing is so vitally important. </div>
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When I look back at the times that I wrote here, that I shared openly and honestly about our life and our struggles and our journey, those are the times when people came to me and said, "I understand what you mean when you talk about _______. I'm glad I'm not the only one who fears __________. You reminded me that I'm not alone." </div>
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That's ultimately what writing is about. It's not about having life changing stories happen everyday, it's about having ordinary stories happen everyday and having the eyes to see the beauty and perfection in the everyday mess and chaos of life. </div>
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So here's who I am...right now...in this 31-year-old place. </div>
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I am a Christ follower. I am a wife and a mom 1st. I am a leader and an influencer. I am a writer and a thinker. I am a natural introvert. I am a foster mom. I am a mom-to-be {again}. I am a BRCA 1 and 2 carrier. I am a dreamer and a doer. I am a planner. I am a friend and a sister and a daughter. </div>
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And this is where I am. </div>
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I'm in a season of change, not only as we prepare for the birth of our 2nd daughter, but as we prepare for the transition of our 3rd foster baby into another home. In the midst of all that change, I'm in a place of peace that I haven't been in for a long time. There are so many unknowns in our world right now, but I'm willingly resting in a peace that doesn't care about the unknown. I'm trusting that God can write a much better story than I could ever dream of writing. </div>
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I'm in a place where I'm sick of doubt and worry, and I'm running towards grace and grace alone. </div>
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I'm sitting in my quiet office savoring the last few days of a quiet house before all 4 kiddos are home for the Summer, and I'm eating Lucky Charms for lunch because I'm pregnant, and I can. </div>
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I'm in a place where I'm thirsting for knowledge and understanding. I want to learn about (and am learning about) <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Breathe-Making-Sabbath-5-Session-Bible/dp/1430032340/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1431540815&sr=1-1&keywords=breathe">margin</a> and <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Praying-Life-Connecting-Distracting-World/dp/1600063004/ref=sr_1_9?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1431540872&sr=1-9&keywords=prayer">prayer</a> and <a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Best-Yes-Decisions-Endless/dp/1400205859">giving my best yes</a> and <a href="http://www.daveramsey.com/fpu/home/">stewarding well what God has blessed us with</a> and l<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Love-Does-Discover-Secretly-Incredible/dp/1400203759/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1431541019&sr=1-1&keywords=love+does">oving by doing</a> and <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Million-Miles-Thousand-Years-Learned/dp/1400202981/ref=sr_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1431541051&sr=1-3&keywords=donald+miller">living a better story</a>. </div>
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I'm in a place where I'm seeking and creating community, where I'm investing in my kids and my spouse, and doing my very best to use the time I'm given each day in the best way possible. </div>
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And that's it. There is no magic happening here. We don't have any brilliant stories to tell. We are simply living each day as it comes and chasing after a man named Jesus who desperately wants to use us to write one heck of a story. </div>
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So instead of wishing for something else, I'm going to plunge right into this...this space and this time our lives that is exactly what it is and nothing more. </div>
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Allisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15262836212143049594noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6879225361237419168.post-27056989613455978102015-01-26T21:19:00.000-06:002015-01-26T21:19:19.025-06:00I like you, even when I don't try to<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; text-align: left;">There's no need to complicate it</span><br style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; text-align: left;">Dress it up or state it</span><br style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; text-align: left;">Without too much hesitation</span><br style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; text-align: left;">Here's the way I feel</span><br style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;" /><br style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; text-align: left;">I like you, I like you</span><br style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; text-align: left;">Even when I don't try to</span><br style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; text-align: left;">Yes I do, that's the truth </span><br style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; text-align: left;">I like you</span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border: 0px; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;"><br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /></span></blockquote>
The words from Ben Rector's song <i>I Like You, </i>run through my head nearly everyday as I hold Baby A. I sing them to him every night when I lie him down for bed. And even though I like him (and even love him), I'm very clearly pulling away from him.<br />
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It sounds horrible. I know.<br />
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But the best way I know how to describe it is fear, and for whatever reason, it feels good to write it here.....to process it and try to make sense of it.<br />
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Foster care is hard. It's beautiful and messy and exactly what Christ would have the church do, but there isn't anything easy about it. The love part is the hardest for me.<br />
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I go in and out of being head over heels for this baby, and purposefully distancing myself from his little, helpless love and those big brown eyes. I see the way he looks at me. I know how he feels about me. He can't help it. We've had him and loved him for half of his little life.<br />
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But I don't do well with uncertain endings. It's not a normal process of parenting. I feel like I should love him like I love my babies, but he's not mine, and he may never be mine. So how am I supposed to love him like he is mine?<br />
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I know my pulling away from him is selfish. It's a shame-filled attempt at guarding my heart.<br />
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Last night, I tossed and turned in bed, praying for something less selfish to come from my heart, praying that I would be better at this foster parenting thing tomorrow.<br />
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I find myself so often doing this in life....praying for something different....praying for a different outcome. I recently heard Christine Caine say something along the lines of "Nothing is going to change, so make it work the way it is."<br />
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I have to tell myself that everyday. Nothing is changing. He's here. These are the circumstances. No, you're not the best at this. But make it work. Love him anyways.<br />
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I know that what seems impossible to me, isn't impossible to God. I can't keep getting tripped up on my own understanding of the situation.<br />
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We prayed for this baby. We believe that the Lord prepared us for him....to love him and serve him and give him his every desire and need right now, just the way things are.<br />
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I can't try to write the end of his story. God has the honor of doing that. And from our last foster care case, I have to remember that His story, the one he'll write for this little baby and his brother, is such a greater story than I could ever write or ever even imagine.<br />
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These boys are the Lord's first and foremost, and they deserve the best and deepest kind of love. They don't deserve the kind of love that holds back. I know that, so tomorrow, I'll do a little better, forgetting about my own selfish desires to not be hurt and love him the way he loves me.<br />
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I know he has me wrapped up in his love. He does. His smile and his eyes, and the way he looks at me say more than words could ever say. Now I have to re-pay his love with mine. It's the way Christ loves me....never knowing when I'll walk away from His love.....hoping I won't, but loving me relentlessly anyways. What a beautiful gift that kind of love is.<br />
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Allisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15262836212143049594noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6879225361237419168.post-34217846437101081462014-12-06T15:25:00.001-06:002014-12-21T01:51:14.405-06:00Do Something Wonderful....even if you have to do it scared<div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; text-align: left;">
I have put off writing this blog post this year because I've let myself get scared. I've let myself stop believing in the generosity of others. I've let myself believe that people are too busy or that no one really cares. I've told myself that we don't have enough time.</div>
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Fear can stop you, if you let it. </div>
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But I've decided I'm not in the mood to let fear stop me this year, so I'm going to do it scared. </div>
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We {that would be you and I and all the people we know} have the ability to make a big impact this Christmas as we help provide Christmas for 8 amazing Hope Link families. </div>
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Hope Link is a non-profit organization that is incredibly special to me. I was shaken up and changed in the most amazing way by a little girl named Ellie Kate (whose birthday was this week!). Ellie was a gift to my soul. She never spoke a word to me but she changed the words in my heart. She helped me understand Christ's love in a way I didn't know was possible. </div>
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Whether you can buy 1 gift or 100, we would love your support. Will you share with your friends, with your families, with your co-workers or teams? Will you challenge them to help us fulfill this giant list? We would be so grateful.<br />
Please have all gifts sent to:<br />
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She taught me about love and sacrifice; eternity and hope. And I am forever grateful for that. Ellie is no longer here on this earth. But her influence and the influence of her family lives on for all to see. </div>
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Ellie's mom, Ryan Elizabeth, started a non-profit organization with a good friend of hers, Amy, that provides support and hope to families who have children with rare, serious or undiagnosed conditions. </div>
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These families are selfless, inspiring, and filled with joy. Many of our Hope Link families have buried children. And most of them have not only a child with special needs, but also typical children too. Most of these families spend extended periods of time in the hospital every year, often multiple times a year and many battle medical debt, insane insurance issues, and are in a constant search for medical equipment that they need for their children. </div>
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These unique families need all the hope and love the world can show them, and that's what we hope to do this Christmas. </div>
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I know you have a budget and a plan to stick to. I get it. So do we, but there is something you can do. We've created a Hope Link Amazon wish list this year. Each of our nominated families (8 all together) sent in their wish lists, and we complied them into one big dream list! </div>
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OR if you're feeling brave, we would love for you to adopt a family and shop specifically for that family. You'll be able to learn about the family and their special needs child and even make the delivery drop off if you live in the OKC area, if you want to.</div>
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We are strong together, and we can do great things when we're united....won't you join us and give hope to a few families who so desperately need it this Christmas? Will you help me do something wonderful this year? </div>
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To buy a gift from our Hope Link Wishlist now or to share with others, go to <a href="http://r20.rs6.net/tn.jsp?f=0016bbe8Mjig81WZZPGcVH0nO2ypapJZ6aN6zYJd0v8UuPr545uOBw1xCGdisCy07Ne6YlM6WyQ_-r3LA00VyUo6qfsavh407Zgi99MMOiTuYPlNr917NS-rL1-qtZYL0D4qQRmqsQ0rCf5aGOUyMQEOVjBMHoR7zILNR2mEopa-ctMMbdWRDwpks5Kxg8ZQvkL_QllHwFQxLQYiRn-6DVi7Q==&c=Tg4-dIj1I1m_dH-Vdei8t7XQIB2bnhd6ud5v9V4olsiwOvZ2y--XAg==&ch=bvwieXItvguVzje05jkr3m_K10Op490fewWDY5Dco1WHFKC5nT4MXg==" shape="rect" style="color: #a20000;" target="_blank">our Amazon Hope Link Wish List</a>. </div>
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Hope Link OKC</div>
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c/o Allison Dalke </div>
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23020 Lauren Lane</div>
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Edmond, OK 73025 </div>
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Allisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15262836212143049594noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6879225361237419168.post-33229421152559069152014-11-27T01:01:00.002-06:002014-11-27T01:01:42.496-06:00Sometimes I write because I have to.....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
There's a 12-foot, unlit Christmas tree in my living room, place settings for 28 people to eat dinner tomorrow night in my dining room, and more words in my soul than I can even begin to count. </div>
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Sometimes I write because I want to, and sometimes I write because I have to. My mind stops working properly and all I can think about are words that I want to put on a page....words that I need to speak. </div>
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It's been a long time since I've let words come out. A really long time. </div>
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It's mostly because I haven't been me. I haven't felt like myself. I've been sad and overwhelmed and consumed. </div>
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We have this baby living with us. You may know him as Baby A. </div>
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As expected, he's rocked my world. He's changed me. And I like him. A lot. </div>
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And when I let myself think about it too much, foster care is hard. </div>
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But when I don't think about it, and I just do it, foster care isn't hard at all. </div>
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Foster care is a constant reminder that this world is not where we belong. It's a reminder that we all come from brokenness and we are all broken. We're imperfect people living in a world full of sin. </div>
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Foster care is a reminder that this world is uncomfortable and messy, and at the end of the day, none of us measure up. We can't do it on our own. And that's okay. </div>
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I'll be honest, there are days I wish we weren't doing this....life would be so much easier right now if we weren't in this mess. But if we weren't in this mess, we wouldn't have him. </div>
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I know, I know.....so many of you look on and wonder how we can bring ourselves to do it. How do you love a baby and give him back? </div>
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I don't know. I really don't. That's the hard and messy part of all of this. </div>
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I didn't know I could love a baby that wasn't mine like this. I didn't know I could ever picture myself as his momma. But I do sometimes. </div>
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And then there's his momma, who will sit with our family tomorrow night for Thanksgiving dinner. She's just a babe herself. And there are days like today when I see her and talk to her and think about the reality of her life and I can't help but think of how different we are while in the same breath think about how very much the same we are. </div>
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Her life looks nothing like mine. Never has. Maybe never will. And I'm not for a second saying that we have it figured out. Read 2 posts on this blog and you'll quickly see that I have no clue what the heck I'm talking about, ever. </div>
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But I am saying that it's possible to be very much the same and very much different at the same time. </div>
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I wonder why she ended up where she is and why I ended up where I am. Education, resources, support....all those things matter so very much. I had them. She didn't. </div>
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And now here we are. </div>
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Somehow divinely intertwined. She being part of my story. Me being part of hers. </div>
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Both of us in love with the same boy. </div>
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Isn't it always the boys that catch us ladies up? </div>
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She having every right to love him. I have just as much right to love him too. </div>
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And tonight, this is where we are. In this messy place called life. Praying daily that Christ takes center stage in however this story plays out....that He'll show up and show off in some miraculous way that only He can. </div>
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All the while, everything in me wants to write the end of this story. I can see a happy ending. I can write it now and be done with it all. </div>
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But.....</div>
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I'm not the author, and I don't know what's best. I can believe all day long that I know what's best for this baby, but I don't. I can't see the future. I don't know how it plays out, and no matter how much I want to write the ending, I won't try. I won't do it. </div>
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What I will do is love him like he's mine. Not because I want him forever, but because that's what he deserves. Right now, he's part of our family. Will he always be? Yes. Whether he is physically here or not. Just like Shade and Ryleigh are a part of our family, Baby A will forever be Baby A in our lives. You can't forget him. You can't unlove him. He's here. He's part of us. </div>
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That's what foster care is. It's love. Simply and truly....love. </div>
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Allisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15262836212143049594noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6879225361237419168.post-2179906213887788422014-10-30T00:06:00.001-05:002014-10-30T00:06:37.047-05:00God's Got It, Mom<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I have never in my entire life been this angry. Nothing has ever made me this mad. </div>
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I've never yelled so much or cried so much in a single day as I did today. </div>
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I received a call this morning that Baby A and his brother would be placed with a family willing to take both them tomorrow. </div>
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That's when the yelling started. Tomorrow? Seriously? </div>
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And they were serious. So serious that every person I talked to acted like I was an insane person for trying to get the boys some much needed transition time to make the move to this new foster home. </div>
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Here's the thing, our intent is not, was not, has never been to keep this baby forever. We love him like he's ours because that's what he deserves and if it came down to, we would absolutely adopt him. But that's not what this is about. </div>
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We believe that it's best for these boys to be together in the right situation. They're brothers. That bond is one that they will hopefully have their entire lives. A sibling bond is so very important, especially to a child in foster care. </div>
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Last week, there was a potential placement for the boys. It was with another family in our agency. We met with the foster mom and her daughter and niece at Chic-fil-A. She held Baby A and asked questions about him and his brother, and we answered. And we told her the truth. </div>
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That same day, she called our agency and told them she couldn't take the boys. I don't know what she said. I've heard so many versions of it at this point that I don't know who to believe anymore. </div>
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And ever since that day, everything has been different. Our worker told Brian today that we sabotaged the placement and because of that, they couldn't risk us meeting these new foster parents and having another failed placement. </div>
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So basically, if you want the cliff notes version, because we met this mom and told her all about these boys, and she decided not to take them, we became the bad guys, and we have been ever since. </div>
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I have felt like a criminal today. Like I have done something wrong. The last time I checked, all I did was love this baby like he was my own. Loved him. Fought for him. Invested in him. Invested in his momma. And now, because I might sabotage the next placement, we can't transition the boys. </div>
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That's what's happening, and I'm not one bit okay with it. </div>
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I've never been this angry. I don't know that I've ever felt righteous anger until today. </div>
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Brian was driving Addison to church tonight and telling her that Baby A would probably be going to a new home tomorrow and that we might not get to see him again. And she said that she knew because "momma was really mad today." </div>
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My kids saw me fight today. They say me cry. They heard me yell. And then tonight, Brian got to tell Addison about what righteous anger is. He said it's okay to be angry when your angry for the right reasons. That's what righteous anger is. He told her about Jesus coming into the temple and being righteously angry at the vendors there selling their goods. Jesus was angry, and He had every right to be angry. </div>
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And even though everyone involved keeps treating me like I'm crazy because I'm asking for a healthy transition for these boys, I know I'm angry for the right reasons. </div>
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I've talked to so many people today and heard so many sides to so many stories that I honestly don't know who to believe anymore. </div>
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I've also made new friends today and learned that everyone involved is somewhat bound by these crazy policies. (Did you know that because we haven't had these boys for 3 months, we don't have to have any notice before they're removed from our homes? None at all. It's a real policy. And it's insane.) </div>
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I'm so worn and so exhausted and so lit up at the same time. I'm not okay with things like this happening. From the outside looking in, it may seem trivial to you. So he's moving? So you didn't get any notice? He won't remember any of this anyways. </div>
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Really? Do you know how vital infant bonding is for lifetime attachment issues? It's the most important thing. This baby was taken from his momma....one minute she was there, the next she was gone, and then all of a sudden, the same thing will happen with our family. We've loved him, taken care of him, made him feel safe and secure for the past 6 weeks, and within minutes tomorrow, we will simply be gone. Do you have any idea what that does to a baby psychologically? It's detrimental. DHS takes children out of bad situations and then allows for emotional situations to take place that are no different than what they experienced when originally taken from mom. The emotional toll is substantial and serious. How will he ever learn how to love and trust if we just walk out the door? </div>
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It's crazy to me. Simply crazy. </div>
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I keep telling everyone that I'm 100% on board for him going to a place where he can be with his brother. 100%. But not like this. Not overnight. He's not in an unhealthy situation. He doesn't need to be rescued from anything. But that's how everyone is acting. </div>
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Go take him from them quick! They love him too much! What if they want to keep him forever? Really? What's the problem people?! I thought I was supposed to love him like that. I thought I was supposed to fight for what's right for him. No one else is. </div>
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What's best for these boys? A healthy transition. I'm not asking for weeks. Even a few days will do. </div>
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Not only is there no transition, I was also told today that we would not be able to meet or talk to the new family. I was assured tonight that was not the case, but I'm not sure who to trust anymore. </div>
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I don't know what tomorrow holds. I do know that this child was never mine. My children aren't even mine. They belong to the Lord. I know that He will protect them, cover them, and make a way for them. His promises are true and have been prayed over each of my children...including Baby A many, many times. </div>
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Tonight in the car when Brian was telling Addison about what righteous anger is, she asked for a piece of paper, and she wrote me these words: </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRh-wYUFwSVGESnc8_fSie-zSUFLPQvNilpaV7xCkiKgQVPYjd1KuVXx9KbC46_mkkLylreCQ5JDbfCgNgIrlFsJK-ijmhx1hXZnO_oHFD9hApEj97Vn6KlWPyhmsTwM_UNS-YuUBXit8/s1600/God's%2Bgot%2Bit.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRh-wYUFwSVGESnc8_fSie-zSUFLPQvNilpaV7xCkiKgQVPYjd1KuVXx9KbC46_mkkLylreCQ5JDbfCgNgIrlFsJK-ijmhx1hXZnO_oHFD9hApEj97Vn6KlWPyhmsTwM_UNS-YuUBXit8/s1600/God's%2Bgot%2Bit.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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And before I could publish this post, that sweet baby woke up (he never does that!), and I got a text from the Founder and Executive Director of our agency (at 11:00 pm) saying that she wants to make this transition slower. </div>
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I was honestly shocked and impressed. We talked earlier this evening, and I felt like I was finally being heard, and I feel like she went to front lines for me and with me, and I'm impressed. </div>
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Now we trust that the Lord has it. That he'll make a way for her to convince the people who need convincing that these boys need a transition. </div>
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Tonight, a little bit of hope has been restored. God's got it. God will take care of it.....yes, baby. Yes, He will. </div>
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Allisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15262836212143049594noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6879225361237419168.post-43165181425854421212014-10-26T23:38:00.000-05:002014-10-26T23:38:03.848-05:00A Hard Week<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I know that I've been quiet lately....both here and on social media, and it's mostly because, we've had a rough week. </div>
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Last week was just hard. There aren't any other words to describe it. </div>
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We thought Baby A was being moved to a new placement with a new foster family that was willing to take both him and his brother. It ended up not working out. </div>
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I'm not sure if I'm glad that I was silent thru it all or if I wish I written thru it. I'll probably wish I had written about it later, but I didn't. </div>
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There are details and issues that probably don't need to be discussed here. There were things that happened with this potential new placement that simply made me angry. Righteously angry. </div>
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We met the new foster mom last week. She was great. She'll be a great foster mom. And here's the thing, I agree that our boys need to be together (if and only if, the situation is better than the one they're currently in). If we're going to break bonds that have been made, it better be for the absolute best case scenario. </div>
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And this new foster family was not that scenario. Not because there was anything wrong, but because I could see it all over her face......she was going to be overwhelmed with these boys and her child. I would have been. And that's the last thing we want. We do not want families taking children because they feel forced or backed into a corner, and that's sort of what happened. She felt like her hand was forced, so she said she'd take them. </div>
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But that's how we lose foster families. That's how we get failed placements. </div>
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To say that it was a hard week is really an understatement. </div>
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I've questioned so many things this week. I've thrown my nose into God's word because I don't know the answers to all this mess. </div>
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But last night, we had the opportunity to hear Bob Goff speak at the Angels Foster Family Network annual auction and dinner. He was amazing. There are really no words to describe him. </div>
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He talked about Jesus and loving the way Christ loved. Actively loving. </div>
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And then he said this: "If you love that extravagantly, Jesus will carry you." </div>
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And I cried. Right there at the table with the fancy dessert and that stupid satin napkin that wouldn't stay on my lap. Tears fell from my eyes because I couldn't keep them in. </div>
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He's right. All I can do is love. All I can do is love him like he's mine. All I can do is love his momma like she's family. </div>
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Yes, that means hurt will come. Yes, that means this road will be long and rocky, but it also means that I'll never be the same, and if it all crumbles one day....whether it turns out best case scenario or worst, Christ will catch us. All of us. Because we chose to love. </div>
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Allisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15262836212143049594noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6879225361237419168.post-14693682733303348912014-10-20T01:09:00.000-05:002014-10-20T01:09:28.027-05:00I hardly ever know what I'm doing <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
My kids think I pooped in my panties, and I hardly ever know what I'm doing. It's been a rough day, folks. </div>
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I wish those were exaggerations or lies, but both statements are very, very true. </div>
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My children do very much believe that I pooped in my panties a little today. My daughter found a pair of panties soaking in one of the sinks in my bathroom. She was horrified and wanted to know what on earth was in my panties. My son, of course, knew exactly what it was....has to be poop. What else could it be? </div>
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I really hope you're laughing and not completely grossed out, but this is life people. Sometimes you need to soak your panties, and sometimes your above mentioned children conclude that the reason you are soaking your panties is because you pooped a little. {For the record, I didn't poop.} </div>
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"Mom, did you think it was just a toot?" questions the 5 year old. </div>
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"Yes, baby. I thought it was just a toot." </div>
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Things are not always what they appear. Very rarely are things the way they appear actually. The more years I spend on this crazy planet, the more I understand that. </div>
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I really hardly ever know what I'm doing. I mean, does any parent really have any clue how to do this successfully? And not even in parenting or foster care, I very rarely ever know what I'm doing in business or life either. </div>
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Really. Hardly ever am I sure that I'm doing the right thing. </div>
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I've observed that many successful women operate in the same belief. They don't know what they're doing....they mostly just fake it until they make it. That phrase is popular because it's real. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiswG_6kdRFW6uAPDg451liu8eXiQdzm6Y3u0XN3kP1iKbzPYhUf_uHY2JTEcKQqNidsGc-SCknigTaOcsqMfnvHV7B0beGrRiMD4lZbDY4ORiHV6pIeDsoUkvLoXAL1ZLcxtwy6jNx-oA/s1600/fake+it.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiswG_6kdRFW6uAPDg451liu8eXiQdzm6Y3u0XN3kP1iKbzPYhUf_uHY2JTEcKQqNidsGc-SCknigTaOcsqMfnvHV7B0beGrRiMD4lZbDY4ORiHV6pIeDsoUkvLoXAL1ZLcxtwy6jNx-oA/s1600/fake+it.jpg" height="640" width="640" /></a></div>
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I was talking to a girl who I would absolutely love to have on my Scentsy team today. She reminds me of myself. 100%. She doesn't want to misstep. She wants to do it right if she decides to do it, but she has everything it takes to be a successful business owner. I was telling her that I really had no idea what I was doing when I started as a Scentsy consultant. I just always acted like I knew exactly what I was doing. </div>
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To be successful, you don't have to have all the answers, you just have to be willing to find them when they arise. It's really pretty simple. </div>
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If we always waited to do things until we thought we were equipped or ready or fully qualified, we would never accomplish anything. I think that's why so many people sit back and wait for things to happen to them. Maybe when they lose 10 lbs or when they have more time or when they feel better about their circumstances....maybe then. </div>
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What about now?</div>
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I fail everyday in so many areas of my life. I have no idea how to parent 3 kids and a foster baby. I have no clue how to be the best wife for my man. I don't know how to inspire other people or lead them to success. I really don't. But I do it all. Every day. Somehow, all those things happen. </div>
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We can't just sit around waiting for things to be perfect. </div>
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Perfection doesn't exist. </div>
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Maybe today is the day. Maybe today is the day that you hit the gym for the 1st time in months or maybe today is the day you start a new business. Maybe today is the day you love your spouse the way he deserves to be loved. Why can't today be the day? </div>
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You're never going to figure it out. I'm never going to figure it out, but that isn't stopping me. Get up and do it anyways. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_fdXjwJ5vNsBD36_K_hqi1i3311pY43iu-5oyYvVML8V3tvbST4fn1S679nAluIHPqyy5jZ3ULExlEyfxuKLuWLcUXZJ3t6mAag2HJQW6czrAY_GPbTMtMhCHt2hIXLPlwOxS7V6byC4/s1600/become+it.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_fdXjwJ5vNsBD36_K_hqi1i3311pY43iu-5oyYvVML8V3tvbST4fn1S679nAluIHPqyy5jZ3ULExlEyfxuKLuWLcUXZJ3t6mAag2HJQW6czrAY_GPbTMtMhCHt2hIXLPlwOxS7V6byC4/s1600/become+it.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
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Whatever it is. You don't have to know what you're doing. I hardly ever know what I'm doing. But that doesn't stop me from charging the darkness or doing things that I think are bigger than me. Fake it until you become it. You can. </div>
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And even if you have a day when your kids think you pooped in your panties, pretend you did (even if you didn't) because maybe that's easier than explaining the truth to a 5 and 7 year old. </div>
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Allisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15262836212143049594noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6879225361237419168.post-82872559622327775242014-10-18T00:22:00.000-05:002014-10-18T00:22:04.818-05:00An overdue update on all these babies and us<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
There's a handsome guy living with us who celebrated his half birthday this week. He's getting bigger everyday. And louder too. Baby A is quite comfortable around here now, and he's good about vocalizing that. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjoy-xwaCspylW5K84eQksS26kZ88zZOEevkun1hy1AlUFF_EXWkmk4Jpx8iaJ4KLTziLS9kXBmVhkhBL439n1MY-LCw0ELzLbwfHJPKdsLbZ085SW0t5rYUF9brpS8Z_qNBZA2O5ralc/s1600/6+months.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjoy-xwaCspylW5K84eQksS26kZ88zZOEevkun1hy1AlUFF_EXWkmk4Jpx8iaJ4KLTziLS9kXBmVhkhBL439n1MY-LCw0ELzLbwfHJPKdsLbZ085SW0t5rYUF9brpS8Z_qNBZA2O5ralc/s1600/6+months.jpg" height="640" width="640" /></a></div>
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The other littles living in my house are awesome. They each come with their challenges, but that's the fun of parenting isn't it? </div>
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Addison is a big helper around the house (most of the time). She's also stubborn and sassy, which I'm actually glad about. She's going to be one amazing leader one day. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKVNrGxujxVWknKZNdnpjJaebrUWu6IRVVbYRvlBye2pa9TV6LjC1H6KR3dcnnmtW-vXYAowrC_x35mOIc9raXerSMOpYXEMPkU7gDZv1HhSfUngp1idqbmUfAItazTFuoGK4nIzSAXcE/s1600/oct16addy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKVNrGxujxVWknKZNdnpjJaebrUWu6IRVVbYRvlBye2pa9TV6LjC1H6KR3dcnnmtW-vXYAowrC_x35mOIc9raXerSMOpYXEMPkU7gDZv1HhSfUngp1idqbmUfAItazTFuoGK4nIzSAXcE/s1600/oct16addy.jpg" height="640" width="640" /></a></div>
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Luke is learning so much in kindergarten. He comes home spelling new words everyday, and he's gone from being a shy little man to a guy with quite a lot to say. He can also be stubborn in a strong, silent way for which I am also grateful. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVhakDYGKV0gbi7n5OwZiGoM3qgKwdDUMqLOeErS785vDgbEG5P96V7g-N6w6394N6VupAeMQgDmbdPKre7tgtjStM8FWLkP1e9vdP_qprphGR7lvUCWhGWdLT6b_bteEcEZcr0XQo4ng/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVhakDYGKV0gbi7n5OwZiGoM3qgKwdDUMqLOeErS785vDgbEG5P96V7g-N6w6394N6VupAeMQgDmbdPKre7tgtjStM8FWLkP1e9vdP_qprphGR7lvUCWhGWdLT6b_bteEcEZcr0XQo4ng/s1600/photo.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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And Wyatt.....well it's a good thing he's cute. With just a couple of weeks before his second birthday, he is giving me a run for my money. He's entertaining and funny and a true joy, but he's also learning how to stand his ground, how to use the word no, and how to raid the pantry and refrigerator without permission. </div>
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And then there's us. </div>
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Brian has been traveling this month. He took his annual hunting trip and brought home an elk that filled our freezer full of good meat. Now he's in Vegas for his best friend's bachelor party for the weekend. </div>
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I have been here. Adjusting. Attempting to survive life as a single mom of four. (It was only a week, but it was challenging!) There are all the normal mom and wife and business owner things and then there are all the foster care things. And there is this heaviness that won't seem to leave. </div>
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The past few weeks has left me feeling like I'm pretty crappy at all the roles I currently hold. I've allowed the devil to lie to me over and over again. </div>
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<i>I'm not good enough. </i></div>
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<i>I don't have anything meaningful to say. </i></div>
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<i>I don't have time to workout. </i></div>
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<i>I don't have the time or energy to effectively lead. </i></div>
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<i>Date my husband? What is that? </i></div>
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Lies, lies, lies. But it's easy to let them creep in and let them begin to settle into our hearts as truth. </div>
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I know that allowing this baby into our lives has changed things. Of course he has. He's a new life and a new little love that we have to give time, energy, attention, and love to. He's changed everything. That's what babies do. </div>
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But I haven't allowed myself the time to be still, to study, to remember what we're doing here anyways. </div>
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I have let myself stop writing. I have let myself stop running. I have let myself stop studying God's word, and I'm a wreck because of it.</div>
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All the things that keep me healthy and normal and functioning have gone to the wayside. How does one let that happen? How could I have let all those things go? Those things matter so much. </div>
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But I did. And I have. And I need to get back to a place where I feel like me again. </div>
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It's slowly happening. We're adjusting to Baby A. We're adjusting to a new schedule and new responsibilities. </div>
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And I'm re-evaluating everything. I'm re-evaluating my time and money and resources. I need to work smarter, not harder. I need to question everything. Every hour. Every minute. Every responsibility. Every Yes. </div>
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I need to be intentional again. So it's coming. I'm coming. I'm on my way back. I'm allowing myself some grace in the midst of the mess of life, and I'm on my way back to a place where things make sense to me again. I'll be there soon. </div>
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Oh and I'm taking a photography class because it feels good and sometimes we should do things that feel good. </div>
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Allisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15262836212143049594noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6879225361237419168.post-71546514396022505722014-10-12T23:36:00.003-05:002014-10-13T11:19:33.126-05:00Would you pray for us? <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I ate chocolate cake and a bowl of grape nuts for dinner, and now it's 11:30 pm and I'm sitting in my office attempting to catch up on work un-done this week. </div>
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That worn feeling hasn't left. I still feel heavy and burdened from the weight of these babes. Specifically the newest addition. </div>
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The foster mom who has Baby A's brother called today to tell me that our social worker called her on Friday asking if they (she and her husband) had seriously considered taking Baby A, because if they weren't willing to take him, the boys were going to be moved and moved soon. </div>
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It's almost been a month. Four weeks of this baby's life have been spent with us, and they want to put them together. Baby A and his brother are both thriving where they are. Why move them? </div>
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This is the part of foster care that is so incredibly hard. It's the reason we almost said no to him....I knew this would happen. I'm honestly a little irritated that our agency took the case and said they could place boys when they knew that they did not have a single family that would or could take them both. </div>
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So, because of that, the boys were split up. And now it's complicated. We love Baby A. His brother's foster family loves him, and DHS policy says they need to be together. </div>
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I understand the sibling bond. I do. I would want my kids together. But in the same breath, these boys are happy, healthy, thriving. And they are both with families who are willing and anxious to work with bio mom towards reunification. And we're committed to doing life together so these boys will continue to have a bond while they're in care. How does it make sense to move them? </div>
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My heart is just heavy. This part is hard. I don't believe it's in the best interest of either of the boys for them to be moved at this point, but no one else seems to care. Policy is policy. Individual circumstances apparently don't matter. </div>
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And I'm beginning to wonder where our advocate is. No one is standing on our side watching the way we love these boys. No one is fighting for what's best for the boys except for us. </div>
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Maybe I'm being selfish because I want him here. But I don't think I am. I can see the way he responds to my voice. I watch him turn his head when I walk in a room. Why would we continue to break bonds that this baby has established? That's where the system is broken. Let us love him. Let us love his brother and his brother's foster family. Let us do what we can to help this momma gain the knowledge and skills she needs to get her babies back. We want to be a part of that process. We are willing to do the work. </div>
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My heart's heavy. That's all. I want it to be different than it is. </div>
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And at the end of the day, I will choose to trust that the Lord knows the end of the story and that He will guide the decisions of every person involved whether they stay or whether they go. </div>
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Would you pray for our babies? We would so greatly appreciate it.</div>
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Allisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15262836212143049594noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6879225361237419168.post-45781580097160968512014-10-10T23:37:00.000-05:002014-10-11T00:39:26.491-05:00Meeting Mom<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I have to admit. I over thought what I should wear to meet Baby A's bio mom. </div>
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Should I go with my daily uniform of skinny jeans, a v-neck tee, and flats or should I go more casual? (yes, the before mentioned is dressing up for me....don't judge me, I work from home. I can wear what I want.) </div>
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I seriously thought about these things. </div>
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I went with workout clothes because I really did have every intent to go run, but it didn't actually happen. (Don't judge me again.) </div>
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I wonder if she thought about what she should wear, about what she should say, about how she should react. Did she consider those things? </div>
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Was she as nervous to meet us as I was to meet her? </div>
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My heart raced as I carried this tiny baby that I have come to love across a rainy parking lot into a DHS building. As I made my way thru the metal detector, I couldn't help but wonder if she was on the other side of the glass in the waiting area. Was she here? Would she show? </div>
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I hoped she would.<i> Please be here. What will I think if you don't show?</i></div>
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We made our way thru security with Baby A still sleeping peacefully in his carrier, and as I got my wits about me, I saw the worker come around the corner with mom right behind her. </div>
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<i>Hi. It's great to finally meet you. My name is Allison. He is so wonderful.</i> </div>
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We shook hands, and my heart stopped racing as quickly as it had started. </div>
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She is just a person. Just a person with no resources, no support, and no one to help when she needed it most. Any of us could have been her. I can't judge her. I can't be mad at her. I can't even blame her. </div>
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What I can do is commit to loving her the way I love her baby. </div>
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At the end of the day it's not DHS's job to make sure these families get back together. It's the job of the church. </div>
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I could care less about DHS's policies and regulations and "plans" (although I will follow them), what I care about is giving this young momma hope and the resources she needs to get back on her feet. She needs people in her life who will love her not because of her past but because of her future. </div>
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That future is unwritten at the moment, and yes, she will have to do the work necessary to get her babies back, but we signed up to help re-write stories. That's what foster care is really about. </div>
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It's about breaking the chains of generational poverty and generational abuse and generational drug use. It's about providing resources and hope to people who have none. It's about charging the darkness in pursuit of life change. </div>
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I promise I'm not overly optimistic. I made that mistake last time. I thought I could help our bio momma change. In reality, I was the one who needed changing. </div>
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I'm not that naive now. I know that only she and Christ can make that change. But I can support her. I can believe in her. I can give her hope in a situation that may seem hopeless. </div>
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I can pray for her, with her, over her, and I can love her baby while she can't. </div>
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That's what I'm called to do, and that's exactly what we'll do. </div>
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I know that Christ can make beautiful things from dust. And I expect nothing less. <i>Lord, give us something beautiful out of this dust. </i></div>
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Allisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15262836212143049594noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6879225361237419168.post-60794092497601827592014-10-09T00:01:00.000-05:002014-10-11T00:04:29.902-05:00When being worn is a gift<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I know I haven't been writing a lot lately. </div>
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Here's the deal. I'm usually a very positive and uplifting person. I can see the good in most situations and for the most part, I believe in people. </div>
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But lately I have felt worn. Incredibly worn. </div>
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The lyrics from the Tenth Avenue North song titled <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UUEy8nZvpdM">Worn</a> are exactly how I've felt lately. </div>
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If you've never heard it, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UUEy8nZvpdM">listen to it now.</a> </div>
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But I'm not surprised that I feel this way. I believe that there is more to this world than what we can see. I believe that there always has been and always will be a spiritual battle to be fought, and we are often in the midst of that battle.<br />
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When life is easy and comfortable, the devil usually leaves you alone. Why would he bother with mediocre. He's after people willing to charge the darkness in the name of Christ.<br />
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Doing hard things. Doing things you feel called to. Stepping out in faith to walk outside your comfort zone.....those are the things that tick the devil off.<br />
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And that's where those feelings of heaviness come from. The little daily attacks on my mind, body, spirit, and household, I'm over them.<br />
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I am changing though.<br />
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Once again, the Lord is using a circumstance like foster care to make me different and new. And change is hard, but ridding myself of selfish desires, that's good. I'm not there yet, but I'm getting closer.<br />
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This heaviness....this feeling of being <i>worn, even before the day begins </i>is a gift. It reminds me that we were not made for this world. This is not where we end up.<br />
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The lack of comfort I feel in my day-to-day life makes me yearn for heaven, and that is the greatest gift of all. I know I'm not done here, but to understand that this is not our resting place is a gift, and for that I am grateful.<br />
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Allisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15262836212143049594noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6879225361237419168.post-70392346984778059052014-10-08T00:01:00.002-05:002014-10-08T00:01:26.843-05:00Loving him<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I whispered the words "<i>I love you</i>" to him for the first time a few days ago. </div>
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I don't know how it happened. It just came out. </div>
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But isn't that what I was supposed to do? Love him? </div>
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Yes. That's exactly what I am supposed to do. </div>
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But loving him makes this sticky and complicated and hard. The best and hardest thing about foster care is the love. </div>
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He is perfectly perfect. The situation is anything but perfect. It's so far from perfect, it literally hurts. </div>
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It is so hard for me to write right now. </div>
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I feel like I'm harboring anger and resentment and so many other things. </div>
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I'm happy. I really am, but there are moments when I feel so heavy. I don't know how else to explain it. </div>
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I feel worn on the inside. </div>
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This baby is simply amazing. And it's so hard to think about the possibility of him leaving. We were supposed to meet with mom on Monday, but no one could get a hold of her, so we had a sibling visit instead. </div>
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I'm so grateful that he's not older. I'm so grateful that I don't have to explain to him why his momma didn't show up to see him. </div>
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I don't know why she didn't show. I want to believe there was a reason. I do. It's just hard to believe that. </div>
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But I have to remember that this is a world I have never been a part of. This momma had no one to list on her "important people" sheet. It's a piece of paper that DHS uses to determine if there is anyone kin to the children who would be willing and able to take the children or support mom as she works her plan. She had no one to list. </div>
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That makes my heart hurt. </div>
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How do you raise a 2 year old and a baby with no resources and no help? </div>
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I couldn't do it. </div>
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I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't had any support when Addy and Luke were little. I don't know what I would do now if I didn't have the help I have. </div>
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That saying "it takes a village to raise a child".....it's true. It takes an entire village, and if you don't have one person to write down, oh goodness. </div>
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This whole process is incredibly complicated. There are so many people involved and so much waiting that has to happen. </div>
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Right now, I would love for you to pray over our sweet baby and his brother. DHS is going to attempt to get them placed together, and while I understand the sibling bond, I also understand what happens when littles get moved over and over again. One placement is enough. They are both happy and thriving, and we both want to keep them where they are. </div>
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We are committed to getting together weekly to let the boys be together in addition to their visits with mom, and we are committed to working with mom towards reunification. </div>
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Ultimately, I know none of this is up to me. Whatever happens with Baby A, I will choose to trust the Lord's plan. </div>
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Allisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15262836212143049594noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6879225361237419168.post-79369439597803584192014-10-05T22:38:00.000-05:002014-10-05T22:38:34.921-05:00The struggle is real <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This gets harder everyday. Foster care brings both it's joys and challenges. </div>
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It keeps getting harder mostly because I know that Baby A could move at any point in time, and we fall a little more in love with him everyday. </div>
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He is one of two littles, so there is always the chance that he will be placed in a home where he can be together with his brother. The sibling bond is a strong and important bond that DHS attempts to keep intact. We are grateful that Baby A's brother was placed with another family in our agency. We picked the boys up at the same time, so we were able to establish a relationship, and have talked almost everyday since the boys have been placed. It's been great to have another amazing family to share this journey with. </div>
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Tomorrow is supposed to be the boys 1st visit with mom. </div>
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I'll be honest, I'm a wreck. </div>
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I know this is what we signed up for, and we believe in the system, but no one knows anything about mom. I have no idea if she's even asked about the boys. </div>
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That, and I have been falling in love with this baby for the past 3 weeks. He fits easily into our family. We all love Baby A, and we love having him here. </div>
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It's a different feeling than I had with our 1st placement. I loved Shade and Ryleigh, but there was always something that reminded me that they were not mine and weren't supposed to be mine. I don't even know how to explain that, but it's what we knew in our souls. And those thoughts were right. Those babies would be reunited with mom in the best case scenario. </div>
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The system can work. I've seen it happen. But I also know that bio parents have to be willing to work for their babies. That's what it takes every time. Effort. The willingness to change behaviors. The willingness to learn new skills. </div>
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And I have no clue yet if our bio momma is going to have that drive. Sometimes you can't tell at first. Sometimes you know instantly. </div>
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I have to remind myself everyday that our goal is reunification. That's what foster care is about. It's an attempt to break what are often generational behaviors to help change lives for the better. </div>
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And it's our job to fight and advocate for this baby. No one else really will. The case worker is supposed to be the case worker for the mom and the boys, but she's really mom's case worker. Her goal is to get everyone back together no matter what. </div>
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Our goal is to make sure this baby boy and his brother are always kept at the forefront of everyone's minds. They're why we're all in this beautiful mess in the 1st place. </div>
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In a phrase written by a fellow foster mom, <i>the struggle is real</i>. </div>
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Allisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15262836212143049594noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6879225361237419168.post-32755816776916243372014-10-04T22:43:00.000-05:002014-10-04T22:43:12.438-05:00When you get overwhelmed <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I know. I know. I haven't been writing like I said I would. I do fully intent to catch up because so much has been going on in our little family.</div>
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I'm currently working through and attempting to get over being overwhelmed. I don't know where that naughty little feeling comes from, but it always seems to sneak up on me. </div>
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Yesterday, I drove 30 minutes to the Fostering Hope clinic for a follow-up appointment for Baby A. After parking, unloading, making our way thru the hospital and into the clinic, and then waiting on an available receptionist only to hear that Baby A wasn't on their schedule, well that's when I broke. </div>
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I managed to get back to the elevator and into my car before letting the tears fall, but that was the breaking point. </div>
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And then I cried again while lying in bed. I couldn't explain why I was overwhelmed. I just was. </div>
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But it's that feeling of being stretched so thin, that reaffirms that I need to step back and look at where I can re-access, where I can do less, and where I can do more. So I am. This weekend, I'm simply trying hard to not try so hard. If that makes sense. </div>
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I'm focusing on being a wife and a momma and a Scentsy and Velata consultant, and I'm not so worried about all the rest. </div>
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I spent this morning baking and cooking for my family and prepping for a Velata tasting/Scentsy party tonight (that was fantastic!). I didn't worry too much about my to do list. I just loved on my babies and my hubby. It felt nice to breathe. </div>
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It's time to work the de-cluttering plan....not physical clutter, but all the clutter. I want to make sure that whatever I do, I do well. I don't want my hands to be busy with just anything. I want my hands to be busy with things that matter. </div>
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Allisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15262836212143049594noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6879225361237419168.post-34042676152134144962014-10-02T22:58:00.002-05:002014-10-02T22:58:37.908-05:00Mammogram #2 and a sweet reminder that I'm not alone<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Last Friday I had my 1st mammogram. They called me Friday afternoon to tell me they found a spot on my left breast. The high risk specialist on the phone made it clear that they weren't too concerned about it, but because of my BRCA 1 and 2 mutations, they needed to look into it further. </div>
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So yesterday morning, I headed to the women's center bright and early. I checked in 10 minutes late (as is my normal operating procedure) and sat down to wait. </div>
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And I suddenly started to feel so very alone. </div>
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I was scared for the first time. I let my mind wander to to the what ifs. I didn't expect to do any of that, but suddenly, sitting in a room patiently waiting, I let fear set in. </div>
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And I started praying. <i>Lord, if this is a battle I have to fight, I'll ultimately have to do it alone in my mind. My support system is amazing. I couldn't ask for more love around me. But no one else can get in my head. No one else will have to fight the inner battle. I will have to do that alone with you.</i> </div>
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And as I began to feel very, very alone, my sister walked around the corner, and I nearly cried. </div>
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It was the sweetest reminder from the Lord that I don't have to and won't ever have to walk any of this alone. My sister, my mom, my aunt, my husband, my family.....they're all going to walk it with me. Whatever this journey ends up looking like, they'll all be there. </div>
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Just thinking about the way my soul felt when I saw my sister's face, draws tears to the brim of my eyes. It was sweet. Loving. Exactly what I needed. </div>
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We had no idea that we both had appointments on the same day, at the same time. She was there to see our high risk specialist to discuss her surveillance plan moving forward. I was there for additional imaging (which I hadn't told her about yet), and it was October 1st......the beginning of breast cancer awareness month. </div>
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The second I saw her, I knew that none of this would have to be walked alone. Not a single step. Not even this little wait. </div>
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I love moments like this that the Lord orchestrates for our hearts. He knows the desires of our hearts, friends, and He wants to give us those desires!</div>
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<span id="fbPhotoSnowliftSubscribe"></span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10101076643410211&set=a.928417591981.2282551.44004980&type=1&theater#" id="u_jsonp_4_z" role="button" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;"></a><span class="fsm fwn fcg" style="font-size: 12px;"><span id="fbPhotoSnowliftTimestamp"><a class="uiLinkSubtle" href="https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10101076643410211&set=a.928417591981.2282551.44004980&type=1&permPage=1" style="color: #9197a3; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;"><abbr data-shorten="1" data-utime="1412173531" style="border-bottom-style: none;" title="Wednesday, October 1, 2014 at 9:25am">Yesterday</abbr></a> </span>· <div class="mls" id="fbPhotoSnowliftAudienceSelector" style="display: inline-block; margin-bottom: -4px; margin-left: 0px; margin-top: -2px; min-height: 22px; vertical-align: top;">
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<span id="fbPhotoSnowliftViewOnApp"><a href="http://instagram.com/p/tnPfKOojuU/" rel="nofollow" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">View on Instagram</a> </span><span aria-live="polite" class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" style="display: inline; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; outline: none; width: auto;" tabindex="0">Today is the first day of Breast Cancer Awareness Month! And I am wearing my hot pink skinniest to celebrate! Knowledge is Power friends! Go get a mammogram.... I'm waiting to get one right now. They don't hurt and it doesn't take long. It's worth your time to get checked. <a class="_58cn" data-ft="{"tn":"*N","type":104}" href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/themoreyouknow" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">#themoreyouknow</a><a class="_58cn" data-ft="{"tn":"*N","type":104}" href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/breastcancerawareness" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">#breastcancerawareness</a></span><span class="fbPhotoTagList" id="fbPhotoSnowliftTagList" style="display: inline; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><span class="fcg" style="color: #9197a3;"> — at <span class="fbPhotoTagListTag withTagItem tagItem"><a class="taggee" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=252630691576006" href="https://www.facebook.com/MercyWomenOKC" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Mercy Women's Center - Oklahoma City</a></span>.</span></span></div>
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The above post from my sister is proof of a sweet moment of truth that the Lord gave me yesterday {see my shoes in the upper left hand corner}. </div>
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Ultimately, I had to go back on my own, but my strength had been renewed simply by her presence. </div>
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The mammogram was just on 1 breast. They were specifically looking for a certain spot. When she was finished taking what felt like a million pictures of my boob, she told me that she would show the images to the doctor, and then they would come get me if I needed to have an ultrasound. </div>
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I waited in a small waiting room they call the TV room. I watched the weather while I waited and smiled and chatted with the couple other women who came and went while I continued to wait. </div>
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I remember wondering what it would mean if they came to get me for an ultrasound. Would it be bad? Would that mean something was serious? </div>
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And then she came......"Mrs. Dalke, if you'll follow me, we're going to head to the ultrasound room."</div>
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Crap. </div>
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Here we go. </div>
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The tech was nice. The room was cold. That seems like a silly detail, but it was really, really cold in there. </div>
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I laid and started at the ceiling while she looked thru every inch of breast tissue. She kept saying that everything looked great. It all looked normal. But when she was done, she said she needed to show the images to the doctor and that the doctor may want to come in and look again. </div>
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Okay. </div>
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<i>What does that mean? I thought it all looked good. Let's button it up and head home, lady.</i> </div>
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And there I was again. Alone. Cold. Staring at the ceiling. Wondering if this day would be significant. </div>
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And right in the middle of the fear that I was letting slip in, came peace. Unexplainable. Undeniable. Peace without understanding. </div>
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Not alone. But in Christ. </div>
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Not cold, but full of the warm light of the Lord. </div>
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Not staring up at the ceiling, but staring up towards Heaven. </div>
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Not wondering if this day would be significant.....knowing it would be. Because today, I was reminded that I'm not alone, and I don't have anything to fear because <i>greater is He who is in me, than He who is in the world</i>. </div>
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Then the doctor was there, and I wondered if I should sit up to introduce myself or continue lying on the table. She wanted to have a look. </div>
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<i>Go ahead lady. Take a look. Whatever you find, I'm good.</i> </div>
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She looked and looked and looked and finally re-assured me that everything looked great. All normal breast tissue. </div>
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She wanted to confirm that I was both BRCA 1 and 2 positive and that I was seeing a genetic counselor and that I would be back in 6 months for an MRI. </div>
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Yes and yes and yes. </div>
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And just like that, she was gone, and all was normal, and I was free to go about my day. </div>
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And I still don't know what my plan is. I know I'll continue high risk surveillance. Whether or not I'll do more is still up in the air. But I do know, that whatever path I walk in the future, it will not be walked alone. </div>
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Allisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15262836212143049594noreply@blogger.com2