He or She?

Last night, we had a wonderful gender reveal party with some family and friends.  We wanted to do something different.  So, we planned to do a balloon dart painting.  All of the balloons are filled with different colors of paint with only one balloon filled with pink or blue paint.  One by one the balloons are popped by throwing darts, when "the" balloon is popped, everyone knows the gender of the baby.

When we were done throwing darts, the canvas looked like this:

The pink was actually red before it mixed with other paint colors, 

but notice that big blue patch of paint on the left! 

And, we have already named our bundle of joy.

Joy Comes

"...His favor is for life; Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning."

  Psalm 30:5

Brad and I feel so humble and proud to share that we are expecting an addition to our family. We are 16 weeks pregnant and our due date is December 5.  I have started feeling the little flutters of movement and the blessing of those flutters takes my breath away each time. Lord willing, we will be holding Baby Shumake in our arms by Christmas. As one of my friends said, that is the perfect time...the time of year that falls between a time of giving thanks and a time of giving gifts.  That is so true.  It is the perfect time of year to give birth to our little love.

With that said, we want to express our gratitude for those who have been interceding for us. We have been so humbled by the prayer and support.  As soon as we found out we were pregnant, we switched doctors.  We simply needed and wanted a fresh start. We needed new hope that we could carry a little life without continuing to lose babies.  Dr. Cox has been wonderful.  He ran several tests and determined that I have a condition where my body is at risk for developing blood clots in the placenta which can cut off the blood supply to the baby.  We are doing all we can to make sure this won't happen again (nightly blood thinner injections), but the truth is, we aren't out of the woods until we are holding little bit in our arms.  So, each day is a faith journey trusting that He will carry us.  Please continue to lift up our little family.  Please pray specifically for these things:

1. For the Lord to continue to breathe life into our baby
2. For the Lord's protection from any blood clots
3. For the Lord to fill any gaps and protect from any other complications 
4. For us to be holding a healthy and beautiful baby at Christmastime

Your prayers for our growing family are deeply appreciated!

A Mother's Heart

A mother’s heart hopes and dreams for a precious child

Yet many women feel a loss to deep to be told.

You, grieving mama, still deserve to be recognized on Mother’s Day.

A Mother’s Heart

by Karen Shumake

For many moms motherhood is a dream.

A dream to conceive a child when our bodies rebel,

Refuse to engage in the miracle of conceiving a baby. 

Month after month, grieving what is not

Because you long for that test result to be different.

You, longing mama, still have a mother’s heart.

Happy Mother’s Day

For many moms, motherhood was within your grasp. 

The test was positive and the ultrasound was hopeful. 

You started picking out names, you started thinking about

Who your little person might be one day. 

Then, your world turned upside-down.

The new little heart stopped beating, 

Or you delivered far too early, 

Or you held your baby still at birth.

You, hurting mama, still have a mother’s heart.

Happy Mother’s Day

For many moms, motherhood meant placing your baby for adoption.

From your arms to theirs, for a hope-filled life.

Your heart. Ripped. Wide. Open. Having to say good-bye like that,

Standing strong and making that choice.  For a better life.

But when you’re a mom, you do what you think is best for your baby.

You, birthmom, still have a mother’s heart.

Happy Mother’s Day

For many moms, motherhood means remembering.

Memories of a hundred firsts and

The dreams of a hundred more never-will-be’s.

You lost your baby as an infant, child, youth, or adult.

And while there are memories that play like a home movie,

There is a deep longing to hear their voice. Just. One. More. Time.

You would give anything for just one more moment.

You, remembering mama, still have a mother’s heart.

Happy Mother’s Day

Happy Mother’s Day to all the women who have suffered motherhood loss in any and all forms.  My husband and I lost our first two babies to miscarriage.  Our baby Hope was born early at 13 1/2 weeks just a few days before Mother's Day 2014.  We have a few ultrasound pictures and some video of our first ultrasound of her.  We chose her name because we are confident of our hope through Jesus Christ.  Our baby Jeremiah was lost at 6 1/2 weeks in November 2014.  We never heard his little heart beat.  We named him Jeremiah after Jeremiah 29:11 because we know the Lord has good plans for us.  Grieving mama, you have hope in Jesus Christ.  The pain doesn't go away, but through our faith in Him, we are able to move forward with peace and hope despite the pain.  We choose to believe the pain is there to remind us of the precious babies we never held...and that is something I would never want to forget.

Life will be brighter than noonday,
    and darkness will become like morning.
You will be secure, because there is hope;
    you will look about you and take your rest in safety.

Job 11:17-18

Holding On To Hope

Instead of this post being one in and of itself, you will find that this one is compiled of several writings penned over the last few months.  This is my journey...

November 10, 2014

On May 7, we lost our first baby.  On November 6, we went to the doctor full of hope and anxious to hear a new heartbeat, only to find that there wasn’t one.  I miscarried again on November 7.  Six months to the day.  There seems to be something significant about the dates, rather than believe that the timing is all chance.  However, I haven’t yet discerned the significance.  Maybe time will help with that.

It. Is. Hard. My emotions change with each moment.  They ebb and flow and thunder like a mountain river.  Numbness. Disappointment.  Sadness.  Anger.  All the while believing that there has to be a purpose in all of this.  Because the Lord is good.  Despite our loss.  Despite our hurt.  I just can’t believe it is all for nothing.  I can’t.  My Jesus is intentional and purposeful.  My babies, though not known to me, are known well by the Lord.  Because Psalm 139 says, “For you formed by inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb.  I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.  Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth.  Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them.”

Though our babies’ days were short in number, their days were formed and written, which means their days are worthy.  They have purpose and significance.  I am choosing to believe that.

I always wanted kids, always pictured myself as a mom.  And, Brad, he makes me want to be a mom even more, because it would be wonderful to parent together with such a good and loving man.  Still, I never dreamed it would be like this.  I never dreamed that all of this pain and all of this hurt would be my story.  I thought it would be easier than this because it always has been.  My life.  It has been pretty easy up until the last two years.  My story with all its paragraphs, pages, and chapters is shaping up to be something quite different than I ever thought it would be.  But maybe that is where the beauty lies…in the unpredictable, in learning to fight for the life I want, in learning to persevere despite the hard, in overcoming.  Maybe that is where the beauty lies.  Where life truly begins.  In the overcoming. 

Romans 8:37-39 “In all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.  For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”




December 28, 2014

Even seven weeks later, my emotions rumble, like a dormant volcano that has groaned its way to life.  My temper is short with the ones I love the most in this world.  I am oversensitive to trivial things.  I am angry at the people who take their children for granted…the people who spit verbal darts that pierce the hearts of children who love and depend on them, the people who abuse their children and who are indifferent to them, the people who fight with their children and also the people who fail to fight for them.  I am even angry at the people who can walk through the throng of baby clothes in a store and not feel anything.  Because it brings me to tears to gaze at the baby clothes I could have been buying this year.  And still, I can’t help myself…my fingers float across the cozy sleepers and I feel the emptiness all over again.  And I am angry because I have suffered this loss not just once, but twice.  While others who could care less about having children have them anyway.  And I am angry because I just don’t understand.  I want so badly to ask why, but I know the Lord is oftentimes silent during the test.  To see what we are made of, what our faith is made of.  I’m not going to lie.  My faith falters daily when I think about the babies I long to hold.  I am caught in that shadowy place where there is both darkness and light, the place between where I am and where I long to be.  And there are so many times I feel lost and unsteady in that waiting place, a small fishing vessel caught in a stormy gale.  I am fighting for hope, to be free of the doubt and fear of becoming pregnant again.  I am fighting for joy despite the pain and anger and fear.  Sometimes the joy is a bright star, bold and beautiful in the darkness.  And sometimes the light of joy seems like a fading star in the distance, so dim that I wonder if I’m really seeing it at all or if it is only imagined.  And so, the journey continues…one step.  Then, another. 

 

December 30, 2014

Today is a better day.  Today I can breathe without struggling.  The pressure on my chest is light.  The hope is here.  I’ve been spending some time reading Beth Moore’s book Praying God’s Word and oh, how I felt my burdens becoming lighter!  It was like the warmth of truth melted the weight of the ice, the coldness that has become part of me, and lifted it into the air as a dissipating vapor.  The anger is light.  The hurt is light.  The hope…that is what I see and feel and cling to today.  I know the emotions will continue to take me down a path of twists and turns, but I will fight for my joy, my truth in Jesus.

My favorite prayers from the Overcoming Despair Resulting from Loss section of her book:

“Lord, I don’t want to waver through unbelief regarding Your promises, but I desire to be strengthened in my faith and give glory to You, God, being fully persuaded that You have power to do what You promise.  You credit this kind of faith to Your children as righteousness!” (Rom. 4:20-22)

“Lord, in my heart I plan my course, but You determine my steps. (Prov. 16:9)  Life is not going as I planned.  I am so grateful that You are not caught off guard.  You knew everything that would befall me.  Please direct my steps as You determine.  I need You, Lord.  Carry me when I cannot walk.”

“Lord, after this suffering, let it be said that what has happened to me has really served to advance the gospel.  As a result, make my Savior clear to all those around me.  Because of my suffering and willing perseverance, cause others to be encouraged to speak the Word of God more courageously and fearlessly.” (Phil. 1:12-14)

“I am still confident of this: I will see your goodness, Lord, in the land of the living.  I will wait for You, Lord.  I will be strong and take heart and wait for You.” (Ps. 27:13-14)

 

January 27, 2015

I am okay.  I have been okay for a little while now.  I can take a breath without the heaviness slamming into me like a crushing wave.  One step and then another turned into two steps, turned into three, turned into four…turned into okay, and even good.

The sadness is still there.  I still feel the loss.  But I have chosen to cling to the hope and the promise that this isn’t all our story is meant to be.  There is more to our story and the best is yet to come.   

Scattered, Smothered, and Covered

To those who have experienced the loss of a child…this is my meandering story of loss, grief, and hope.

On May 7, 2014 Brad and I lost our first child at 13 ½ weeks. 

We had talked about names and we were choosing paint colors for the baby’s room so we could paint over my summer break. I spent countless hours on Pinterest looking at nursery décor ideas.  I followed my baby’s growth every week, wondering what those little fingers and toes would feel like once I held my little one.  But I never did.  Those plans and dreams fell empty and lifeless.  My heart was shattered.  My dreams of having a child, THIS child, were lying in scattered shards around me.  To say I was brokenhearted does not begin to describe the pain.  I was smothered with grief, my heart feeling heavy and my lungs deflated.  My throat would close and feel so tight that I was sure even air could not pass through.  There were tears.  No.  Not just tears.  There were waterfalls that cascaded down my face.  And as quickly as the tears fell, the rest of the world seemed to move in slow motion. 

I have a few memories from the hospital.  Pain.  I have experienced physical pain and emotional pain, but never at the same time.  It was                         .  There is no word for this kind of pain.  There is no word that can describe the loss of a child.  Brad.  His face.  And fear.  The feel of his hands gripping mine.  His tears flowing with mine.  Broken, but STRONG somehow.  Laughter.  My husband made me laugh later that night.  In the midst of one of the lowest moments in all of my life, my husband not only made me smile, he made me laugh.  Hope.  And, LOVE.  So much love.

In the darkest moments of my life, there was light.  Bright, blinding light.  Because of hope.  Because of unending, unconditional love.  Because of Christ.  In every fearful and terrifying moment, He was THERE and I was covered by His grace.  WE were covered by His grace.  He filled my heart with hope when I heard my own laughter among all the pain.  He used my husband to reveal that hope.  And there was peace that when everything felt (and still sometimes feels) out of control.  Because He is in control.  He has designed my life to be one of beauty, even in the brokenness.   Our sweet Jesus has good plans for us and, even in the tears, we are filled with hope that He will bless us with more children one day.  I still think about our first baby.  Every. Day.  There is still pain.  Every. Day.  There are still waterfalls.  Every. Day.  But there is GRACE.  Every Day.  And there is HOPE.  Always.  Because there is the merciful love of CHRIST.

The Perfect Lie

It was the first lie ever told.  Years ago in the Garden of Eden.  "'You will not surely die,'" the serpent said to the woman. 'For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.'"  The first lie.  Perfection.  The perfect family.  The perfect marriage.  The perfect children.  The perfect job.  The perfect faith.  Nothing wrong.  Just perfect.

So many times we are afraid to be real, afraid of what others will think if they know we aren't perfect or if they know the depth of our struggle or sorrow or depression or guilt or anxiety.  We are afraid of what they will think if they see the real face behind the facade.  The facade keeps us safe, at a distance.  I see this in myself in my pursuit of being the perfect wife.  I drive myself mad sometimes doing laundry and cooking and cleaning.  I want Brad to think I'm the perfect wife.  I am so NOT the perfect wife...not when I snap at him in frustration or shut down because I'm hurt or upset.  I'm flawed.  So flawed.  The good thing is, he loves me anyway.  Flaws and all.  Actually, my flaws bring out the best in Him.  When he sees that I'm frustrated or on edge, he stops and stills and takes the time to just hold me.  And then he finds a way to make me laugh by saying something goofy or tickling me.  He is strong when I am weak.  My imperfections bring out his goodness and grace.  Such is Christ and the church.  Our imperfections bring out the Lord's goodness and grace.

I see this over and over again with people who share my faith, I see it in myself.  Our society expects Christians to be perfect, to have no faults, to not say the wrong thing at the wrong time, to be without blemish or stain or a sordid history.  The TRUTH is….The Bible is full of imperfect and flawed people who make poor and painful choices.  And these are the very people that God uses to change the course of history, to bring the world hope, to tell the story of the Lord's redeeming love.  Christians MUST be imperfect, or His grace wouldn’t be needed.  Christians MUST stumble and fall before mercy can be shown.  If Christians were perfect, we wouldn’t need a holy God to redeem us.  Just because Christians have chosen to follow the Lord and have chosen to pursue the call of becoming more like Jesus, it doesn’t mean we have achieved perfection.  The moment we achieve perfection is the moment we cease needing the grace and mercy of a holy God who loves us beyond all comprehension.   Imperfection is a qualification of being a Christian, not a disqualification.  Consider the biographies that are contained in God’s Word.  In the Old Testament alone, Sarai (Sarah) told her husband (Abram/Abraham) to sleep with someone else so she could have a child, Rebekah helped her son Jacob steal from his brother Esau and deceive his father Isaac, and Jacob goes on to have many sons who then sell their brother Joseph as a slave.  Later in the Old Testament, Moses doubts and questions God's plan and David whom God calls "a man after his own heart" commits adultery and murder.  The list goes on of imperfect people that God uses to tell His story of redeeming love.  The saying "Christians aren't perfect, just forgiven" is trite, but also very true.  God doesn't call us to perfection, He calls us to faith.  Faith that He is enough, that He can meet our needs, that He will hold us up when we can no longer walk on our own. 

To clarify, I did not share this to give Christians an excuse for the choices they make.  There is accountability for the choices we make and there are consequences.  We should pursue being more like Christ, we should study God's word and seek the Lord in prayer, and we should pursue holiness and righteousness to honor the Lord and we should show compassion to others.  We should be able to look back over a year or six months or a couple months or even a couple weeks and see the Lord working in our lives.  Does that mean we will ever be perfect?  No.  Perfection is a lie that Satan has used to bind us in chains, to make us feel "not good enough".  So, instead of falling for these lies any longer and drowning in loneliness and isolation, let's live more authentically and build community again by depending on one another to help us through the soul and spirit challenging times.  Let's not be afraid to be real with one another...truly real about our lives.  Let's open our hearts and lives and share with each other.  Let's allow ourselves to feel the grief, the sorrow, the disappointment and then let's move forward to a place of hope and peace.  Imperfect.  And together.

Love is...

When my dad died on January 24, my world could have fallen apart.  It felt like it would.  But the Lord blessed me with a precious man who helped hold me together through the shock and denial and tears.  I heard once that our true character is revealed not only in our actions, but also in our reactions.  When my dad died, Brad and I were engaged and going through premarital counseling.  It was a done deal.  We were already committed for life in my eyes, but he stepped up in a very real way that reconfirmed everything I already knew.  Brad was meant for me.  He was meant to lead me.  He was meant to hold me up when I had no strength.  He was meant to be by my side through all the joy and all the sorrow that life on this earth would surely bring.  He was meant to be the love of my life.

On March 17, several hours before our wedding ceremony, our good friend Chris Noles pulled me to the side and played a song for me.  It was a song written by Brad and a few of our friends in the weeks before our wedding.  It was a song about my dad.  I was instantly a mess...and I don't mean a pretty mess, either.  The precious song told our father-daughter story perfectly...the struggle to both hold on and let go.  It was the best wedding gift ever.  A few hours later I walked down the aisle toward a man that my dad would have been incredibly proud to call his son-in-law.  He made sure my daddy was celebrated and remembered on one of the most important days of our lives.  The band who helped Brad write the song played that song at our reception.  It was beautiful.  What a bittersweet day, to be sure, but the joy far outweighed the tears and at the end of the day, I was married to my best friend.

Those of you who know our story, know that mine and Brad's was not always an easy road.  It was a long road in the early years, one frustrated with twists and turns and lengthy detours.  Ours is a rich history of heartache and forgiveness and renewal.  It's far better than any romantic comedy I've ever seen and here we are...married...finally!  Marrying Brad is one of the best things I have ever done.  I am proud to be his wife.  We make each other better.  I love going to sleep next to him every night and waking up beside him each morning.  I love making his breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day.  I love the way he makes me laugh when I am in a grumpy mood.  I love the way he always tells me where he is and what he's doing because he knows I care about these things.  I love the way he says he'll only be at the studio for a few hours and I know that really means he'll be there until 11:00pm or midnight.  I love that he is honest with me, even when the honesty is hard to hear.  I love that he trusts me with his heart.  I love our life.  Completely. 

There are, of course, ups and downs.  There are times we disagree about how to approach something, times we get on each others' nerves, and times we are just insensitive to the other, but love is so much deeper than that.  At our reception, we danced to "Love is a Verb" by John Mayer.  It's so true.  Love isn't only in the words we say, it's in the things we do to show others how much they mean to us.  No one is perfect.  Brad and I are both quite imperfect, actually.  We will fail miserably at some points and we will be learning how to love one another for the rest of our lives, but we won't give up.  We will learn when to let things go and when to push harder.  It is my prayer that we will always fight...not with each other, but FOR each other.  Brad has taught me the importance of that.  He fought for me so many times when we were dating and I wanted to run because it would have been easier.  He still fights for me.  That is love...fighting for the other person, for the best in the other person, for all the memories, and all the hopes for the future.  Love is not giving up, not giving in, not taking the easy way out...it's pushing through and fighting for a future together. 

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.  Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.  It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.  (1 Corinthians 13:4-8)

 

What I Know

So, I have taken quite a hiatus from blogging seeing that nearly three years have passed since my last post.  My current motivation to blog is no doubt a need to give my thoughts and reflections a voice, to ease the downpour of emotions that have been accosting me these last several months.  To that end, I write...

The past several months have been filled with more life changes than I could have ever anticipated or imagined.  Or even prepared for.  To establish a starting point, my dad passed away unexpectedly on January 24.  I will never forget the phone call from Brad at work telling me that my dad had been found unconscious and that I needed to come home.  Then, there was a second conversation as I was driving home.  I remember being told to pull over.  And I knew.  I knew what he was going to say.  In that one infinitely small moment in time, I knew I would never hear my dad's voice or hug my dad's neck again.  I knew my dad would never walk me down the aisle.  I knew my dad would never tear up as he gave me away.  I knew my dad would never dance with me at my wedding reception. I knew my children would never meet their grandfather.  I knew.  Before Brad said it, I knew.  In that same infinitely small moment in time, I also knew that the Lord would carry me.  He would pick me up in one of my weakest moments and He would carry me.  He would carry my mom and my brother.  He would carry my sister-in-law and my nephews.  He would carry my (then) fiance and our family through one of the most difficult times in our lives.  He would carry us because He said He would.  And, He did.  He is still carrying us, day to day and hour to hour, He carries us.

Memories fall down suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere and catch me unaware.  I remember my dad taking me to Stone Mountain every July 3 for my birthday, sitting beside me the first time I rode on a roller coaster, teaching me to ride a bike, and buying me cotton candy every time we went to a Braves game in Atlanta.  I remember him reading Tom Clancy books for hours and how he got sucked into watching the Gilmore Girls with my mom and me.  I remember watching countless CSI, NCIS, and JAG episodes with him and taking turns solving the crime.  I remember how difficult it was for him to let me go when I graduated from college and wanted to move to Austin, Texas.  So many memories.

I have shed so many tears over the loss of my dad...mostly behind closed doors, even away from my husband and my mom.  I try to be strong, to move forward, but there are some days when I feel like it's everything I can do to hold the shards of my broken self together.  Most of the time I cry when my mind has time to wander and reminisce.  Then, the emotions ease, the sadness wanes, and the tears dry and I remember to focus on what I know.  I KNOW the Lord has a plan.  I KNOW His plan is perfect. I KNOW He loves me and has good things for me.  I KNOW He will carry me and hold me together when the fragile parts of me start to fall apart.  I KNOW He is faithful and constant when everything around me changes.  I KNOW He will use this time to teach me, to deepen my faith, and if I am honored enough, to use my jagged story to touch another.  To that end, I write...

friendship

Friendship is a beautiful thing. In the way of friends, I have one of the very best. Shannon and I spend a lot of time goofing off and laughing, just enjoying each other's company. We talk about Jesus and our journeys with Him. Like most best friends, sometimes we cry and sometimes we laugh. Time with Shannon has always been significant and purposeful...a lifting of my spirit. My world feels a little brighter when she's around. We visit new places, try new restaurants, and do new things. I have a lot of "firsts" with Shannon as she challenges me and pushes me to get out of my comfort zone to try new things. We also share...books, movies, scripture verses, and even a deer carcass. A deer carcass? Yes. Friends, that is no typo. On a recent farm sitting adventure with Shannon, one of the dogs returned to the llama pasture with remnants (very large, furry, and bloody remnants) of a deer. After we decided we should probably move it out of the pasture, Shannon returns to the barn, grabs a shovel, and promptly hands it to me saying, "Here ya go!" Nice. I know your mom taught you the importance of sharing, Shannon, but seriously?? Then I did what I thought any farm girl would do. I maneuvered the shovel beneath the carcass (after gagging a couple times) and carried Bambi's remains to the other side of the pasture fence by the woods. I was pretty proud of myself. That was definitely a first for me. Like I said, Shannon challenges me. Friendship is a beautiful thing. Most of the time. ;)

savannah

I have a confession. I'm a 31 year old Georgia-grown peach and the first time I ever visited Savannah was this past weekend. It. Was. Crazy. Fun. Of course, the fun probably was mostly due to the company I kept. Shannon, her parents, and I all went to Savannah together on our way home from New Smyrna Beach. We went on a haunted history walking ghost tour. It actually turned out to be a standing history tour instead, but it was interesting all the same. We looked for some other sightseeing tours, etc. to see the town, but we opted to bike through the city streets on our own. I can't imagine experiencing Savannah for the first time any other way. I highly recommend it! A few of our choice songs while riding were Do-Re-Mi from The Sound of Music and Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah from the movie Song of the South. It was carefree and interesting and fun, exactly what I needed. The city itself is beautiful, the history undeniable, and the haunts entertaining. I think I could live there. ;)

30 in 30

For several years now, Shannon (my college roommate and dear friend) has been keeping a list of all the new things she does or places she goes in the course of a year. The number of new things corresponds with her age. So, I'm stealing her idea and sharing my 30 new things in my 30th year. Some of the things may seem small, but it's cool to realize all the new things that I see or do in the course of a year.

1. Got flowers for my birthday
2. Made my first trip to Ohio (Waynesville)

3. Visited the National Museum of the US Air Force, saw the Bockscar in person
4. Ate @ Sanders Cafe and Museum in Corbin, KY

5. Saw Jason Mraz in concert @ Verizon Wireless Amphitheater
6. Taught 2nd grade
7. Volunteered for the Relay for Life committee for Jackson County
8. Saw a Cincinnati Reds game @ Great American Ball Park in Cincinnati, OH
9. Went tailgating @ the UGA/UF game with the Pollitz/Smetts crew
10. Girls' weekend in Atlanta in October with Shannon (Fernbank Museum, ate at Tijuana Garage and Hudson's Grill)
11. Ate gelato @ Paolo's Gelato Italiano in the Virginia Highlands
12. Went with a group of coworkers to see a midnight showing of a movie (New Moon)
13. Went on a blind date
14. Took a painting class @ Sips N Strokes
15. Met with a prophetic ministry at Daystar
16. Contributed recipes to a fundraiser cookbook
17. Saw Needtobreathe in concert @ Center Stage Midtown
18. Went to Alamo Drafthouse in Austin to see Alice in Wonderland with Jacqui
19. Completed a 21 day fast in February/March
20. Made a diaper cake for Brooke/Wren
21. Took a pottery class @ Good Dirt
22. Read Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
23. Made one complete place setting on the pottery wheel
24. Went to Callaway Gardens (biked on a trail through Callaway Gardens and visited the butterfly conservatory, The Amazing Race @ Callaway Gardens, my first geocaching experience)
25. Arrowhead Farm - worked on the horse farm (fed and watered all 17 horses, assisted in breeding Emmy and Princess, got on Bronce, assisted an equine vet with Bobby, learned how to pull a horse trailer including backing it up and parking it, went to a ranch sorting shindig)
26. I made my Christmas gift list in June.
27. New Smyrna Beach with the Pollitz family (and ate at new restaurants: Boston's, Norwood's, Flip Flops, The Garlic)

28. Went sailing on a catamaran in the Atlantic Ocean

29. Saw lightning over the ocean

30. Saw fireworks on the beach

the good dirt

Some of you know that I recently took a pottery wheel class. Since then, I've worked in the studio a couple times each week. I have several random pieces, but my big project is to complete one place setting before the end of the summer. I'm almost done and I'll post pictures of the place setting when all the pieces have been glazed and fired. For now, I'm posting pictures of my first two completed pieces. It took seven weeks to make these two pieces, from throwing the clay on the wheel until the final firing. Needless to say, my new pastime is teaching me patience. :)

karen's top 10 list

Last week, I went to work on a horse farm with Shannon. We also made a brief side trip to Callaway Gardens. Yes, voluntary manual labor outdoors in the heat of the day and five days of absolutely no make-up. It was glorious! Instead of writing all the details of my adventures, I decided to give my Top 10 Things I learned (or was reminded of) from working with horses and geocaching (at Callaway).

10. There is a reason people make comments about "peeing like a race horse". Horses leave a decent sized puddle in their wake. (Thanks, Shan)

9. There comes a time in every person's life where a situation calls for a bluff. Take charge, even when you feel you've lost control.

8. When you're feeling a little unsteady, keep your head up. It's easier to keep your balance.

7. We learn the most about ourselves when we are willing to get out of our comfort zones.

6. Two heads are definitely better than one. Everything is a little easier with a partner.

5. It's important to break up old ground (hurts and fears) so new growth can take its place (serving, helping, loving others).

4. It's important to know where you are, but it's also important to keep your eyes on where you want to go.

3. Laughter can make the most mundane activities a joy.

2. Trust God to use friends to guide you when you can't see your own path.

1. It's not about finishing, it's about finishing well. Keeping a positive attitude and a loving spirit is part of the challenge.

Oh...one more thing. We helped breed two of the horses. Wow. I don't even know how to put that experience into words. Good times on Arrowhead Farm!

Thanks to Greg and Sandy for opening your home to us and for giving me the experience of a lifetime. I can mark that off my bucket list! I will definitely be back to visit!

Green Acres -- Ropin' It Up version

the simple things

I enjoy the lights of city skylines where the energy is high and the pace is fast, but nothing beats a starry night in the country where the simple things are the best things. I love catching fireflies on a summer night and the sound of my nephew's laughter when I tickle him. The best smell is fresh cut grass and the best feeling is feeling at all, whether it's sunshine or raindrops. It's cliche, I know, but life is good.

"I am beginning to learn that it is the sweet, simple things of life which are the real ones after all." Laura Ingalls Wilder

a tribute to the fuzzy brown couch

I was once asked about my favorite childhood memory. I have two. One memory is of catching fireflies in a mason jar on a summer night in my Nana and Pa's backyard. The other memory is of a fuzzy brown couch at my Nannie and Papa's house in Florida. This couch was in their living room when I was growing up and, actually, it is still there today. To the average eye, it doesn't look like anything special. But to me, it encompasses some of the great moments of my childhood. My brother and I would sleep on this couch when we were visiting our grandparents as little kids. It was also the seating during the grandkids' countless games of charades, marvelously orchestrated by our mothers to keep us kids out of trouble. The couch was (and still is) extremely soft and smooth and before you knew it you were sliding between the cushions or they were sliding out from under you. Even today, we playfully fight over who gets to sit on the fuzzy brown couch. They just don't make 'em like that anymore! :)

Below is a picture of the couch piled high with all the grandkids (and wives). I still love that couch for all the memories it holds and for the ones that are still being made...

L to R: Chris, Rob, Brooke, Me, Lisa, Kevin