To the baby boy stealing our hearts...

Dear Baby Boy,

We've known you for two weeks now and in two weeks you've completely stolen each of our hearts. What life was like before you, I don't remember. What life will be like after you, I can't imagine. You have come into our lives and have quickly shown each of us parts of ourselves we did not know or understand.

Yesterday morning you were restless and couldn't sleep, so I picked you up and you slid comfortably into my arms. You didn't stop smiling until you were sound asleep, and my heart fell to pieces.

Each piece knowing that you may leave us one day... Knowing that our hearts long for your mama and daddy to get better... Knowing how broken they must be without you and how they must long to snuggle you each day that you're in our arms... Knowing that the pain I feel just thinking about you leaving one day is the pain they are living every moment.

I love you so much it actually hurts... I kiss your cheeks and I weep because of these things that I know and these things that I pray for. And I'm convinced that it's ok to hurt. It's worth it. YOU'RE worth it to me.

Mercy was six months old when she weighed what you are weighing right now at one month. She'll be two in a few weeks and you are closing in on about half of her current weight! To us you're huge because we remember her being three pounds at your age. To her you are her tiny baby brother. You are her "Bebe!" She adores you. She wants to climb in your swing with you and snuggle, she wants to hold you and feed you and give you your paci, she reaches up for you when we are holding you, she comforts you when you are fussing, she rubs your head and kisses your toes, your hands, your forehead, the closest part of you she can reach. She brings you her very favorite toys. She cries when you are behind a closed door and when you leave for your visits. Her sweetness has multiplied a hundred fold since she met you. Yesterday I asked her if she loves you, and in her own precious 'Mercy talk' she said, "I love you bebe!" ...and my heart fell to pieces all over again.

Each piece knowing that she's too young to understand all of this yet... knowing she may lose you, her bebe brother, one day... knowing that she will mourn along with us when she can't check on you and kiss your toes anymore. We will comfort her, we will talk to her about you forever so that she won't forget you, and she will not be the same because of her deep love for you. She will know that you needed her for a season and that she filled a special place in your heart that God made just for her. And it'll be worth it... because YOU'RE worth it to her.

Your {right now} daddy and I talked about foster parenting for years before you arrived. We anticipated the arrival of our first foster child even before your sister was here! When her birth story turned traumatic and we decided pregnancy would not be in our future, we eagerly awaited the day the Lord would call us to renew our certification. A couple of months went by before we got the phone call for YOU. I said yes without even talking to your daddy and then the real wait began.... Eight of the longest days awaiting your arrival, praying for you, for your parents, for your social workers, for your nurses and doctors, and for us... and then we met you! In one quick moment we went from knowing your name and little more to loving you as if we'd known you forever. These days have been so full, our hearts are bursting with joy and love for each minute we spend with you. We are cherishing them all because we know they are numbered. We are cherishing YOU because we know you are worth it.

Your big gummy one month old smile.... Oh it melts my heart.

Your chubbiest little cheeks I've ever seen.... I need you to store my kisses in them so that when we're apart you'll have a lifetime of kisses to remember me by.

Your scent. Vanilla never smelled so sweet, I need your scent to follow me forever so that when we're not together, I can breathe and remember each of our moments.

But for today, I'm just going to cherish you. I'm going to cherish the 3am snuggles... cherish the early mornings and the extra coffee... even cherish being sprayed changing your diaper... cherish the way you have added so much to our lives in such a short time. I'm going to cherish your worth. You are amazing, little one. Thank you for loving us back!

Love,
 Your {right now} mama

One week in. A lifetime in.

For those of you who don't know, one week ago today Chris, Mercy and I welcomed our first foster child into our family.

He's tiny, precious and perfect and we are head over heels for him.

Mercy is fascinated, I can't stop kissing his chubby cheeks and Chris could just look at him and snuggle him all day.

Our first week with this little man has not been what we expected.
We expected to be awake a lot at night, maybe pulling our hair out some, we expected fits from the big sister and inconsolable crying from the little guy.

Instead we have had nights full of sleep, a brother/sister relationship that is sweeter than anything I've ever seen in my life, and the most content baby boy who just loves to study our faces and smile and sleep.

We keep saying to each other, "We're only one week in, things could change any day."

Today, as I've thought about being a week into the uncertainties of this journey I've wondered how accurate that thought process actually is...

In one sense, we're one week in and in a very different sense we're a lifetime in.

We've been loving this guy for seven days. How our future with him looks is completely unknown. I know that I love him right now, and I know that I'll love him tomorrow and forever.

We aren't just in this to love a child temporarily. We're in this because God has called us to take care of a child as long as He allows us to and to love that child forever.

I think I understood that to an extent before this guy arrived... What I didn't understand very much at all was the other reason God placed us on this journey.

To experience first hand God's adoptive love for us, His children.

Y'all. I love this guy, I just can't even... He's just... so lovable! I love him so. Much. And I know that there are likely things that could draw him out of my arms and into a whole different world. I'm not preparing to let him go because even if he physically leaves my arms, I'll hold him close for the rest of my life. I will never. Stop. Loving him.

As Christmas approaches and we look forward to celebrating the birth of the man who came to adopt us, this baby is a very physical representation of what the love of Christ looks like.

What great news it is that Christ isn't just in this to love us temporarily!

When He knew from the beginning of time that there would be plenty of things of this world ready and waiting to draw us away from His arms.... He came here, born in a feeding trough in a barn, lived perfectly and was killed unjustly. He knew we would walk away from Him, but He came here to rescue us and adopt us into His family anyway. And although we daily turn away, He loves us. He will never. Stop. Loving us. Loving YOU, and ME.

Snuggling this guy who is sleeping peacefully in my arms as I type these words... is one of the greatest experiences of my life. I am a changed woman. I will never be the same. I will never look at the birth, life and death of Jesus in the same way, I will understand His love and His grace more completely and be more grateful each and every day, I will love harder and more deeply, I will cherish the seconds as they pass too quickly. If and when this guy leaves my arms, I will mourn and I will remember the many times I have walked away from the arms of my Savior and how He longs for my return, how He has promised to love me for the rest of time.

And I will turn back to Him. Again and again.

Friends, if the idea of fostering has crossed your mind, but the fear of loving and losing a child has stopped you, let me encourage you... It's going to be worth it. You will mourn, but you will not regret. You will be changed and you will be grateful. Pray daily about the work God may be doing in your heart, talk to foster parents, share your fears, attend an informational meeting in your area, PRAY. Don't. Stop. Praying.



**Visit crossroadsnola.org/foster-care for information about fostering in the St. Tammany Parish and New Orleans area.**

NOT the enemy

Have I mentioned how much I love Mercy's birth story? It's one of my all time favorite stories to share and think about. Sometimes I cry when I go back there and I even love those tears.

Here's a quick catch up:
Mid-December, 2012 I developed a liver disease that affects 1 out of 1,000 pregnant woman. It causes severe itching and can cause preterm labor and even stillbirth after 36 weeks. I was officially diagnosed in early January and began weekly visits to the hospital for monitoring. Everything was normal. Until it wasn't one day. On January 18, my blood pressure was crazy. I wish I could remember the numbers. NOT good. It was ok, they said, they were just going to figure some things out while I went downstairs for the ultrasound. NOT good. Zero amniotic fluid. NONE. The doctor was called. They said get here in two hours and he said he would be here in twenty minutes. This was serious. I was having a baby. Quick. And early. Ten weeks early.

I love it, y'all. Every detail of it. And I wish I could share every detail here because it was such an amazing and miraculous month leading up to these moments. The moments of her perfectly indescribable and beautifully ordained birth, via cesarean section.

The details... the surprise. The fear. The drugs. The medical staff. The way my husband held my hand and looked into my eyes with such confidence and love as the doctor brought our daughter painlessly and peacefully into the world. The quiet peep she made. The tears (mine) that ensued. The first time I laid eyes on her and fell so hard for her little two pound frame.

She came into the world peacefully, and those 30 minutes of painless {drugged up} anticipation before we heard her voice and saw her face were absolutely incredible. I remember every second like it was this morning. No doubt, this was how she was meant to enter our lives. Early, precious and perfect.

I remember being asked by a good friend early on in the pregnancy how I planned to deliver and being very confident about my answer: "However it ends up happening."

I explained that if I could deliver naturally, I'd do it, but that I was NOT against drugs if the pain was too much. And I'm a wimp. If I needed a c-section, I was ready and would not hesitate. My experience was not the priority. My child was.

When I was diagnosed with cholestasis of pregnancy, I was told we could try to induce 4-5 weeks early, but it would probably be wise to go ahead and schedule a c-section since this was my first and it would be so early. I began planning for the section, and I felt good about it.

C-sections get a bad rap...
I'm here to tell you, they are not the enemy. For Mercy and many other babies, they are the exact opposite of the enemy, they are the savior.

Did I plan on having a c-section? Not really, not at first anyway...

Was I devastated that it happened? Not at all.

Was it 'normal?' I don't know that I think childbirth in any form should be labeled 'normal.' After all, a living human is being brought out of our bodies, which is miraculous and amazing in every way. So, normal? Um, no.

Natural? If 'natural' is only an appropriate word to use for childbirth when drugs are not involved, then I guess my answer here has to be no as well...

Exactly as it was meant to be? Absolutely, yes!

Friends, please be cautious when talking about childbirth. The birth shaming is NOT acceptable. I am not usually easily offended, but find myself hurting and cringing a little when I hear others share how their 'normal' birth was the most incredible, how you could just tell their babies had no drugs in their bodies because they were so calm.

My daughter came into this world calmly. If things had not happened in the exact way they happened, I couldn't say that. I praise GOD for drugs and c-sections. I praise God for hospitals and doctors and the medical field that handled our surprise so beautifully. I praise God for His mercy and for our Mercy.

Perhaps the best plan for childbirth is no plan at all? Openness, readiness, and willingness. Drugs are ok, C-sections are not the enemy. You are doing yourself and your baby a disservice if your birth experience is for you and not your little one. Cherish whatever happens. Cherish God, who ordains whatever happens.

My opinions. I know you didn't ask. Your welcome. ;)

And here's a picture of my sweet Mercy just moments after our MOST incredible cesarean section.

How perfect is she????

Parent Confusion

It's the morning, I hear Mercy on the baby monitor. "Mama? Mama?"
I go get her, lay her on her changing table and begin to change her diaper. She reaches out to tickle me and starts giggling. She jabbers away while I change her diaper. Her daddy walks in and she points at him, "Mama! Mama!"
"That's not your mama, Mercy."

It's Sunday morning, we're at church. One of our sweet youth girls is hanging onto Mercy and she's eating a donut. She LOVES donuts. One of our sophomore boys looks over and waves at Mercy from a little ways away. She points at him, "Mama?"
"That's not your mama, Mercy."

We're strolling in the grocery store. Mercy is talking up a storm and enjoying all the activity and all the color on the aisles. A woman strolls by with her buggy and Mercy waves at her, "Mama!" Another woman walks by, "Mama?"
"That's not your mama, Mercy."
We stroll up to the cashier. She's sweet, she talks to Mercy and Mercy responds... "Mama!"

We're at Lowes, we need a new washer and we're just walking around waiting on a guy. Chris walks around a corner with Mercy. She sees a poster on the wall...

Come ON child!! Don't you know you only get one mama??? And it's not that race car driver on the poster. It's ME!! Like it or not, kid. You're stuck with me. Can I get some "mama" love?? Pleeease?

I have struggled with this. Every stranger on the street gets to be "mama." Not me. Maybe once a week or so. Maybe.

This has really gotten me thinking about why I have this inherent need to have this title.

I guess I need it because it's who I am. I need it because I carried this child, I cried by her bedside, I held her against my chest when she was just two pounds, I pumped for eight months for her, I cleaned her poop that shot three feet across the floor and onto our bed, I cleaned her spit up from INSIDE my mouth, I sat through endless hours of therapy learning new ways to teach her new skills, I snuggled her when she was sick, I held her tight when she was hurting, I cleaned vomit from her bed, her carseat, herself, at least 7 times in one day, I rocked her to sweet precious sleep, I sang to her and danced with her, I taught her how to say "mama." I loved her with my whole being, I will never stop loving her. She's part of who I am to my very core and I can't begin to imagine life not being her mama.

So is it too much to want that title? To claim it as my own? To be jealous for it?

I mean, I don't think it is.... I just... don't. 

But part of me keeps questioning the importance of that word. She knows who I am and she loves the living daylights of me. No question about that. When she gets hurt, I'm the one she comes to, when she's hungry she seeks me out, she reaches her arms up and stands on her tippy toes for me to scoop her up and squeeze her tight. She reaches for my hand when we're walking and she lays her head on my shoulder when she's sleepy. Shouldn't that be enough? Shouldn't that replace my need for this word?

I don't know... Should it? What do you think?

I'm honestly conflicted.

But I think I've come up with somewhat of an answer. And I think the answer is yes. I need to be "mama." I need that guy on the poster to be some guy on a poster, I need Chris to be daddy...

...and I need to be mama.

And I think my great desire for this comes straight from Him in who's image I was created.

I think many of us know who God is. Our Creator, our Savior, our Father. That's important, HE is important. ALL that He did to bring us into His family carries so much weight and is incredibly IMPORTANT. He asks us to call only Him our God, to only use His holy and perfect name when talking to Him or about Him. And come on, considering who He and and all He's done for us, don't you think His name is holy enough for us to hold it as precious and preserve it for HIM alone?

When I was carrying Mercy and my body was failing her, HE stepped in and saved her life. While I continually fell apart when she was just two pounds, HE gave me the strength to pick her up and hold her against my chest. When my body, again, was failing her and she was too weak to get the milk from me anyway, HE provided nutrients for her to grow. When she had just been home a little while and it looked like her little digestive system was shutting down and not doing its job, HE got it moving again, all over the floor and bed! HE provided us with the world's greatest occupational and speech therapists to help her learn new skills and words, HE created a strong bond between us even when we were separated for her first seven weeks of life outside the womb, HE taught her to dance and sing, I know I didn't! He gave me the capacity to love her and showed me what that means through the way He loves me, the way He sacrificed for me, the way He gave me the world even though I could never deserve it.

He is worthy. He is GOD.

NO question about that.

So as Mercy works out her parent confusion, may this be a reminder for ME to work out my parent confusion as well... When I'm hurt, my HE be the one I run to. When I'm hungry, may HE be the one I seek out. When I just need to be held, may I stand on my tippy toes reaching my arms toward HIM. May I hold onto His hand as I walk through each day and lay my head on His shoulder when I need rest. May He be my God, and nothing else. May He be the only one I ascribe His holy name to.

You, Lord, keep my lamp burning;
   my God turns my darkness into light.
With your help I can advance against a troop;
   with my God I can scale a wall.
As for God, his way is perfect:
   The Lord’s word is flawless;
   he shields all who take refuge in him.
For who is God besides the Lord?
   And who is the Rock except our God?
It is God who arms me with strength
   and keeps my way secure.
He makes my feet like the feet of a deer;
   he causes me to stand on the heights.
He trains my hands for battle;
   my arms can bend a bow of bronze.
You make your saving help my shield,
   and your right hand sustains me;
   your help has made me great.
You provide a broad path for my feet,
   so that my ankles do not give way.
Psalm 18:28-36


**update**
Just yesterday at the grocery store, while Mercy was very excitedly showing off her football balloon to the man behind us in the checkout line, she twisted her body and pointed at me. Still looking at this stranger, with her finger pointed at me she told him, "That's mama!" That's right, baby girl. Forever.

Development, parts 3, 4, 5 and 6

It's been over FOUR months since I've posted.

...and it's not that I don't have anything to say. Believe me, I have plenty to say.

I don't know. I have no excuses, just lack of consistency in my life I guess.

I'll try to do better!

...also, it's been over a YEAR since I've posted a new Development post! Remember how I was going to update every time we hit a new list of milestones with Mercy's occupational therapist?

Probably not, I've only done TWO and the last one was two Julys ago!

Consistency, people.

So, time to play catch up! We have passed up three lists and are now in list number six, the 12-15 month list. And actually, we're about 2 weeks past that list, but close enough!

I'll hit some of the high points from the three missed lists reeeal quickly:
4-6 Months

• Holds own bottle - yep, it was really that long ago. now she's even holding her own sippie cup!
• Stops activity when name called - it seemed like FOREVER before she knew her name. Then we realized we called her 'sweet girl,' 'baby girl,' 'sweetheart,' 'pretty,' etc. wayyyy more than we called her Mercy. Things have changed since that realization!

6-8 Months

• Responds differently to family and strangers - nope. Never. She doesn't meet a stranger, never has. A time or two she's even walked up to complete strangers in random places with her arms raised for them to pick her up!
• Crawl/creep - Mercy started crawling the week before thanksgiving, when she was ten months old... just a bit behind on this one.

9-11 Months - reading through these and realizing how many of these she's just starting and how adorable they are:

• Poke with isolated index finger - just started doing this recently.
• Imitate facial movements - She has been doing this for several weeks and it's absolutely amazingly fantastic.
• Pull to stand - Mercy did this in December a week before Christmas at 11 months old! Right on time!
• Understands "no" - don't remember when this happened, but she responds so well to "no."
• Drooling decreased - Have I ever mentioned how much a I hate spit. I hate it. A lot. And Mercy has never been even a little bit of a drooler, so that's awesome.

And here we are! Yes, I know Mercy's actually 18 months, but if we're going by her adjusted age (which the OT says we'll do until she's two) she's just past 15 months, so here's the list!

12-15 Months - this is a looong list, so bear with me and I'll try hit the highlights here too!

• Stands alone once placed - she did this on April 29th while her OT was here! Super exciting!
• Puts objects in container - Favorite toy right now: plastic container with screw on lid, she puts toys in it and puts the lid on, then she takes the lid off and pull toys out. All. Day. Long.
• Spontaneous sharing with adult - She has been sharing for several weeks now, but the sweetest thing she's shared (or tried to share) was her pacifier. She was in my lap just looking at me, she took it from her mouth and tried to shove it in mine. We were laughing, so funny! She LOVES that paci though, she doesn't get it very often when we're home, and she gave it up to share with me, and that is the sweetest thing.
• Spoon feeds with spillage - she is so good at this! Started mid April and is getting better and better. She will NOT let us feed her anymore, little independent thing!
• Drinks from open cup held - this is hilarious. She tries, she really does, and she ends up sopping wet every time.
• Cooperates with toothbrushing - recently she has started smiling big with all her teeth showing for me to brush. So cute. She does it every time I mention the toothbrush!
• Walks alone with few falls - her first steps were May 1st and they were the sweetest steps I've ever seen, but it wasn't until mid June that she really started moving. These days she's running everywhere. EVERYWHERE.
• Scribbles spontaneously - Mercy has been showing her OT how she scribbles vertically. Jeanette (OT) says that's a 24 month skill!
• Fusses to be changed - only when it's super messy. And the rest of this explanation is an entire other blog post.
• Points to three named body parts - Over the summer she really got nose and bellybutton down! ...and the rest depend on which order I ask in.
• Creeps upstairs - One of her favorites, up and down stairs!
• Uses word/sign to express self - ahh words... She should be using somewhere between 10 and 20  words pretty consistently at this point... So. These are our words:

Aren't they fantastic?? I could listen to these two talk all day! As far as real words go... We're hearing "Wow" very often, every blue moon we hear mama and dada, she's used and retired several words: bye, joe, pretty, hi, woof, yeah, etc... We had an evaluation with the organization that provides our OT and they've decided Mercy is speech delayed. So over the last couple of months we've begun seeing a speech therapist, who, hopefully, we will continue to see until next April, when Mercy will age out of the program.

We feel sure that Mercy will be talking up a storm before then and none of us are worried about this delay. Just part of being a baby really, every baby reaches each of these milestones in there own time, preemie or not... nevertheless, we are very thankful for our new friend Paula and have already seen much improvement in Mercy's understanding of words, using signs, and trying new animal sounds, maybe even a couple new words!

Anyway, just wanted to update all of you on this little lady's progress! She's doing incredibly well, and we are so grateful for your continued love and interest in our family!

Waiting is Overrated

90% of the time when friends look at Mercy's precious face they mention that she is her daddy's twin. While I for sure know she got her endless eyelashes and the precious dimples that kiss her cheeks from her daddy, Chris and I usually look at her and don't really see either of us in that blue eyed blondie... What we do see is an outgoing, talkative little extrovert growing up before our eyes.

...and if you know us, you know how very little of that she got from us.

But! I just realized something!

If Mercy had waited it out and come on her due date, today would be her birthday. As I've thought about that over the past few days, I've realized that she and I have something in common after all...

It's our feelings about waiting:

It's. Over. Rated.

Ten weeks before her anticipated birthday, this one decided waiting was overrated:

See...? She was ready for mommy and daddy hugs, and she wasn't all about waiting for them.

...and she didn't have to, because waiting is overrated.

So Chris and I have been talking about growing our family... and seeing that waiting is so overrated, I've been bringing kids home in my head for months now.

What does that mean, you ask?

Let me explain... Cholestasis of Pregnancy has a 70% recurrence rate and for me, preeclampsia has about a 40% chance of recurring. I've written before about the "pre-guilt" I feel about pregnancy and the possible births of future children so bringing kids home may not look for us like you might think.

We had a meeting last week with a social worker to talk about bringing home foster kids and possible adoption. That's our desire and that's where we believe the Lord is guiding our hearts and our family.

And get this... it looks like He's not only guiding us there, but He's guiding us there not on my timeline (how dare He!), and He's asking us to WAIT.

Come on, God?! Don't you know that waiting is overrated??

GOSH! 

So, Lord willing, it looks like we'll be foster certified somewhere around the beginning of fall... and after that, well, it's just a waiting game for a phone call for a child that falls within the boundaries we have set.

And well... that just sounds like a lot of waiting to me.

Have I not learned to trust my mighty God's perfect timing yet?? After this amazing year and after He has proved Himself and His timing over and over, I still want to make it happen my way and in my time... Crazy.

However, even with my ridiculous control issues and lack of trust, I just know there has to be some purpose in the waiting. 

Thinking about all of this in the days leading up to this first anniversary of Mercy's due date, I remembered this one most important detail:

Despite Mercy's best efforts, we did have to wait. 

After waiting several years to make a pregnancy announcement, Mercy finally came and we had to wait some more... and what a blessing those seven long weeks of waiting to bring her home from the NICU turned out to be as we were able to use that time period as an opportunity to pray for her, to grow and to prepare our hearts and our home for her arrival.

As I have pondered those seven weeks of waiting I've realized something completely new and foreign to me...

Waiting is so not overrated!

Waiting, while hard and often painful, is a gift... a gift of time, growth, and prayer, a gift of heart preparation... a gift this mama needs, whether she likes to admit it or not!

So... wait we will... and we will turn this waiting period into an opportunity to pray for the child that may be being born right this minute, or may be being neglected and so desperately in need of prayer. We will wait and we will pray earnestly for our possible future children, foster or adopted, who are so in need of prayer from a mama and daddy who don't yet know them but love them so dearly.

Pray with us?

Dear NICU Family

One year ago today we said "goodbye" to one big room that I was terrified of at one time.

More than a room, really. It was a room that was filled with YOU! ...the nurses, doctors, respiratory therapists, lactation staff, monitors, stickers, nasal cannulas, ventilators, incubators, pumps, feeding tubes, bili lights, scales and so much more.

Over the course of seven weeks, my fear of you transformed into admiration and love. YOU became family to me. You loved Mercy like she was your own, you provided for her needs, you kept her alive when she was at her weakest.

When I couldn't be there to be her mama, YOU were there.

ALL of you... at different times.

Monitors, you told us how well Mercy was breathing and when she needed extra support you (loudly) made sure we were aware and got her taken care of.

Ventilator, you opened her lungs and let her breathe for a most important week.

Incubator, you warmed her tiny body so that she could gain grams and then ounces.

Feeding tube, you nourished that little bitty girl when I could not.

Nurses, doctors, respiratory therapists, lactation staff, your love for my precious, fragile daughter will never be forgotten. You snuggled her, talked to her, bathed her, fed her, loved her and I know that you prayed for her. You were there ALL day when I could only be there a few hours a day.

NICU life was not easy, there were ups and downs, highs and lows, lots of grieving followed by lots of celebrating... all leading up to one incredibly important day.

March 7, 2013.

Our "Homecoming Day."

The most joyous occasion, oh how I cried when I said goodbye to you. I'm terrible at goodbyes, and we had become so close over the seven weeks we spent together... but it was time and we were ready.

You worked so hard to prepare that four pound girl for HOME, and she was more than ready.

It's hard to explain what it felt like, everything, all the trials and fears and victories all leading up to this one moment... walking out of the hospital doors for the first time with a baby. Going HOME.

Amazing. Going back to that remarkable moment brings tears to my eyes.

You did something beautiful for this family that is irreplaceable. You represented to us every dynamic of our walk with Jesus. The ups and the downs, the grieving and celebrating, all of the learning and growing, grams and then ounces... all leading up to one very important moment.

The moment we go HOME.

Our very own "Homecoming Day!"

You reminded me of the joy to be had in looking forward to our beautiful reunion with our Father in the home He has waiting for us.

I'll never forget the sadness I felt when we said goodbye to you or the impact you had on Mercy's life while she was with you, even better is the joy I have experienced with this sweet girl for the year she has been home with us.

Thank you for loving her, loving us, growing us. You will never be forgotten in this house!

Happy Homecoming Day!

**this is the last post of a seven week series of 'letters' to people, events and things that were part of the life transforming work God did in our lives during Mercy's stay in the NICU - for more on our growth in the NICU, check out our CaringBridge page**

Dear Doctor So and So

I trusted you...

I trusted you to medically nurture my pregnancy, to keep me as informed as possible of what complications may arise and what they would mean, to value the life of the little person growing inside of me, to give me reasons to feel peace about the outcome of my pregnancy, to hear me, to take time to talk to me, to acknowledge my fear and my pain, offer solutions, comfort, expertise...

...you let me down.

You caused MANY tears, I said MANY ugly and mean things, I felt hatred in my heart towards the way you talked about my daughter her first few minutes in the world, I yelled and fought and CRIED at the thought of returning to you, I experienced tremendous anxiety when I knew you were on call at the hospital, increased heart rate, cold sweat, all of that...

But...

Despite YOU and ME and ALL of the circumstances, you very successfully brought my child into the world... and you taught me an important lesson about forgiveness while you did it.

Remembering the anger I felt toward you brings back emotions I experienced that are not pleasant or nice, and often makes me wonder what my Creator and Savior feels when I hurt Him and rebel against Him on a daily basis...

One more time... my Creator and my Savior.

...and I rebel against Him daily.

The Giver of my life and my child's life who rescued me, offering me eternal life because He loves me... that's the one I choose to sin against daily.

I believe He has every reason to feel infinitely more towards me what I have felt towards you.

It's taken more than a year to process the lesson you taught me and I still feel immense pain at times...

...but one year and a precious, healthy baby girl later I know that I've forgiven you.

Doctor, I forgive you because without you, that sweet girl may not be here today.

I forgive you...

...because Christ forgave me.

"Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved,

compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience,

bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other;

as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive.

And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony."

Colossians 3:12-14

**this post is part of a seven week series of 'letters' to people, events and things that were part of the life transforming work God did in our lives during Mercy's stay in the NICU - for more on our growth in the NICU, check out our CaringBridge page**

Dear Drivers

I cherish your involvement in my life so very much.

For three weeks after Mercy came I was advised not to drive. And I hurt and I'm a wimp, so I knew I couldn't push the limits. Chris works so after I came home from the hospital and my mother went home to Georgia, I was stuck.

Stuck at home fifteen minutes away from my sick baby girl.
Fifteen minutes may not seem far... for many mamas with sick babies hours away it might seem like a dream come come true, a next door neighbor.

For me, it was another galaxy...

...and there was absolutely no way for me to get there on my own.

Until YOU stepped in!

YOU saw my desperate need.

YOU sought me out.

YOU sacrificed your time, gas, money, energy for me.

YOU brought me to my little girl, where I needed to be but could never have been without you stepping in.

Every day for three weeks each of you in a very literal way lived out the implications of the Gospel to me.

I can never thank you enough.

When I was stuck, alone in a dark place, you reminded me how GOD stepped in, how HE sought me out, and how HE sacrificed His Son for me, so that one day HE could bring me to a place I could never get without Him stepping in...

Absolutely amazing.

"And you were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience— among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind. But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved— and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God..."

(Ephesians 2:1-8)

What a beautiful truth, I will remember you every day for what you did for me, I will worship HIM continually for what He did for me!



**this post is part of a seven week series of 'letters' to people, events and things that were part of the life transforming work God did in our lives during Mercy's stay in the NICU - for more on our growth in the NICU, check out our CaringBridge page**

Dear Baby Boy In The Corner

You made your entrance into the world and the NICU just a few weeks before us and you were making great progress, growing and doing every bit of what you needed to do to head home.

You were so loved by your nurses who used to say you were going to grow up to be a pastor and evangelist. There was nobody in the NICU who raised their hands higher than you did!

Oh, I used to love peeking over to your corner isolette by the window, you were precious! I never could understand how your mommy could stand to be away from you for so long.

Your granddaddy though, he was different. He couldn't handle being away from you for even one day. It was so obvious how important you were to him, every time he came to see you he was dressed to the nines for a very special occasion. YOU were his daily special occasion. I remember seeing him in the waiting room once when the unit was closed. There was a new baby in the NICU, so we would all have to wait a while to see our little ones. His ride couldn't wait with him and we watched him make phone call after phone call until he could find another ride a little bit later. He HAD to see you.

He loved you. So. Much.

I just loved your relationship. There were very rarely words, he rarely held you. But you were never alone. He was always there, by your side, loving you with every bit of the love in his heart.

We would visit and catch up sometimes while we were all scrubbing in and he would update us on your progress with THE biggest smile on his face. You were absolutely the apple of his eye.

I remember your last day in the NICU, meeting your mom and congratulating her on your homecoming. Your granddaddy was by her side as she got to know you, but when your mama's boyfriend came in, he had to leave. He didn't put up a fight, he didn't get upset, he just waited outside the door. I imagine him praying for you, for your transition into a stranger's home, that you would be loved and cared for well.

Oh, sweet boy, how loved you are today! 

When your nurse told me through tears that she ran into your granddaddy... Oh, I know that his prayers for you were answered! How loved, how cared for you are today in your Heavenly Father's arms!

You went home from the NICU healthy, and not many days later you went to your eternal home healthier.

You left an impact, baby boy. You and that precious granddaddy of yours painted a picture of a beautiful relationship...

...a picture of a child deeply loved by a Father, of a Father who would do anything to be by His child's side.

You reminded me of myself, broken, in need of a Father, a Savior. You showed me that even in my deepest moments of brokenness I can, I must, lift my hands high in praise and thanksgiving.
Your granddaddy, he was the only father you knew, he reminded me of my Heavenly Father, Who loves me deeply and stands by my side in silent confidence. I needed that in those so broken days crying by Mercy's bedside. Sweet boy, you reminded me of the hope I have in a Savior Who I need every day, a Savior Who is worthy of my praise.

See what great love the Father has lavished on us,

that we should be called children of God!

And that is what we are!

1 John 3:1

Oh, to see you in your Daddy's arms! What a glorious sight that will be!



**this post is part of a seven week series of 'letters' to people, events and things that were part of the life transforming work God did in our lives during Mercy's stay in the NICU - for more on our growth in the NICU, check out our CaringBridge page**

Dear Breastfeeding Gurus

THIS was a milestone week for us, one that has had ALL of you in my heart! This week we finished up the last of our formula and packed up the bottles that held the breastmilk and formula that grew our daughter over the last year. You were each such a huge part of the journey that led us to this week!

About four months ago I knew our breastfeeding journey was over and I found myself packing up my pump. It was such a unique experience, we had a love/hate relationship. On one hand it was INCREDIBLY freeing, this long and grueling part of my life was over! Amazing! On the other hand, I found myself grieving this part of my life ending. Breastfeeding was important to me. Before Mercy came, I set a goal... I wanted to make it to a year. At that time, I had no idea that the majority of Mercy's "breastfeeding" would come via electrical equipment that would cause bizarre and extraordinarily painful things like Raynaud's Phenomena and De Quervain's Tenosynovitis.

Despite our bizarre and awkward experience, however, I still had my heart set on making it to a year.

We made it EIGHT months, never exclusive, we supplemented with HMF or preemie formula from the very beginning and after eight months we were exclusive formula and baby food.

ALL of that was hard for this mama's heart.

You made it easier.

NICU breastfeeding gurus, you have a hard job.
Day one in my hospital bed, you showed up with this huge piece of equipment that I had no clue what to do with. You were there every day from the colostrum we swabbed in Mercy's cheeks to the first time we tried nursing during her regular tube feeding. You reminded me when I wept that it was not worth weeping over. When I cried over 10 cc's, you reminded me that 10 cc's was better than no cc's, and when there are no cc's that's ok too. You reminded me that Mercy was growing, and as far as feeding her went, that's what counted, not breast milk vs. formula.

Mama breastfeeding gurus, you have been there and back.
Your advice and the non judgmental viewpoints from mama's who struggled were immensely helpful to me when I wanted to quit. You shared your experiences, your successes, your hearts.

Breastfeeding gurus, you encouraged me not to give up, and when it was time to give up and I felt like I had failed, you encouraged me to look at my big eight month old girl growing like a weed. The evidence of incredible success stands in front of me each and every day!

Yesterday, as I packed up our Medela bottles that held so many triumphs and tears, I was reminded of the picture you painted for me...

...a picture of a King who didn't give up on a difficult mission, who, to the world, appeared to have failed His mission as He hung dying on a cross. But, oh, the success that was clearly before Him, clearly before us as we experience His saving graces each and every day!

THANK YOU for the example you set for me, the reminder that success may not look like what the world (or I!) thinks it should look like, the reminder of a King who wouldn't give up so that I could stand in His presence one day.

YOU made a difference, you had an impact on our lives!

Thank you!


**this post is part of a seven week series of 'letters' to people, events and things that were part of the life transforming work God did in our lives during Mercy's stay in the NICU - for more on our growth in the NICU, check out our CaringBridge page**

Dear Friend Who Knew Me

To many people I come off as a totally awkward, not sure what to say but super happy introvert with some ridiculous anxiety thrown in here and there.

You, friend, are one of a handful of friends who sees right through that awkward lady with issues.

I don't know how, I never see it coming, but every now and then somebody does it, somebody knows me totally and completely. You know me.

I'll never forget the moment I realized it.

Day two in the hospital, I returned a text from you asking if I needed anything.

"Something comfy, elastic-y, something to make me feel pretty." I was so over the hospital gown.

You work next door to a thrift shoppe, I didn't know what you would find, but surely they had something elastic-y in there!

You said you would see what you could do, and then I waited with my puffy knees expecting some type of old lady gown to drape over my swollen-ness.

You walked through the door with a box and a big smile, it was so good to see your face!

...and friend, the memory of opening that box you brought me has become for me such a physical representation of Psalm 139.

You have searched me, Lord,

and you know me.

You know when I sit and when I rise;

you perceive my thoughts from afar.

You discern my going out and my lying down;

you are familiar with all my ways.

Before a word is on my tongue

you, Lord, know it completely.

You hem me in behind and before,

and you lay your hand upon me.

Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,

too lofty for me to attain.

(vv. 1-6)

That day and over the course of the next seven weeks those verses would mean more to me than I ever realized they would.

I needed that reminder, I needed to remember that God knew me, He knew what I needed when I needed it, He knew each and every moment of those days, they were written in His book.

Even more so, I needed the reminder that He knew that tiny girl laying in an incubator down the hall raising her hand to the sky and praising Him with these words:

For you created my inmost being;

you knit me together in my mother’s womb.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;

your works are wonderful,

I know that full well.

My frame was not hidden from you

when I was made in the secret place,

when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.

Your eyes saw my unformed body;

all the days ordained for me were written in your book

before one of them came to be.

How precious to me are your thoughts, God!

How vast is the sum of them!

Were I to count them,

they would outnumber the grains of sand—

when I awake, I am still with you.

(vv. 13-18)

Thank you friend, for reminding me how good it is to know Him and to be known by Him!

Oh, and when I opened the box you handed me, I pulled out the shiniest hot pink satin pajamas with a loose drawstring waistband... amazing!


**this post is part of a seven week series of 'letters' to people, events and things that were part of the life transforming work God did in our lives during Mercy's stay in the NICU - for more on our growth in the NICU, check out our CaringBridge page**

Dear Doctor Who Loved Me Well

You must have thought I was an emotional nutcase...

I can't even put a number on the amount of times you were doing your rounds and ended up by my baby girl's isolette comforting this weeping mama.

I remember one time very specifically...

Mercy was having a super day, cruising along, growing, eating, breathing, everything we could hope for.

...and you found me there weeping.

I'm not just talking about wispy eyed, two or three tears either... this was an all out crazy lady SOB FEST!

You put your hand on my back and asked me why I was crying.

"I don't know..." I could hardly even get those three simple words out through the sobbing craziness going on.

To be completely honest, I was an emotional mess for a couple of months after Mercy came, I believe I was dealing with some postpartum depression, and often when there was nothing to do other than celebrate huge victories, I would look at my child in that incubator and cry because I still had to go home to an empty nursery... and that made me so sad.

I was real good at celebrating and I was real good at crying. I couldn't for the life of me figure out how I could be so filled with joy and so so sad at the exact same time.

You got it and no matter how many babies you still needed to see you always took the time to put a compassionate hand on my back and talk me through it. I don't know if you are remotely aware of how much those talks meant to me or what they did for my confused heartache...

...but all those times you found me crying at my sweet girl's bedside, all those times you counseled me, not only on her health but on the importance of my role in her life in those moments, all the compassion you had for me... you painted a picture for me...

...a picture of Someone who met me in my weakest moment, who had compassion on this sinner, compassion that carried Him down a path that would enable me have the capacity to feel joy even in sadness and in fear.

You reminded me of the JOY Christ experienced during His horrendous death on the cross and what that means for me, for my daughter!

Those babies and mama's hearts that you touch are so blessed, and we are so blessed to have been two of them!

Thank you!
  Mercy's Mama


**this post is part of a seven week series of 'letters' to people, events and things that were part of the life transforming work God did in our lives during Mercy's stay in the NICU - for more on our growth in the NICU, check out our CaringBridge page**

Dear Mama Who Acknowledged My Pain

You lost your eyesight.

You almost lost your life.

You didn't meet your baby girl for six days and when you did, you couldn't see her beautiful face.

You laid in your bed in the ICU and felt her preciousness rest against your body.

But you could not see her.

I never understood how you could sit with me and acknowledge my very minimal pain.

You know, Mercy's birth story was significant and completely ordained, beautiful and something I look at with love and amazement, but...

Those weeks and months after she came were painful and emotional.

Sitting with you and seeing your eyes SEEING me and telling me that my pain mattered and my journey was significant was life changing for me.

How could what I went through even begin to compare to what you went through?

You're STILL going through treatment, and yet you looked at me and comforted me. You reminded me that, yes, our stories are different, but each is significant, each will be used, and God cares deeply about each and every detail, each and every difference. Pain is pain and we can't compare our experiences, we can only thank Him for the grace He offers us to heal and grow through them.

I hope you know that you showed me how to see Christ as my Healer.

I know that when you held your sweet girl that first time, your eyes couldn't see her. I know they saw Jesus. I know that your focus on HIS face got you through the ICU, months of dialysis and the NICU.

You never turned your gaze from Him, even when your eyesight returned.

You showed me how to heal.

You showed me that my pain mattered and was healable.

Friend, your friendship is a reminder of Christ's healing sacrifice in my life and I want you to know that I'm so so grateful for you.

Love you friend,
  Your NICU Neighbor


**this post is part of a seven week series of 'letters' to people, events and things that were part of the life transforming work God did in our lives during Mercy's stay in the NICU - for more on our growth in the NICU, check out our CaringBridge page**

Dear Daddies Who Were There Before Us

There were two of you. One nearing the end of your NICU journey and the other just beginning several weeks before us.

You introduced yourselves to us.

You shared your baby girls with us.

You shared your experiences with us.

You two men gave us hope for our own baby girl.

When you talked to us about your NICU experiences, you brought us peace about ours.

We knew our girl's journey would look differently than your two girl's journeys looked. We knew we would have different experiences and different obstacles to cross.

But walking out of the hospital a year ago yesterday felt a whole lot easier having heard your stories.

...and I know I could never thank you enough for that.

Reading back through the CaringBridge post I wrote last January 22 was extremely hard. Remembering the moment of leaving the hospital empty-handed brought back painful emotions that I haven't thought about or felt in many months.

However, I vividly remember recalling four simple words you spoke to us just three days earlier, "She's in good hands."

...and she was.

In those first days, y'all painted a picture of FAITH for me.

It would be necessary to have faith in the doctors and nurses who took care of Mercy, to believe in their hearts that cared deeply for her the moment she took up residence in one of their incubators, to know fully that they had her very best interests at heart and to trust their knowledge in the medicine they practice.

Over the next seven weeks our faith in her medical staff would deepen alongside our faith in her Heavenly Father.

Not only would it be necessary to have faith in her doctors and nurses, it would be infinitely more necessary to have faith in the God to whom she belongs, to believe in His heart that loves her so much more deeply than we even know how to love, to know without question that He always would have her very best interests at His heart and to have unwavering trust in His sovereign knowledge of every day He would give us to spend with her on this earth.

So... thank you, daddies, for reminding me of the Hands she was in then, is in now, and just how good they are.

**this post is part of a seven week series of 'letters' to people, events and things that were part of the life transforming work God did in our lives during Mercy's stay in the NICU - for more on our growth in the NICU, check out our CaringBridge page**

Dear Nurse Who Cleared the NICU

Yesterday was exactly one year since the day I met you. I will never forget that day.

You had not spent one minute with me, but you had met my husband and you had spent hours taking care of my daughter.

You cared about me and you loved my family before I ever met you, and you took the initiative to do something for me, a complete stranger, that led to a life altering moment.

You cleared the NICU.

You set up an incredibly perfect and private moment and walked me to the unit to see my daughter for the first time...

...off the ventilator!

How special that surprise was to me!

You knew what that would mean to a momma who was worried about her baby girl, who was terrified to see her with those tubes in her mouth, not knowing how long they would be there or if we would get to know her without them.

You knew I needed that moment alone with my husband and baby and you made it happen.

You rocked my world that night and you painted a picture of Christ's love for me, someone who was deeply loved by Him before I even knew Him. Someone He set up a perfect moment for, a moment that would change everything... a moment that would make me His daughter!

I thank you for loving us since day one and for revealing Christ to me in days that were filled with fear and tears.

I pray that you will continue to be used in the lives of momma's who walk through those scary doors into the NICU, and that your sweet heart would bring comfort as you love on those tiny babies the way you loved on ours.

You will never be forgotten in this house, my friend!


**this post is part of a seven week series of 'letters' to people, events and things that were part of the life transforming work God did in our lives during Mercy's stay in the NICU - for more on our growth in the NICU, check out our CaringBridge page**

Hey Birthday Girl!

Hey Birthday Girl!

Know what today is??

It's a big deal... It's a big DAY.

It's the first anniversary of the most important day of your life.

One year ago today God surprised us with the best gift we've ever received: YOU. You came ten weeks early, 2 pounds, 5 ounces and 15 inches long and today......

...is your FIRST BIRTHDAY!!!

Today we are celebrating YOU... all 17 pounds, 1 ounce and 29 inches of YOU!

We're gonna celebrate, we're gonna pin the fin on the mermaid, we're gonna eat cupcakes, spend time with family, open some gifts, smother you with hugs and kisses, reminisce about last January, look at pictures, and then you know what else we're gonna do? We're gonna celebrate some more!

Why?

...because it's your birthday, and in this house we celebrate birthdays, weeks and months!

...because YOU, Mercy Marie Ellzey, are a gift worth celebrating.

...and because one year ago today you changed our lives permanently.

How can we not celebrate you today?

Did you know that when you came into our world last January 18 YOU became the clearest picture of the mercy of Jesus that we had ever personally experienced?

Did you know that every day that has passed since then, Jesus has shown us His mercy more and more abundantly?

Did you know that seeing Jesus give YOU the strength and mercy you needed to fight in the NICU gave us a completely new understanding of what His mercy looks like in our own lives?

In the first days and weeks of your life we knew we may not get to keep you, we knew the very real possibility that you may not get to stay here on earth with us. That realization gave way to many hard and scary conversations between your daddy and me. One thing we knew, the one thing that gave us hope and stared right at us each time we walked towards your isolette... a small piece of paper with your tiny foot prints and one big word written right under your left heel:

MERCY

Your name was chosen for you years ago before we knew anything about your birth story.

It could not be a more perfect fit, your name means 'withholding the judgement that one deserves.'

Mercy, you have painted a beautiful picture of mercy, you have been used in incomprehensible ways in our lives. Your birth, your fight, your growth have displayed in such clarity the death that we've been spared from experiencing and the absolutely magnificent and completely undeserved gift of life that we've been given in Jesus.

Sweet one, we got to keep you, we got to bring you home and watch you grow, and today we get to sing 'happy birthday' to you for the very first time!

You, daughter of the King, daughter of... mine??

How did we get such a gift?

When Jesus gifted us with you, He blessed us so tremendously more than we could ever have requested or deserved.

Know what's crazy, sweet girl?

The gift of YOU is but a light shining towards the gift of Jesus, the SON OF GOD hanging on a cross for my sin and yours, risen to life and sittin' with His Daddy right now.

Know who His Daddy is? YOUR Daddy!

Precious girl, may every day of your life be a celebration of how much your Daddy loves you. May you grow each day in your understanding of the mercy He has shown you. May you fall so in love with the Creator and Sustainer of your beautiful life and one day, may we celebrate an even more important day, the first day of your new life in Him.

So... We'll celebrate you today, and we'll celebrate you tomorrow...

Know why?

Because YOU, little lady, are a daily reminder, a daily portrait of the face of the mercy of Jesus Christ, and we love you with every bit of our existence.

Happy Birthday sweet, precious gift.

All my love,
  Your Momma!

*I've mentioned before that our lives were transformed during Mercy's seven week stay in the NICU. This is the first post in a seven week series of 'letters' to people, events and things that were part of that transformation, that pointed us toward Jesus, the Gospel, and Biblical truths. Consistency is my goal here, and consistency is a struggle for me, so we'll see how this series thing goes!! :)

Saying Bye Bye

We talked last time about how I'm a sentimental nutcase...

So it should come as no surprise that leaving 2013 behind is throwing me off a little. How exciting that we're entering a new year, new milestones, new newness, who knows what kind of craziness is going to happen in all of the new ahead of us!

But.......

2013 was the best ever. EVER.

...in every way possible. Just... the best.

So when I got up this morning with Mercy, all excited about the newness today brings, I couldn't help but find tears welling up... We spent some time in her room, she explored and since she's strictly in 6-9 month clothes now, I started cleaning out her 3 month clothes.

I dread this every time... Putting away little onesies and precious outfits that she's outgrown is literally devastating to me! My favorite little things that I couldn't wait for her to be big enough to wear, she's now too big to wear and that just boggles my mind. How am I supposed to say goodbye to these little things that mark milestones in my sweet girls growth?? How am I supposed to just put them in a bag and toss them in the attic to be forgotten until maybe needed again...?? Oh man... I can't handle it.

...and looming in the back of my mind is the knowledge that in just a few months I'll be doing this again.... Oh man. Already feeling sad about that!

So... of course, after I was completely done, before I handed the bag over to be sent to the attic, I snuck back in to grab my very favorite:

...just not ready, y'all.

Newness, I love it. I love experiencing each new little bit of awesomeness that happens with Mercy every day. This is SUCH a fun stage, watching her learn new things on a daily basis, and her fascination with everything new she finds is so much fun to see.

...but with newness, we inevitably have to say "bye bye" to the old.

And that's just not easy for me.

Thank God for Mercy. She is teaching me so much through this stage. For her, this newness is a breeze! When that girl started crawling, there was no looking back! She was so ready to go and leave sitting still in the dust!

...and don't you think that's God's desire for our hearts?

As we daily turn our lives over to Him and learn to trust in Him, don't you think He longs to see us joyfully leave old sins and old habits in the dust?

In 2 Corinthians 5:17 Paul says, "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come."

This is what happens when we turn to Christ. It happens out of joy and gratitude to the Savior of our souls. It's a natural occurrence, Christlike newness. Certainly not something that credits us with salvation, but in contrast, it's something that happens in response to the free gift of salvation we've been given in Christ. And... it's awesome.

It is. Super awesome.

Even with this incredibly awesome Christlike newness that I experience daily, I struggle. I struggle so hard to say goodbye to sins that I'm dealing with, that I've dealt with for years. Leaving those things in the dust, that's called repentance. It's turning from our sins, and doesn't always come easy. Especially when you like to hold onto things of old like I do!  ...so hard to say goodbye to old sins and habits that harm my relationship with God.

This one here:

...she's teaching me loads and loads about saying bye bye to the old.

She's a daily reminder of the joy found in Christlike newness. When she accomplishes something new, her face lights up with excitement as soon as she locks eyes with her daddy. I love to watch him work with her on new skills she's practicing, he helps her learn to put one foot in front of the other as she practices walking holding onto his hands, he helps her learn new sounds and syllables, he claps and shouts with joy when she pulls up in tough spots. I looove to watch her crawl to him, reach for his hands, turn her head and smile when she hears his voice.

Mercy goes to her daddy for help and he is so more than excited to help her grow and learn tough new skills.

As I watch those two and consider my own struggle to say goodbye to the old, I am reminded of my Daddy's desire for me to come to Him for help in my own trek towards newness. I'm reminded of His joy in teaching me to turn from the old toward Him and the beautiful newness He offers me... and I'm reminded of the JOY in all of this.

There is so much joy in Christlike newness, in the gift of salvation and in this amazing life of following Him.

Saying "Bye bye..."

Love it, embrace it, friends. It's new. It's good.

Let's experience Christlike newness each day in 2014, let's seek His face and learn to grow more and more into His likeness. Let's LOVE all the new that He offers us.

Speaking of new, check out Mercy's new camera, now she's just like her mommy!!