Can you believe its already thanksgiving?!? I surely can’t! I recall in my youth (yes I can say that now that I am old and have had 3 children) how time stood still and now I can’t seem to make it slow down.

Miss Kyre Grace is two and now we are quickly approaching Ezzy’s 4th bday, its bittersweet to see her grow. When you are told there are only so many precious years you will have with her, it makes the coming and going of time something that you rejoice but mourn. I am forcing myself to not go into the black hole I tend to find comfort in around this time of year. My mind, my photographic memory is my worst enemy right now. It is nearly impossible to relieve the tragic events surrounding her birth and sudden medivac to Seattle. I hear a song, I pull out a winter hat, I watch a movie and I find myself filled with sadness. But I am really determined that we will celebrate her life this year, she doesn’t hold onto memories thank goodness or she might be asking God why He gave her such a mean and at times inpatient mom, so why am I holding on to them?

Ezzy is currently in a phase of talking about being a mommy ALOT, she tells me who her husband will be, how many kids she will have, how they won’t ever drink a bottle, and how her babies will need enzymes just like her. I shared my grief with a dear friend over the infertility that CFers face and she encouraged me to talk with Ezzy about adoption, to prepare her heart for a different picture…um,duh? I myself have an older sister who is adopted and I love to hear my mom recall the day they went and got her and how the 6 yrs of an empty womb vanished immediately when her baby was placed in her arms.

I should have known something was going to try and test me, to rob my peace as I am trying to cling to it. I should have known that when I finally surrender to trusting God with my hurt it meant that I am going to be faced with something even bigger then I thought.

That day came a week ago, I received a phone call from a women who had heard about our story. She had read the article the newspaper did on us shortly after Ezzy’s birth. It was in the next few seconds a pit developed in my stomach, my heart raced and I immediately felt God guard my heart. The woman shared with me that she had a “situation with CF” and wanted to meet myself and Ezzy. I asked her what her experience was. I heard the hesitation on the other line and wondered if the call had gotten dropped. I then heard a shaky voice tell me that just before the article had come out on Ezzy, she had made the choice to terminate her pregnancy with her son, because the amnio results came back with a positive CF diagnosis.

I had no words, my worst fear came to life and I was standing in my bedroom with the door closed to hid my girls “discussing” their dislike for me being on the phone. I immediately felt angry and wanted to end the conversation ASAP, but then I heard voice gently tell me “Sarah, YOU are redeemed because of me, YOU have been forgiven from all your stupid choices” I knew I had to quiet the advocate, the mother, and caregiver of Ezzy. I had to relinquish the judgement I was so quick to deliver to a mom who made a choice, one that I would never do and for some reason was calling me. Her reasons became known in a further conversation. Which has now placed me in a difficult situation. One that requires me to live up to what I am called to do. To show Christ’s love. I can’t give her the atonement she wants, I can’t tell her that her choices were okay, and I can’t deny who I am either. So now as a dear friend told me, “it sounds like God is calling you to a VERY difficult friendship, one that can bring something beautiful”. I will have to put my grief aside for her precious baby boy that was thrown in the KGH hospital trash and have to know that he is being held in his, mine, his mother’s and Ezzy’s maker’s loving arms. The tears that I shed for him were and are ok, somebody had too.

I wonder if my current circumstances wouldn’t have made me so sensitive to this phone call. But then I would be lying if I said they did, because no matter what I am currently going through, I know without a doubt that each life God places carefully inside a mother’s womb is fearfully and wonderfully made. How do I know this, I look at my 3 precious babies. Each one of them changing me, making me the mother, wife, and woman I am today. My child that the world wants to tell me is imperfect transformed me into someone I can gladly say I am thankful to be, my former self is gone and she has made me a better person.

I know that each life matters because the tiny little life growing in me has already changed me yet again. I find myself cradling my stomach and praying over each step of knitting God is doing. I can’t stop but smile as I feel little flutters after eating my 100th satsuma orange this pregnancy. But most of all I know that this little life is here, growing and coming for a purpose.

Yes, those 2 little lines were a shock, I didn’t think I was pregnant, Richard however knew. The change that took place was my complete trust in God, as you know that didn’t happen with Kyre. I have felt peace and joy more then I have ever experienced with any other child. Each child’s reaction was endearing and we will hold onto them forever. We told Kyre first expecting her lack of vocab to limit her, however we learned how amazing she is at charades and she spilled the beans to her siblings, Cayden drew me a picture the following day of his “baby brother”, and Ezzy calmly sat at my feet and rubbed my legs as they did the ultrasound, studying every detail of her “baby sister”.

So today as thanksgiving is rapidly approaching and I am praying my GF stuffing dries out in time, I have an overwhelming heart of thanksgiving. Because there are no mistakes when God creates life. So I am clinging to the joy HE wants to give me and am finding joy as we embark on this journey with our #4, as we trust our maker and wait for this little one to change our lives again! We are so excited to share this news with you all, thanks for taking the time to read about our family!

Kyrene Grace I will never forget the morning I first found out about you. I crawled into bed and wept in your daddy’s arms. My tears weren’t relief or joy that we would soon be bringing another life into the world. My tears were plagued with fear and anger. I was shocked, confused and worried. We had been doing everything right, taken all the steps to not have another child, more specifically another child with CF. Yet there I was with two little lines that determined my future.

God has a reassuring way of revealing HIS timing and plan. When I was unable to experience a shred of joy in the months leading up to the results of the amnio, He thankfully brought people to me that had joy to share. The few people who thought about the broken scared momma before they spoke are people I will one day tell you about. They first reaction was complete JOY, but then empathy when they thought about your big sister, and then FAITH as they knew who to go to when praying for you.

I will never forget the day I found out that you weren’t coming with an expiration date. It was midmorning, your papa had come over to see Ezzy and I was cleaning the kitchen. The phone rang and I began to ignore it like I usually do, but then I had the need to walk over and see the caller ID. I panicked and grabbed the phone immediately once I saw the Seattle area code. We weren’t expecting a call for another week. When I answered the phone, the caller revealed why they were calling, within seconds, I found out that the needle that had invaded your home revealed you were going to be healthy just like your brother. I laughed, told the women she had no idea how much she made my day and quickly said goodbye. Your father rejoiced with me a few minutes later, along with all the other people who had been praying for you since they found out about your existence.

We promised your siblings that you would come when the snow came…BIG mistake! Your brother was so upset the first time the snow fell and you were still nestled in my tummy. The day finally came and I found myself in labor at 10:30 at night. You didn’t come easy not that I should have expected it. You took your time, I remember being at my wits end, and then there you were looking up at me laying on my chest. Before we left, Debbie and Leonard came to hold you, kiss you, and pray over you. You were anointed with oil and had verses read over you and a vision of your life was revealed to your parents who couldn’t believe Gods Grace, yes miss Gracie Poo, we named you Kyrene Grace, which means the Lords Grace, because HE is faithful. As we began to bundle you up and prepare you for two little people who couldn’t wait to see you, we looked out the hospital window and saw SNOW falling.

JOY, the last thing I experienced in the 22 wks of waiting to hear the results, soon became a daily, hourly, minute, and every second reality. I couldn’t believe how easy going you were. You tolerated the endless sticky kisses from your brother and sister, chunks of donuts in your hair, the constant barking of the dog who felt the need to protect the newest member of the pack, and most of all you calmly waited your turn until mommy could hold, change, feed you since your brother and sister required so much.

Over the last 2 years I have watched you become your sister’s best friend. You have provided her so much JOY when her life of isolation and loneliness is her reality.

Your brother turns to mush at the second you cry after being reprimanded or hurt and I soon find you in his arms. You love to play tricks on them and come laughing to me when I hear them calling my name in an annoyed tone. You can’t let daddy leave lunch without atleast 3 rounds of kisses and hugs. You make sure mommy spends a minimum of 10 minutes holding you each morning before you embark on all the adventures your 2 year old mind dreams of. You are teaching us the meaning of FAITH, how God knew we all needed you to bring JOY into our lives. JOY each time we have to leave 5 minutes early because you INSIST on buckling yourself, JOY when you decide to be a helper and try to empty your potty on your own when mommy is doing the dishes, JOY when you decide to hide your binkies in places because daddy keeps telling you they are going to go away for ever, JOY when you sing at the top of your lungs ANYTIME you hear music.

Miss Gracie Poo, we love you. I don’t think there are enough words to describe how we all feel about you, you have ministered to our hearts in different ways and we all have a different bond with you. I could waste time feeling guilt or shame about my heart in regards to your life, but I won’t. I believe you are who you are because God knew that in order for us to fulfill HIS plan for our family, we needed you. Thank you for always giving affection to one of us when we need it most, thank you for scrunching your nose when mommy and daddy are in too deep of a conversation, and thank you for reminding us all that there is always time to dance and sing when JOY is pouring out of you! Happy 2nd birthday!!!!!!

Last week I had caught a pesky cleaning bug, not to be confused with the one that I have everyday and won’t let me relax until my floors are cleaned, beds are made, kitchen clean and de-cluttering of piles my children and husband create with ease. I caught the bug that all of a sudden makes your eyes aware to the grease stains against your dining room wall, that just so happen to be the height of your 1 yr olds hands when standing in her seat. I quickly laid the children down in hopes that I could go and make the wall stop screaming at me to clean it. Nap time is my treasure, my quiet place, my reward for holding it together when the baby decides to fill her diaper just when we are already running late for school and walking out the door or when her sister decides to have a meltdown because she “has nothing to wear” or best of all when the sweet, precious, thoughtful 5 yr old boy all of a sudden talks back to you with a fowl face. I hate giving up nap time, I read, pray, work on worship, call breastfeeding moms for work or better yet sometimes get to take a 45 min nap!!!

So there I was on my hands and knees scrubbing the walls in my kitchen during nap and I found myself with this immense amount of self worth…for all my working mom/wife friends, please don’t roll your eyes…I really did enjoy it. I started getting excited and began to anticipate Richard coming home after working a long day just. I wanted him to walk into his home that he leaves daily to ensure we are clothed, fed, and off the streets, and be able to feel like a king. I was immediately drawn to the INTIMIDATING verses in Proverbs 31. You know what I am talking about, even if you haven’t been raised in church, I would be surprised if you have NEVER heard of this “ideal” woman.

I had a smile on my face, a bounce in my step and I started mopping the floors (something that I don’t usually do since my helpful husband mops and cleans our hardwood floors, I just sweep and vacuum daily). I started to attack the pile of dirty dishes, yet again something I don’t EVER do, my husband has been washing dishes for the last 4 yrs…I know you can hate me later. I desired to be that women who is “energetic and strong, a hard worker” Proverbs 31:17.

A few days later the baking bug bit and bit hard. I had finally received my order of GF flours that I had been waiting weeks for and had overheard my husband moaning about wanting pumpkin pie during our very sudden crisp fall weather. A few months ago meeting his tummy’s desires would not have been a hard task, but I am still very new to this whole GF cooking/baking. It has been 4 months since going GF and I have been attempting recipes that are easy. Being a somewhat experienced baker/cook, always from scratch and making a pie crust that I have been asked countless times for the recipe, I was scared to try a GF crust.

Among the 9 piles of laundry blocking the view to my back yard patiently awaiting their turn in the washing machine, I found my self armed with Proverbs 31:15, “she gets up before dawn to prepare breakfast for her household”. I know I wasn’t getting up early, but I was sacrificing for the one I love, I understood what that verse meant for me. I pulled out my very first christmas present from my husband 6 yrs. ago and placed the kitchen-aide mixer on the table. I called the girls and told them to come and help me make a pie for daddy! They came running, smiles on their faces, because let’s be honest, they learn how to be a wife and mommy not from what you tell them, but by the example you lead.

They took turns without fighting over who got to measure the flour, salt, sugar or crack the egg. I soon saw that my pie crust was going to make it, that it would be something that I would proudly stand at the door waiting for my hubby to come home to. I have loved to cut out and shape fall leaves for my crust through out the years, because I will never forget the first time I did, having my husband rub my back and feet and telling me how wonderful and beautiful my pumpkin pie was.

Ezzy being the ever inquisitive child grilled me on each step, but when we got to the leaf making part I realized I needed to really explain to her why I was spending ALL the extra time to do something so meticulous. I told her in layman’s terms the important role a wife has, Proverbs 31:27 “she carefully watches everything in her household and suffers nothing from laziness”. I placed the last leaf on the pie and had two little hands wrapped around mine slowly pouring the pumpkin filling into the pie shell. She and her little sis helped clear the table and I handed her a rag and sprayed the table, knowing she would start wiping the table off, as she has started to do because of finding worth in being mommy’s little helper. Proverbs 31:28 “her children stand and bless her”.

My husband walked through the door with the weight of the world on his shoulders, I immediately guarded my heart and prepared myself for the let down in reaction to the fresh out of the oven pumpkin pie waiting for him. He stopped mid sentence grabbed me and held me close and told me how much he loved me, Proverbs 31:28 “her husband praises her”.

Through our short 7 years of marriage I have been a horrible, substandard, demanding at times, unforgiving wife. I was young, strong willed and worst felt more spiritually mature then my husband. That all changed one sunday morning when our pastor gave a sermon about SUBMISSION…I KNOW, a word that the world tells us women is an insult to our gender. I walked away convicted and yes felt condemnation at points, but I soon realized I was really messing with the marriage God wanted us to have. There were days I made leaps and bounds in the biblical submission. Then there were days my mouth and attitude put me right back to square one.

Eventually I started to make head way. God placed some wonderful God fearing women who were honest about the struggle of TRUE submission, the at times impossible standard the Proverbs 31 woman made and their own victories and failures.

As I started to have a heart change and not just a mind change, I saw a different man throughout the years…

The man who recently made me GF ck noodle soup from scratch after caring for the kids all morning long and a suddenly sick wife. The man who stands at the kitchen sink listening to God’s word through Christian rap and allows God to do soul work while he is scrubbing away the grime from our dirty dishes or even his own soul. The man who sat by me on a friday night with all kids in tow to support me leading worship in a new setting, which just so happened to be way past their bed time. He could have been home decompressing the week and putting kids to bed early.

You see, when I decided to stop thinking about my own self worth and trying to achieve and maintain it in the ways the world tells me to, I started to realize that I found so much worth in finding my identity as a child of God and then his wife and now a mom. All it took was being his cheerleader, “her husband can trust her, and she will greatly enrich his life” Proverbs 31:11. It meant that no matter how hard my day with poopy diapers, children experiencing the new found joy in autonomy or the daily demands of running a house, that I had to wait and be there for him FIRST. I started to bite my tongue when he came home, asked him how his day was and once I heard him, encouraged him, supported him, I would then go and prepare a meal for him, knowing that when he was able to let go of the day he would be there for me just as I was for him. “when she speaks, her words are wise, and she gives instructions with kindness” Proverbs 31:26…this is still a daily challenge for me friends.

He recently tackled a big project that I to be honest wasn’t sure he could do. I mean, he works in an office all day pushing paperwork, working with his hands isn’t trade-work. But after a wonderfully long sunday nap I awoke to my husband carrying in a beautiful wood bench he made after listening to me complain about the countless bowls of milk that kept finding their way on my piano bench that had taken up residence under our table. I expressed my shock verbally and physically and soon learned later in the day how much that meant to him. You see I didn’t force those things to coax his ego, I had said them out of habit, knowing deep within my soul that I have to be his cheerleader, “she brings him good, not harm, all the days of her life” Proverbs 31:12

In a world where people are trading spouses like a pair of dirty socks, I know that those people have/had the choice to make it work. I know that if I am not his cheerleader, if I don’t believe in him, if I don’t let him know I desire him just as much as he does me then it means soon something/someone else could.

So why am I writing this?!? Because I know there is a newly married wife or new mother out there that is trying to figure out who she is in her life. Asking how she is suppose to get and hold on to self worth and it’s driving her nuts. Because I know there is a woman out there who is struggling with the whole biblical submission and finding God’s word to at times be sexist and completely missing out on the beauty God designed in a partnership involving spouses. I know that there is a woman out there that just wants her husband to choose her first and doesn’t know how to get him to place her on the top of his soul’s list.

Please don’t think I have it figured out, because I DON’T have it figured out. I can recall a time not to long ago that I was disrespectful to my husband, because the bad day I had got to me. He didn’t deserve it, but he got it. I am just saying that in the years that I allowed my heart to change and conform to the new found knowledge I learned in God’s WORD, I saw the epitome of an Ephesians 5 man, who has modeled sacrificial love for me in SO many ways. He recently came to my defense, gave me sound advice and best of all was my protector and I didn’t ask him to be, he just did it out of habit and I can tell you I needed him to come and save me.

Ladies, are you one of those women I talked about in the above paragraphs? If so I want to encourage you to read Proverbs 31, find a friend to talk about it with, ask older women in church, but start reading it, dissect it, and ask God what does it mean for YOU. You know what I love about there being so many different translations in the Bible, I can re read a verse in a different translation and it becomes alive to me in a new way! If you don’t read the Bible and find the word submission a death sentence then just do this:
1. go find the best cheerleading outfit, pom pom, picture of said stuff, or sticker
2. hang it up somewhere you can see it to remind you of how important this simple act is
3. start being the biggest cheerleader he has ever had in his life

Soon you will see his heart change and be blessed by his love for you “her husband praises her: there are many virtuous and capable women in the world, but you surpass them all!” Proverbs 31:29.

I hope this jump starts you, because when I first started believing and obeying who I was called to be: a child of God, his wife, and mother to his children, along with all my daily duties, I soon realized that I can’t find self worth by trying to achieve it in how clean my house is or how fast I can run a race, how nice I dress on sunday, or the new success I achieved attaching pinterest uneding ideas. It’s when I decided to try out for the cheerleading squad that I soon had the support of a loving man who believes in me and lets face it, when a woman is confident in who she is, praised, believed in, supported, she CAN DO ANYTHING she puts her mind to “she makes sure her dealings are profitable; her lamp burns late into the night” Proverbs 31:18.

Go try out for his cheerleading squad and see that you can be “more precious then rubies” Proverbs 31:10, in his eyes.

I have been putting off writing my report on the recent conference I attended due to the fact that there was SO much new information that this stay at home mom’s brain had to download, but most of all because I am concerned that I wont be able to translate it correctly to my tribe…

I was shocked, excited, scared, any intense emotion out there I felt it, when the conclusion was made I would be the one going to represent my tribe at the National Indian Health Board Conference. I know I should have been ready, this was part of the work I knew I would be getting into, but I figured that the ruffling of feathers I have been doing during my short 8 months on the board would automatically mean that I would be benched for the conference. It came to a vote, and I walked away from that evening realizing I was going because THEY wanted me to go…

Never mind the fact that leaving my 3 babies for 6 days was terrifying, it was also intimating to think about having to dress professionally when I have lived in my faithful yoga pants for the last 6 yrs since leaving the work place, and then to think that I had to actually sound smart, sent me running to turn in my resignation…

My two sweet and giving friends, who seem to love me regardless of all my faults, dug through their closets and handed over professional attire that they had once worn before making the decision to join the club of stay at home moms. Their kindness can’t be overlooked and I just want to say I am so thankful for Kelsey and Deja, and the way they example giving hearts with no strings attached.

The day came for me to board the plane and say goodbye to my babies, Kyre had never experienced my absence, and I was a ball of nerves. I hugged them goodbye and tears clung to my eyes as my little man told me with tears he “missed me already”, then came the moment I tried to say good bye to Kyre, just to have her stiff arm me and cry, sadly she had figured out why everyone was crying. Ezzy, our tough girl, said “by mom!”…atleast one person in the house didn’t find sorrow watching the drill sergeant board the plane.

Alaskan Airlines, keeping up with their stellar customer service and putting clients first, managed to place my connecting flights” gates the farthest distance apart, and to top it off, leave 20 mins late each flight. By my last flight I was worn out and had successfully broken a sweat in 2 new airports, clinging to the hope I would see my bag at my final destination.

I woke the next morning and looked out at the amazing view from my room and said a prayer asking God to be with me. Humility, something that can come and go in a blink of an eye, is something my heart seeks God daily to give, especially when I find pride seeping in. I asked God to give me hearing ears, so I can go and speak for my people, just as God called Moses and through Aaron did. I asked God to make me a light, to protect me and help me to know what to do and say.

I walked out with freshly pressed pants, heels, and a fancy top and kept telling myself, “you can do this”. The next few days are where my dreams of the future will never be the same…

God placed God fearing women in my life, all who took it upon themselves to mentor me. They all held various positions in their tribes, one working as a consultant, one working as an IHS facility director, and one working as a health board member. Their mission in life was to make sure that I met everyone they possibly knew. I found myself at the end of each night, mentally and physically exhausted. My cheeks hurt from all the smiling and talking. My feet killed me from the heels that maybe touched my feet 3x a year for the occasionally wedding or event in small town .

I spent every break, meal time, and potential “me time” networking, many times not by choice, thanks to a pushy husband and my new mentors. As time wore on the the meetings grew in size and there was one thing that set me apart from others. As I surveyed the packed room of dark skin, high cheek boned, and long straight hair people, I couldn’t deny the disparity of ages. I was the youngest by atleast 15 yrs and the few of us 45 yrs and younger could be counted on both hands and feet. That night I was texting my experience with a friend and her hubby told me to read 1 timothy 4: 11-12. I ended that night with tears in my eyes and began to ask God to tell me what I was suppose to do with all this new knowledge.

The next day I had the opportunity to hear the president from the National Congress of American Indians speak. His name is Jefferson Keel, and as he said “I’m not here to tell you what a bureaucrat would say, I’m here to just state the facts”. He stated that the SEQUESTRATION shouldn’t be taking place upon the people who had owned 97% of the land, that “Funding is a moral and legal obligation from the US” The main issues he addressed were:
#1 poverty, the most pressing thing tribal leaders face today and many governing(congressional) leaders can’t relate because they haven’t experienced it themselves, which then leads to:
a. health issues
b. substance abuse
c. neglect of children=obesity, heart disease, suicide,social issues in school and with their peers (taking place due to the environmental and family factors that are effecting their social status).
d. domestic abuse

He also stated that, “some are becoming leaders because they are forced to be because of their current situations they are in” I found my heart racing, the tears fogging my eyesight, but more importantly I felt the nudging in my spirit, that the truth that was being laid out I couldn’t ignore when I returned home. This information that God intended for me to hear at this conference was the very thing to light a fire for my soon to be future. The very last statement he said was “we haven’t fought this battle like we have fought others”.

All of a sudden the information I had heard the day prior from the IHS director was different, the constant pushing of the Affordable Health Care Act, by people who stand to gain from the Native People, and the countless cries and demands falling on deaf ears for help from various tribal leaders all made sense.

Each workshop I attended, required me to lean on God, to point me in the right direction so I could learn and go back and share with my tribal leaders the impacts, decisions, and steps that need to be taken for the future of our people, the future of our children.

I lost count of how many people I met, and was in awe of the success of the tip my aunt had shared with me before leaving for the conference. She told me to make it a point to wear my culture, that it was really important to take pride in our heritage and share it with others. So my husband and I loaded up the kids and went shopping at a local store here in town. I have frequented this place quite a few times and the shop owner’s wife is usually cringing when I walk in the door because she knows I won’t walk away paying full price for anything. When I shared with her that I was leaving for a conference, she was immediately excited and told me that I was going to be going in style. I found myself with a BEAUTIFUL chilkat sharf, a leather hair piece, a wooden bangle, and some native art thank you cards, and a discounted price I never would have asked for. The scarf was my greatest treasure and allowed me to talk to so many people!

My last day in Michigan was a breath of fresh air. I was overjoyed to see that the conference ended and noon and was already dreaming of the pool I saw from my bedroom window and only graced once in the last 4 days. I was in desperate need of some alone time as I knew I would be jumping into mommyhood in less then 24 hrs. But that all changed when my mentors decided to rent a car and explore. We were staying at a beautiful large resort, that we hadn’t left in 5 days. I did however have the chance to run some of the land not on the resort thanks to deciding to follow some fast runners in a race the conference was holding. I was planning on walking it with my mentors, but they all knew that I was dying to run, so they sent me on my way…one lesson I learned was to make sure to not run faster then the person who’s responsibility it is to show where to turn…after running an extra 2 miles I found my way back, tired and dehydrated from the muggy Michigan weather. BUT, I did however still end up finishing in the top middle of the race! The race was put on with help from Billy Mills, the first american native to win an olympic gold medal, and the only us citizen to place in the 10000 m dash. I had the wonderful opportunity of meeting and yes, soon found out that we were family…I know, you white people are shaking your heads, but yes we shared our family tree and soon found out that I should be calling him “uncle”

Back to my last day…got side tracked with my other story :). We started out with a mission of finding some food and hoped to doing a little sight seeing. We stopped at a pizzeria and I thanked God for the gluten free pizza, since I had spent the majority of my trip picking at food and being very limited in my diet. We shopped at the tourist shops and I soon found out how much fun all the crazy tourist have here in our small alaskan town. But the part that had me ending my day with tears of joy and a sore belly from laughing, showed me God had orchestrated my entire trip. All the way down to getting lost with 3 navajo women on the outskirts of town in search of a lighthouse. We shared our experiences, stories, motivators that got us involved in the healthcare field for our people. We talked about our trials, how the substandard healthcare of ourselves, children and family was the underlying cause for us to desire to be a voice.

As I sadly said my goodbyes to the women who loved me like their own daughter, I told each one of them my sincere gratitude for reaching out to me and taking the time to introduce me to so many influential people. When my new choctaw hugged me goodbye she told me not loose sight of the future. That I am sharp, that I am capable of being the change that needs to happen, that I need to realize God gave me an amazing husband who supports all my endeavors, that God knew Ezzy would make me a mighty voice for those in need of adequate health care, but most of all that I am the hope of the future, that I am the one the torch is getting passed to.

So as I am digesting everything, I am finding my future a little clearer, and I am realizing that going back to school is on the agenda. If I am going to be a voice then I need to be an informed one. Richard and I have been working on the details and I will be applying to get my Master’s of Public Administration. As a friend recently told me, “if its God’s will then HE will foot the bill”. To all my friends who find joy in praying for others, will you add me to your list? I am aware that going back to school with 3 little ones will be a challenge, but I also have a lot of peace, realizing that each step that I have been taking in faith has lead to me my current role in tribal politics and healthcare. With God on my side to guide me and keep me humble, I pray I won’t disregard the responsibility that will come as I choose to reach out for the torch and pray that I won’t drop it.

As I have mentioned in past blogs, any chance we get to educate people we try our hardest. Local races is one of the venues we have alot of fun at. We had the opportunity to run with some friends of ours at the Family Fun Run at Wardlake. It was a typical southeast alaska rainy day. My little cousins were in town from Arizona and decided they wanted to run the race with us.

I had urged, well to be honest, told Richard he was going to run the 5k. In the past he has just done the 1 mile race with the kids and then cheered me on as I did the 5k on my own. I knew that he could handle the race since we had ran together in a virtual race just the month prior. I have to admit it was my favorite date this year. It was miserably cold and side ways rain was beating our house’s windows. My dad willingly came over and let us go. I had thought we were just going to do a 2 mile run, something that someone in Richard’s “shape” could do. We approached the turn around and he told me, “hey lets keep going”…really…I was shocked and wasn’t going to argue since training for the 1/2 marathon I find anything less then 6 miles almost a waist of time…truthfully!

So there we were running and all of a sudden I realized I lost my running partner, I stopped, turned around and went back for the person who looked like they were about to lose the big breakfast they slaved all morning on. At one point I heard him yell to me, “hey, do you know how manly I feel letting you take the lead?!?”. So our virtual race with all the other people around the world running for their CFers soon looked like the tortise and the hair. It was alot of fun, and he was a great sport about it and managed to keep his breakfast and part of his pride at the end.

The kids had a blast running the Family Fun Run. My mom even ran the 1 mile pushing Kyre, I ran with cayden in the front and Ezzy and Richard held up the back. Our little cousins ran their hearts out, not complaining and soon became proud of their accomplishment. Our friends’ little 2 year old even ran part of the race! She has been such a blessing in Ezzy’s life and has been a her social life. Richard and I started the 5k together, but I soon heard my husband wave me off and say, “GO, don’t wait for me”. I couldn’t help but listen, its really hard to hold back, so I double checked with him and looked for any doubt mixed with the pain written on his face from trying to keep a pace that was close to mine. I ran off, alone with my thoughts, praying, like always do for the little girl who has changed me in every possible way. Running for her has become my best therapy. Its the time of the week, I am guaranteed to be alone, uninterrupted, and its when I can talk with God. There have been many runs where I have had an agenda and in the end, finished with God showing me that its HIS desires I need to be asking for.

It was this same race last year that I ran and had someone come up to me after asking about my “breathing for Ezzy” shirt. I told her about Ezzy, tears building up, and handed her my CF bracelet and told her to think about my girl each time she ran. I honestly NEVER thought I would see her again, since she had explained to me that she didn’t live in Alaska.

I received a letter just a few months ago, with this picture attached.

The woman had hunted me down, I don’t even recall telling her my name. She told me in the letter she had been running for our Ezzy the last year and was SO excited when she ran her first 10k for Ez. She told me that her and her family would be coming up for the blueberry arts fair and was hoping to officially meet and maybe run together!

When my sweet friend Kelsey found out that we were going to run the blueberry race she took it upon herself to make “team Ezzy” shirts for our little support group. We had two other families from our church who wanted to stand/walk/run along side us. Kels took it upon herself to make shirts for ALL the little kids and their parents. It was a labor of love and she gave up many naps and evening hours when she could have been resting after caring for her own 2 little ones two and under.

Race day came and I anxiously waited to meet the woman who had heard just a small snippet of our story and chose to become an advocate. I was trying to squash the competitive person I had become since running. I loved race day, it was so much fun to run and try and beat my PR each race. But this race was going to be different. This race I had to go back to the very reason I picked up running at all. Thanks to my nervous friend who held me accountable, reminding me what “its really about”, I knew I had to humble myself and run along side someone who very well didn’t run the same pace as me. I decided to not listen to music and just run with this person I had only spoken to once since the race last year.

Cayden ran his little heart out, he ended up taking 8th out of 18th in the race. He was the youngest little guy to run that fast!!!! Our friends’ daughter ran with us, her very 1st race and was such a joy to run with. Her and cayden pushed each other and encouraged one another the whole way. Ezzy had a different experience and completely went into shambles as she approached the MASSIVE group of people watching the finish line. Everyone started cheering, those who knew our story cheered louder and I looked around and saw people in pure awe of the little 3 year who was defying science before their eyes.

The time came for the “team ezzy” stroller gang and me and my new running partner to get to the starting line. Our friends signed up to walk the 5k while we did the 10k. It was strange to run without music, I soon became aware of my surroundings. I could hear the slapping of many feet hitting the pavement, I could hear the labor of breaths being taken while running up the steep hill, but the thing I will never forget is Kels yelling to me “whose idea was this Sarah Harney?!?” I turned around at the top of the hill to see the stroller gang marching up the hill all pushing the youngest members of “team Ezzy”. My heart was full in that moment seeing our friends laughing and doing something that required alot of effort and time to do, just for a little 3 year old.

My 10k was amazing. I ran, prayed, and soon found myself praying for the woman running next to me. I started to thank God for the sun he decided to hide after 2 weeks of 70+ weather. I thanked him for the light breeze that was enriched with salt water. I thanked him for the ease my body was running at and more importantly the strong breaths I was taking.

The next thing I did was completely out of norm for me. I started to talk with my new running partner. She shared with me her families story. I soon found out why her tender heart was drawn to Ezzy. We talked about challenges moms face, the hard part of making decisions, and having confidence to be advocates. It was easily established that we knew deep down that our children came to us for a reason. I was able to share my faith with her, telling her that I had to rely on the fact that God had hand picked Richard and I for a reason.

We may not have won the race, but at the end as we hugged each other I knew that what happened on the pavement was meant to minister to my heart.

Its hard to not feel alone, its hard when your child looks normal on the outside, because soon the daily battle you are called to fight becomes a silent one. The race had provided me a chance to share my heart, to be heard and to be validated that it is hard having a sick child, and to be reminded that God chose me because at the end of the day I maybe weary but am no way near giving up.

I am currently writing this while nap time is taking place on this cold Fall day…yeah…I said it. I watched the first leaf fall on saturday during a very typical fall storm. There will be no more races for “team ezzy” to run in, but I can’t believe how much we accomplished this summer. Even if it was just to tell our story to few people who asked about our shirts, to minister to my momma’s heart, or to make a few people wonder about this little girl who’s call in life is to glorify God in each achievement she makes!

Richard had asked me on our Arizona trip to renew our vows. At the time it wasn’t something that I had wanted to, mainly because I was pregnant with Kyrene and the thought of having to wear a dress while fat and bloated wasn’t appealing in the slightest way. So I told him yes, but asked if we could wait until I was no longer pregnant and preferably not nursing a baby either…yes, I took the romance out of the gesture with my ridiculous rules…

He honestly didn’t bring it up after that trip, I believe that I had crushed his spirit and had in some ways let him down. I wasn’t going to be the mature one either and bring it up, leave it to me to be the stubborn one. Since him asking me to renew our vows infront of our missed friends in AZ, two anniversaries have passed. I figured that our current anniversary was going to be the same as it has been in the past, dinner out, minus children thanks to Nana.

While on his recent trip to Anchorage…yes, that man seems to travel alot there, and its never a quick trip. He came home and asked if I was willing to renew our vows NOW, now as in less then 2 weeks away, actually 9 days to be exact. My immediate reaction was to say NO, I have absolutely no idea why either. But when I saw his sincere eyes and he gave me his reasoning why it was so important to do them this year I couldn’t say no, and my list of reason “why not to” soon dwindled into nothing.

Richard told me that all I had to do was say yes, wear a dress, and show up at 6pm. He had all the details worked out and was fine tuning the vision he had in mind.

This is the part that I had to struggle with my annoying self, the person that likes to have everything organized “just right” and likes to have a say. The days leading up to the renewal, Richard’s cell phone would ring and he would disappear out to the chicken coup or would be texting alot in the evenings (something he doesn’t do, since men, well men I am around, don’t text with their friends, like us women who have to be in constant communication).

The day came and I was tense, I at the time just thought it was in large part due to my CRANKY children who hadn’t napped in 2 days thanks to the amazing weather that caused their overly planned mom to throw out nap time. He had taken a 1/2 at work and told me not to expect to see him till his normal time off.

I had the difficult problem every woman has…the battle we face everytime we have an event to go to…I had NOTHING to wear. Even my sweet friend Kelsey let me rummage her summer dresses. I had tried on a few, but none of them worked. I had conceded to the fact I was just going to go in jeans and a nice shirt. I didn’t have time or money to go buy a dress last minute in this town, where a “nice” dress would be a price those of you in the lower 48 would die to pay.

I calmly got ready and saw the shirt he had picked and then remembered a dress I had scored while shopping in AZ on our recent trip. I put it on, grabbed my precious pearls Richard gave me and immediately felt I had won the battle!

I nervously played with my purse and chomped on my gum while driving to the location he deemed appropriate. When I arrived I was taken aback by the most beautiful sign…

Leave it to my friend/boss, Kristy, to pull off such thoughtful and rustic/romantic decor. The time and effort she puts into things makes you feel like the things you are passionate about are really just things that you kind of like. I have watched her time and time again at events we do, pull out beautiful handmade decor and realize she really did her homework, got to know her client, and strived to put their personality into the event.

Her beautiful handmade chandelier, it was gorgeous!

The beautiful center pieces, using the standard mason jars…every detail provided this feelings of intimacy
The precious detail that I am SO SAD I didn’t get a picture of, was the rows of logs my husband had drug around the beach to make seats for our support system to sit on during the ceremony. It looked the pews you would have seen in a small chapel and made my heart stir, not just because of the time and effort it took for him to do it, but because as I looked around at all the planning he had done, I realized that he really does know me, and more importantly knows my heart.

Cayden walked me down the isle, admitting to me he was really nervous, and I was handed off to my calm husband.

I hadn’t expected for him to give a sermon, but shouldn’t have been surprised because if you know Richard, you know he loves to talk. The words that came out of his mouth were sincere, thoughtful, humble, and most of all resembled a man that strives to be what God has called him to be. He explained to our friends/family why he felt it was so important for us to renew our vows now. How the man that made the vows 7 years ago said/did them out of a formality, but know understands the need to say them, concentrated under God, now that his soul truly understands what those vows mean.

My grandpa White, who was officiating the ceremony even stated that Richard had taken his scripture that he had planned to read over us, Ephesians 5. As he had us recite our vows to one another, I looked into the eyes of the man I have grown up with these last 13 years and realized that the man I had said “I do” to 7 years ago is no longer present. As we promised to love, honor, cherish, in sickness and health, for richer or poorer” I couldn’t hold back the calm that I tend to have when in stressful situations. I felt my warm tears run down my cheeks because as we said them together I was flooded with memories of times it hasn’t been easy to uphold them. There were times I wondered if we were going to become that statistic.

I came from a broken family and always expected him to leave me and built walls to protect me. It wasn’t until one of our fights shortly after having Kyre, that he grabbed me by the arms, while I struggled to get away from him and told me (well, possibly yelled at me to make sure my thick skull could hear him), “I am NOT ever going to leave you, I am not your dad, so stop treating me like I am”…ouch.

The last 7 years of marriage have had their ups and downs, I mean really, graduation college, starting our careers, pregnancies, moving to alaska, CF diagnosis, financial struggles, and most of all just trying to remain devoted to one another in a broken world that tells you when the going gets tough to get out.

I am not saying that we have found the “secret” to a happy marriage, cause honestly I don’t think there is one. But we have found the answer, found the reason to stay committed especially in the moments we want to say hurtful things or run away. We have found that by making God the center of our marriage, by turning to HIM and HIS word that we can clearly see hope.

7 years I have watched my husband grow into a man of God, one who desires no other will, but that of his maker. I have watched my husband work hard, in crappy jobs to make sure that bills are paid and food is on the table. He has loved and cared for us and NEVER once gripped about the countless responsibilities that come with a family.

I LOVE you Richard Harney, thank you for your sacrificial love, thank you for caring for us, and thank you for leaning on God to show you how to lead us.

There has been quite a division on social media sites lately centering on a topic that I have in the past not shared my view on. I really to be honest don’t think FB is the place to be plastering pictures, sayings, or rants on said topic. I get on facebook to unwind and honestly hope that someone has posted something funny about the joys of raising children, or a new picture of their adventures, or best when someone makes light of the crappy day they are having!

Well, I can’t really stay silent on this topic anymore, it has been brewing in my heart for over 25 months now when I had to take a stand personally. I guess you can say I am at a place that I can finally put into words what my heart and mouth was unable to do so when the situation was put out in the open with little or no regard, as if what was being stated wasn’t a HUGE decision to make.

I can’t forget the day, the room, the weather, or emotions that still feel like they were felt for the first time even though it was over 2 yrs ago…

I had gone in for a routine prenatal check-up with baby #3. The appointment was the first time I got to hear the heart beat. I don’t care if its your first or your 6th baby, nothing can replace the moment you hear that sound for the first time each pregnancy. Even though it was a sound that put my ever anxious heart to rest, it wasn’t able to stop the looming question surrounding this pregnancy. Each day, quite frankly almost each minute during the first few months of my pregnancy my mind was my own worst enemy. We had closed the door to more children, grieving, but made the decision because the thought of another sick baby scared us.

SO when we were faced with the reality God had a different plan for us, I found myself hiding, going into seclusion, and throwing myself a pity party. Even though we had some support who were over the moon for us it wasn’t enough to discount the negative responses and reactions people felt the need to share.

After my provider cleaned my belly off and put down the doppler, she had me sit up and get ready for the next part of the appointment. If you have had children you know this part is when they ask about any nagging symptoms or concerns. It can be a quick part or it can take a long time based on what your hormonal pregnancy mind is obsessing over.

It was just a normal appointment for me, didn’t really have any concerns, well not any I wanted to share with her. I already had my ENTIRE support group praying for me and this little life God had entrusted to us. Praying for health and for JOY, something that was robbed by every single fear the enemy knew to put in my head. I had started feeling baby#3 at 11 wks. Just little flutters, but after being pregnant two times prior, I was without a doubt sure it was baby moving and not gas 🙂

Just when I thought we were done, she then informed me that instead of getting my 19 wk ultrasound here in Ketchikan, that I was going to be sent to Swedish Medical Center in WA. Not only did my provider need a higher def machine to look over baby #3’s bowels, (to ensure no intestinal block was forming, like Ezzy’s) but I was also informed that I needed to get an amnio to find out if this baby had CF or not…what came out of her mouth next, literally makes my blood boil thinking of it now…

My provider informed me that it would take 3-4 weeks to get the result of the amnio but, “to not worry, that an exception will be made if you choose to terminate the pregnancy, even though you will be past 20 wks gestation”

It was one of those out of body experiences that you see on movies where the actor sees something happen that doesn’t really take place. Its like time went into slow motion and I could see myself leaping off the exam table in my hospital issued gown attacking her, hands around her neck, with a crazed look in my eyes, like ANY momma bear would do to a threat to her cub.

I know that my verbal response was cold, that she most likely felt the frost as the few words I was able to form flew over my snarling teeth, “um NO, we are having this baby NO MATTER WHAT this test tells us”

I came home to my husband tears in my eyes, unsure if they were tears of sorrow, anger, or hurt.

I couldn’t wrap my brain around what was dropped on me just a few minutes prior. If you were to ask me to sum up the first 1/2 of my pregnancy with baby #3, I would have said FEAR, but that never once made me wish away the little tiny life that I was watching grow before my eyes.

Baby #3 was already started to establish a wake and sleep routine. One that never failed to mess with my sleep and required frequent trips to the bathroom late at night. I loved waking in the morning because the position I was laying in for a few hours was apparently getting old for said baby. Most of all I can honestly say the only time there was ever a smile on my face the first 1/2 was when I would get a sudden kick or feel a rush a movements from the never ending need to practice stretching arms and legs while taking up the limited space my unusually small torso gave.

After seeing baby #3 on the high def ultrasound at Swedish the tears of fear and worry came spilling out, the last 15 wks of carrying a burden I was not intended to carry came flowing out of me like a boat that sprung a leak. Sweet baby Ezzy was sleeping away in the ergo on daddy’s chest and the radiology tech spent over 1.5 hrs looking at every single piece God was carefully nitting together in my womb. When we received the news that baby’s bowels looked great and that everything was normal, we left pieces of the burden we were carrying in the back room of the radiology dept.

We began to soon worry about the needle that was going to be placed in my body. Not to say we hadn’t worried for the last 3 wks leading up to the decision we were being forced to make to even get one. Sweet baby Kyre (who we didn’t know at the time was a girl) had decided to put on a show for the radiology tech during her anatomy check. She was twisting, stretching, rolling, and doing anything she could to not lay still. Pure terror was written all over our faces as we walked into the room where the massive (I am NOT joking) needle was waiting to tell us the future of the life God was insistent to give us.

Shortly after the doc put the ultrasound wand up to my belly we saw little tiny Kyre had rolled over on her side and was taking a snooze. We could see her shoulders and body move up and down with each breath she took. As I am trying to describe this picture to you, I am fighting tears while writing it out. Because I saw this little baby exemplify life in every way during her scan to then watch her minutes later curl up and take a deep nap to ensure she wouldn’t be harmed while a foreign object invaded her safe home. It was yet another way God was telling us to trust Him, to trust the plan, even down to the forced amnio taking place, that He was in every detail and to Him be the glory if we would just lay our burdens at His feet.

So you might have figured out why I am feeling the need to walk down memory lane. Monday it was ruled that the serial killer, Doctor Kermit Gosnell, has been found guilty of murder of babies, many around the age of Kyre when we got the ultrasound and amnio done. Some of you reading this might believe he was convicted of crimes he didn’t commit. Some of you might not have any stance on Pro-life or Pro-choice because you haven’t been personally faced with it. Some of you might stop reading my blogs because of what I am going to say…

All I know is that when I was told and “exception” would be made for me, “to not worry”, that “IT would be taken care of” that I got to realize my own heart. My desire to speak up for the ones who don’t have a voice yet. My heart aches for the little lives that were thrown away and taken by countless hands all over the world and discarded into the trash out back.

I think back to watching Kyre living her short stint as an acrobat in my womb at just 19 wks and can recall all the times I felt her sweet little feet push against my stomach, making me stop and have something to smile about even if I was terrified she was going to be sick like her sister.

Our CF director told us that CF is going to become an “old person’s disease” here down the road. Due the big push in prenatal testing, along with the unfathomable amount of lives not given a chance because the soon-to-be parents don’t want an imperfect child. That we will stop seeing more CFers being born because of a woman’s right to choose.

I will tell you this, that saying Yes to Kyre, saying Yes to GOD, saying YES to the unknown has been the best decision we have made. I can’t imagine life without this little ball of energy who showed off her personality to us at 19 wks and who couldn’t help showing off her acrobatic skills even after birth.

So my hope is that if you or someone you know is considering the decision that is legally every woman’s right, that you share mine and Kyre’s story. That you tell them it isn’t a choice between Pro-life of Pro-choice, but its a decision to just say YES. Yes to the little life that is growing and waiting to change every single thing you thought you knew.

So I think that most of you who live by us have noticed Kyre has a little bling on her ears?!? It was a decision my husband made and had to follow through with on his own. I couldn’t bear the thought of taking new, sweet, tiny Kyre to get her ears pierced. Countless times we were asked if Ezzy and Kyre were boys as infants, thanks to their lack of hair and ridiculous amount of chub…the worst was when we were asked “whats his name?” (obviously ignoring the fuzzy pink bunting they were wrapped up in). So when I said I was ok with earrings, Richard marched back in…to be honest almost sprinted with kyre safely snuggled in her carseat, leaving me and the older kids in the car.

There are many times I think back to the decision that was made to get her ears pierced and realize how girly Kyre is. Kyre can fully walk in princess heels through out our home, which is mainly hard wood floors.

She NEVER goes a day without wearing atleast one tutu, if not 3 at the same time. Most of all, she loves to get in a princess dress and head to the livingroom and dance in circles. If richard or cayden are home, she will run to them and grunt to get their attention and patiently wait for them to say how pretty she is.

We had regretted not getting earrings for Ezzy when she was a baby. To be honest Ezzy was 6 months old the first time we even brought her inside a store. I am aware that might sound strange, even if you grasp a little on the world of CF. We were scared, well I don’t know if there is a word that describes how terrified we were about taking her in public. It didn’t help she was born in flu, whooping cough, and RSV season. We literally lived within our 4 walls and only ventured as a complete family to the outside world on Sundays were we knew we could somewhat control our environment, thanks to our amazing church family. Since we couldn’t stomach bringing her somewhere where overly friendly strangers would possibly want to touch her precious chubby cheeks or worse a sick person cough on her, there was NO way we were going to let a stranger pierce her ears.

After getting Kyre’s ears pierced we were sure Ezzy would want to follow suit. Well leave it to Ezzy to defy what is expected of her. We would ask her almost each time we went to Walmart if she wanted her ears pierced. We even asked when we were in AZ, her answer never changed. Don’t get me wrong, we NEVER pushed her, we just would ask her if she wanted earrings and when she said no, we would say “ok” and move on.

I had to wait to get my ears pierced…it was something that I had begun to dream about after watching my older sister get hers done. The rule was that I had to be 12 yrs old. Interestingly enough my little sister got hers at 9 yrs old, but who is paying attention right? I get why I had to wait, we were raised in a strict southern Pentecostal upbringing, and were breaking the norm by even getting our ears pierced. Waiting is something I think Richard and I can’t comprehend with Ezzy.

Well last week when doing a quick errand that I believed didn’t warrant a need to make sure teeth were brushed, pj’s were no longer on, and hair was brushed, Ezzy decided to throw a wrench in my morning. After dropping off our flat tire to get fixed, we drove by walmart and Ezzy quickly said, “mommy me get my ears pierced?”. I asked her if she was really, really sure. While looking in the rear view mirror, I saw my 3 yr old’s eyes light up and fists went in the air, followed with, “YES!”.

So there I was walking in to Walmart, un-showered, still in my gym clothes and thinking about the hot shower I had planned on taking after my planned 15 minute errand. Kyre still in PJs and rocking a milk mustache. Ezzy with matted hair, boots on the wrong feet, but masked with amazing determination as she led the charge to the jewelry department.

I brought her over to the jewelry kiosk to pick out her earrings. When I pointed out all the different designs (flowers, pink hearts, gold hearts, gold balls, and diamonds), my 3 yr old, didn’t even hesitate. Her immediate response was “DIAMONDS”, at the top of her lungs with so much enthusiasm.

She climbed up on the seat, with help from me since her little legs weren’t quite long enough. She sat there quietly and had a smile that no one could take away, not even the two strangers getting ready to use the piercing gun on her ears.

She shed a few tears after the initial shock of getting pierced and quickly reached for me to hold her. As I kneeled down to hug her and wipe her tears, I told her that she was “so big!”. When she was handed a mirror to see the new bling on her ears, the tears quickly dried up and the pain was long forgotten. What us women will do for the price of beauty.

There is a fine line between giving your child everything they want…I am very much aware of it. To be honest its something that has been in the back of my mind. I want to make sure Ezzy has a chance to experience everything her heart desires, but also want to make sure I don’t raise a brat. There have many SO many heartbreaking deaths of young children in the CF community recently. When I say young I am talking about elementary and young high-school aged kids. It literally takes my breathe away and I have to go and hold her tight and look her in the eyes and ask her if she knows how much I love her. Its so hard to not let fear dictate how to parent a child who is told 30s is what to expect if we can keep her healthy. I don’t want to have a single regret, even more as I am reading of parents saying goodby before they had the chance to take them to Disney, get their ears pierced, or let them go to their first dance.

I am part of a CF mom group on FB and I saw a mom post that she had a limo pick up her daughter from school for her 13th bday. I dont think this was an overindulgence, I actually loved the idea. Because to be honest, I think part of the reason I struggle with planning Ezzy’s Bday parties each year is because in a way I grieve its one less year of her life expectancy. Never mind the difficulty in trying to plan a party and making sure everyone is healthy last minute. It got me thinking that I should try to celebrate each day I have with her, and not grieve that she is getting older, and to try not to be scared that it means less time for me to hold her, dream of her future that is being tainted by an ugly disease.

I love how my girls run and seek their daddy’s and brother’s approval when they get dressed up. In the beginning I worried that my girls would only find self worth in a man’s eyes, and never feel confident unless they were told they were beautiful by them. But then I watched how Cayden came running to Ezzy when she told him in a teasing voice she got her ears pierced. He ran so fast, bent down and got a huge smile and said, “wow Ez, you are really pretty”. The smile on her face melted my heart. To be honest its my favorite thing to do, to watch my men stop what they are doing and tell our growing princesses they are beautiful, especially when they are yielding a light saber, hiding behind a batman mask, while gracefully wearing a princess dress. My men turn into mush, and tell the girls just what their hearts need to hear, that they are beautiful no matter what they are wearing.

I am thankful that my girls are running to their Dad and Cayden…to be honest I hope that it continues until they leave our home and decide to spread their wings and make a mark for themselves in this world. I am thankful they have Godly men who are exemplifying what it means to be a man of God. I am even more thankful the bond my girls have with them, because these men love them unconditionally.

My prayer is that they will hold out and wait for their prince, the man of God that will fit nicely into our family and show us how God heard our countless prayers for them. The men that God is shaping to handle my sweet little princesses, the ones who already love diamonds, don’t go a day without a tutu, and most of all will hopefully not waste anytime on kissing a frog, because they have seen what a true prince or king looks like thanks to their dad and brother.

I knew this question was going to eventually come, I just hadn’t anticipated it would be so soon. Richard and I have fought the all encompassing WHY, when it comes to CF and Ezzy. I honestly thought we would have had more time to brain storm, talk to God more, or better yet research how to answer Ezzy when she needed to hear an answer.

Well last week during a much needed nap for a cranky teething little sister, Ezzy and I found ourselves with the rare opportunity to paint. I quickly pulled out construction paper, making sure her favorite color was selected. When she saw the paint brush come out of the bag, her eyes lit up and I soon found a giggling 3 yr old stripped of her clothing (without my suggestion). She requested each color of paint we own to be carefully placed in a small dollop, not touching the other colors…poor Richard has yet another rigid control freak to live with!

We quietly had worship music playing in the background and soon found ourselves absorbed in our creativity. There was no need for conversation in the beginning, we both were enjoying letting our minds wander. My deep thoughts were soon interrupted and I was caught off guard by the next few words that came out of Ezzy’s mouth…

“WHY do I have CF?”…there was no hurt, frustration, or any other negative emotion behind those 5 words. She didn’t look up at me, she kept on swirling her paint brush across her purple paper and wasn’t affected by the awkward silence I was suddenly all to aware of.

Once I was able to gather up the pieces of my own heart, the shattered pieces of the damage done by that one word I have asked over and over, I soon found myself relying on the receiver of all the WHYs that came from a grieving mother’s heart.

I put my paint brush down, pushed the canvas to the side and reached out for her arm. I felt my pulse pick up and I prayed that I would have the right words to say, so that her little 3 year old heart and mind would be able to move on past what she was asking me.

I told Ezzy that God thinks she is really tough! The the long scar across her belly that grows with her as she grows, shows just how tough she is. I also told her that God thinks that she is really special and that HE knows she will work really hard to fight CF. She was quiet, didn’t really say anything after my brief explanation. I then told her that God really really trusts her to trust HIM. She then looked up at me and said “ok mommy”, and looked back down at the abstract art she was doing for daddy’s work.

I couldn’t believe her demeanor…yes I know that she is just 3 and that she doesn’t go deep in her thoughts or worries herself over the processing of major questions in life. I realize that when kids ask questions to give them just enough of an answer that allows them to have that burning WHY sufficed. BUT, you see Ezzy told me out of the blue during our trip to AZ that, “I have God in my spirit”. There was no prompting of that statement, there was no Bible story that we had told her in the days leading up, she was just playing in the shower singing to herself and decided to share with me what was on her mind.

It’s not the first time Ezzy has made a statement to show us she grasps more about life with CF then we give her benefit.

Cayden has been pestering us for quite sometime about wanting another baby. I know…I feel for his future wife. That little boy just loves babies and to be more specific, sees the injustice of sleeping by himself, so he put in the request of not just any baby, but a brother. One day after his request being ignored by his worn out momma due to a teething baby, Ezzy piped up and said, “I don’t want another baby, I don’t want the baby to have CF”. I turned to Richard, looked into his eyes and saw the same broken spirit that I was being engulfed by. I felt the tears blurring my vision and got up and walked away.

Just a few nights ago Richard was saying prayers with the kids, thankfully I had evening plans, because I don’t know how I would have reacted to what Ezzy prayed. When we pray each night as a family, we all say what we are thankful for and what concerns we have. Ezzy generally thanks God for Nana, food to body, and mommy’s toe, ankle, or leg (thanks to my training schedule I have been hurt alot lately). When I came home from the baby shower Richard told me Ezzy thanked God that, “Cayden didn’t have CF”.

It’s painful to not have the answers, especially for me, because I find peace in the answers. Even if its not what I want to hear, at-least the WHY can high tail it out of here. When it comes to CF, I sure as heck don’t have a single answer. I’m not sure that what I told Ezzy was right. During my recent runs since she asked me, I have found myself burdened to pray for the people she will need in her life, people who will be able to speak truth and love when she is angry at the battle no child should ever have to fight. I am becoming all to aware that I need to be praying for her to never want to turn away from her maker, but instead run into HIS arms when the darkness is closing in.

I can’t get a song out of my head, NO MATTER what else I try to play. I don’t know if it’s God trying to tell me to hang tight or if its a song I need to introduce to our church for someone else to hear. But the first few lines of the song go like this:

“the why, the question that is never far away
but healing doesn’t come from the explained
Jesus please don’t let this go in vain
you’re all I have all that remains”

I know that “WHY” isn’t done haunting our family’s minds and hearts, but there is one sliver of hope that I am holding on to. It’s one that I have just been given after chewing on Ezzy’s recent realizations. It’s that her discerning heart is being molded and shaped, being prepared to handle the battle she is being called daily to armor up for while wearing pigtails, and learning her ABCs. Yes, its not fair, but I am seeing a mighty warrior, one that thankfully has “God in my spirit”

I am still in complete shock from saturday morning’s race. I had been preparing Cayden for weeks that the Sourdough Stampede was coming up. It was the very 1st race he had ever run last year…I know that kind of sounds silly saying…because he is only 5 and most kids probably can’t admit to a race completed unless it was mandated from their P.E. teacher. We had the idea to allow him to race last year when a friend was having her 5 yr old run. At first I was really nervous to have Cayden participate who was at the time just a few days past his 4th bday. Cayden was totally psyched to run and the enthusiasm soared when Richard had designed t-shirts for all of us that said “breathing for Ezzy”. Here is what took place last year at the sourdough stampede…

I had made the decision to run with Cayden, mainly because I was the only one brave enough out of Richard and myself to go and run a mile in absolutely no shape. Richard pushed the girls along in our jogger and would let Ezzy hop out from time to time. I remember during the race Cayden looking up at me and saying “come on mom, lets go”…slightly discouraging when a kid half your size is telling you that you are SLOW. He ran his little heart out and completed his 1st race in 12:23!! The very next thing he did, shocked me. He gladly received his lollypop and then took off back on the race route. I started to chase after him, trying to figure out what he was doing, I could honestly barely move, I was worn out. By the time I got close to him, he looked up and said, “mom, I have to go get Ezzy!!”. I then watched cayden find her with all the other kids who found the one mile just as hard as me. He reached out and grabbed her hand and told her, “good job Ezzy! isn’t this fun”. She was soon overwhelmed with all the people cheering at the finish line and turned to run to one of her parents. But he kept hold of her and told her that they had to finish together. I watched my 4 yr old boy become the biggest advocate in her life in those few seconds. He cheered her on, saw that she was scared and said just the right words to get her across the finish line.

I was hesitant to throw out the race this year to Ezzy. She hates big crows, any attention drawn to her by people outside our small support group, but most of all hates to do something that YOU might think is a good idea. Obstinance pulses through her veins at in an unmeasurable amount. I knew that Cayden being the high achieving 1st born would be thrilled to get out and run the 1st race of the year. But didn’t want to even mention it to Ezzy.

One day during cayden and I’s conversation regarding running, Ezzy piped up and said, “I want to run with Cayden”. I explained to her that this year daddy wouldn’t be there to push her in the jogger, due to flying home from a business trip in the middle of the race. I told her that if she wanted to do it then she would have to run/walk the whole way, that I couldn’t carry her. I had injured my ankle the week prior and was already concerned about running the mile with Cayden and then doing the 5k immediately after.

Well, her mind was made up, (thankfully I didn’t mention it or she never would have had any desire to participate). She told me she wanted to have “strong lungs and no gunkies in my lungs”, “like mommy”. She has asked me alot during my training for the 1/2 marathon coming up in a few weeks, why I run. I have always told her that I want “strong lungs and to get the gunk out of my lungs”, it was the only way I could describe to her the importance of the choice I made less then a year ago. The choice I made to be an example of health rather then an imitator, for a child that needed an example.

We headed out to Walmart a few days before the race to find her some running shoes. Every woman’s dream that is apparently innate was written all over her face. She ran and hugged shoes and said “I LOVE these shoes”. She had to try on every single shoe, including dress shoes until she had to make the painstaking miserable decision EVERY woman hates…to just pick one pair. When that decision was made she turned to the aisle of shoes with some remorse or regret over the shoes she finally decided on, the ones that were quickly thrown into the cart before myself, cayden, or Kyre had a meltdown after the time spent down said aisle.

With the help of her new running shoes and some incentive from her brother, Ezzy soon decided to put on her running shoes every day and run up and down our hallway until she was out of breath. I would see this little blob, with crazy curls bouncing in every direction zoom by. When I caught a few glimpses of her face, there was a huge smile placed from cheek to cheek, followed by a very focused and determined look. One that I am told melts daddy’s heart because all he can see is me when she has that look.

The day of the race came, Ezzy and Cayden could not contain their excitement. I don’t know if they were more excited about going and eating pancakes at some random place or the fact I promised they could have my “running” cereal before leaving. They call my cereal that name, because its super expensive high protein cereal that I started eating when I started running, and I don’t SHARE!

The got dressed in their CF shirts and followed me around the house, asking every few seconds if it was time to go yet…I eventually threw them in the car because I really wanted to get dressed without 6 eyes staring at me.

We were blessed to have Cayden’s teacher join us, and she ran with Cayden so that I could run with Ezzy who definitely wouldn’t be able to keep up with brother. My mom also offered to push Kyre in the jogger on the off chance Ezzy couldn’t do it. She just got over a long month of antibiotics and horrible cough just 2 weeks ago, and I was worried that running in the cold morning air was going to hurt.

Cayden and Ms. Kendra took off when the race started. I was SO thankful in that moment that God provided someone for him to run with so that he could reach his goal of beating his time last year 🙂 I wonder where he gets that from…

Ezzy ran her little heart out, we passed a few older kids just before the .5 mile turn around and I couldn’t believe that my little 3 yr old was holding her own!!! Shortly after the turn around she reached her wall and started to cry, she had lost sight of her fast brother and didn’t see a point in going on. I reminded her that Nana and Kyre were waiting for us, with hopes of seeing Nana, she walked for a few seconds and picked her pace up. Nana and sweet Kyre (who had been holding her hand out for all the runners to slap on their way past) were soon within our sights. We were just a little over .25 miles away from the finish line and soon faced with a child that had NO desire to finish. Nana had the great idea to tell Ezzy to race Kyre. My mom, who isn’t a runner, soon found herself running and pushing the jogger. There we were grandmother, mother, and little sister, giving our all to see our Ezzy cross the finish line. This memory is one that I hope to never loose. With giggles and beaming faces we were able to push through a little more. Less then 200 meters away Ezzy then again started to tear up and said she needed to spit. She was not joking, she spit out a huge glob of gunk, I was SO stinking excited when she did this. I have heard from countless adult CFers who care about their health, that running is one of the best ways they clear their lungs!!!

I got down on my knees and wiped away the tears she had and told her that we could walk, we didn’t have to run. But that daddy was waiting for us at the finish line. I asked her to wipe her tears and run, that sometimes running is hard, and mommy wants to cry during some runs, truthfully. She perked up and immediately had a new drive to finish. When daddy was within sight, he came running up to her and grabbed her hand. Cayden was there waiting as well and we soon crossed the finish line, hand in hand, as a family.

I am certain that most people won’t understand that reliving this precious day is one that is going to bring tears to our eyes for awhile. I fought tears welling up inside when I saw her smiling and running as fast as she could. I fight tears when I think about the races down the road that she will have to opt out of because of something that is fighting to take her breath away. But for now, the tears that are present, are tears of JOY, tears of hope, and tears that God has allowed us to have, because HE knows that we will do everything in our power to help Ezzy run to LIVE.