“Is your prince coming home momma?”
“Uh…what…”
“Is YOUR prince coming home?”
“Kyre…um…oh…do you mean daddy?”
“YES! Daddy”

Folks, I am a little sad that my next reaction was to immediately correct her and tell her he wasn’t my prince. I never lived in fairytale land, I am quite sure that my mom never worried that I would buy into the unrealistic Prince Charming dream. Black and white, coloring in not out of the lines, yes and no answers, that my friends is MY world.

In just a matter of seconds, my over analyzed mouth could crush the heart of a little 4 yr old’s world view. I remember sitting across from her at the table, taking that breath to speak and then feeling the weight on my chest and an immediate need to close my mouth.

If you have read past blogs, talked to me at a play date or a setting that would allow for us to share our life stories, you most likely have heard about Kyre’s story. You heard about the miracle that came from two scared wounded young parents still grieving the diagnosis of their second baby. Those two individuals laid aside all the dreams of a loud big family and decided to get on with life. Precautions, medicine, you name it, were taken. Somehow, wait, not somehow, I don’t want to belittle the awe of Kyre’s story, God took all the actions we did and threw them away. I can’t help but smile now as I think back to all the emotions that hit me the morning I found out she was growing inside of me.

Kyrene Grace Harney took her first breaths on November 12, 2011. It snowed shortly before we left the hospital with her, the first snowfall of the season. Again, another sign for those broken parents that God was in all the details. He knew we had promised the 2 and 4 yr old their new baby would arrive when it snowed. I remember looking out the windows on the gloomy day, packing up the bags with the whitest little baby I had grew and seeing the BIG flakes fall…

There is something about Kyre that I believe is hidden deep within her. You won’t get to see it or better yet experience it on a regular basis. There is a response her soul gives to the Lord, that will stop you when you experience it. It will bring me to my knees in the moments I am at my wits end with her big messy emotions. It can be uncomfortable, it can be humbling, it can be joyful…when you witness what God created her for, why he was so persistent to bring her into the world it can give you goosebumps.
I will hands down be the first to admit that I know I can be a one tasked brain type of person. When I focus on something, I give it my all, in 100%. It can unfortunately make me not very approachable. I am at the height of this when I am out doing errands with my kids. If I don’t focus on them and the job at hand I will forget something. I have 4 different people, with 4 different needs, questions, and distractions testing my ability to multitask.

One day while running errands with the kids, they threw a curve ball in and asked to go and get drinks from McDonald’s. It was a hot day, we had walked from our house to the grocery store, paid our electricity bill, when to the toy store and the Golden Arches caught their eyes. I detest McDonald’s, everything about them, except their sweet tea 1/2 cut. I said no, heard their mutiny and then backed down. It WAS hot, I WAS thirsty and even though dad’s work was just a 6 minute walk away with free water, I figured we could get a treat. While standing in line, I saw a person who I have known most of my life, joys of living on an island. You can’t go anywhere without knowing someone. Her life had changed, she was walking through some pretty big pain, it was safe to say that grief was her constant companion. As we exchanged pleasantries, I felt a little hand tap my arm and a little voice say “momma…momma”. Many of my mom friends would admit this can make the hairs on our necks stand, when those words are repeated over and over with a tap on the arm while trying to talk to another human being. I felt my blood boil, she wasn’t dying or bleeding, couldn’t she just wait. I looked down, giving her the look “this better be important”. Her little eyes, messy hair from the day spent outside, too many freckles on her checks to count from all the sunshine, all of that yielded my heart. I didn’t know what she wanted, but something made me give her my 100% focus. “Momma, can I hug her?” (gentle whisper). Kyre knew this woman needed some tenderness. I quickly nodded and soon saw my 4 yr old hug the hurting woman with every ounce of strength her little body could give. She hugged the woman like you would expect to see after two people who shared a deep connection were reunited after a long absence. But here is the clincher, she didn’t know this woman at all.

This is the perfect example of the deepest level of Kyrene Grace’s heart.
Even though our Gracie can love in a way that makes adults see how jaded they have become, like any Ying to a Yang, she does have another side to her…

We finished our parent teacher conferences with the older two, happy to hear our kids were being who we knew them to be, as we turned to walk down the stairs to Kyre’s conf I quickly asked my hubby “well are you ready?” We are very aware of the challenging parts of Kyre’s temperament. When we sat down with her teacher, we asked how she was doing. “Fine” was the response, but we knew that was not the whole story. We quickly said “don’t hold back, we can handle it, put it all out there”. Her teacher chuckled and said “well…”

Little Miss Gracie Poo, loves to be first…in EVERYTHING that she does. She runs to the lineup at the door just to secure her desired slot. She watches the teachers like a hawk at recess, as soon as she sees one of them head to the door, in no time, they will find her at the front of the line, even if she was the farthest away. Kyre runs everywhere she goes, she is the reason why her teachers have to use the term “walking feet”. To top it off my little firecracker has no problem expressing her dislike when they switch the order of the line, when the front becomes the caboose. Even though we heard the parts of her that still need work, we were assured that Kyre has been chosen to be the buddy for some of the younger ones in the class or the kids that need a patient play buddy. I will take hearing she is patient anyday and not get hung up on the fact that her competitive streak is more then her little 40 lb body can contain.

When I think about the world that Kyrene is living in, the world that she is growing up in, I am confident in her. I know most parents think their children are just stellar, but guys, I see and hear God tell me in my moments of frustration with her high intensity outbursts, “You need her, I need her, that is why I made her when you were doing everything to not have another baby”. He never fails to press on my heart that she is special, his desire and love for her outweighed the choice two grieving parents made, without ever asking his guidance in their decision.  Because of her life, it paved the way for Ya’el and Veil, two more souls this family needed for healing.

Her tears are met by her 2 yr old sister who wraps her in a tight hug, her screams of anguish that make her brother drop everything and come running, just to find out a spider is in the doorway gives a reason to laugh. Her imaginary world she creates, draws black and white Ezzy in and shows us she is a little girl that believes in princes, unicorns, and fairies. Her little made up songs will stop of fussy baby before the cries become frantic.
Kyre’s soul is the echo to a fragile heart. Her discernment I have learned to listen too. If she sees a hurting soul, she knows she no longer has to ask, she just goes and hugs them…yes…she has done it to a stranger. I had to delicately tell her that she can only do that if mommy is close by. I witnessed her call a bird to her finger during a walk around the lake. It was straight out of a Disney movie scene, she sang a little tune, bent down, stuck her finger out, and the freaking bird hopped straight to her, no fear being shown. It was insane to witness, but yet again I heard God say “you need her, I need her, this hurting world needs her”.
Kyrene Grace Harney, as I write this birthday blog, I just felt goosebumps again. The hurting world needs you, wow, do you know that? It needs your fire, it needs your deep love, it needs your eyes that see pain and instead of looking away you RUN straight toward it. You were planted in our Abba Father’s heart, before your soul formed inside my womb. My child, may God keep convicting my heart when I am overcome with your strength, may He show me that He gave you it so that you won’t crumble when adversity comes your way, instead you will rise up and keep pressing in. Gracie, I pray I won’t stand in your way when it is time to hug you and say goodbye as you venture away from our home and serve the hurting world. Gracie, shine bright, keep giving compassion to those who need it but can’t voice it, be first in line to help a person in need, run towards the hurting, most of all see and believe how treasured you are, our Heavenly Father made you to bring healing to this hurting land.
Happy birthday my favorite 5 yr old

For quite sometime I have been mulling over this blog. I was trying to come up with some catchy title, give you the “top 5 things” I have learned since having 5 kids or the “top 5 changes” I have experienced since the birth of Veil Eden. Each time I came up with the list, it would crumble. Either in the form of my brain unable to complete the last few points to make a solid 5 or better yet my personal life would be in shambles.

To say I entered into the postpartum period of life with Veil naively doesn’t quite scratch the surface. I had told myself “eh, this will be easy”. I had told myself, “God broke you quite a bit with the number 4, what more can you learn Sarah?”…that should have been my first indicator that I was getting ready for some shaking. Please don’t think I was being a brat about feeling like I had all my duckies in a row. I wasn’t taking those duckies and parading them for all to see and wanting accolades. I just felt like I had put the time in, emotionally, physically and mentally to handle the change of adding another soul. The ease of adding our 4th into the mix lead me to believe that bringing Veil into this managed chaos would not break me. I believed I was going to come out the other side unscathed because God had been breaking me and remaking me so intensely the last 8 years of parenting that I thought I was “done”…yeah…are you reading this thinking “how on earth could she think that?”

Richard recently approached me telling me of an opportunity to serve in the community in a political role. His dream to see me as a the future state representative is always playing in the back of his mind. He has already secured a campaign manager and the two of them are ready to pull the plug once I give them just a hint of my desire to finally run. As he was sitting across me, telling me all the role would entail, I felt it. That ground that I had been clinging to, picking myself up and dusting myself off, jumping like a cricket on it to avoid the massive cracks…it began to shake and my eyes and ears began to gloss over and close as he spoke to me. Once he finished, once I realized that he was staring at me in the silence, waiting for my response, I found my voice crack, the tears trying to squeeze up between my eyeballs and lids, my words spilled out. “Richard, I can’t” “I am barely making it day to day” “I reach this level (hand above my head) every single day” “I feel like a failure” “stop asking me to be what I can’t” “I can’t even handle the jobs I have now”…

Fighting the urge he faces constantly to fix me, he looked at me and said firmly, yet with compassion “ok, thank you for telling me”

The conversation had no follow up, there was no prelude to a big “ah ha” moment of finding some secret power tucked in a forgotten box, that would allow me to put my superwoman cape on. It started and ended with no expectation of more discussion in the future.

Folks, it was painful for me to say those words. To honestly list all the “I can’ts”. Even though he is the one I have grown up with the last 16 yrs and he has seen me at my highest and lowest. I still fought the urge to be so transparent to him, to finally say out loud what I heard shouting in my ears daily for the last month or so, “I am not enough”

I have had some short but powerful conversations with some ladies since I became a mother of 5. I think it’s common nature for us to always ask a new mom how she is, we ask if she is getting enough sleep, how she is adapting, maybe even we offer some help, either way, we always ask how she is, but rarely are in a place to hear and receive the truth, esp if the truth is “I am drowning”.

One mother told me she appreciated me, as she fought tears, sharing a recent “I am the worst mom ever” moment with me. She recalled a time I stood in front of our church body during my mini sermon between worship songs. I had shared a struggle with raising a strong willed child, I shared I was human and made mistakes, I shared how God was teaching me a critical lesson. I knew what moment she was talking about. I knew, because that Sunday was a hard Sunday for me. I fought, wrestled and asked God why he was asking me to stand in front of our church body and wave a big sign saying “I am not perfect!!!!”. Laugh please do, because as I just wrote that sentence I laughed.

I don’t think I struggle with being honest. I tend to run quickly into the deep conversations, I seek out souls that want to get to the bottom of things rather then live on the comfortable surface. But if I am honest right here and now, I don’t like being transparent or vulnerable with anyone unless I have figured out or come out the other side of the situation alive. I am great at sharing hard things, once I have analyzed it, wrapped it in a neat little box and filed it away for when I am ready to share a teaching moment with someone.

After the mom and I talked a little more, she thanked me, told me to keep sharing those moments because she said a massive weight was lifted from her that morning. The “perfect” mom, worship leader and woman she had measured herself too, no longer made her feel like she wasn’t “enough”.

When you see me Sunday mornings, freshly manicured, straightened hair, makeup, alert eyes, smiling, ready to serve the body of Christ. Please know I am just as broken as the next human being. I had to get up at 6 am in order to walk out the door at 8:15, to be ready for worship practice. I had to wake up before my kids and husband to ensure I would get ample time to make myself look the way I think I am suppose to look. I realize now that my need to look perfect, to hide my flaws that scream at me daily, sometimes minute by minute, has harmed others. Momma’s I am sorry!

When another mom asked me how I was (after I showed up flustered to an event), I in a moment of weakness answered her honestly, her quick response was like salve to a wound. You know what she said?!? “That is really relieving to hear”…”you struggling, makes me feel like it’s ok to struggle myself”…

Why do we do this? Why do we hide behind the masks that we think people want to see? In reality people need us to be honest, to admit from time to time we are struggling.

Most recently the “oh crap”, came knocking at my door. The dust had settled and I am still amazed it didn’t come sooner. I found myself spinning like a top. My heart was racing, it felt as though my vision was blurred as well. My heart was pounding so loud that I wanted to plug my ears. I couldn’t catch my breath and I was so worked up that not even a good cry could fix this.

The loads and loads of laundry were screaming at me, the pile of dirty dishes were taunting me, the remnants of getting kids and a hubby out the door for school and work were left for me to tackle in what seemed a doomed amount. I had someone waiting on me to go and have some fun and yet I was standing in my dinning room yelling at God. He says “call out to me, all who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest”. Yet there I was exhausted, tired, so tired that not even a dream situation of getting a nap could fix me. I was so tired that even my cells in my body were saying “we can’t regenerate, there is no fuel left”.

I found myself responding to him when he said “I am right here, I will help you”. With a snarky response “oh yeah, you are going to jump off that throne and start folding the laundry, clean my dirty base boards and sticky walls, you are going to sweep the dust bunnies off my stairs, you are going to come and clean the toys up…you’re going to…uh huh…”

It got silent, like really silent. I hear God speak, in many different ways. He can speak loudly, gently, he can whisper at times, he can speak through a song, through his word, through a friend, he can speak in many ways. What matters is, am I willing to listen.

After my grade A fit that I threw, I wish I could tell you that he came rushing in and fixed and answered all the aching I was facing.

But he didn’t

It wasn’t until the next day as I cleaned the kitchen I didn’t have any capacity to clean the day before that I heard him respond to me as I was crying inside. I was crying inside and saying “I am not enough Lord, I am not enough to be the mother you are asking me to be, I am not enough to be the wife Richard needs, I am not enough to lead your people into worship, I am not enough to be the friend others are needing”…”why Lord?”…

As I scraped the food goo off my black marble counters he spoke clear as day, just as a loving father does when their child is crying and needs love. You know what he said? “Sarah, I have you right where you need to be”
“You can’t be enough…

I have spent my teens, early adulthood and even more so now in my early 30s trying to reach, control and shape my environment and image that would reflect that I have it together and don’t need help. Accepting help would be a sign of weakness, a sign that I couldn’t handle things.

I have lived in fear that I would be discovered, that I someone would see the real me and choose that I was not worthy. Worthy is a word I struggle with more than anything.. I am not worthy of God’s grace, I am not worthy of my Ephesians 5 husband and I sure am not worthy to raise 5 little souls…

After hearing that simple answer, how I can’t be enough, how I am right where God wants me I have been trying to take my environment in. Trying to swallow the humility he is asking me to walk in honor with, attempting to drop the act and let my vulnerability define me instead of the list of things I am not meant to perfect on this earth.

I am tired, bone tired. My little man took a picture of me on the couch, I had fallen asleep holding Veil at 7:30. This was an odd site,my son knew this was a moment to capture. He told me “he just had too”. I was unable to keep my eyes open and I cringed when I saw what I really looked like. This is my reality of this hard season of motherhood. Still rocking a maternity shirt, left over pregnancy acne on my cheeks, double chin from the extra pregnancy pounds my body will hold onto for what will feel like forever. There was no fancy filter to edit this picture, this is me.
I many times debate on if it’s worth it to change my shirt after being spit up on because it will add to the laundry pile. I have sticky walls, crusty table, toothpaste covered bathroom sink, dishes on the counter, floors that could use a heavy scrub, piles of organized crap and I don’t foresee this season ending anytime soon. Little Veil Eden is 8 wks old and I am having to release my grip on my unrealistic expectations I have put on myself and face the reality that I am not enough.

Remember when I said God told me he had me right where I am suppose to be? The place where I am suppose to be is a place that sees I was never asked to be enough. He created me to need him, to rely on him, to place aside pride and be real. He is asking me to be real, to remove the mask and maybe somehow help someone else stop spinning out of control.

So if you ask me “how I am doing” this is your fair warning, I am going to get real with you and be honest and tell you “I am not enough, and that is ok, cause God has me right where he needs me”

Today is Veil Eden’s due date and yet I have been privileged to rock her in my arms for the last 2 weeks, breathing that newborn smell in and quite honestly having to tell myself it is real, she is really in my arms and not inside of my body…I have asked myself a couple times if I cherished the gift of pregnancy. In the moments that I am trying to keep my eyes open during a middle of the night feeding or when I quickly grab her from the swing because my soul longs to be reunited with the soul I grew inside of me for 38 wks. It seems like her pregnancy went at an unreal pace and yet I know the line of insanity I was walking the last few wks of her pregnancy feeling as though it was never going to end.Early in this pregnancy, before we knew what we were going to have, I found myself lying in bed one morning, sicker than anything, waiting for my family to wake, I was praying, laying my heavy heart at my Abba Father’s feet. I was grieving again. It wasn’t the pregnancy hormones, it was something I was facing and desperately wished my mentor was still here on this earth so we could figure out the necessary steps to get through it. I have heard charismatic evangelical Christians talk openly and sometimes flippantly about visions or dreams the Lord has given them and YES, have rolled my eyes at them. I am too black and white to handle that much gray people. But I also have to admit that I have in fact experienced the Lord speaking to me through a dream 2x in my life…the events that I was forewarned about in the dreams came to life and as I went through them I felt my spirit check itself as it experienced déjà vu.

That morning, as the warm tears streamed down my face onto my pillow, as my body tried to conceal the rocking of the bed to wake Richard, I found myself receiving a vision of something that I know was divinely delivered to my breaking heart.

The questions, the hurt that I was asking God to reveal himself in was met with the most peaceful image I have seen to this day.

I didn’t even question if it was true, instead the heaviness that was pressing my heart, feeling as though I couldn’t get up, was lifted as I accepted what the Lord told me.

After getting showered and dressed that morning I kept hearing the word “Veil”. What a strange word to hear, I know. Yet when I digested what I had seen that morning it began to make sense. I shared with Richard the name that was on my heart and told him it would be a great contender for a girl’s name. Deep inside as I said the name out loud I realized there was no chance that the life tenderly being knitted inside of me was a boy, even though my men desperately were wishing for a boy.

Some have asked why Veil Eden? As we have gotten out a few times in the community this last week we have ran into people who don’t attend our church and they have asked why or made comments like “wow, that is a strong or interesting name”. If you attend our church then you most likely heard my pastor explain the meaning behind her name. I had someone recently tell me that when he was sharing with the congregation her name, they had goosebumps and it was evident to them the big plans that God has for our sweet #5.

Veil comes from the Old Testament. In Exodus 34 where Moses veiled his face after being in the presence of the most high Lord almighty. He covered/veiled his face because he didn’t want them to see the glory fading as it did, but also because it kind of freaked the Israelites out when some of them saw his face shining. Moses was in the presence of the most high because he was talking with the Lord, learning a new law for God’s chosen people to follow, laws that would help them separate themselves from the rest, set them apart, and consecrate them to him. The laws were good, they were perfect, and they brought his people to communion with their maker when they followed them with sincere hearts. But as human’s do, they messed it up along the way. It became all about burnt offerings, sacrifices, things that could be done without reverence and no longer about hearts being purified.

Fast forward to years and years and years later and we have the Son of God on the earth, God incarnate, coming and telling mankind that he didn’t come to abolish the law but instead fulfill every detail (Matthew 5:17,18)

One of the most powerful, earth shattering images, event that shaped my heart of worship was when I finally understood the significance of the Veil being torn in the Holy of Holies (a place only a high priest could enter) when Christ was crucified (Matthew 27:51). I recall teaching on this topic in church a few years ago when I introduced the song “shekinah glory”. This event is how we are promised redemption, reconciliation and more importantly a new covenant that was given to us. No longer are we separated from God, no longer are we forever banished from the garden of Eden (Heaven), no longer does Man have to go to God for us, we can go to God FREELY and we now have the promise of entering our eternal rest because of Christ’s sacrifice. He is now our High Priest, he now advocates for us and made a way for us to be made right in God’s eyes.

Whew…did you know you were signing up for a mini sermon when you clicked on this link?!? Sorry, one of my giftings is teaching, if you attend church with me, you would be shaking your head right now, knowing I can’t help but do it each worship service I lead…

I feel like I would be doing a disservice to you all if I didn’t take a little time to explain why this little soul has been given the name she has.

Back to that vision I was given, I knew when it was confirmed it was a little girl growing inside of me that it would be what I painted on her belly cast. As I have done with all my other babies, thank you Jonny and Frances for encouraging me to start the tradition 8 yrs ago, I decided the vision would leave my mind and heart and find itself on the form that reminded me of this precious baby girl.

After finally feeling like I had the clarity and strength to paint the cast, I set up my art station and got to work last night on it. The hubby was busy dealing with Mr. bear and our hanging salmon in the smoke house and Veil Eden was wrapped up in her favorite purple blanket while I got lost in my thoughts.

All of a sudden I was smack dab in my bedroom, the night I received the call that my mentor had gained his inheritance and no longer was here on earth. I remember hearing the other person on the phone fight to get the words out in-between the heavy sobs of grief. I remember reaching out for the stacked tubs against the wall waiting for me to go through the next size of clothes baby Ya’el needed, I had caught myself, my knees had buckled and the ground beneath me felt as though it was fading. The colors, the soft carpet under my toes, the black night sky that caught my eyes fighting the tears…all that…it was as though I was going through it all over again.Ezzy, my little artist who is going to go places with her crazy talent analyzed my belly cast this morning. Her first question, “why is there a lion and a lamb laying by each other? Lions eat lambs”.“Because they are in the garden of Eden, Ez” (daddy). Her eyes scanned over to the other side of the tree and without missing a beat she said, “oh, and there is Ken”.

Yes baby girl, there is Ken.

Dear Ken,

It has been 1 year and 5 months since we last spoke. How quickly that time has passed it seems as I pair them against the fact that you haven’t been in my life and my family’s lives since then. If you were still here, that wouldn’t even be a possibility, being present, being involved in our day to day things was something that you ran into, something a lot of people get overwhelmed in.

Can I tell you that you rarely are a fading thought in my heart, because you loved my family and strove to be part of it, there are too many parts of my day that bring your lack of presence in the forefront. I still struggle when people talk about you, when your name is mentioned by a church go-er, when I see a picture of you on fb as people from time to time share their grief with the rest of us. You are not forgotten, instead your absence only drives me farther into God’s open arms as I see how the promise you are living out is my promise too.

So that taxidermy thing that you told me Richard would get tired of and I just had to “wait it out”, I would like to tell you that you were wrong my friend. Richard has now started his own business, has clients and find myself telling him, please don’t’ show me the early stages of projects, only when they are nicely tanned and no longer smell like death. The business, its real, he has a shop set up in our basement, business cards made and new clients calling his phone…it’s crazy…

My little man, the one that you told me caught the bug, well you were right this time. Cayden has decided to forgo sports this fall in hopes to run an efficient trap line and work on building his savings account. He loves God’s handiwork, he would live outside if I let him and most of all he is more Alaskan than most little boys his age. How I wish you could have sat across him as he explained to your son how to set and pull a halibut skate, all with telling him specifically where to go and set it.

Ezzy, well, she had a rough spring, it was touch and go. I know had you been here, you would have been praying over her, you would have arranged for pillars in our church to come and lay hands and anoint her with oil. You would have challenged me to keep the faith, to not get lost in the what ifs. You would have smiled through the corner of your mouth when she surprised us all and beat the odds when she avoided a hospitalization after having a lung exasperation.  

Kyrene, the one who’s fire put a smile on your face as we dealt with her nonstop outburst…she hasn’t changed. I know that you would find comfort in the fact we haven’t broken her spirit. We call her squirt from time to time, mainly because we don’t want her to lose a piece of who you saw her to be.

Ya’el, it makes me sad you don’t know her. She goes over and sits with your family in church, as if she knows they are her family too. She is fun, like really fun. She is like her daddy, but she is also so incredibly sweet. Her big brown eyes and chubby cheeks, they are her secret weapon. I know you would love her quick wit and how she feeds off of other people.

Veil Eden, her name, it’s in honor of you, honor of the God you are in the midst of. When I was at one of my weakest moments of doubting God’s faithfulness, he showed me you, he showed you in the garden, and he showed me that he had you right where you are supposed to be. Does it make it hurt less that I know where you are? I don’t know, it seems to change with each day and honestly the more I spend time in his word, seeing the weak spots of my Faith.

Ken, I look forward to sitting under that tree with you one day. Having you bring me to the King, worshipping in his throne room with you and all the other saints, meeting the babies I lost before I met them, knowing you have found them and have told them all about the family they have here on earth. My brother, you are missed and loved dearly by my family, may we find ways to carry on your legacy and not be ashamed of the Gospel that you so fiercely fought to share with everyone

You know how memories, they can change over time, little details might get mixed up, fade or worse disappear? I recently took the Baum test as a fun little exercise in my bible study group. One of the things revealed, no surprise to me is how important detail is and how the “past influences everyday life” for me. I knew very soon after delivering Veil Eden that I would again write out the events surrounding her birthday because I have cherished reading the blog I wrote in honor of Ya’el’s birthday and wish I had the forethought to do the same with my older kids. One other aspect of her birth that was incredibly important to me was the opportunity to have my dear friend come and photograph her birth. Even though this blog is really for me, my husband, and Veil I am excited to share her story with you. Why? Because it can’t be said that God didn’t have his hand on every step, no detail was left unattended and we are still left in amazement at how perfect everything went. Some of you may have seen the birth photos that my friend shared, but I want to share the photos that my heart recalls, I love seeing the photos she picked, because that was her view and wasn’t it pretty incredible?!? So here is mine…

August 19th, I was woken up with an intense contraction, I quickly went to the restroom, fully believing it was a fluke and attempted to go back to bed. 15 minutes later I found myself with another intense contraction and had to breathe my way through it. I recall debating on turning off my alarm for the gym, thinking it might be best to wait it out and see what my body was going to do. Being my typical self I went against that thought and found myself having 2 more contractions, 10-15 minutes apart. The alarm went off and I slowly climbed out of bed and dressed for the gym.

Upon arriving at the gym a frequent attendee talked to me and watched me climb on the treadmill, I saw her eyes analyze me and looking back realize that she might have noticed I was not my normal self. First of all, she never talks to me and this morning she did, asking me how I was doing. Within a few minutes I realized I couldn’t do my normal workout, I would have to forgo lifting weights and cut my treadmill workout short. I had $5 Friday to get to at Safeway and needed to stock up on some necessities if this labor thing was really going to happen. I ran into a friend at the store and we briefly chatted and she had some encouraging words for my heart and a desire to pray that my labor would continue on.

7:30 am: The hubby had breakfast going by the time I got home and after watching me try to eat my food, carry on a conversation that was interrupted by my focused breathing, he quickly realized that timing my “I’m ok, I am sure it’s just Braxton hicks” was at the top of his priority list. I sent him on his way, told him that I would call him if the contractions picked up and headed to the shower, knowing that I had timed and watched my body go from 10-15 mins apart to now 5 minutes apart. I turned on my worship music, quieted my anxious heart and mind and focused on breathing. I felt utterly spent and unable to do much of anything. I opened the front door and encouraged the kids to play in the warm sunshine while I labored on the couch. I think Cayden was aware something was going on, he sat close by me and tried to hold Ya’el in his arms, even though the only place she wanted to be was tucked into mine.

10:30 am: I knew it was time, there was no more holding off calling my husband and mom, I sent a quick text to my friend to get her camera gear ready and waited for Richard to show up. I no longer could sit comfortably and found the most comfortable place to be was at the foot of my bed, swaying as the contractions went from lasting 20 secs to 45 secs. Richard arrived a nervous ball of energy and we soon left 4 little kids, wide-eyed and emotional needy with my mom, sorry mom, they were not prepared for seeing me in pain.

I didn’t want to get my hopes up, I kept telling myself, “you are going to show up and they are going to say that you aren’t in labor”. I hesitantly walked into the OB ward and was met by a very dear friend who just so happened to be working her sporadic shift on this day. When my eyes met her, I heard a voice say “are you ready?”. I tucked that voice away and nervously awaited to see what the staff would decide.

After checking my dilation and effacement, my friend, the nurse, soon found my water had broken with her checking my body. We all laughed and I knew without a doubt that there would be a little baby within my arms in less than a day!Richard made a quick call to my friend to head into town and get ready to document the birth of our baby girl!

After having the most peaceful birth with Ya’el, I knew that I would be making the same choice to have an epidural with this labor and we told them to let the anesthesiologist know. Both Richard and I recall having to wait quite some time for the epidural with Ya’el, mainly because I had gone into labor during the night. In fact, it was then that we realized that we had never had a daytime birth. We soon found there is a benefit to day time births, the anesthesiologist is at the hospital, not having to be called in from their warm cozy bed, everyone is bright eyed and alert and services seem to happen at an accelerated pace. I received my epidural, found myself relax and tried to soak in everything happening. The one downside of an epidural is that it can slow down labor. My 3-4 min apart contractions went to 6 min apart and it was decided after a few hours that Pitocin would be the next step. I could honestly care less, after having Pitocin with the 3 oldest and knowing how horrible it is, I was relieved I would not “feel” the Pitocin this time.  During this time Richard, myself and our friend sat and chatted, I would weave in and out of the conversation with them as I still was aware of the contractions and focused on breathing and again tried to take all of the events in, filing them away for moments when I feel like I didn’t cherish the last time.The Pitocin did the trick and I soon saw the quiet little room I had shared with my hubby and friend, swarm with the hustle and bustle of other nurses, my doctor and the equipment they would need to deliver a baby.It got real, it got real fast. I saw the smiles on their faces, I looked over at my husband who was now on his feet rocking back and forth and remember his calm smile on his face. Even though he had snuck in some salecycle shopping…yes…he did…I knew that he was in Go time mode and would be there every step of the way.8 pm: I remember asking them if I could push, the fear of tearing, something I had done with 2 births was looming in my mind. I wanted to make sure we did this right. I was given the green light and could no longer fight the urge to respond to the waves of contractions my body was having.

One of the greatest gifts my OB gave us was the opportunity for Richard to help deliver our little girl. He had wanted to with Cayden and Ezzy, but we had traumatic births with them. Kyre he didn’t press the new locum doctor and Ya’el he had been told he could but it changed when she decided to come face up.

I know some women who have given strict orders to their partners to remain up by their head and to not look at what their body was doing. When Richard had voiced his desire to catch our very last baby, I told myself that I couldn’t deny him this right. He has always been a spectator, watching his wife grow life, giggle at the hiccups, bask in the movement and then do all the work to get them out breathing and safe in our arms, never being part of the action.

8:13 pm: Richard jumped right in, he was calm, and honestly, I can’t tell you that I remember the nurses or my doctor’s face during this time. I was breathing, I was pushing with everything I had, I was telling myself that the pain I felt would be over soon, I was focused on one thing, to get this little soul that grew inside of me for 38 wks out and see that she was going to be just fine. I needed all the secret worries of “what ifs” to be gone and disproved as I held her in my arms.

That little gift our doctor gave us has meant so much to me as I have looked over the pictures, as I have taken in that day. When Veil Eden took her first breath that was breathed into by her Heavenly Father, she was held in her earthly Father’s strong gentle hands. No one else existed in those quick seconds, it was just the 4 of us: Richard, Me, Veil, and God. There is something to be said about having the person who created life with you, to then be the person who hands over that life to you.

All the worries and concerns about me having gestational diabetes soon faded as she passed each sugar draw, lived on my chest, drinking all the milk her tummy could take from my body and I just held her close and kept thanking the Lord for this perfect gift.

You see, Richard and I have finally taken the measures to ensure that this would the last time we would find ourselves inside of the OB ward. We signed the paperwork many months ago, prayed, talked, prayed, talked some more, and prayed. Even though we love our children, we love the tender hard years of infancy and childhood, we also know that we want to be present for our older kids. We know that we need to start really investing in them as their years of being home are flying by. We know that this baby girl is it because the Holy Spirit pressed it on both our hearts at the same exact moment. 

 Did we tear up as we looked one more time in the room Veil took her first breaths as we walked out the doors to go home…yes…I would be doing a disservice to you all if I wasn’t honest. We aren’t leaving behind the baby years with a clouded view, we know that we have been living a dream that wasn’t promised to us due to our health issues, we know that we have been blessed over and over again when we thought we had said goodbye to more children.God knew, God knew when the doors kept getting slammed for Richard to have a vasectomy, had they opened, we wouldn’t have Kyrene, Ya’el or Veil. God knew that we needed these 3 bonus little ladies, we are reminded countless times of his faithfulness as we raise them.Veil Eden, in just a short week you have wrapped all our hearts tightly around you. A timer has to be set for holding you since everyone wants to hold you all day. Your forehead and cheeks are constantly met by your siblings and parents. Your little sounds and faces make Ezzy melt and tell you she is going to love you forever. 

 Your big brother holds you close, never wanting to let you go.Kyre sings you a song when you fuss during your diaper changes. Ya’el has claimed you as her baby. You sleep soundly in your daddy’s arms each night and will only tolerate the crib during the day if there are no arms to hold you. My prayer for you as we watch you grow is that we embrace all that you bring to our family. I have found myself asking God to keep me present, to put my phone down when nursing you, to just sit and study your tiny little hands wrapped around my finger or smile at the tiniest pinky toenail I have ever seen. May we raise you to know your Heavenly Father and always point you to him as you go through this life. We love you and are so blessed to close this chapter of our family with your sweet little soul.

“Everything happens for a reason” is a statement made by so many people after hearing a person share their recent hardship. I have said it before, mainly to others who share a faith in Christ, but yes I have said it and quite possibly disregarded the person’s concerns or worries over the matter…

My hubby recently said those very words to me after a shock that was delivered to me last week.

If you know me, watched my personal story from a distance or only “know” me from reading this blog, I think it is safe to say that you know I am very proactive in personal health and fitness. It all sparked and went a healthy direction (no crazy diet, detox, promise in a bottle, or starvation-all of which I fought and succumbed to for 6 yrs) since the diagnosis of Ezzy. Lung function, a well balanced clean diet is essential to her fight with Cystic Fibrosis. It was a learning curve to instill those principles to all family members and not just directly to her. I knew without a doubt that it would be imperative that I model the lifestyle she needs and also critical that her family walk the journey with her.

We slowly began to say goodbye to processed foods, cutting little things as we went, no more Kraft mac’n’cheese, limited the intake of individually wrapped snacks and removed all store bought meat from our diet. Thankfully we live in a place where we can go and hunt on land and sea to consume safe meat free of unnecessary antibiotics, pesticides, hormones, etc. Currently my 8 yr old is on his way to Yes Bay for a salmon run with his uncle! How we gather in the summer impacts our fall, winter, and spring months. It was a little painful in the beginning, I loved Campbell’s soup mixes, pillsbury biscuits, rice a roni, banquet chicken nuggets…how else does a mom with multiple mouths feed them quickly and on a tight budget?

I soon found that as we limited or removed much of our go to diet, we all began to feel better. We actually get really sick when we venture out and try to eat heavily processed foods or occasionally go to a restaurant.

This decision I will never regret, I am thankful to see developed palates in my children, but also see them choose healthy options over junk.

So diet and exercise, the 2 big factors to the longevity of life with CF, we seemed to have a good grip on, but also with an awareness we can always learn more.

I had been putting off some recent lab work required for this pregnancy, manly because the time frame can be challenging with having 4 kids home in the summer. When I finally saw a pocket of time that would work, I brought myself in and had quieted the lingering fear that had been on my heart the last few months.

Any lab worker that tells you the glucose drink isn’t that bad is LYING, LYING to you…

I choked it down, breathed in through my nose, out through my mouth and went on my way with a time frame to be back within an hour to check my how my body handled the sugar. I received a phone call from the nurse a few hours later and was told what no pregnant woman wants to hear “you failed the glucose test”. I was given orders to march my butt back into the lab and prepare myself for the extensive glucose test.

Anxiety, the little obnoxious friend that knows where to linger soon was standing in front of me.

After talking with my friend who is an RN, she highly encouraged me to not try and “cheat” my way out of the test, she said, “eat the way you normally would, if you have gestational diabetes, then you absolutely want to know”. I did just that, I had salmon spread with whole wheat crackers and some grapes for dinner at the beach with my family.

I attempted to chug the heavy syrup the next morning and prayed that it would stay in my body. With each blood draw I had anticipated feeling weak and shaky, like I had the other times I had to do the 3 hr test. But it didn’t come, I felt hungry, but not on the verge of passing out, something I almost did once.

There was a quiet calmness, I had spent the night before talking with God and asking him to help me see that if something was wrong, that I needed to know for the safety of our number 5. I told myself that the risk of not knowing and the dangers that could come were why I was allowing my arm to be pricked more then 4x.

I was informed within 30 minutes of my final blood draw that I do in fact have gestational diabetes.

Being my normal self, I held back the tears, let my doctors words “you didn’t do anything wrong” go in one ear and out the next. When I found myself in the safety of my husband’s presence I let the tears fall, I was mad, ashamed, worried and just plan shocked. “How could this happen?” “Doesn’t this happen to people who don’t take care of their bodies?”

Later that day, my closest and dearest friend called me randomly. I say randomly because we have to work really hard at scheduling phone dates because we live in different states, we are stay at home moms to multiple children and our family schedules are different. But there she was calling me as I was cleaning the kitchen wallowing in self pity. After getting off the phone with her, I was reminded “do not worry about tomorrow, what you will eat or where, doesn’t our Heavenly Father feed the birds in the air and clothe the flowers in the field?”. Even the sparrow He sees and cares for. I was the sparrow that day, I was the one that needed to be cared for, it came in the form of a friend who heard the Holy Spirit tell her to call her friend, and she listened…oh and did I mention she is an RD?

After being trained to use the glucometer, identifying some triggers to my sugars spiking and not resolving in a timely manner, and quite frankly choosing to put my trust in God alone, I am feeling much better with this humbling diagnosis.

I was challenged to see that all those times I tell Ezzy she doesn’t have a choice, she is going to do her therapy, she is going to take her pills, she is going to have to miss out on an invite to an event due to the risks to her health, that I am now having to follow and OBEY a similar mindset.

Cayden has taken it upon himself to check my sugar numbers, he will even add commentary when I have reach a number that he deems unacceptable. I thankfully have not had a single bad draw, the little modifications that I have made to when/how much food I consume is helping. Turns out going 6 hours inbetween meals, with no snacking is really hard on the pregnant body, working out on an empty tummy each morning has been negatively impacting how my body responds to sugar and carbs, even if they are consumed in small doses.

The next 8 wks of this pregnancy are going much differently then I wanted, but deep down, I knew the Lord was preparing me for this journey, something inside told me that this was going to be the outcome. I am now a high risk patient, have to be seen every week, have stress tests done and additional ultrasounds to see if baby is growing too big too fast. For pete’s sake, please don’t say “oh, that is going to be a big baby” when you see me, I don’t need that. FYI I am measuring JUST FINE, even if some people think I am having twins or look full term. My weight gain has been perfect and so far the scary risks are not knocking at my door right now. I was told as the pregnancy progresses the risks get higher, so I am faithfully following all the rules for a woman with gestational diabetes and praying that those risks stay far away.

SO why am I sharing this with you all? To be completely honest, I had NO plan so of sharing this news. I was going to take it to the grave, only letting my mom and hubby know. I did’t want to be judged, have people say “of course she does, look how big she is”. I didn’t want to deal with the feeling of “what are they going to say about this when I am not around?”. Then it smacked me right across the face…I share Ezzy’s story with you all. WHY? Because I NEVER want her to be ashamed or embarrassed about her story, she did nothing wrong, I have witnessed beauty come from the ashes, I have seen glory come from her trials, I have seen faith strengthened or spring up from dry wells as she fights the good fight. Diabetes is something we have had to prepare for with Ezzy and her CF and now, in God’s grace we will be even more prepared for that day when it is part of her story.  How dare I be ashamed and try and hide a story that God has intended since day one in my life.

I will always welcome prayer, specific prayer now that I am doing the hard part and being an open book. Prayer that baby grows normal, doesn’t have issues after birth (breathing mainly-due to the fact she is getting double the insulin she needs, mine and hers) that I can keep seeing this part of our story as another time to see God’s provision, protection and beautiful plan.

June 17 is the day we celebrate being in holy matrimony with one another. It seems crazy, how on earth have we been married for 10 yrs? I have literally spent 1/2 my life with him (dating since I was 16). I have been thinking a lot about what these 10 yrs have shown me about marriage and have been talking with the Lord about what it means in regards to the design He created for man and woman to have with one another. Here are the top 10 things that I have learned, yes my friends, painfully at times, but things that I know are vital to holy matrimony.

1. Triune Marriage

-there should never be anyone else in your marriage, no girlfriends, friends, parents, support group member. E.V.E.R. The only other entity that has the authority to be there is the Lord. When we started our journey as newlyweds, neither of us pursued a relationship with God. We didn’t submit to His list of “to dos” and we sure as heck didn’t invite Him into our marriage. Our first year of marriage was a rollercoaster. We barely made it out with scars, heated tempers, both vying for the #1 spot left our home in the battle of of wills. When we both found the Lord, realized that He had to be the firm foundation we based our marriage on, things began to chang. Tempers found a way to cool, selfless love was practiced, being on a team became our goal. We learned in the really difficult times that we had a gracious father that wanted us to succeed, to have the marriage He envisioned for us. To this day, we hands down give the success of our marriage to God, knowing that without Him we would still be two very stubborn, selfish and untamable people, quite potentially not together. Our marriage includes: God and the two of us=triune marriage

2. Power of Prayer

-every seen your spouse struggle? Struggle with work, personal matter, sin, clarity, etc? I am shocked if you say no. I use to step back and just give him space when he was struggling, thinking that was the solution. It wasn’t until I learned and truly understood how I have the unique power to intercede (pray) for my spouse, that I changed my reaction to his stress. Richard’s salvation came after months and months of going into my prayer area in our home daily, sometimes every chance I could sneak away. I prayed for him when it seemed it would never happen, when he would reject the newfound hope I had found in Christ, when we would have a disagreement, when he was laying next to me with little desire to have a higher authority in his life. Many tears were shed over that man. Today when I see him struggle, he becomes my priority. I carry him on my heart, I plead with the Lord to intervene. But one thing I have learned is I need to tell him when I am doing, I don’t think all the time, but yes, there are times he needs to know his spouse sees him and cares. I will text him or let him know I didn’t forget to pray for that situation he asked me to stand with him in prayer over. My challenge to you: Pray everyday for your spouse. Find a time that you know you can devote to remembering to pray, something that you do everyday (when you shower, brush your teeth, during naptime, at the end of the day)

3. Intimacy

-buckle down, I am going to get real with you as I get over myself…

Intimacy is so insanely critical to a healthy marriage. I was raised in a very strict Christian background, intimacy was not talked about and I am quite certain if they could have removed Song of Songs from every church bible they would have. I was taught all the negatives of intimacy (fornication, prostition, polygamy in the bible) but was never taught about the good Intimacy. The very thing that hello, God designed our bodies and minds to experience. We started our family very soon after our marriage. Looking back I see why God performed a miracle and gave us Cayden, making room for his sisters throughout the years. But it was rough stuff. There was no God honoring intimacy that took place before Cayden came. We were two sinners, allowing past and current sin in our lives. Then you bring on a baby that makes intimacy an even bigger challenge and you have a recipe for disaster. I will never forget after baby #3 one of the mentors I have been blessed with told me after I experienced frustration in myself and lacking any drive, how important it was to remember that what brought on baby #3, was and still is what needed to be active in our marriage regardless how I felt. My husband needed to know that he still mattered after a baby. Did it mean there were days I had to get over myself and put my husband before me, yes.   I truly believe the first place the enemy attacks marriage begins in the bedroom.  If he can divide man and woman and break their holy union then he can derail what God intended to be a beautiful gift. I also learned from another woman I dearly love and trust how important it is to instigate intimacy. That my husband needs to know I desire him as much as he desires me. So I make sure that I do exactly that and well as someone recently said after seeing my growing belly, “yup, you guys are doing well” (wink) it has impacted our marriage in the most wonderful way. Have we had dry seasons, hard seasons, absolutely, but we found ways, fought to stay united as one.  One last piece, to my sister who is feeling flushed in the face with frustration over this, please know it took me years to figure out what God honoring intimacy was, my part in the equation.  Some of you might say, “well he never asks anymore”.  My husband came to me one time during a dry season and said “there are only so many times I can be rejected by you” goodness I wanted to crawl in a hole and retreat, but he was right.  I had to get over myself and let him know I needed him and not wait around for him to do all the work.  I will say that when I asked Holy Spirit (again the importance of prayer) into this area of being a wife, something dramatically changed. My heart, my vision, my perception of my part in intimacy aligned with the Lords.

4. Be careful what you say

-you know those nasty fights, snide comments, the item thrown at your spouse (yeah those), the angry text, the silent treatment…yeah…they suck. They take the ground out from under you and in return leave you with a looming need of validation. So what happens?!? So many times we run to our girlfriends, moms, or anyone we know who is willing to hear about our difficult spouse. Do you realize how damaging that is? When you go and share current issues, ones that have no resolve and are laced with one sided stuff, we give over authority to someone else to be in our marriage. We can never take back our words, we can paint an unfair picture of our spouse and then all of a sudden those people we let in see our spouse differently. My job is to honor my husband, not bring him down. I have learned this the hard way, I ran to my girlfriends over each squabble and time I felt hurt. It back fired. I actively make the choice to bite my tongue and never squander Richard’s reputation over a personal matter that no one could ever fully understand unless they were personally standing next to me. Besides, going back to #1and #2, I can run straight to God in prayer over the matter and it never fails, He changes me somehow in a situation I only saw Richards faults.

5. Hierarchy 

-my life is governed by a hierarchy. God first, husband second, children third, everything else after. So many times I have read or hear about first hand this struggle in marriage: husband vs. kids. I have even heard other husbands admit that they know they come after the kids in their wife’s hierarchy. I know marriages struggling right now, some in the current child rearing phase and some empty nesters that are just co-existing. One thing Richard and I established early on after being saved was that the kids would have to come after one another. It has not been easy to always have this mentality, but it is something we don’t want to see 18 yrs down the road when our last is moving out, leaving us with a feeling of not knowing one another. Our kids have learned mom and dad time is critical, they see us have a date each morning as we stand in the kitchen during breakfast, to not interrupt our time or every evening knowing they have to be in bed at 8 pm because it is mommy and daddy time. I will never forget during one of my pregnancies when I was having issues, Richard telling me, “I will always choose you first if it comes to your safety over the baby”…”I can’t have another you, you are it”. It stung when he said it, but after I thought about it, I totally understood what he was saying. Your spouse must come before your kids. Your kids need to see a solid healthy relationship.

6. The magic words

-please, thank you, and I am sorry. Those phrases we can choke over at times or worse not feel the need to say. My husband is super good at saying these, me…not so much. I usually slink away in shame when I know I am wrong. I can get so consumed with survival that when he helps me out, my mentality can be “well, yeah you better, you wanted a big family too”. I can undo all that he has done to ensure I am home raising my kids by not honoring him as the other vital person in the equation. Did he make the bed? Thank you. Did he not read your mind about putting his underwear in the hamper and not 1 ft from the hamper? Please, can you pick up… Did you snap in a moment of weakness and say something you regretted? I am sorry



7. Best friend

-why did you say yes? Why was he the one to make you say “I am yours forever”? My guess you had a friendship before marriage. He was the first one to hear your exciting news, the one you shared your hurts, the one you entrusted your vulnerability too, he was who you wanted to run to at the end of the day. Is he still all that? There was a time I put a friendship before my husband, I allowed this person to define me and not my husband. It caused some big issues. When my husband removed the blinders, I saw I put someone before him. I am now so careful with that. I make sure he is my best friend. I lay it all out there for him. You know what? It has provided so much freedom for me. He can speak truth in hard situations, he knows how to approach me when things are crazy because he knows exactly what I am going through since I told him, he can in return pray and encourage me in ways a girlfriend can’t because he sees and hears ALL the nitty gritty. Vice a versa for him too. I know at the end of each day I am his person and he knows he is mine, you can’ trade that comfort for anything.

8. Endeavors

-you know when they get that crazy idea or new passion they want to pursue? Or have that hobby that brings them so much life? If they come to you, excited about something, how you respond matters. I remember hearing a woman speak on marriage and she said, you need to make sure you are your husband’s #1 cheerleader, because if you aren’t, someone else can sneak into that role. There have been more times then 1 that the last thing I want to hear about his how to tan a hide or skin a bird. But those wise words spoken by a happily married woman have stuck with me. I want to be his person. I need him to be mine. Relationship, successful ones are balanced. They are 50/50. I listen to him about what type of bugs to eat away flesh on a skull and he gets to hear about the newest trend in long distance running or the baby’s nursery decor.

9. Old verses new

when we married, I didn’t realize how bad the battle I entered into would be, the battle I am talking about is: who would be Richard’s #1 woman. I will never forget getting chewed on for Richard waking up and changing a poopy diaper. How dare I let him to that? I was then informed that it wasn’t a man’s job to do that, his job was to work and mine was to run the house and do all the child rearing on my own. Being a young impressionable wife and mother, I almost caved. Thankfully I trusted my instinct. I looked at my husband who wanted to be hands on and I let him and yes at times asked him to. To this day, that man is so involved in the daily activities and needs a large family has that I am thankful I encouraged him to be more. My kids and I have benefited from this. There are going to be times you are told to do things a certain way, cook a meal, fold a shirt or something that comes from the woman who raised him. Ladies remember he picked you and trusted you to care for him, he also chose to leave his mother and father and be in union with you. The more you learn about him on your own and don’t rely on the old ways, the more you become unique and valuable to him

10. A single choice

-in my broken example of marriage that was modeled to me by the dissolution of my parents marriage I became very jaded on marriage. Marriage to me was something that when the going got hard I had it in my head that it was time to bail. Why? Because it happened before my eyes, leaving 3 girls to be left with a hole in their hearts unable to fully trust another man. My poor husband inherited a broken wife, he had to unjustly earn his place into an area I refused to surrender. In Large part to him, I learned to trust again. But it again came down to a choice, daily, at times minute by minute. I had to wake each morning and say “I choose you”. I choose you in: in the bad days, in the good times, in the sleepless nights, in the life long sickness of a child, in career ups and downs, over my friends, over the kids, over family, in the times you desperately need to be one with me and I don’t feel I have anymore to give in the day, when I make dinner, when I need affirmation, when I plan my daily duties…each day I am tasked with one single choice, who will I choose?

10 yrs have come and gone, I can’t believe that God was so gracious to give me the desires of my heart and created such a wonderful partner to do life with!  Happy Anniversary my love, blessed to be your wife!  Now on to eternity 

I am going to get real with you…

Anyone else struggle to make their village?!?

I am pretty sure I have shared my past experience of not being the type of girl, young adult or now woman who has naturally fit in groups of women…
Women are emotional, messy, and dynamic all at the same time, because multitasking is what we do best, am I right?

This is and has been something that I have felt shame for or at times felt completely and utterly alone. I have been told that I am intense, too serious, hard to read or have an intimidating exterior. I have fought those labels, felt crushed and am still trying to not let those wounding words leave cuts that can’t be healed.

Why am I sharing this?

I recently was blessed by an intimidate baby shower thrown by two of my friends that went above and beyond to let me know that I am loved and that I am someone worth investing in.

There was this one time I heard another woman share that her circle of friends were not going to throw a baby shower for a woman within their circle because it was her 4th baby and she didn’t need to have a shower. That stayed with me. It made me believe that there is some sort of cap for baby shower etiquette and if your family design abuts societal norms then don’t be thinking your new little baby is worth being honored…

Richard and I talked one night and I told him that I didn’t expect anyone to take the role on to shower our family with this 5th baby. I was honestly really ok with it. When I passed the 1st trimester I started grabbing a package of diapers or nursing pads or anything I see that is a smart choice to purchase at the time. Being a family that is well over the recommended carbon foot print and being a one income family, I wanted to help ease the stress new babies always bring. I swear the tiniest, most vulnerable member of the family is the most expensive!

My very sweet friend who has 4 babies herself came to me and told me her plans. I almost cried, here was a friend that wanted to love on me and celebrate our newest addition.

 Along with another dear friend who is sadly moving from our small island, they worked as a team and prepared an afternoon that mirrored my heart, tastes and yes even a selfish want.

I loved how practical the decor was!  

Leave it to my two friends who are stay at home mommies and are always trying to be resourceful. I am going to treasure the hand made head bands that each of my girlfriends made for baby girl!

After I spent the afternoon surrounded by genuine real women I couldn’t help but feel so blessed to have finally found my village. My village isn’t comprised of just peers or being with the same religious beliefs either, which I really really love. It has taken time…31 yrs to be exact to find my sisters.  Some of us breastfeed, some don’t.  Some have multiple kids, some don’t, some cloth diaper and some don’t.  Some have super strong opinions on how to raise kids and some are just learning as they go, everyone of these ladies is special because they aren’t pretending to be someone else, they are being themselves.  It has taken me having to learn to hold back my stronger traits and wait and pray for ladies that won’t run the other direction from me. I have in these last few years been surrounded by women who encourage me, challenge me, see some good in me somehow and most of all actively choose to be in my life.  I wish I had pictures of all of you who came!  We had too much fun chatting 😉

To my village, to my sisters, thank you. Thank you for carving time in your busy lives to allow me to be a part of your stories and thank you for being who you are! I treasure you all so much more then I know I can say or at times show. Thank you for coming and assuring my overly sensitive hormone driven heart and telling me that this new little life coming is worth celebrating.

P.S.
I love love love my new carrier (even if my face didn’t say it!  I was holding back tears from your kindness) -you ladies are the best

“Don’t you see that children are God’s best gift?  Th fruit of his womb his generous legacy? Like a warrior’s fistful of arrows are the children of a vigorous youth.  Oh how blessed are you parents, with your quivers FULL of children!” ~Psalm 137:3-4

Somebody just asked us at church how old Ya’el is, when we responded, they said “there’s no way!”

I have to admit these two years with Ya’el Ariel Ruth, aka Boo, have gone by so fast. She earned the nickname Boo, thanks to those little piggy tails accompanied with her dark brown hair and eyes, many people told us she looked just like Boo from Monsters Inc.

I struggle, maybe because I am yet again growing another human inside my body and my brain keeps telling me that I need to make room for an infant and I am unable to accept the fact that Ya’el is now a toddler. I look at Ya’el and tell myself all the time “but she is still such a baby”. I didn’t feel that way when I was gearing up for a newborn with her siblings, I didn’t struggle with accepting the much missed yet can’t wait for it to end baby phase. I have never been one to want to wrap up my kids in tiny little bubbles and not let them grow. I want them to leave the nest, equipped, confident and self assure they can grow up. But this time, this time has been different.

A friend recently told me that I might be struggling because in our hearts we had finally said our final fair wells to anymore children. We really did say goodbye.  We moved on, held a newborn Ya’el and felt complete, felt the need to move out of this newborn phase.  For those of you who read my blogs and followed our story personally, I know…we have said our final fair wells 3x now…but

God and His plans…

I have held Ya’el longer when she has slept in my arms, I have relinquished my consistent rules that I refused to break on her other siblings, I have caught myself just staring at her. She draws you in if you aren’t careful. You could sit forever and watch her little piggy tails bouncy as she hops from one place to the next, while humming whatever song is on her heart. I know this to be true because when I go places with her and succumb to her free spirit, I get the pleasure of steeling glances of others who can’t help but smile as they watch this little one drink in life.

We recently switched the rooms in our home (something that if you are close to us, you have experienced we get restless with room assignments and furniture placing). Ezzy moved into the room with her sisters and Cayden moved into the old playroom. We expected some resistance from the parties involved, yet we have been pleasantly surprised with the outcome. I learned on the recent trip with Ezzy, that when Ya’el doesn’t want to sleep or is fussing, she climbs into bed with Ezzy. After seeing a very tired Ezzy one morning, I was informed that Ya’el had woken with the early morning sun and climbed in bed with Ezzy and wanted to name off all the body parts she knows or every family members name.

Ya’el woke up one day this last week and decided to not be a baby anymore. She will joyfully tell you that she is 2 and struggles to get two little fingers to stand up by themselves. Ya’el will talk to you in a sentence format, but the trick is having one of her trusted translators close by. Ya’el also has decided that she is ready to potty train and since Friday, has told us 75% of the time when she needs to go potty!!!! Leave it to the #4 to do things on her own.

Every morning, the first thing that comes out of her mouth is “cerwerl”, cereal, she climbs up in her seat and let’s her blood sugar slowly return to normal as she sits in silence away from the rest of the family still trying to wake up. Within just a few minutes you will see her little legs swing from the bench and she might even say hi to someone as they walk by. Once the bowl is empty she climbs down and starts the adventures on her jammed packed list. It use to really drive me nuts that she is an early riser, even more so now that sleep is so precious to me. Thankfully I have an ever present, hands on husband that attends to the needs of our early risers. Now I find myself chuckle when I hear the fast rhythmic shuffling of her feet scurry across the floors as I am nestled in my bed, knowing that she has woken up and can’t wait to start her day.

Ya’el will chase her daddy to the door and have her arms spread wide and lips ready to give a kiss when he heads to work. She needs you to say “bye” to her when she waves her beauty queen wave and says bye or she will keep repeating herself. If you want to have a snuggle party on the couch, she is your girl. After each shower she craves to be rocked back and forth as you sing “sweet baby, sweet baby Ya’el” thanks to her daddy starting that tradition. Ya’el craves to be held and will follow you around the house and say “up”, the moment you pick her up, she will wrap her arms tight around your neck or tuck them in and release a sigh of relief. As if her love cup became dangerously low, she runs to find the nearest person who will hold her tight until she has reached livable levels. I have found her in her brother and sisters arms in moments that my arms could not fill up her urgent request.

I love hearing her sweet little voice sing along to any music she hears. She has shown me time and time again that all the time she spent inside my womb, listening to worship music has had a lasting impact on her need to express herself in song.

Our days can get a little intense and sometimes, the level of patience we give to one another can wane, but I have found its in those times that Ya’el will take it upon herself to change the energy in the room. She loves to laugh, she loves to play games with you, most of the time you can actually look in her eyes and realize that she is up to something.

We have looked at baby pictures of myself, my mom has said countless times that Ya’el the spitting image of me, yet her personality is nothing like mine. She is her father to a T.

As the months have flown by since finding out that Ya’el would no longer be the baby of the family I have found myself wondering how she will feel about not being the baby to everyone. I have worried it might wreck her. She has never been labeled an easy going child, in fact when I have to run errands with her I never know what to expect. Unlike her siblings that I could read and determine the outcome, going and doing things with Ya’el is like rolling dice.

When Ya’el turned one we missed out on doing a party for her. We were traveling for Ezzy’s big surgery last year and returned with two sick kids. By the time our family was healthy, weeks had gone on and we never did a party for her. To be honest, the response from her parents was “it’s not like she knows what she missed”. Thankfully this year we were able to do a small party with family and her surrgate parents Joel and Kalli. I am beyond thankful she has people outside her mom and dad that she knows loves her dearly. I have spent many Sunday’s watching her leave our arms and run straight into theirs.

My heart has found peace in just this last week as I have watched her become so proud of the new things she is learning to say and do. I have also loved seeing she wants to be a big girl and no longer wants to be identified as a baby. Daniel tiger has been instrumental in preparing her for being a big sister. I know that her special spot in her daddy’s heart will be a place she finds comfort in as she learns to share her momma. I know that she is going to love having her older siblings home this summer and go on fun adventures and be seen as a big kid. I know that when the time comes for her to get her love cup filled up and recharge she will understand there is a little baby that needs it too. I know that the love she freely gives has brought more joy to us then we could have hoped in the short 2 years of her life. I know that God created her to fill a spot only she can in our family, I am ever grateful she is ours.

Happy birthday Boo

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Today the most important man in my life turns 33. In all the chaos of life, his birthday snuck up on us. For the 2nd year in a row, Ezzy has stolen the spotlight and we are completely consumed with her care. But in all honesty this humble man wouldn’t have it any other way. Some might still be surprised to hear that, mainly because they don’t see or interact with him regularly to experience the dramatic change that has taken place in his life.

I am forever grateful that God decided to move William Richard Harney to rainy Ketchikan Alaska. His family lived on the other side of the US, Baltimore Maryland. Why on earth a family, surrounded with their own family on the east coast would pack up and move to a tiny island that has 5 stop lights, intersections and a road system that abruptly ends on each side of the island is so clearly divinely planned to me.

A friend in highschool introduced me to Richard, I can’t shake that day. We were sitting in sophomore hall talking and I remember her saying “here he comes”. I looked up, saw a 16 year old boy full of more testosterone than seemed legal, a goatee, earrings, ball cap, a grey sweatshirt (yes I remember the colors even) kaki skater pants and skater shoes. My heart didn’t skip a beat, I didn’t see him and say “that is the one”. I simply saw a boy, shrugged it off and went back to my life…

There are days when he stands at the front door, a head overtaken with grey hair, breakfast on a plate (because he spent his morning making it for everyone else and didn’t get a chance to sit and eat it while it was hot), he locks eyes with me as I sit and sip my hot coffee trying to armor up for the day. It is in that moment time stands still, my heart will skip a beat, a smile over takes the corner of his mouth and I know exactly what that man is telling me without a single word uttered.

He was just 17 when he decided I was the one to pursue, I was 16, wanted nothing to do with the jerk that was on my soccer team.

He is 33, I am 31, I can’t imagine a day without him in my life, I am still pursued, sometimes more intently then I was when I was 16.

We recently took our babies on a walk in the blip of sunshine we received. We dropped the commitments already booked on our calendar for the day, something we rarely do. Responsibilities followed through is a big deal for our family. Yet he called me at the end of his work day and said, let’s go walk and ride bikes. How do I say no? I have been blessed with a man that chooses us daily, more then daily, chooses us with each breath he takes.  Do I wonder what life would have been like had we parted our ways permanently? Yes, there have been days my mind wanders, especially when the stress is high. I was bound for a private east coast college, he was pursing his love of soccer in college. I recall making the call, deciding to stay close to him. I recall the moment I thought I made a mistake, telling him I needed space. He waited, waited for me to spread my wings. To make sure I knew as he did, that we were meant for eternity.

He works harder then most men his age I know, I sometimes have to corner him and tell him to turn it off! I see him walk in the door, heavy shoulders, a look on his face that he desperately needs to go and retreat in time out, but there he is, engulfed with little ladies wrapped around his legs, a son demanding his immediate attention. His eyes lock on mine, no words need to be said, I know what he is saying…

I am watching his care extend beyond his own children. He chooses every season, every sport to coach our kids. That means that 8-12 kids come under his wings. It means that when I watch games come and go, there are little souls running up to him, hanging on him, resting in his care as they are seen as valued.

Summer seems to turn most wives into widows. Not me, please don’t think I am judging your circumstance if it does the opposite for you. It is our story, our journey, one that we have chosen together. Summer means that he has soccer teams to coach on Friday and Saturdays, meaning the deer hunt has to be put on hold, the early morning bite is going to have to happen without his pole in the water. It means that he is going to get out of bed, go and wake his little warrior up, hold her, tell her she is precious to him, put her on her vest and snuggle his other babies as we get ready for our always packed Saturday’s. He chooses us, trusting that if we are taken care of well, provisions will come in abundance, a family rooted in Christ will happen, hunts, weekends to himself with happen when God ordains it too.

A new little life is growing inside of me, responding to his deep voice when he decides to call out her name as the rich tones of his voice vibrate on my belly. I see him already making room for another soul that is going to depend on him, need his care and love. Does he have days where caring for 6 mouths gets to him, um yeah, I don’t know how it couldn’t, but he does it with grace and assurance that God created him for this life.

When I think about the cocky youthfully arrogant 17 yr old boy that is now the confident 33 yr old man centered in Christ, I see a testimony of the power of God. I see a man being honored, a man that God absolutely believes will lead his family in love to the throne room of God, a man that sees what has been given to him as a blessing and not a curse.

If you see my man today, wish him a happy birthday, he is a man that lives behind the background, rarely receiving the recognition for all that he does for us and many others.
Happy birthday my Ephesians 5 man!

Have you ever had to go into a situation that had your logical and irrational sides of your brain at war? Yeah, those moments…they seem to make you evaluate what you believe to be true and also place you into situations where you have to decide if a fear has validity. It always comes down to a choice, a choice that you have to make.

 I will admit, I was not in a good state of mind entering another procedure room, having another large needle invade the safe little home that I have been slowly growing for our precious number 5. I have seen prayers go unanswered, I have witnessed loss when you least expect, but most of all the new OBGYN decided to freak me out by telling me a scary story of an amniocentesis ending badly…why on earth He would say it to a pregnant woman still baffles me. I had done the research before, understood the risks, but again was faced with this decision being made for me. High risk, history of genetic mutation are all on my medical chart. The unknown and Ezzys entrance into the world that required an airlift to Seattle and an entire team working to save her life now impacts her mom’s prenatal care she receives on a remote Alaskan island.

I had very little sleep the night before, we did our best to get to bed early, knowing we would need to be up and on the road by 7:15 at the very latest.   

 Thankfully the city traffic wasn’t horrible and we arrived with a few extra minutes to spare. We went through the consults, talked with the genetic counselor, you know the “will the results of the amino determine your decision to proceed with the pregnancy” talk. After sitting through those talks, angry at a world that allows murder to take place on innocent souls that have done nothing wrong, I gathered up what little strength I had and headed to get my blood drawn. The last step needed before getting my amino.

I sat in the cold phlebotomist’s office, btw, why are their offices always cold? I handed over my arm, silently talking with God and laying down my anxious thoughts at His feet. I looked up after the vile had been filled and glanced at the name tag of the person who managed to poke me with little awareness to my stubborn rolling veins. I like to look at people’s name tags, something a pastor encouraged us to do in a sermon. He reminded us many times people who wear name tags work in thankless jobs, he told us to read their tags and say thank you followed up with their name. I did this out of habit, but suddenly realized I had been given a divine message from my Abba Father.

The name of little Harney #5 is unique, I doubt a person could even think we would consider this name. I’ll admit, we have kids with unique names, but this one we struggled even finding in a baby name registry. As God would have it, the person drawing blood at the hospital had our child’s name as their last name. I smiled, thanked my vampire and told them they shared a name with our little gift. They expressed shocked, mentioned it’s not a name they have ever heard to be given as a first name and then asked why we chose it. Then, right there, I took the opportunity that God had designed to happen that day. I shared the meaning, the scripture passage and why this name is so precious to us. On the 7th floor of Swedish hospital, a phlebotomist was given a condensed salvation message. 

Honestly how many times do we really take every opportunity to share the Gospel in everyday life? Me, I will absolutely say I get timid, afraid, let my head get in the way. But on March 24th, through the power of the Holy Spirit I bodily proclaimed Jesus Christ to someone who has drawn blood from countless women who have decided the sanctity of life was not important enough to save their child that would enter the world in a different package then they expected…

The amino went well, it was uncomfortable, but not like Ya’el’s and I left feeling completely covered and protected. How could I not, God had been busy that day, reminding me that he goes before me.

Well, those results that came from the blood draw and amino are in…

I was standing in the kitchen after a quick grocery store trip. Bags of food needing to be put away and a land line ringing, something I tend to ignore more then I should. Then my cell rang, good Lord, who ever is calling sure needs to talk now. I grabbed my phone, saw the Seattle area code and thought, “huh, wonder what this is about”. It was too early for my results, they said 2-3 weeks…

“Hello, are you still there?”

As if someone snapped their fingers I replied, “yes, sorry, I just wasn’t expecting the results yet, isn’t this too early?” 

 
I was told the test was taken, sent off and processed at the most perfect time. They verified and knew this was in fact the answer we had been preparing for since the day we found out life was forming inside me.

After Richard and I talked, I told him it was heavy on my heart that we talk to Ezzy first, one and one, no siblings and let her process it with us. Thankfully my mom was free and we took her out for some icecream. 

 
“Ezzy girl, do you know why we are here?…we want to talk with you, alone…remember the big needle…the doctor called to tell us the results…the baby doesn’t have CF…”

As her head sank to the table, eyes drawing it to the floor and shoulders rolled forward, I knew why God said, she needs you to talk to her, just her, no one else around…

“Awe, but why?…I don’t want to be the only one with CF…it’s lonely”

During my pregnancy with Ya’el her little heart thanked God for her health right before the amnio, she claimed health with her untainted childlike faith.

This time, after a trying year with a growing and maturing understanding of Cystic Fibrosis, her perspective has changed.

Ezzy is having a hard time, I mentioned it in her blog for her 6th birthday. The emotional side of CF is weighing her down. She is fighting therapies, she sets the mood for the entire day and family as she is holding her power over us. Her brother tries to get the vest on her, Ya’el brings it to her, Kyre gets Candy, they all sit around her and she still fights it to the final straw. Her recent sickness meant 6 days of missed school, therapy 4x a day, I.e. Drill sergeant mom enforcing what is not negotiable in our home. 6 days away from friends, 6 days feeling like crap, run down, coughing up green mucous and seeing everyone else in the family carry on has left a massive chip on her shoulder.  

We were driving home from school on Friday and as I pulled into the driveway Ezzy said “I don’t want to go to heaven, it will be lonely, you guys won’t be there”. Thank goodness the car was in park, I might have not held it together, I felt all the air exhale out of my body and was stuck inside my head and heart going “what do I say?!?…how is she afraid of Heaven…I am failing her…she knows CF means mortality?!?!…Lord, please”. As my lungs began to fill with air and I saw two little dark brown eyes looking at me, I heard an 8 year old full of more wisdom and faith then his adult mom. “Ezzy, don’t be scared, Ken will come find you”. Heaven, heaven is tangible to my 8 yr old because of the loss of my mentor, but Heaven became tangible in a little heart, speaking out of fear that day, because of a loss she could understand.

 
I have been thinking a lot about this conversation. Many questions about how to help her process this understanding. We don’t talk about the death part of CF around her and if we have it is so coded with big words that aren’t used regularly around her.  

Today I asked myself, how do I prepare my child for death? Morbid-trust me-but Ezzy is like me, she has to process things. When families have lost their CF children, it took them by surprise. That cold that turned to pneumonia that turned to lung exasperation to death left them without a chance to fully say good bye or prepare their child for that moment. I don’t want that for Ezzy. I want her to long for her inheritance, a life filled with no more sickness, constant joy, but more importantly an eternity with our King Jesus. I want her to face the hardships with a faith that James 1 talks about it. I want her to take the trials she is asked to go through and turn them into testimonies of His glory. I want her to live courageously for Christ, sharing her faith with her friends and anyone she meets. I want her to not waste a moment on earth and believe she is truly an ambassador of His Kingdom.

That’s a lot of wants and dreams for my little girl. Yet today God reminded me again, “Sarah do you remember weeping next to her in the NICU, begging me to let you see her first steps, go to kindergarten, get her heartbroken, graduate from highschool, get married…that list Sarah, I AM fulfilling it”  

So as we are finding a way to breathe a sigh of relief in the health of our newest baby, we are also reserving our Joy to ensure Ezzy knows when she is frustrated or mad at her lonely life of being now the only 1 of 7 Harneys to have CF that she will come and talk to us. I am praying that God will give me wisdom, holy discerning wisdom to impart to a child who has reasoned in her mind she is going on before us. I am praying that Richard and I, along with the help of any of you who want to speak truth into her life, will renew a hope of Heaven in her black and white little world.  

If you see us and bump into us and mention the results of the testing we ask that you come and rejoice with us but with reservation and an awareness of a hurt little heart that is trying to figure out why she has been set apart yet again. We know this baby has come to be another needed support crew member in Ezzy’s life. Another cheerleader to help with therapies and medications, another family member to take a shift at the hospital, another person to surround her when she has to be isolated because of CF. This baby was created for a purpose, just like their big sister had been.

  
Ezrah May, I am thinking about and praising God for the nurse that came and stood over your bed they day we found out you were going to be going home, shocking the medical community with your miraculous healing after surgery. As she held some charts in one hand and gently stroked your head with her finger, she looked up at me with a warm smile, eyes filled with wisdom from her own health battle she went through with God’s hand over her life and she said “Ezrah May, I have a verse for you…For I know the plans I have for you declares the Lord, they are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a FUTURE and HOPE” Jeremiah 29:11. That day baby girl, a stranger and yet a sister in Christ spoke God’s truth and promise over you that day. May we both hold on to the many ways God has made sure to let you know you were created for this life.