Restoring Piece

Oh, 2016, I wasn't sad to say goodbye to you. This break-up was much needed and it was definitely you and not me, Sweetie. Did y'all feel the same? So. much. happening. Our personal world of "so much" began on the night of November 9th. While we were at our church small group, we got the *magical* call from our adoption consultant that an expectant mama wanted to speak with us. This means that she looked through a stack of profile books that included our story and she chose us. US. Holy, wow. We jumped up and down, we hugged,...

Have you heard Hillary Scott’s new song, “Thy Will”? It’s to-the-core good and these days it seems to be my go-to: “Down like a child on my knees all that comes to me is, ‘Thy Will be Done.’ I know you see me, I know you hear me, Lord. Your plans are for me; goodness you have in store.” It’s beautifully written, am I right? Such an anointing on those words. But why is it so hard to believe while we are in the trenches? Why, when we know He loves us infinitely more than we could ever imagine, is...

When we moved into our home last May, I quickly realized that throwing my leg up and crawling over the gigantic tub everyday - twice a day - to open and close the blinds was not going to last. Either that, or I was going to have to start showering in the dark for privacy. Let's be real...if I'm involved, both of those scenarios could lead to serious injury. I needed to figure out something clever for both of our windows in the bathroom. Stat.  While doing a little "research" (or filling up online shopping carts that never actually check out),...

Seeing your face for the first time means so much to me. So many questions are answered before we ever say a word. You invite me in and we talk until 2:00 in the morning. Sadly, I can't recall much of that conversation, but I know there was a lot of laughter, and maybe some healing, too.  Where were you? I've been growing up without you, just 3 miles from where we sit now. You missed so much. I want to understand, but I've prepared myself in case I can't.  We plan a dinner date the next week. You pick me...

Goodbyes are painful, but hellos can be just as difficult. Last night I had a dream about my father, not my dad, but my father. I don't want you to hear bitterness in that statement, because it's just fact. The man who raised me, who has been in my life since I was 3 years old is my dad. Truth be known, I still call him Daddy, which seems pretty normal here in the South. (Yes, that's me with the Kool-Aid mustache and Coke bottle glasses) My father, however, I did not meet until I was 23 years old, the...