WOW. Did church hit me right in the gut again today.
I spent a whole bunch of years staring in the rear view mirror, despairing over my mistakes. I told someone the other day, that I spent more time beating myself up over them, that I spent years thinking I was unworthy of God's grace.
Dumb.
God loves me. God loves you.
He is working on me right now. Pretty hard, intense and powerful.
I've been resistant to what He is putting before me.
SO RESISTANT.
But, my word for 2019 is OBEDIENCE.
ACK, why did I choose that one? Because God is calling me to be obedient in his calling.
I struggle with obedience. I speed everywhere like my hair is on fire. I do pretty much what I want, when I want. But in 2019, I'm going to slow down and really be obedient.
I will clue everyone in the plans in a few weeks, as all the walls fall down.
Nothing about this life is easy, but walking in God's will has become the road I'm taking. And boy, is He is a serious joker. :O
This song undid me this morning. Usually I get caught up in the billion word, and the rocks crying out in silence and I focus on that, but today, I heard it different. If you gave your life to give me life, Lord, then I'm here. Let me shine your love through my actions in 2019.
Give me strength and health to do your will, Lord.
November has come and gone, and I didn't take five minutes during the month to sit down and write about any of it.
Basically because I didn't have five minutes together at any one time.
But I'm not complaining.
Kip and Dawson were here for five glorious days and mercy, I just love that little boy and his mama. I sure missed Brandon though. It was weird not having him here. There is so much to write about in November. Brandon's parents and younger brother and sister in law, lost their homes in a fire in California. It was tragic and sudden and left everyone in a state of shock. I'm continuing to pray for them daily and the community as a whole. What a devastating turn.
Life at the 81-81 has settled into a groove. Other than arguing in the front room over Lord knows what, and missing the bus, life is pretty "normal", "average", "insane" on the whole.
And this blog came to me on Thanksgiving morning, as I grabbed the two bags of sweet potatoes that I purchased for the big meal of the year, and I was peeling them.
It simmered and cooked as I peeled (the blog that is) and I was like, "Whoa, I need to go write this down", and of course, started peeling russets 5 minutes later and promptly forgot.
10 days later I am volunteering at the Crescent food bank, and out of ALL the things one can do when one volunteers, I am put on.....you guessed it.....weeding through the sweet potatoes.
I'm all.... "Ok, God. I hear you." So fast foward yet ANOTHER WEEK.....finally, here I am.
I'm all about the sweet potatoes. I have loved them forever, and they are a big deal at the Thanksgiving meal.
So, I opened the bag of supposed yummy goodness and to my utter dismay, they were just AWFUL looking. Hard, thick peel and lumpy, bumpy little roundness of CRAP. All I could think as I surveyed these ridiculous excuse for sweet potatoes was, "Oh NO--- there goes all the chances for my favorite part of the meal!" I ripped the other bag open, and again! Hardened, rough, misshapen little balls of crap.
OH MY AMERICA.
So, I grab my peeler, say a little prayer and start the process of peeling. The first potato gave me a run for my money, had to scrape quite a bit of layers to get to the sweet potato, but after a few good scrapes, boom.....sweet potato magic.
I kept peeling all these potatoes and no matter HOW ROUGH or HOW I thought I needed to toss them in the trash, the resounding truth rang out to me..... "They are all the same in the middle"
And WHOA.
All these kids. They come to us so layered in pain. Remembering Gina, how buried the Gina we all know and love now, was at the beginning of our journey together. Watching her come into her own at a PRIVATE SCHOOL, and nominated for homecoming queen by her peers. WHAT? Remember that horrible, broken kid that almost tested me to my limits those early days? How buried was her sweet potato inside?
And lately, watching Tyler's older brother Ted, chase his demons. The Ted I know is a gentle giant. The Ted I know held Deaton so carefully in his giant hands, and kissed the tiny face. The Ted I know wept when his nephew was born. The first to get a picture from his brother. The Ted I know, gave his life to Christ in the symbol of baptism a few short months ago.
But Ted has layers and layers and layers and layers of self doubt, shame, despair, never believing he is worthy of goodness and grace. Years and years of that pain. I understand that pain to a degree. I made mistakes in my past that robbed me of my self worth. Many mistakes. I went to church and sat in the pew, but I didn't feel worthy of God's love. He wouldn't love me, He couldn't forgive me of the pain I had caused others. And the more I let that sink into my believing, the farther away from God I became.
Satan is a liar. He feeds on your fears. He takes what you hold the most sacred and twists it into the horror of his own choosing. AND ONLY WITH GOD, can we take Satan's power away.
YOU CAN'T BELIEVE THE LIES. Self doubt, pain, self loathing, that is the enemy robbing you of the life God wants for you.
Just like those sweet potatoes, we are willing to THROW IT AWAY, instead of peeling the layers -- by praying... by attending church.... by getting GODLY FRIENDS.....by believing that we ARE worthy of God's goodness and grace.
THERE IS NOTHING. No amount of ugly sweet potato peeling, layers of guilt, layers of shame, layers of self doubt, self loathing that can KEEP US FROM GOD.
He LONGS for us. He is up there, just waiting for us to call out to him. To reach for him. To surrender to Him. And he doesn't see the layers, he only sees the sweetness inside. And when you give that to Him, He will come in with the butter and brown sugar, and all the wonderful marshmallows on top, and start you fresh.
It doesn't matter about the outside. He only cares about what's on the inside.
Don't ask him where he is.......Ask Him to Come in.
And to my friend, Teddy Bear Holt, you big giant sweet ball of goodness, lost in shame right now...this is for you.
I know what's inside and I don't even see the layers. You are never too deep in to swim to the surface. Just know God has the light on, and He's waiting for you. Satan knows what a story you are going to share with so many people and change their lives. You're a threat to Satan. Don't give in to his lies. Your family and friends believe in you.
Don't throw away a sweet potato because it looks iffy. Peel the layers and enjoy the goodness.
Jackson Lee was in the hospital 10 days. He came home exactly on the day he would have come home, had he been born on the day he was scheduled for.
Wow. That's a mouthful.
I spent a lot of time at the nursery window, gazing at his perfection.
Then on Sunday the 28th, Lacey text me and told me he had been off his oxygen for a few hours and was doing good. By 1:30 am on Monday morning, he was in the room with them, and he did just great.
I kept Deaton this past weekend, so Dad could get some rest and after dropping DD to school on Monday morning, I headed to the hospital to meet my grandson.
And he did not disappoint. He woke up for his lolly and gazed me straight in the eyes. Oh, my, goodness. What friends we are going to be.
3.5 oz of milk later (!!!!!!) we weighed him so we knew (Charli Hull did, our lactation specialist, WHO IS THE WOMAN) It was time for Mr Man to head to the snip snip department and lose all things manly.
This little boy had so much done to him, that snip snip didn't even phase him. Full belly, I'm out, no worries. Didn't even flinch or cry. He's the man.
Then it was time to head to the house. One tiny button in a car seat later, off we go to take him home.
He sleeps and sleeps and sleeps and sleeps and is so comfy cozy, he doesn't want to wake up. This is a good problem to have, but buddy, let's save that sleepy stuff for night, k?
Daddy goes to get Deaton from school and we are so excited to have them meet.
Deaton doesn't disappoint.....his precious little announcement after holding him.....
And everything is right with the world......
There's always a reason for delay friends. There's always a reason you are kept waiting and waiting. God's timing is perfect....don't think for a moment He's forgotten about you or forsaking you. All the time spent at the hospital..... Not a day went by that Lacey wasn't able to share her story about Laynie and impact lives. The hundreds of people beefing up their prayer lives praying for us daily....some of you hourly. God wants us to live in a constant state of prayerfulness. For years, I didn't even think that was a thing that could ever happen. Just ridiculous to think about... Pray? Constantly? What? Now I pray almost all day about everything. God is front and center, right where He wants us to put Him. And though I wanted Jackson to not feel anything painful or be in distress, I knew God had Him in His hands and loves that baby more than any of us can even understand. His Plan Is Perfect. It's not our plans, it's not our timing, and we love to stay in control so much, it's hard to put that down and realize, God has got it ALL FIGURED OUT. Just enjoy the ride.
This big brother adores his little brother. Let the good times continue.........
Friday October 19, after battling high blood pressure all week, Lacey's doc decided it would be a good idea to go ahead and have baby boy, to preempt any preeclampsia thing before it happened.
After just going through this with Kip about 6 months ago, I was all for it, because the details of Kip's ordeal were still swimming in my head. Plus, we all thought he was about 38 almost 39 weeks, so that's a good time. And Deaton was a warrior, and had no issues after his c-section, so we are deliriously, ignorant to any of the things that sometimes come with a c-section.
The new women's unit at the Shawnee Hospital is just amazing. I had Lacey there 34 years ago, and I would have given my left arm for such a nice room. Holy COW.
They took Lacey in about 11:30 and Tyler got suited up and I had to laugh because these suits are really made for a 6 foot 7 frame. Or size 14 feet. He still got er dun, though.
Then a wonderful magical thing happened. The charge nurse decided I could stay in the room and wait (Instead of going to the waiting room down the hall) and so I sat on pins and needles waiting for my picture from Tyler (still wrapped up in the memory of how Deaton worked his way out).
12:00 --- 12:30 -- And I'm starting to get somewhat alarmed. 1:00 and I'm standing at the door of the room and it swings open and a nurse whisks by with the baby, and Tyler is right behind her. I know that Lacey had wanted to have skin on skin immediately, so I knew something was up. Tyler immediately texts me a picture and says 6 lbs 15 oz born at 12:55. 20 3/4 inches long.
And then in short order... this picture...
Though Lacey looks radiant as can be, I immediately notice that our baby doesn't have the coloring that Deaton (or Dawson for that matter) had, and as the nurse walks in to start to prepare the room for Lacey, I start asking questions.
Jackson Lee (Can I hear some applause for that name?) is having trouble getting his breath, and he managed to gulp half of his amniotic fluid on his way out. (I'm exaggerating, but watching him spit and sputter all day, it felt like a gallon). So they've taken him to the nursery to give him some oxygen and really watch him closer.
Lacey comes back in and she is calm as a cucumber. "It's all good mom, this is sometimes what c-section babies do... very very typical". So I calm my nuggets down, and sit in the room and run back and forth from her room to the nursery window to take pics and to give her reports (and mainly for my own piece of mind). NOTHING at this point is status quo. NADA.
On one of my many trips to that window, I managed to catch this picture, and if I thought I had loved my son in law to the capacity to which I could love him, it was just a starter love. This pushed me over the edge into infinity love. He must have stood that way for an hour rubbing that little boy's head and talking to him and holding his feet and calming him. Just tear up looking at it now.
Meanwhile, mom is recovering excellent and is ready to see her baby. They wheel her in her bed on her way to her room and let her take a look at baby doll.
Once settled in the room (And WOW these rooms are nice), the pediatrician shows up and tells her that he wants to start baby on more air and get an IV started to push some fluids and man, did I experience PTSD. Lacey is so calm, and I'm not going to lie.... I could laugh and cry in the same sentence. A bit like this.
So I went home, and pulled myself together, and remembered how incredible our prayer team is, and how good God is, and how EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THE THINGS...that EVER happen is always to our GOOD, even when it's NOT of our choosing.....I realized that the plan was already in place. and we just had to lean into HIM and walk through it.
Live with expectation...and faith....and knowledge that HIS WILL AND PLAN is perfect.
I knew this. I know this. I understand this.... but, God... he's so small.
"But Laura, I'm so BIG. When will you EVER understand this??"
"I do, God, I do."
"Then trust me in all THINGS"
Pediatrician has determined he was younger than we thought. Totally thrown off by his small hulk size (Hello, look at his daddy and his grandpa), I believe he's more 36 weeks than 38... and the nurses say he acts and looks more like that also.
So, as Lacey likes to say, "We are on Jackson time". And that's all right by me. Thankfully the new wing has an 'Open door" policy, meaning even if mommy is discharged, if baby is there, mommy can stay. Which is a blessing .... such a blessing. He does much better when she is in there with him, and we got some SUPER cute pictures this morning, and oh my gosh, I am in LOVE with this little long sausage nugget.
Finally brought Deaton up to meet him, and he was a bit puzzled, "He's out, but he's not here??" "Yep, buddy, that about sums it up."
Grammie Great drove over and peaked at him through the window. I think #8 great grand is just as sweet as #1-7 were.
Our funniest moment so far, was when they presented Lacey & Tyler with his footprints that they make and put on a neat little board and give to the family. Lacey took one look and grabbed her "Belly pillow" to hold her incision and laughed and laughed and laughed. She's all, "I sure make extra special babies, look at those feet, two different sizes" and we LAUGHED so hard. I still chuckle everytime I look at this. And by the way, His FEET ARE the same size. Not sure how that worked out, but we love to laugh, so thanks for that respite.
The heart radiologist came down from OKC to take an echo of his heart, because his Saturation level isn't staying regular and they wanted to rule out anything heart related, and it all looked great. His sats stay great when mommy is in there, they just tank out in tiny spurts and I am going to just believe that he's a tiny bit on the early side and when he is 13 and 6 foot 3 and all middle school angst and talking smack back to me about my "lame" questions, I will have forgotten all about how he began as a little bitty gum drop and I was laughing/crying/losing sleep worrying over his middle school self.
But for now, I thank my warriors, my level headed daughter and my superb son in law. I thank Lacey's dad and wife for tirelessly caring for the 3 year old crazy boy that wants to meet his "Bruther". I thank all my friends that are praying, and taking Lacey food (if she sees anymore fast food, she may flip her stuff) and just holding us up in prayer. We feel all of them. Mainly, I praise God from whom all blessings flow, because Jackson Lee is a dream realized. A warrior in the making. Made in God's own image. And I am standing in belief that he will be healed and heading home in a few days and the impression that our family made on people around us, by sharing our faith, and sharing Laynie's story again and again, and involving thousands in prayer, will change lives.
God is good, all the time. Because look at this little miracle.
This morning I had the honor of witnessing a beautiful tribute to a precious little life.
Kannon Bradley Foster was born to Kelli Hoskins Foster and Zach Foster on April 1, 2010. He was a special little boy, and he showed up in our lives as we were slowly, but surely saying good-bye to our Laynie.
It's so weird. Life is so weird. I had lived almost my entire life, almost totally untouched by disability of any magnitude. I knew a couple of children with down's syndrome, but I was always so enchanted by them, their pure joy for life and everyone. Then we were given Laynie. God opened our eyes and hearts to an entire way of life I didn't even knew existed.
Lacey was my hero (and still is), soldiering through the maze of the unknown. And then one of Kip's best friends, having her own little miracle and walking fearlessly into the maze, with her husband's hand always just inches away, ready to help her in any way.
I've watched Kelli and Zach for 8 years now. I watched them tackle everything that Kannon threw at them. They were handed a very special,precious challenge, and they rose to it and just crushed it.
As I sat and viewed Kannon's videos and pictures this morning at his celebration, the one thing that emanated from the screen, was L O V E. Pure, joyous, unadulterated love. Every picture had joy. That little boy never had a face that looked at him with anything but pure love. Wouldn't this world be a better place if we all looked at each other like that?
Kelli took the stage, with Zach standing behind her, always supporting her, always being her quiet strength, along with Hoss, Kannon's service dog (who is literally a person, I've never met a smarter dog in my entire life), and she walked us through the incredible journey that was Kannon.
I can promise you, there wasn't one dry eye in that church. Nor were there very many empty seats. Hundreds and hundreds of people, that love and adore and admire and grieve with the Fosters, were there to stand witness to a life well lived, a life that touched all of ours profoundly.
Kannon hooked you and brought you in. His eyelashes were miles long. MILES. His blue eyes looked straight to your heart. I like to think that he conversed with me, me forever talking to him in my high squeaky baby talk grandma voice, that I talk to all my grandbabies with, and him growling and yelling back at me, I am certain, insulted by my treating him like a baby. I didn't care. He will always be my baby, and I just adored everything about him. It seems wrong talking about him in past tense.
My girls and I helped Kelli and Zach at Kannon's golf tournaments, every year they had them, because to use Kelli's words, "No one sells Mulligans like the Deaton girls" and we did. I would act insulted and taken aback if I didn't sell at least $20 to everyone there and make them buy at least $25 worth of raffle tickets each, also for the endless, amazing silent auction prizes donated for this precious little boy. I am not ashamed to admit, I was an all out hustler when it came to my Kannonball. This year's responsibilities kept me from helping, and that will be my regret to carry for a long time.
Personal PTSD reared it's ugly, ugly head when I heard the news, and I wallowed in self pity and shared sadness with them, for a good, solid hour before I was able to pull myself together enough to even text and reach out to Kelli. Lacey said the best thing, "Focus on helping instead of hurting" and the wise words got me through.
It was hard, gazing at that tiny white casket holding the body of my little friend. I flashed back eight years earlier, thinking of another small baby, laying in the same casket and tears flooded my face. How precious the reunion in heaven, with his grandma Jan, waiting with open arms, and joining Laynie to run and play....free from earthly confines. On the hardest of days, that's all you can hold on to, when the pain is so real. Seeing them run and run. That's what gets you through.
That, and all the memories. They shared hundreds of photos and what a LIFE Kannon had. So many special times, every day etched in a memory bank. Fishing, airplane rides, Disney, Thunder, his love of spiderman, his love for his mom and dad, his grandma and grandpas, his sister and brother. So evident... so tangible.... so perfect.
He came to our adoption party in 2014 when we swam at Westwood in Norman, and Lacey didn't venture two feet away the entire time, we were so glad he (and his mama) were there with us.
Friends, life is tough. We are dealt hard things and it's in the broken times, when we lean not on our own understanding and let God steer our paths, that everything becomes clear. Many people raised their hands today at Kannon's celebration and accepted Jesus into their hearts and that is worth the pain. Kannon changed everyone that he came in contact with. His mom and dad, in their bravery and their willingness to share him and his story, impacted thousands of people.
We love our friends. We love God, and while we are grieving the loss of our sweet Kannon, the hope of heaven and seeing him again is real. I thank God for this reality. I thank God for Kannon and his family, their love of him and their faith and willingness to be God's hand and feet showed through Kannon's whole life.
We most likely won't see another Kannon in any of our lives. He was #4 in 2 billion. We witnessed something profound and changing.
They played Micah Tyler's song, "Different" today and the words were perfect.
Be different. Let Kannon's Life and Laynie's life, stir something inside of you, and be different. Different is where the good stuff begins.
I was so thrilled when you were born. All 9 lbs 9 oz and 22 inches long of pure perfection. You arrived at 7:15 pm in the evening.
You already were questioning me, even as a newborn. Mom, what's for dinner? And can it be chocolate?
Your siblings adored you, worshiped you, and dressed you up in all kinds of fun outfits....never a dull moment for them...or you.
You were a very good sport, and even at a very young age, knew you were destined to entertain a crowd. At 3 years old, you put on a show at the pom camp Lacey was attending, and ended up the mascot her senior year. You never made it through the pre-show, but you sure looked cute.
You have always been a lover of all things junk and chocolate and sugar, and never was embarrassed to fly that sugar flag high.
I think this is why your legs grew to such unimaginable lengths. All. that. sugar.
At first we were going to make you a dancer. And after a couple of years of that, we decided that might not be the best thing....for you, or us. :) But, as always, you looked adorable doing your thing.
Then you discovered music, and you were never, ever found in the evenings without a guitar or ukulele in your hand. Hannah Montana was new to the scene and you were determined to be the next pop star of the century. I really think you might have pulled it off.
You took to the stage at the Oklahoma Arts Festival and we couldn't have been more proud of you! Middle school dream of a pop star .....emerging.....
Then you found volleyball. And I remember quite clearly the conversation we had, when you were trying to decide if you wanted to play volleyball or pursue your music. I was team hallie, and was ready to support whichever you decided. I told you that you could "Be a volleyball player that loves to play music" or become a "musician who plays volleyball for fun" because being stellar in both would take so much time. And you decided, all on your own, that you would play volleyball and just enjoy music.
And boy, did you do both well.
And now, here you are 20 years old and a 2nd year cadet at WEST POINT. WOW. Who knew that much sugar consumption by a toddler would create such magnificent results? Dressing her in Nike headbands and John Lennon glasses? Who KNEW?
She's now a volleyball player (when she's not concussed, that's a whole 'nother blog)
(And yes, I totally screenshot a snapchat...breaking all laws of snapchat land. Sue me, I'm a mom looking for crumbs)
..... that still loves to make music, when she has a spare minute. This was at the library at West Point, on the grand piano. She hangs out there a lot. That makes me happy.
Hallie, I am so proud of you. You are 20 years old, and have already achieved more and conquered more than people twice your age. You are a wonder, and a scholar (YOU ARE) and I'm proud that you're mine.
SO, in keeping with the whole SUGAR is our friend theme, of course, your sisters and I sent you a COOKIE, and we do love you, even though I'm pretty sure we have never called you "Hail" (except for that one time in target when you were a tiny tiny baby and I called you "Hailey" and Lacey almost lost it, forgive me.. I was old and had just given birth to a toddler and should not have been allowed in public yet)
So Hail. We love you. We adore you. We crazy as heck about you, girl. So welcome to your 20's, kid. The best is yet to come.
Just got an email from my new bestie, Linda Catania at OCS, my new favorite school in the universe of america.
I dropped by her office to visit with her this morning after I went into the office to work on Gina bo Bina's schedule.
Let me just tell you.
I have never been around more educators that are dedicated to helping children. It's something I have never experienced during the three children I raised and grew up. I mean, there were good teachers, but there were really more bad than good and I have to tell you....NOTHING but positive experiences going into week 3 of OCS.
Gina came off an IEP, and she has been working independently at her last public schools (with just a few co-taught classes in math, bless her, she is like her mama) and at OCS they have a Lab class that basically helps them with all the classes. If you are from SHS and graduated with me, think of Jan Frichot. She would have taught this class.
So after some schedule shuffling, we got bo bina into the Lab (i call it the LAB OF SUCCESS) and she is going to rock and roll. The basketball coach is after her too, so she will be playing some basketball and if you all remember the early days, she is full out exuberant in the playing, and I really cannot wait to see this.
Then I met with Steven's lab teacher, (I'm starting him in there this first year to help him gain more confidence with his reading and comprehension--remember these Vietnamese kids barely spoke english when I got them) and small world...she knew Lacey.....and Laynie. Now me.....and Steven...
We cried together over Laynie and bonded and it was just ALL THE FEELS, people.
Then that's when I hopped over to Linda Catania's office because I needed to go get signed up for payments for the lab. It costs for the year and I was happy to pay because of the HUGE BLESSING I had received from BILL JUNK just the week before in the form of the WHOLE TUITION PAID!
Behind the scene fact: When I tithed, day before, after getting paid, and it being woefully small (the check that is)...I just said, "Lord bless us" and gave my 10%. Always. Without fail. No matter how short I am, God always gets paid first. It's my rule I live and die by.
So.... I'm getting all the food I have out of the freezer to figure out the meals for the week (SSSTTTRREEETCCCCHHHIIINNNNGGGGG the food, lol) and my phone dings with an email.
Linda Catania has emailed me and told me that someone anonymously paid Steven's lab fee today, and now all I have is Gina's monthly payment.
WELL SLAP MY FACE AND CALL ME SHIRLEY.
I just started laughing and crying and snorting and it got ugly in a hurry.
It's just so much. to. take. in. sometimes.
Thank you Jesus for your mercy and abundant grace. This year is one for the record books.
