{Handing Over Perfection}

Today I will hand over my beautiful little boy to a surgeon.

I will stand back as they take him out of my view, out of the safety of my arms & let them patch the brokenness of his little body.

The last three months have been filled with a hurt, an ache for how my baby "should" be. I have wrestled with the imperfection of his tiny frame, trying to fix him, to will him into perfection with every ounce of me. How could there be anything wrong with my child that I could not fix?

How can there not be answers? How can I let this be? How can I fix this?

Everyone wants their child to have perfect health, to have a perfectly beautiful life filled with perfect experiences and perfect things. Why would anyone want anything less than the ideal for their child?

There are so many worse things that my child could be going through, much deeper waters with distant shores. I tell myself that so many times, but it doesn't ease the pain. It doesn't take away the yearning for how things should be.

And like a brick wall, I smack face to truth. I remember that I was never promised perfection. I was never promised a child whose body worked perfectly...in this life.

Someday, all things will be made right. Maybe it will be this side of heaven for Teddy, maybe it will not. I do not have the answers, but I do know that God has promised to make all things new. While we struggle with many forms of imperfection, disease, brokenness here, one day all the hurt will be taken away and beauty will rise from our ashes.

Although I wait for the day, yearn for the day when all things will be made right, the fact is I am still here in the muck wrestling with the why and struggling to release my little ideas of perfect.

My child's imperfection is out there in the open for people to see, but he really isn't so different from anyone else. Although his scars, his brokenness are on the outside, he is walking the same path of our shared human condition. We are all hobbling along, some of us hiding our imperfections deep inside, others, like Teddy, wear theirs on the outside where people can ask "what is wrong with your baby?"

Yes, it hurts. Yes, I hate it. But, YES, I have hope.

Is it a mistake that my baby was born this way? No. Although everything about him, about me, about us all is not going the way we planned, it doesn't make any of it a mistake. It doesn't make any of it fair or unfair or make any sense, because in our imperfection we are still fearfully & wonderfully made. We are on purpose.




"I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
    your works are wonderful,
    I know that full well." - Psalm 139:14


So, today, I hand over perfection. I hand over my wonderfully made child. I hand over my ideals and my dreams and the way everything "should" be. I let it all rest on Him. I let peace and His promises wash over me and praise Him for the good things He is doing and will do. His works are wonderful, every last detail and "imperfection." May these imperfections bring Him glory with every ounce of us that hobbles or wobbles or shatters. He is more. He is perfect. And one day, we will be too.

{When God Gives You More Than You Can Handle}

You've probably heard the saying, "God will never give you more than you can handle" and it probably came at a time when you felt like your life was swallowing you up whole, when the odds were stacked up against you and deep inside you wondered how you would keep it all together.



Yeah, that is my life. It has been my life for the past 3 years.

Pregnancy & birth of twin boys when my first son was barely 2
Hundreds of miles away from any family
A husband working full time by day and tackling grad school by night.
3 boys 4 and under & one on the way
A very sick child, who was later diagnosed with an autoimmune disorder.
The birth of our 4th son (4 kids 4 & under)
A new career path & adjustment for my husband (many late nights alone)
Months of fear & worry over a baby who wouldn't grow
10 days in the hospital with my 6 month old
Trying to fit a 2nd medically complex child into our crazy life

A story and challenges unique to me, but really, who doesn't have a crap ton of overwhelming stuff going on in their lives?


Guys, I am here to tell you, I have more than I can handle. And it's okay if you do too. You don't have to be supermom/dad, the master of multi-tasking, the keeper of a perfect home, a ladder-climbing achiever at your job, a perfect Christian, flawless friend,  & world dominating machine.


It's ok. We are all pretty weak and scared on the inside, wondering if anyone else can tell.


I can't do it. I can not keep it together on my own. I've worked so hard the past 3 years to keep these exterior walls of strength up around the parts of me that were crumbling on the inside.

I'm embracing my weakness. Embracing the fact that I can't do it all & that it is ok to let other people know that too.


Because, yes, God absolutely gives more than we can handle- every single one of us, whether we want to admit that or not.


It's easy to let our brains fall in the the bottomless pit of distractions at our fingertips, to let our minds be pulled this way & that, to let us forget about the things that ache deep in our souls, to let ourseleves be deceived into thinking the Pinterest dream is just around the corner & that we can get to a place where everything is just right. We can fool our selves pretty easily into thinking every thing is ok, bandaging our wounds for another day, keeping it together for everyone else.


Well, I say, STOP IT!


There isn't a person on this Earth who has it all together, has perfection figured out, has everything under control. Let's all stop pretending & telling each other we don't have more than we can handle. Because we do.

Although this all sounds rather depressing, there is hope. We were never asked to do this on our own. In the midst of our tangled up mess, God calls us to Him, to lay our burdens down, to let them rest on the shoulders of the One who can handle it all.


His yoke is easy & His burden is light.


Thank you Jesus.


Thank you for seeing me in my little, wobbly exterior, holding it all together around my tender soul. Thank you for loving me and letting me crumble and struggle and find You patiently waiting for me to see I needed more of You.


God's strength is made perfect in weakness. He wants our truest selves, he wants our little ragamuffin hearts, our potty mouths & sin stained lives. Because the beauty of God never shines brighter than when it is contrasted and perfected in weakness.


There is so much beauty in the mess. So much hope in the struggle. So much truth under our deception. None of us is really so different from the next, none of us can do it on our own, so let's stop pretending.


Friends, I've got more than I can handle...but, I'm not handling it anymore. And you don't have to either.

{He Already Knows}

It has been months since I have sat down to write, so many things have begun and ended and snuck onto the pages of my days.

A few nights ago, I woke up to the grunting of a hungry baby. The house was quite, except for he and I quietly rocking in the well loved rocker. His long eye lashes fluttered and I prayed to never forget this moment just as it was. 

And then, so gently, as it always is- the feather light whisper of a call to write it all down again, persevere it for the day when my boys can understand and together we can taste and see the goodness that was always with us. 

These are bone weary days. Fear has crept into my home, my heart. Uncertainty and worry threaten my steps daily. As I seek to keep my eyes focused on what is true and lasting, I am comforted by this: 

He already knows.

One of our little men has been fighting a quite, faceless battle in his little body for almost a year- one we can not see or give a name.

We have been blessed beyond measure with doctors who care deeply, refuse to give up and astound me with the depth of their knowledge and skill. But, even they can not call it by name right now. 

At times, the fear, the overwhelming hopeless pricks of the unknown bring me to my knees in worry, the tears burn hot on my cheeks and remind me of how fragile our human bodies are in this broken world. 

And then again,so softly the words brush my thoughts in the loneliness of the wee morning:

He already knows.

When as faulty, broken, arms flailing humans we search desperate for an answer, there is One greater than us, than this darkness creeping in, who knows. He sees the places we have not yet ventured. He knows us, created us bit by bit, and nothing is lost to Him. 

He knows, He knows, He knows...

As I press on into this new day, there is renewed hope, there is comfort in knowing that as we wonder through these dark days He sees us, He knows us, He gave himself for us so that even when we walk through the valley we can fear no evil. We rest in the promise that when every thing feels broken, we are safe in His arms.

Though our bodies may fail us, we know there is more. There is nothing that can separate us from His Love, the eternal parts of us can never be taken. Fear can not find us there, sickness can not taint that part of us, we are more, we are His. 

We are known and always have been, intimately by the One who sees and know it all- and loves us still. 

{4 Years}

Tomorrow my sweet boy, the one who made me "Mama" turns 4 years old. How is that possible?! 

My heart aches to see my baby become so grown up, but at the same time brims with joy at the sweet young man he is becoming every day. 

I knew motherhood would shake my heart and soul up in so many ways, but I never expected the intensity and depth of it all. 

It has brought out every fault and weakness in me and amplified it, but has also shown me a strength and love I never knew I was capable of.

Oh, sweet Judah. I love you more than you will ever know, you are an extension of me and an entire new world I don't understand- you are beauty and hope and genuine unrefined life, a sweet reflection of all that really matters in this life. 

On the day you were born you brought not just a new title to my name, but a new life and a new meaning. My life was no longer about me, it was a daily giving of self, a sacrifice and a call to be more than comfortable. 

You are a gift, my greatest calling, my sweet son who I will always put before  myself. You are precious and treasured, you are worth fighting for and worth every  single dream and desire I have given up to be your Mama. You are loved. 

Happy Birthday, my sweet, joy seeking, strong son- May you seek The Lord with all your heart, serve the weak, love deeply and find joy in every season of your life. I love you. 

{un-pinterestly perfect}

If you walked into our house today {or pretty much any day lately} you would be pleasantly {or unpleasantly} surprised.

There is nothing perfect or put together about our home or life right now.

We have a dishwasher that seems to be constantly filled with clean dishes awaiting a long, angry line of hard-crusted on food smeared dishes and utensils on the counter. The kitchen floor is {thankfully} dark colored stone, so you will never be shocked by how truly dirty it is. And please, if you don't mind, don't peek in the oven, ok? The poor thing smokes up every time we fire it up for another frozen pizza.

When you make your way through the dining room/pile everything here room your eyes will be overwhelmed by the broken pieces of crayons, unfinished art projects and random piles of my eBay sales that cover at least half the table.

And if you make it past all of that, the living room and toy room will swallow you whole :) The Christmas tree is currently the pinnacle of both of these rooms, bent limbs, broken ornaments and goofy tilt- it really is a sight to behold. Definetly not something I would pin on pinterest for your inspiration ;) But, it is perfect for our ragamuffin family.

For a long time I have used the imperfections of our home as reasons to not have a friend over or as an excuse to stay home and "pick up." But, if I keep using that one it will make for a very lonely next few years ;)

And it's not just the imperfections of my home, but those insecurities of how that defines me. If my home is not always clean, decorations not perfect and updated, furniture free of stains....what does that say about the kind of mom or person I am? Well, truthfully not much.

And I forget that. I forget that none of that matters and that looking beyond the imperfections and the messes in life is how you connect. It's real. It's in the mess and the hard stuff that life blooms. Life happens in our house, non-stop.

And all that description above is proof. It says raising kids is tough, it is all consuming and comes before everything else. It says, hey look, my life is just like yours. I can not keep up with the laundry, the cleaning, the looking fashionable and give my all to my kids. I can not keep my life and lay it down for another, it just doesn't work like that. Where there is a give, there is a take. Where there is imperfection, there is beauty.

My life will never be Pinterest perfect, and I'm okay with that. I'll take the real life mess over the false cover of perfection any day.

So, come on over, but watch where you step ;)

Invite someone over today, be spontaneous and forget about what "needs" to get done first- I promise you the gift of sharing your life "as is" will always outweigh any momentary "oohs and ahhs" over how clean or beautiful your home is.

{the winter blues}

A combination of the insanely cold Wisconsin weather & the little babe brewin' in the womb has turned me into some kind of hermit.

It was Wedneaday morning when I looked at my kids who were bouncing off the walls and going on their fourth day in pj all day mode that I realized an extreme case of winter blues had already set in.

Yuck. 

There are so many things I love about winter, but every year I seem to settle into an anti social mid winter slump. This year it consumed me much earlier and somewhat by surprise. The long days of pregnancy nausea had worn me down sooner than usual... And my poor kids had been dragged down with me.

I examined the mess that was our house...a sippy cup bomb trap, crusty banana goo on the rug, abandoned mini socks and enough toys to choke an elephant. Normally, I would use this mess as an excuse to not leave the house, but today I knew I had to leave it to it's own issues and get OUT and into the world despite feeling like the most sea sick ship mate of them all.

The kids eyes lit up like heaven had come to earth when I told them we were going grocery shopping. They were more than happy to get out of their footie jammies and into the last clean pair of clothes to their name ( did I mention we seriously have a mountain of laundry that nearly reaches the tips of my ears?!) No one even fussed at the act of getting strapped into their car seats, you know they have not left the house in ages when this happens.... Or when your three year old says "mom, we are the pirates who don't go anywhere!" Every five minutes while playing all day "ships and pirates."

As I cruised down the highway into the bustling city of Madiosn I started to question my sanity....was it really a good idea to take my 1 yr old twins and 3 yr old shopping by myself?! And as I pulled into the parking lot of the Co Op my hands started to sweat. I will say the act of getting everyone into the store was nothing short of miraculous, I will spare you to gorey details.

Once in the crowed, narrow isles of the Co Op, with one kid strapped to me, one in the cart and one wondering around willy-nilly I realized this could go either really well or really wrong. It was amazing how many wide eyed looks I got, how many people parted the way as we passed, and how much compassion was poured out on me with a few simple smiles and the picking up of produce that my children hurled. Being back out in the world of the living was like a big hug.

After we finished our assault on the isles of the grocery store we settled in to the cute little cafe area complete with a kids play area. We parked out there for nearly an hour. Even when tragedy seemed to have struck in the moment Judah announced he had to "pop turds"- a kind older lady offered to keep an eye on my massive mounds of grocerys and stuff so I could corral all three kids to the bathroom without causing obscene amounts of chaos. 

And that is how something as simple and terrifying as going to the grocery store mended my winter heart. If a case of the winter blues has already set in for you and it just feels easier to stay home, GET OUT! Get out and remind yourself that even in these cold days there is warmth in the company of even complete strangers. Life is moving and going despite the bleakness of the earth right now. It doesn't take much to refresh your soul in something simple and every day.

{And Baby Makes....6?!?!}

Turns out we like being tired, crazy exhausted and tested to our level of sanity ;) Yup, baby number 4 will be showing up on the scene sometime around July 9th ( which just so happens to be my best buds birthday!)

If you do the math right, that will leave us with 4 kids 4 and under in the blazing summer heat this summer :) That is one scenario I never imagined, but I think we are up for the job....

If you wondered or noticed I have been missing from the internet world lately, it is because our new little bean has been making me feel not so great. But, thankfully I think we are on the up swing of feeling yucky :) 

Oy, pregnancy can be beasty, but I believe ( based on past experieces) that it is worth it in 1000 bouts of nausea, headaches and general uncomfortableness :) I have been trying not to complain too much, but my dear husband has been very sweet and let me whine a fair amount. What a man.

The boys are beyond thrilled and Judah has already chosen the beautiful, gender neutral name of Rocket Johson for the babe to be. So sweet. And little Will has been marching around the house with his baby doll in his backpack for days. Ry on the other hand is not so sure he wants to share his mama yet, he keeps saying to my  tummy " no baby." Hahah! 

And yes, I know you are thinking " I bet you are hoping this one is a girl!"- but, no I  am actually terrified of a girl. What do you do with a daughter?! I have no clue. I forgot how to play girly stuff in all these years of trucks and smashing things. Whatever we have will be awesome and challenging in it's own way....can you imagine four boys under four?! This is shaping up to be terrifying whichever way you look at it :)

A few pictures of our lil' kumquat ( baby's size fruit equivalency right now!)