It Is Well

So, needless to say, I have learned alot through these past 2 years with our Eli. I named Eli Eli not because we just loved the name (although now we do), but because Eli means "lift up as an offering." I didn't know just how much we would have to "lift up" Eli. From the moment we brought him home from the hospital we have been on our knees. First it was a scare that he might have strep B, (a very deadly bacteria) and within 10 minutes of being home with him, the hospital called us back for blood testing. I never felt fear like that. We had to wait 4 days for the results. I cried alot those few days. Thankfully, he tested negative. He was a fussy baby over the first 6 months or more. He had thrush for 9 months that nothing could fix until he was old enough to get a stronger medication. At 2 months he developed a mastocytoma on his leg. One of these was okay, but if he developed another we would have a lifetime of miserable medical problems. The Dr.'s said that if he didn't develop anymore by 2 years old, we were in the clear and this one would eventually go away. At 6 months he got a flu shot, and developed a horrible cough that lasted for months. He sounded like he had cystic fibrosis. We found at 6 months later that he was highly allergic to egg. The flu shot is made from egg. We now understand the cough. At 9 months old, Eli developed patchy rashes all over his trunk, legs and arms as well as eczema on his extremities. And here we are over a year later with no answers. We thought we had them so many times, but eventually we were always back to square 1. Well, you all know the rest.


What I am beginning to see is just how much Eli's affliction has brought both Kevin and I to a deeper and more intimate relationship with our Lord. This past week in Florida, KEvin and I decided to literally write our sorrow in the sand. I wrote a big fat ECZEMA first, and watched as the waves eventually washed every letter away. We let go. WE cried together and held on to eachother, knowing that we may not have the answers right now, but we have a Saviour who we can cling to in times of trial. We have a Saviour who longs for us to know Him, love Him and HOLD ON TO HIM. Because God does not promise that we won't face trials, in fact HE says, "Consider it pure joy whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know the testing of your faith develops perserverence." (James 1:2-3) And "These come so that your faith--of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire--may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed."

(I Peter 1:7)

So, when there are days like some

of the days we had in Florida:

I chose to CLING to my Father, like Eli does:

"My soul clings to you;

your right hand upholds me." (Psalm 63:8)

When we do that, there really is inexpressible and TRUE JOY.

The Other Side of the Seaweed

I could list so many things about what Alexis has taught me. When I was pregnant with her, my first child, I thought I had this whole parenting thing figured out. I always loved kids and they usually liked me, and I also had read a few parenting books--so I thought it would be a breeze. I was in need of some humbling, you might say.

But, what I believe Alexis has been teaching me lately is a little bit about my own relationship with God. After spending time with Alexis this week, the Lord revealed, clearly, what He wanted me to learn.


The beach here has a line of dead sea weed right up to where the sand meets the water.



Alexis can't bring herself to go through it. Not only is she afraid of the seaweed, the ocean scares her to death. Alexis has alot of fears, mostly when it comes to the unknown. New experiences are quite intimidating to her. If she is not familiar with it, she won't go near it. So, all week long she has stayed "safely" near the umbrella up beyond the seaweed. Yesterday, as I was thinking about this on the beach, I thought about my own fears of the water. I don't like the ocean because I don't know what is out there. I don't like the salty taste, or the seaweed at my feet, or the thought of jellyfish around me, or strong undertow's dragging me, and it so cold. I stay on the sand and enjoy looking at the ocean, which is so beautiful and mysterious. My fear may not be as announced as Alexis', but it is there and it is fear. And there is the big picture. I can stay on the shore, where it is safe, pretty, and I don't have to get hurt, or I can go through the sea weed (which is where I have been lately) and give myself fully over to the Lord--vulnerable to the unknown, trusting in Him with every step. Getting there can be ugly, it can be scary, it can hurt (alot), because it involves breaking down the flesh and the will. But I want more, I want the ocean. I have been caught in this place between holding on and full abandon for too long. As Alexis was playing under the umbrella, she kept saying "I am bored." Of course she was, the rest of the kids were making sand castles past the seaweed or with their dads in the ocean jumping the waves. Safe is boring. I want more, I want the ocean. "But, what about the undertow, Lord? I am not strong enough." And he says to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." (2 cor. 12:9) "But, Lord, I am afraid of what is out there, I could get hurt." And He says to me, "I am the stronghold of your life--whom shall you fear?" (Psalm 27:1) "But, Lord, I am not a good swimmer." And He says to me, "Fix your eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith." (Hebrews 12:2).









So, I stepped out, by myself, and walked till the waves covered me. And you know what? I laughed in complete joy. I felt like a child. "Taste and see that the Lord is good." (psalm 34:8)

I want the ocean. Even if it means leaving the comfort of the warm sand behind, I want the Ocean. I want to be called a friend of God, not just a bystander. That is just boring. I want the Ocean. It means surrender, it means submission, it means being vulnerable, and it means immersion. But, I want the ocean. "I came that they may have life and have it abundantly." (John 10:10)


Thank you, Alexis, for teaching me about myself and about our Creator. One day, He will give you the courage to go beyond that sea weed and you, too, will be free to live the abundant life that HE promises. In His time.

I See You

I decided before I came to Florida to make a point to spend time with each of my kids individually--it was a great time to do it. I want to "see" them and learn from them, because I recently have been learning that God gives us children not just for us to teach and train, but also he gives us children with different personalities and gifts to teach us something. Aaron and I spent alot of time together the other day. We walked on the beach and gathered sea shells, we spent time in the ocean at evening, when the water was wonderfully calm, and saw crabs and fish, we raced, we talked, and we snuggled. He is my middle and sometimes I know he feels pushed out. But what I want him to know is that I do see him. He has taught me alot about taking my time. He makes me slow down, because he doesn't want to miss a thing. When I tell him to hurry, he gets defeated and irritable, because it goes against his nature. And once upon a time I was just like that!!! In fact, I still get irritable when I am rushed. All Aaron wants is time. Time to look at all the details--every picture in the book, every marble lined neatly, every piece of skin covered up by the sand--making sure to not leave anything out. I see you Aaron, you do not go unnoticed, even when it feels like I am not paying attention, God gives me His eyes to see you. You will never be left out.
Aaron has loved the ocean, I knew he would. He has been a joy to watch this week.

Cousins, Color and the Commons

Kevin and I took the 4 older cousins to the Destin Commons center for a change of scenery yesterday. We had a blast!! All of the cousins were born within 6 months of eachother (each set , I mean). They are great buddies. We enjoyed the sprinklers, bubblegum, shaved ice, and play area. Our kids do not lack color!! They is never a dull moment! I thought these colorful pictures really showed the fun we had!! It was great to get to know our nephews even more!!!

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Letting Go

I am posting from the balcony of our condo that overlooks the ocean. It is quite beautiful and feels so wonderful. Kevin's parents were gracious enough to take their two son's families to Destin for a week. We got down here Saturday night after about 15 hours in the car with 6 children under 7. They were so great!!! I think the adults said "are we there yet?" before we ever heard it from our kids. Thank you little ones, you were real troopers!!! Well, it was worth the 15 long hours to gaze upon this sight even for a moment.

We came not knowing what to expect with Eli. Hoping the salt water would be great, but worried how the sand would agitate his wounds. We came prepared. One thing we don't want is to ever make Eli feel like he is 'handicapped" by his ailments. Yet, we do have to protect to some degree. It's a fine line.

After a heavy couple of months, we came here to let go. When I say let go, I don't mean just to rest and leave our "troubles" behind, but to come and write our sorrows in the sand and let the Lord wash them away. Sometimes ( ok, alot of the time) I hold on too tightly. My fears and my worries drive me to control and I hold on so tightly that I grow heavy and overwhelmed. I want to fix it all. I want my boy to feel good, I want everyone to be well. But, you see, I can't fix it. So, what can I do? I can chose to admit that I can't do it, and that there are no "perfect"answers or solutions, and I can admit that I certainly don't have them if there were. And then, I can put my trust in the Lord and wait on Him. When I do that, release it all, I can begin to experience the joy I long for. Even when things aren't going so well. For His "yoke is easy and His burden is light." (Mt 11:30) Like today, for instance, when my boys body is covered in rashes, I can put him in his daddy's arms and watch as Kevin lets the waves wash over Eli's little body, praying for relief with each wave and hearing HIM say, "This soon shall pass." Because it will.


I guess the change of scenery, especially here on the coast of a vast ocean, has been good to remind me of just how BIG He really is.