Basically I’m thirty-sixteen years old… 

Recently, I was shopping for butterfly headbands, cuz butterflies are my favorite. Somehow that turned into buying several chicken headbands, because I have a small obsession with chickens. My favorite headband has chickens and sunflowers, even though it doesn’t match anything I normally wear.

Last year, Duane gave me flower lego sets for Valentines (roses), Easter (tulips), and Mother’s Day (sunflowers). My favorite is the sunflowers.

A year ago, Ariasha found me in the garage picking seeds off an old sunflower, and asked, “let me get this straight, your friend grew sunflowers, and she gave you a dead one?” Yep, a sunflower head full of seeds to feed to our chickens. I also used those seeds to grow more sunflowers, because I like sunflowers.

When Duane and I were engaged, I was in a ladies Bible study group. They gave me some wedding gifts and a bouquet of wildflowers, including mini-sunflowers. These ladies who I had just met, thought giving me wildflowers seemed more fitting, then traditional flowers. I never would have thought of that, but 12 years later, I still remember that unique, wild beautiful bouquet, and I like it.

In the town where I grew up, every few years, as part of crop-rotation, local farmers would plant a whole field of sunflowers. It was beautiful! My high school senior photos were taken in one of those fields of sunflowers. 

Goggle says that Sunflowers symbolize: coming alive, warmth, restoration, resurrection, radiate happiness, and look on the bright side of things. A group of sunflowers symbolize loyalty (like a fiercely loyal enneagram six). Yep, sunflowers are the perfect favorite flower for me, especially in this season I am in.

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However, I am exhausted, and overwhelmed by all the screens and technology in newer cars. But it has been nice, NOT having to put the clutch in every time I stop and constantly thinking about what gear I’m in (that reduces anxiety and multi-tasking).

My conclusion is: I am capable of adapting to and tolerating anything. I’ve always just driven whatever is available- my parent’s mini-van, a car I was given, friend’s cars, 15 passenger van, beat-up pick-up truck. But for the past 12 years, I’ve only driven Duane’s Subaru. Now for the first time in my life, I get to chose! But I hate change, so just give me our old car back, life will return to normal, and I’ll resume complaining about how much I hate stick-shift. Basically I want my same car, but not stick-shift.

Some favorite quotes from various car salesmen:

“You can drive as fast as you want, as long as you pay the ticket.”

“You can’t scare me, I ride with people who test drive cars, the only thing worse is driving instructor.”

“That is not a center turning lane.”

Yes, I noticed cars coming straight towards me. I responded quickly and calmly veered back into my lane. I let the cars pass before making my left-hand turn. Then we continued on our way, as if hadn’t almost driven a new Bronco into a head-on collision with on-coming traffic.

But it seems like the type of situation where adrenaline should kick in. Or maybe my perception of “normal” adrenaline is actually over-reactive? Or maybe I have such bad adrenal fatigue that my adrenaline doesn’t kick in at all anymore. 

A friend asked what I’ve been doing to reduce anxiety – brain retraining therapy (Tomatis and Neurofeedback), and 3 years of inner healing work / counseling – Souls Like Stars, Reclaiming your Story with Wyndi Nelson, Soul Care with Allison Zimmerman, and Emerge Intensive at The Stirring… and probably some other things I’m not thinking of

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Thank you!

The lady continued, asking, “what is her name?” …and… “oh, that’s so beautiful.”

I was having a lovely moment, appreciating the friendly reminder that most people think my daughter is adorable…

Because recently, I overheard the little boy say to his older sister, “that girl looks scary.” The children were maybe 4-8 years old. Their mom was right next to them, but busy on her phone. The boy said it a couple times, as his sister tried to hush him. I looked around to see who he was talking about. Then I realized he was looking at my daughter.

I realized this is a good teaching moment, although I’m not sure what to say to some random child, while his own parent was completely absorbed typing on her phone. Probably better that way. I would have felt bad if the mom was embarrassed and forced her son to apologize and turned it into a big awkward ordeal.

So I asked the little boy, “this girl?” Pointing to my daughter. 

The boy looked at me nervously, “yeah. She’s scary.” His big sister tried to hush him again.

I took a deep breath, and launched in, “she does not have cheek bones,” I explained, tapping my own cheeks, “so her face looks a bit different.” The boy shrugged and turned away, giving into his sister’s pleas and ducking behind his mom, ending our awkward conversation.

I’m not concerned about the opinion of one scared little boy,

because I know my daughter is super cute, and I believe that the majority of people agree with me. And it was lovely to have my opinion confirmed by this random lady at church today.

…But then she ruined my blissful moment with her next question,

“can I pray for her?”

Yep. That question. Again. We are at church after all. I do appreciate prayer, especially when my daughter was a baby and life was hard. But now she’s a perfectly happy, healthy little girl. So I was caught off guard and thinking, “why are you asking to pray for her?”

A million thoughts swirled through my head: What are you planning on asking God to do? For her to grow cheek bones? Or be able to hear? Do you even know those things on her headband are hearing aids? And she can hear great with them. Her Dad has TCS and hearing aids too, and he turned out just fine. He’s also been prayed for a billion times, but still hasn’t grown ears.

How many people are going to feel drawn to pray for my child just because she looks different?

Is my daughter going to feel loved and encouraged by all the prayers?

Or will she become annoyed by the attention, or disillusioned in her faith because she still hasn’t grown cheek bones?

Or will she start asking, “why doesn’t everyone just love me the way that I am? Why do they think I need cheek bones? Am I not good enough?”

My questions are rooted in my own childhood…

*read the following section with a hint a teenage sarcasm*

Growing up, my sister Hannah, was in a wheelchair. Our family lived on a Bible College campus, where my parents were on staff, so praying for Hannah was the trendy thing to do. We spent our entire childhood, hearing over and over, “can I pray for you?” And it just gets old. 

Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate prayer. I believe in the power of prayer. I have seen miracles. But as teenager, the whole, “lets pray for her again!” It gets annoying. 

One night at youth group, when Hannah was about 16 years old, a friend said, “lets pray for Hannah!” And I was thinking, “wow, so original” (I warned you about the sarcasm) “Here we go again.”

All the teens gathered around, praying heart-felt prayers. I prayed silently. I am pretty sure I have never told to anyone the incredibly faith-filled words I prayed that evening, something to the effect of, “God I am done. This is the last time I’m praying for her. You said in the Bible, that we could lay hands on people and see them be healed. So if you’re ever going to heal her, now would be a good time to do it. Cuz I am done.”  

That night at youth group, Hannah got out of her wheel chair and walked. 

When it came time to go home, everyone stayed, waited and watched as my mom arrived to pick us up. Mom opened the door, watching in shock as Hannah walked across the room to her. 

It was a powerful moment for everyone.

But I felt like a spectator, watching the events unfold around me. Maybe I was still in a bit of shock… I was not expecting today to be any different than the other million times we had prayed for Hannah.

In hindsight, that was a defining moment. 

I cannot fathom how different my life would be if God had NOT healed my sister that day. Thinking back, I wonder, if things had gone differently, where would I be today? What would I believe? Who would I have become? I don’t even know. I have never actually thought about that until writing it just now. This is the first time that I am fully aware of what a defining moment that event was for me. 

10+ years later, I fell in love with Duane.

Even though he looks “different” and a 50% chance our child would have facial differences, I was ok with that, thinking, “been there, done that. It’s no big deal.” Although that response changed, when our 2nd daughter actually was diagnosed with TCS. That hurt. Looking at my first-born daughter, thinking, “I’m sorry honey, this is not the childhood I would have chosen for you.” I was ok with the idea of being the mom to a child who had TCS, but it had not occurred to me that child might have a sibling, who did not have a choice in the matter.

Fortunately Big Sis enjoys all the cool toys they have in hospital waiting rooms, and says all the time, “my sister is so cute! I just love her!” Although Big Sis is jealous of Little Sister’s super cool hearing aids.

Fast-forward to now…

My little daughter’s 4th birthday, coinciding with the weekend when the local Bible College is back in session. The students are eager to pray for people, so a random lady at church asks, “can I pray for her?”

I know this will NOT be the last time we hear that question. I should probably figure out how to respond…

I suppose the question, “may I pray for her?” could be a roundabout way of asking for an explanation of TCS / hearing loss. As well as an opportunity for me to share specific prayer requests. My thought is to respond in such a way as to imply, “she’s a normal kid, and needs the same things any other child would.” Some sort of response which helps people realize we do not have any major concerns, so please do not feel “burdened” to “travail” in prayer for her.

I got some ideas from other Mamas of kids have facial differences and/or hearing loss:

“Come up with specific things your family wants prayers for – stuff like acceptance from others, being God’s light in the world, making new friends, help making some sort of goal she has set, or even if she is getting over a cold.” – Jenn Snow 

“Often people don’t know how to help, so they offer prayers. We appreciate these gestures because it means there is one more person praying for our son. We don’t pray for healing. We pray that he will love himself and know he is loved, that he will make friends easily, and that we make the best decisions for him. We have seen miracle after miracle in his little life, so we’re thankful for the prayers, even from strangers.” – Tara Glandon 

“Pray that he loves himself and feels the love we have for him, and that God has for him. Pray that people will be kind. Pray that the school system does not limit him. Pray that his surgeries go well, when he has them. And pray for me. Pray that I have an outlet for stress that’s healthy. Pray that I show him how to love the Lord with all his heart. Pray that I win the lotto so staying home with him isn’t so hard. (Joking.. not joking). Pray that I can appreciate the time I have at home with my boys. Pray for his brother. That he is strong, protective, independent, and loving. He’s already those things, but more can’t hurt. Pray for my husband. He supports us all on his own now. That’s no easy thing these days. Pray for faith and strength. Please don’t bother praying for him to get better. He is well and thriving. He is not sickly. He runs, plays, throws toys at his brother, and speaks 2 languages. (Sign Language and English) he also understands everything you say. So don’t act like something is wrong with him. He’s wonderful.” – Jennifer Spiegelberg

Thanks to those ideas, my prayer request would be:

For my daughter, please pray: that people will be kind. That they will see the beauty in her, and love her for who she is. That she will know she is loved and know she is beautiful. Pray that she would make friend easily have true friendship, not out of pity or obligation. Pray that she would continue to be a brave, bold little girl and to conquer any challenges which come up, and that she would inspire others to never give up. Pray that her life and our family would be a light and encouragement to other families.

The post That Question. Again… appeared first on The Baha Mama.

The first word which came to mind is: fearless.

After all, the top hindrance in a person’s life is fear. Fear of failure, fear of what others think, fear of getting hurt. Those fears hold people back from living their dreams. At the end of life, a person’s top regrets all have to do with fear.

But there can be wisdom behind a healthy fear.

To be fearful, is to never cross the road, out of fear of getting hit by a car. But to be fearless, is to run out in the middle of the road, without a care in the world. However, to be courageous, is to have a healthy fear of getting hit by car, but not let that fear keep me from crossing the street.

For me, to be courageous, is to face the fear of falling, take the leap of faith, and jump out of the safety of the nest. Then experience the exhilaration of discovering what it feels like to fly!

“Courage isn’t an absence of fear. It’s doing what you are afraid to do. It’s having the power to let go of the familiar and forge ahead into new territory.” – John Maxwell

“Courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear.” – Nelson Mandela

“Courage is being scared to death – and saddling up anyway.” – John Wayne

To be courageous, is to move forward in spite of fear

To be courageous, is choosing not the fear the waves, because my faith is in the one who is greater than the storm. Then, in obedience and faith, to get out of the boat, and dance on the waves.

Because that sounds Awesome!

“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:9

FYI – yesterday my daughter & I did art during our “quiet time” while listening to great music, including my current favorite song:

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 You never know how strong you are, until being strong is the only choice you have.

 That became my theme during my daughter’s surgery and recovery. It continued at a theme, with the discovery that my daughter needed hearing aids too. But I didn’t want to just be strong for myself and my daughter. I wanted to be a light in the darkness and bring hope to other families.

Then, when I couldn’t find a comfortable, affordable headband to hold my daughter’s hearing aid, I decided to become the solution which I was seeking.

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. 

Or, in this case: when life gives you a hearing aid, start making headbands. I chose to be strong, investing time and money, in spite of the risk of failure. 

Through that I discovered the joy of bringing light and hope to other families, by providing cute, comfortable, affordable headbands which our children love to wear!

Turning a fun hobby into a successful business also led to a Shift in my Confidence. 

So, in hind-sight, my theme for the past couple years has been something like: 

When life gives you lemons, choose to be light in the darkness. Make lemonade to give hope to others. In the process, you will discover just how strong you really are. 

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During our Retreat weekend, Duane led us through “The Best Year Ever” course by Michael Hyatt. We took time to reflect on the past year, appreciate how much we had learned and grown, and let go of the disappointments. Then we began to dream again and set goals in order to make 2016 our best year ever.

Up until our retreat, I had been deep in survival mode. Adjusting to parenting two kids, and the extra challenges Lioness’s cleft palate presented. All the while, I was incredibly thankful her Treacher Collins Syndrome was so mild.

During our retreat, I took time to reflect on the past season. I realized just because it wasn’t as bad as it could have been, doesn’t negate the fact the past several months had been really tough. I was finally able to face the disappointments, grieve the losses, and gain the strength to keep going. You can read the full story in my blog post titled: “It Could Be Worse.” That was one of several blogs which I wrote earlier this year.

During our retreat, one of the goals I set, was to blog 50 stories this year (roughly 1 per week). Quick before I forgot, I wanted to write (and share) cute stories of things Monkey did or said, and the challenges and victories in Lioness’s journey. Knowing our stories would encourage and inspire others and hopefully make them laugh. At the very least, the written memories would be fun for our family to look back on and remind us of how God so faithfully and lovingly cares for His children.

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I agreed with the truths in the book until the chapter called something like “I get to decide how many kids I’m going to have.” Apparently, the author (who is not married and doesn’t have any kids) thinks any form of birth control isn’t Biblical.

I do know several families who “trust God and see what happens.” They all have lots of kids. God created man and woman and said, “be fruitful and multiply” and well, that’s what happens.

But there are some people who probably shouldn’t have had kids in the first place. If you’re not being a good parent to the kids you have, you should probably stop having kids. Even if you’re a great parent, but you think having more would be too much. It is entirely up to you to decide how many kids is enough.

In our Bible study discussion, women shared how convicted they felt as they read the chapter. They had decided how many kids they wanted to have, and then they stopped. They never thought to ask God how many kids He wanted to give them. Biblical or not, it seems to be the American cultural norm. To only have as many kids as you want to have, or think you can handle.

Apparently the “perfect” family consists of one boy and one girl. If you have two kids of the same gender, people ask “are you going to try again for a boy (or girl).” As if child #2 was the wrong gender. Which makes me feel really bad for child #3 and #4 if they continue to be the same gender as #1 and #2.

If you’re going to have two kids, it seems more sensible to be the same gender. So they can be roommates and wear hand-me-downs. But people have this idea that unless you have at least one kid of each gender, you are missing out on some aspect of life or parenting.

For us, the perfect family is two daughters, because that is what God gave us, and He knows what is perfect for us!

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By 39 weeks, I began to wonder if she was ever going to come out. I was so done with being pregnant, and eager to meet my daughter, but scared.

As long as she is inside she is safe and happy. Everything is ok. Everything seems “normal.” But once she is born everything changes.

I went into labor with mixed feelings.

Each contraction bringing us closer to birth. To the moment we find out.

With each push, wondering: Will she be ok? How bad is it? How long will we have to stay in the NICU?

Feeling intense pain, stretching, pulling.

Her head is out, but all is silent.

My heart drops. Time stands still.

Another contraction, the baby is born.

Labor is over! But is she going to be ok?

Suddenly, a screaming, squirming baby is placed in my arms.

Is this really my baby?

She is ok? She is breathing?

She is really ok. I get to hold her.

Are you sure she is ok?

It’s always a special moment when that new baby is placed in Mama’s arms. It’s the “normal” birth experience I took for granted the first time around. When I didn’t expect to be able hold the baby, but then everything is ok. That moment is a million times more special.

I felt that same overwhelming love every morning walking into the NICU, and seeing my precious baby. Everyday filled with amazement and thankfulness for the miracle of our daughter.

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A light came into the NICU on Day 4.

It was 4pm on Friday afternoon, and I was hungry. I went out to the NICU waiting room to eat dinner, because we are not allowed to eat in the NICU. The waiting room was silent. A couple sat on the couch off to one side looking exhausted. There was a young lady in the corner eating dinner and staring at the TV. At the table in the middle of the room, sat a Latino mom who I had met earlier that day. I sat with her, and quietly asked, “how is your baby doing?” She responded in broken English, then the couple on the couch said something to us. The girl in the corner turned around and joined in, as we realized the one thing we all have common: a baby in the NICU.

The couple said, “we’re probably not going to remember everyone’s name, but what’s your name and your baby’s name?” We went around saying names and then suddenly we were taking turns sharing our stories and asking questions. The girl in the corner who had appeared to be so depressed, came alive realizing she and the wife had similar birth stories and complications. The couple shared how their baby had lots of issues in their hospital and had to be transferred to Portland. Upon arrival, the same tests were done with much better results. The doctors were shocked. The couple said, “She is our miracle baby. Be encouraged, whatever your situation is, God does miracles.”

That’s the moment the light came in, and I remembered I’m supposed to be a light in the NICU too. So I agreed, “He sure does!” and shared a bit of our story.

After a wonderful bonding time, we all left the waiting room together and returned to our babies. A light had come into the NICU and I was ready to be a light too.

After that Duane & I started having fun making faces at camera when we asked the nurses to let us into the NICU. I was intentional about talking to anyone who was in the NICU waiting room, hearing their story and sharing our miracle.

I soon discovered it was also the waiting room for “normal” labor and delivery. The “normal” people would feel sorry for me, realizing our baby is in the NICU. So I had the opportunity to encourage them with our story of how we didn’t know if our baby would be able to breath when she was born, and expected her to be whisked away and possibly need surgery. Instead she came out screaming and was doing so much better than we expected, because God does miracles!

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My story is the opposite.

I had a couple months mentally preparing for my baby to be whisked away. I came to the City ready to stay in the Ronald McDonald House for as long as my baby is in the NICU.

If Lioness had moved her hands out of the way so we could clearly see her jaw on the ultrasounds, I think the doctors would have been a lot more concerned about her ability to breath. They probably would have wanted to induce me so she would be born during the day, with all the right doctors there. Instead I was able to go into labor on my own and have a completely natural birth.

During labor, as I pushed out her head, I heard nothing. Pushed again, still silence. Duane told me that once her head was out, I wasn’t able to push hard enough to get her shoulders out, so they pulled her out. She is going to need to go to the chiropractor!

Time stopped. The silence confirmed she wasn’t breathing. I was thankful we had a whole team doctors in the room waiting to do whatever necessary to get her breathing. I hoped they really could keep her alive.

Suddenly she was screaming. A squirming baby was placed in my arms. I was shocked and confused. Overwhelming emotions. Shaking and crying. She’s breathing. She’s ok. She’s really breathing. I could not even wrap my mind around it. I am holding my baby. I got to hold my baby. She is ok.

Looking at her beautiful little face, her perfectly formed ears. Noticing cute little indents below her eyes, just like Dada’s missing cheek bones, but even smaller. Her tiny lower jaw. So small I had to wonder, “how is she breathing?”

Then they did take her so the breathing team could check her and then they gave her back to me. She had lots of skin-to-skin time as we tried nursing. At some point the took her again to weigh her and do all the normal newborn things. Then they gave her back to me again! Monkey & Grandma came to see her in labor and delivery. I don’t think family normally is even allowed to visit until mama & baby are moved to their hospital room. I had from 3:08 pm until 7pm, with her in our arms, enjoying the miracle of our little “breath of life”, while the doctors decided if she even needed to go to NICU.

As Duane has said, “you let them take the kid to the NICU to observe her overnight, and you don’t get her back.” Maybe they knew all along she would need to stay in the NICU for a while. They just made it a very gentle version of being whisked away.

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