These children, this season: our homeschool journey

I was in public school until fourth grade.

It was okay... actually, no it wasn't. Long story short, I didn't have a great experience. And as my mom watched me decline she prayed over me, in that season, to see what the Lord might be calling her to do. In an early 90's world, homeschooling was pretty foreign to most people but she made the plunge. To make a long story short, I thrived. It was exactly what I needed and I never went back.

Years later, as a high school junior, I met my husband. He had just graduated but he was also a homeschooler since 6th grade. And because we both loved it, we agreed early on (like, while we were dating) that we wanted to homeschool our children.

But life happened; things don't go exactly as you had visioned. We got married, had kids (a lot of them) and we didn't homeschool them. We prayed over each child in each season of our lives to see what the Lord might be calling us to do. And for many years, some of our kids went to our church private school Grace Christian Academy, which we adored. Those people became family to us. And some of our kids went to public school, Chapmans Retreat, which we also loved. And those people became family to us. We knew that each of the kids were where they should be.

Since our move to Knoxville, we've had to adjust. Again praying over each child for this new season of our lives to see what the Lord might be calling us to do. Currently we have 3 in public school and 3 at home.

I have to say-- we love our public school here. It happens to be the same elementary school where we are meeting for church on Sundays. I know this is where we are to be for such a time as this. The faculty is precious and we are so grateful to be partnering with this school in education and for the use of their facility! Mabry spent 1/2 of first grade there and we knew that the Lord was calling us to bring her home. And we obeyed. Micah, Abby and Kate are each doing really well there and we feel like it's a good fit. Each child, each season...

Let me stop and make clear what I'm not saying: I'm not saying I think it's ok to bounce our kids back and forth, pulling them in and out of schools. I don't mean literal seasons (obviously), I mean seasons of life. Life happens, things change, people move, kids grow. Maybe one school option always fits. Or maybe something happens and it needs to change.

I'm also not saying that it only depends on the child's needs. I think if the Lord is truly calling us to something, it'll be a good fit for the child, for the parent, for the siblings. When we felt the Lord nudging us to pull Mabry out, it was a natural fit because I was already homeschooling 2 other kids. Or next year, I'm pretty certain we'll continue to keep Kate in public school because she's doing well there and because she'll still have Abby going with her. (Micah will move to middle school next year.) We'll see after that. Each child, each season.

~~~

Homeschooling has been a huge adjustment for me. I had grown very used to my quiet hours during the day with all the kids in school. I could clean the house in peace, take my time with errands, and I actually enjoyed the beautiful drive to pick up the kids. But I was willing to give all that up because I knew it was the right thing. And there is so much new in our lives anyway, homeschooling would just be a part of our new Knoxville life.

I actually assumed it would come naturally because I was a homeschool student. Well. It didn't. Even now, over a year in, I'm still adjusting. I'm thankful for my mom, mother in law, and homeschool community to remind me... "you will always adjust." Our home school grows as our children grow. As I grow.

We decided to join a Classical Conversations community this school year. I'll tell you what, it's been one of the best decisions we could have made. The accountability and community, the tutors and curriculum.... it's everything I didn't know I needed.

In our first semester at CC, I proceeded with caution. Checking things out, weighing and vetting to see if this would be a fit for us. The more I saw, the more I liked it. I didn't want to let myself (or the kids) become overwhelmed with this new-to-us program so we did all the work that we could at a pace that worked for us. I didn't push for perfection. (No memory masters for us this year.) ;) I knew that this could be a marathon and not a sprint so I didn't want to wear out in the first half because of our lack of prior training.

Over Christmas break, I did some evaluating. Things were going well, the kids were learning a TON and I was amazed at their progress! But we needed more traction under our tennis shoes so I made better tools to help us through the day. No doubt we'll tweak these things as we go, but for now, there are some things I've updated that are helping so much.

Also, (and this is a huge part) by the end of the first semester, I felt more comfortable in our school day. Having a better handle on what our work load looked like gave me a foundation for building better schedules and such.

Before this school year, I never really knew anything about classical education but it has been amazing to see what my kids have learned-- and how they've learned it! Here I am, mid-March and I can say to you: I have so much peace (excitement even) about the rest of this year and even next school year. This weekend I'm headed to a homeschool convention, which I'm hoping will be full of encouragement and great tips! I'm definitely excited about the time spent with friends.

I was talking with a friend the other night and I had to be honest with her and with myself. A few months ago, if we could afford private school, I'd put all the kids there. But now... even if we could do that, I don't think I would. I've truly grown to love homeschooling my children. It feels right and it fits. Of course it isn't always easy. We'll continue to grow and change things like schedules, curriculum and *ahem* attitudes.

I don't remember how I felt as a fourth grader beginning my homeschool journey. But here I am again... I think its bringing me to life. Our kids are thriving, and unexpectedly, I think I'm thriving!

~~~

Jake and I will continue to pray over each child in each season, to see what the Lord might be calling us to do. And for as long as He has us homeschooling, I want to do and be the best that I can, as unto Him. Believing that He who calls me is faithful.

Fire

Last year when we had our 10 year anniversary pictures taken, someone mentioned, " Wow, that's a lot of kissin' pictures." 


Well.

That's how we roll. ;)

Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth, for your love is better than wine. Song of Solomon 1:2 

Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm; for love is as strong as death, jealousy as cruel as the grave; it's flames are flames of fire, a most vehement flame. Song of Solomon 8:6

Tonight is Valentines night and my favorite kisser is gone. I'm feeling a little poetic.... Where has your beloved gone oh fairest among women? Song of Solomon 6:1

Actually...  I'm poetic now. But I wasn't a couple hours ago. I was cleaning cut-up hot dogs off the floor, chasing down toddlers to put them in bed, and yelling at my kids for sneaking more candy teaching the children why eating their weight in pixie stix, fun dip and blow pops is bad for their sweet little bodies. ;) This is what my Valentines Dinner looked like.

Me and all my cute, wiggly, loud ;) children.


So yeah, where has my lover gone???


He's at a Bible Study. Ministering to college kids.

And something struck me this afternoon as I watched him in the living room. My hunk of a husband, studying his notes, preparing to share.... The Word is like a burning fire shut up in his bones. (Jeremiah 20:9) He is ever seeking to make disciples of men. His heart is to make the scripture clear so that people see Christ and fall in love with Him just as he has. And what struck me is that seeing him study-- doing what he's called to do-- is way more attractive than seeing him over the most romantic of dinners. I mean, yes, we'll do that next week. It's good and right and we will. I want to. But this.

I snuck this picture of him while he was going over his notes and scriptures.

This is what handsome looks like. This is a Godly man. I prayed for this. I'm so glad that the head of my family, the head of my house is this man.

I think I fell deeper in love with him today. Not just because of the fiery, vehement flame of our love... but because of the burning fire in his bones. 

"...there is in my heart a burning fire shut up in my bones, and I am weary with holding it in, and I cannot." Jeremiah 20:9

Father thank you for my husband. Thank you for honoring the prayers I've prayed for him since long before I met him. Continue to do the good work you started in him. And may the fire in his bones spread to mine. Lord You are and always will be my first love. 

Love One Another

Hello little blog. We haven't had much time together this past year. I long to update you and fill you with all the stories of life lived, so that someday I can come back and read them... and remember. But this year has been a different one. My life, a different one.

I've been thinking and reflecting a lot about the last year. And doing a lot of dreaming about the one ahead.

January marked one year in Knoxville. We are no longer settling in. We're here, settled. We're living our lives.

One year ago we packed up our lives and we moved here not just to start a church... but to be the church in a new community. We came to push up our sleeves, to love well and to serve however we can.

I'm really not sure what I expected to find in return. I don't think I had any expectations actually. But what we've found... is home.

Knoxville is my home. The people that the Lord has brought together here are family. Eternal family. Fellow lovers of Jesus. Sojourners to walk with as we link arm in arm through this fragile, precious life on earth. An incredible fellowship of believers that has loved us and loved one another so well.

My perspective of this grafting of family is far more awe-inspiring than I could possibly describe with words. It's nothing short of Holy. I've watched as the Lord has drawn (and is continuing to draw) these precious people into this body of believers in the most incredible ways. And I've watched as they pull together to meet the physical and spiritual needs of one another and of the community.

Like renovating a friend's dance studio when she needs help,

pulling together to take meals to neighbors with a new baby and no family in town,

rejoicing together over engagements and weddings,

praying over the phone for each others children,

gathering at the lake loaded down with kayaks, coolers, kids and dogs,

sitting on back patios way too late, laughing so hard we can't breathe,

talking about the gifts of the Holy Spirit over cheeseburgers and shared fries,

helping with moves across town,

emergency room visits and group texts with updates,

walking along side friends who's loved ones transitioned to heaven,

and SO much more.

It brings me to my knees in awe of a great God who loves His children and wants to show us His love. And His vehicle to show us that love? One another.

Don't get me wrong. It hasn't been a cake walk. It's been hard. People are messy. I'm messy. Life is messy. And complicated. This time here has not been without its growing pains and learning curves. But this side of heaven, those things are unavoidable. And we choose to push through it. To drop offenses, to humble ourselves, and to love well. We choose to walk with one another through the messy and muddy. Like Jesus did. Like Jesus does.

Our precious church is growing and thriving. Grace Chapel Knoxville has become a family of believers, loving and encouraging one another. One of Jake's first series' was called "Life Together" we. are. living it! We lived a lot of life together last year! Our hearts have been and are being knit together in ways we never could have foreseen. Life is better lived together. 

What a wonderful day when we can all be together in Heaven, finally, gloriously, home.

But until then, our home on earth is wherever God takes us... acting justly, loving mercy, walking humbly... breaking bread in our homes, sharing our faith with the lost, and making disciples of Jesus. Doing it all together.

Its not just something to hear of, read about or long for. It can be done. It might will be messy, but it's so worth it to love one another.

The God who made the world and everything in it, being Lord of heaven and earth, does not live in temples made by man...  Acts 17:24 

Jesus answered him, “If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him. John 14:23

And day by day, attending the temple together and breaking bread in their homes, they received their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having favor with all the people. And the Lord added to their number day by day those who were being saved. Acts 2:46

By this all people will know you are my disciples, if you have love for one another. John 13:35

Strands of Grace: Abby's Birth Story

Abby is the reason I started this blog. Plain and simple. When she was born, I was a young mom in a pre-facebook/instagram/social media savvy world, looking for help. I scoured the internet for wisdom. There was a medical website here and there, information about Down Syndrome that I found helpful. Kind of. But what helped me the most, in ways more powerful than I can say, was reading blogs. Nothing high traffic with ads and links. Just straight forward, not fancy, mommy blogs. Confessions of real people with real problems and real joys sharing their stories. It made me feel normal when my whole world had turned... anything but normal.

As sort of a thank you to the abyss, a means of paying it forward, and an avenue to share the testimony of our lives, I started my own blog. Sharing the adventure of life with Abby. And so much more. :)

Here I am 1 decade later. Life is (I can't help but laugh out loud!) different!! Oh so different...

In honor of our precious Abigail Grace and her 10th birthday, this is my story of her birth. 

My hope that this brings comfort to those who've also walked this road. You're not alone.

This story is a memorial stone. At the time, I had no idea what lay ahead. When I reflect on it, I'm reminded of all the things that Abby has taught me and how much we've grown together. But what's more, I'm overwhelmed with the great faithfulness of Christ. Strands of His love, grace, provision are woven through our story. Thanks for reading.

~~~

I was 23. Married for 4 years, we had a 3 year old and a 1 year old. My pregnancy was marked by nausea and low weight gain, just like the others before it. Every ultrasound perfect and beautiful, I was expecting a healthy baby girl.

There was no need to do any extra testing for birth defects. I was so young and my 2 other pregnancies and deliveries were picture perfect. So far, this one was on track to be the same. So far.

In my 3rd trimester, my belly wasn't measuring big enough. Although that was typical for me, nothing to worry about there. Especially with the lack of weight gain. At 36 weeks, I was only 7 lbs over my start weight. I had lost a lot of weight from aallll the morning sickness before I started adding any. But the doctor said my belly was measuring small as well at that checkup, so we did another ultrasound to be sure everything was ok.

I marveled at the technology as I watched the ultrasound tech measure the blood flow in the umbilical cord. Everything looked great. She looked and looked but couldn't find any problems. Except one minor thing. The baby was only estimated to be 4 lbs. 6 oz., which is really too small for a baby at 36 weeks gestation.

Once I was back in the exam room with my OB, she went over the results of the ultrasound. "Everything looks great. She's pretty small but we can't find the reason why. And it doesn't look like she's gaining at the rate we'd like to see. At this point, I think she will grow outside of the womb better than in. Momma's milk will do her lots of good." She smiled and reassured me. "Go home and pack on as many calories as you can. And we'll induce you in one week, once her lungs will be considered full term." In a last ditch effort, I went home and ate everything in sight! For a busy mom with 2 other babies at home, that's not an easy task! But I was diligent. And we scheduled the induction for November 9, 2006.

Between two sets of parents, aunts, uncles and friends, arrangements were made for Ashley and Emily. We headed into the hospital early that morning and started the process. They started Pitocin, gave me an epidural and we had the company of friends and family to help us pass the time until baby came! We talked and laughed and took pictures. Oh the joy of a not-natural labor! Haha! Sometime that afternoon, as I knew it was getting closer, everyone gave us a little space so I could rest and gear up for delivery. I rested, so peacefully, for a good little bit.

Little did I know, I would wake up to the beginning of what felt like a nightmare.

Sharp pains jolted me awake. This was not my first epidural and I knew that the pain shouldn't be this strong. Jake called for a nurse. She looked everything over and said that the epidural line looked good but for some reason it was "wearing off". At the height of another sharp pain, another nurse confirmed that they had no more time to investigate the epidural, it was time to push. Perfect.

Of all of my 5 babies, that birth was the most painful. Thankfully, it was also the fastest. Minutes later, at 6pm, Abigail Grace Spencer was born. At 5 lbs. 5 oz. Those last calories paid off!

Abigail Grace.

The nurses didn't hand her to me immediately, the way I had expected. They looked her over for a lot longer than I was comfortable with. "Her apgar score isn't what we want it to be. She keeps holding her breath. A lot of babies do this, it's ok. She'll be ok." Just give. her. to. me.

Once they felt she was stable enough, I held her as family members came in the room, a couple at a time. She was definitely less responsive than I remember the first two being but I really didn't give it a lot of thought. There's no better feeling than finally holding your baby in your arms. A sort of God given force field of protection emits from new mothers, covering their babies She's beautiful. She's here. She's mine. It's over. 

It wasn't.

Still in the delivery room, preparing to be moved to recovery, Jake was called out of the room. When he came back in, his face was... concerned. His voice went into a gentle but game-plan tone. Our girls, Ashley (age 3) and Emily (age 17 months) had been staying with friends and family. "They're rushing Emily to the emergency room downstairs. She's running a fever of 105." The blood drained from his face as he finished his sentence. "What do you want me to do," it was more of a statement than a question. We both knew that if he went to be with Emily, which he must, he couldn't come back to me. To Abby. 

An involuntary rush surged through me to rip out my IV's and get in an elevator, hospital gown and all. That was my baby down there. Maybe not the one I just gave birth to, but nevertheless, MY BABY. And she needed me.

I took a breath. We would have to divide and conquer. I expected that we would do that a lot over the years, having so many little ones close in age. I didn't expect to do it right now, in such a vulnerable state. "Just go. I love you."

The next little bit was a blur. They moved me to a recovery room. My mom was there. And I was praying. For my babies. A flood of post-delivery emotions: elation, fear (for Emily), joy, pain (from delivery), but mostly love. Looking at Abby, I was in love all over again.

All that I really know is that they ran tests on Emily, gave her fluids and meds to bring the fever down, and it was never fully diagnosed. Once she was stable, later that night, she was released and Jake took her home.

It was late when we heard a knock on the door of my room. My mom got up and shook the doctors hand. I recognized her as one of the pediatricians from our office. It's 10pm. I don't remember the pediatrician ever visiting us this late after delivery. She was kind, gentle and professional. "I just looked over your baby. She looks great. She's beautiful, congratulations." She went on to list things she was looking for and a sort of status on each. I was so tired, I was struggling to keep up but trying to understand each point. "... And those are the things that we keep an eye on with Down Syndrome."

Silence.

I vaguely remember my mom saying something to the effect that we weren't aware she had Down Syndrome. I think she apologized and thought we already knew. WE DIDN'T.

Have you ever seen an intense scene in a movie, where the picture is faded at the edges and you see a sequence of events happening but all you can hear is a heartbeat? That's what I felt for the next... well, a long time. What do you mean my baby has Down Syndrome? Are you even sure? How do you know? Don't speak that over my baby! She's perfect! I don't even know that I know what Down Syndrome is! Why are you saying this? Stop! I don't think any of those words reached my mouth. The doctor continued to speak. All heard was my own heartbeat.

Jake was in the car on his way home from what had to have been the longest day ever. On a dark interstate, with a sleeping 17 month old in his back seat, he got a call from me. "Babe. We just saw the doctor. They're saying that Abby has Down Syndrome." And I cried. "It's going be ok. We can do this. Let me get Emily home with my mom and I'll be back to the hospital."

The next day I asked that the doctors to do whatever testing need to be done to be sure. I now know that was a karyotype. They said they would order the test, but I could hear in their voices that it was pointless. They knew. Everyone knew. She had Down Syndrome. I don't have a problem with Down Syndrome. I knew a little boy with Down Syndrome in Awanas when I was a kid. I have a problem with my baby having it. Other families have kids with special needs. Just not me. Special people. I'm not special. I don't want to be special.

We had a flood of visitors in the hospital. Word spread I guess, and friends, family and church members came and went constantly. And because Abby had jaundice, we were there for a few days longer than usual. There was a wide range of reactions.

Some people cried. They told me it would be ok. What does that even mean?? We're fine. She's fine. I just had a baby.

Some people tried to identify by telling us about friends they knew who had Down Syndrome or other special needs. That's nice. I don't care about your friend. We aren't them. I just had a baby. Can we talk about HER and how great she's doing? (These are not my most honorable moments and thoughts and I'm not proud of them. But if I'm honest, that's what went through my head at the time.)

Some people told me that I needed to cry. That they were concerned that it wasn't "hitting me yet". To this day, I don't know... I'm not sure if it did or not. Maybe I should have cried more? I was processing. I had no idea how to handle the information I'd been given. I didn't know what life would look like for me or for my little girl. Ever. I just knew that I loved Abby. And that she had just been changed and her next feeding would be in 2 hours. That part was easy and felt right. The rest was completely uncertain. And terrifying.

Some people congratulated us. I'll never forget the friends that came in, elated. All smiles, they would scoop Abby up, tell me how beautiful she was, and congratulate me. It was like a balm for my soul. I soaked it in.

At one point our pastor told Jake something that I'll never forget. He said, "people are going to say dumb things. It's going to happen. Just know that they mean well, they just don't know what to say." That helped me so much. I knew that in my heart, but I needed someone to say it. It gave me a level of grace for people... even if they said something unhelpful, even hurtful, I was able to see through to their hearts and know that they loved us and meant well. And that's what mattered. (That has been so helpful to me over the years.)

One week later, with Abby Grace weighing in at 5 lbs. 1 oz, we left the hospital. They had us go to Vanderbilt first, just to double check her heart. Most kids with DS have heart issues. We knew she didn't, that's one of the reasons she wasn't diagnosed prenatally. Her heart was totally healthy.

When we got home, we took our first deep breath as a family of five. In my mind, I knew life was going to look different. This wasn't going to be an easy road. I'd heard words like therapy, early intervention and specialists. But all of that melted away like butter every time I looked at my sweet baby. She was just a tiny little love nugget. She had that amazing new baby smell. And wispy blond hair, just on top. And smooth skin. And she nursed like a pro. (Which they told me was actually not common.) She's already rocking this thing. We're going to be just fine. They don't know about us. We'll show them.

~~~

I never understood when people would talk about all they "learned" from their family member or friend with special needs. Now I get it. I've learned SO. MUCH. from Abby.

I've learned to treasure today. What's in front of me. Tomorrow or what it holds isn't guaranteed.

I've learned that I'm stronger than I'd ever dreamed.

I've learned that Abby's only limitations are the ones I put on her.

I've learned that together, Jake and I are a powerhouse. God put us together, and the world had better just watch out.

I've learned that's in those places when you're most paralyzed by fear and uncertainty, that's where God takes over. You only have to surrender to Him.

I've learned that Down Syndrome is just a diagnosis. It's a small part of who my daughter is. It affects... almost everything in her life. But it doesn't define her.

Halfway through my pregnancy, I felt the Lord tell me that her name would be Abigail Grace.

Abigail means the Joy of the Father. In the Bible, Abigail was one of the wives of David. The King James Version describes her as having good understanding and a beautiful countenance.

The first two things that the world would try to tell me about DS is that it would affect her appearance and her cognitive ability. God says otherwise. He says she's fearfully and wonderfully made. That He has plans to give her a hope and future. God reminds me every day through her very name, that she has a good understanding and a beautiful countenance. She is the Joy of her Father, on earth and in Heaven.

Today she turns ten. Ten long years since that crazy night. My hopes for the kind of life Abby might lead... the kind of hopes every mother has for her baby... were taken away that night. But the Lord has redeemed them with new hopes and dreams.

Wrapped up in one beautiful little girl,

God taught me that sometimes,

when we can't see what's ahead,

He pulls us close,

replaces our sorrow with pure joy,

and a peace that passes understanding.

It feels silly to me now that I was so upset and afraid of her diagnosis. It's almost embarrassing. But it was so real to me at the time. It's my story, for better or worse. 

Today we have a beautiful, intelligent, kindhearted 10 year old who loves big and enjoys life!

Just like the last, I expect the next 10 years to be full of joy, fear, determination, victories, setbacks, and exploration of the unknown. I expect Abby to dance through life and continue to completely amaze us. And I know that my faithful God will continue to weave His strands of Grace through our story, continuing a good work in us until the day of Christ Jesus.

For you created my inmost being;

    you knit me together in my mother’s womb.

14 

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made!

Psalm 139:103-14

To learn more about Down Syndrome, click the tab "Down Syndrome" at the top of my blog. To read more about our life with sweet Abbs, click the link on the sidebar: Parent of kids with DS

Eleven Years Ago Today

Eleven years ago today.... I was a 22 year old wife and mom of an almost 2 year old. And I was VERY pregnant with my second baby, 2 weeks out from my due date. The pregnancy was going well, much like my first one.

My first trimester was marked by nausea, it was all I could do to keep food down. And in my last trimester the doctor said my water was a little low. But I was also probably a little dehydrated. It was June after all.

My friends had just thrown me a sweet little baby shower. They went in together to get me matching bedding because my two little girls would be sharing a room. (I’ll never forget those beautiful pink and green Pottery Barn roses.)

I was thrilled that my little Ashley was going to have a sister. I would sing to my belly and rock my squirmy baby knowing that time was ticking until I could hold her in my arms.

Meanwhile on the other side of the world…

A 35 year old Ukrainian woman named Tatiana was in a hospital in Odessa in the final hours of labor. She was having her firstborn, a son. She was probably filled with excitement as every new mom is.

Maybe she had spent months fighting morning sickness. Maybe she was drinking tons of water to stay hydrated through her June due date. Maybe she had just had a baby shower, filling a nursery with blue. Maybe she would rock her belly and sing.

She was in a bit of a touristy vacation destination. So maybe she was on one last beach trip with her husband before becoming parents when the unexpected happened and her water broke.

Or it’s possible they lived there, wealthy enough to own a condo on the beach. Maybe she had her bags packed right by the door and as her husband lovingly timed her contractions, they decided it was time to go in.

But there she was, June 4, 2005, in the hospital. Each painful contraction would bring her a bit closer to seeing the face of her baby. But things took a drastic turn for the worst after he was born. The doctors announced for the first time that he had Down Syndrome. And fear set in.

I know that because fear makes people do crazy things. And Tatiana turned away her own son.

All I know for sure is that she told the doctors she would have aborted him if she had known. She spewed empty threats to sue the doctors. And in a final act of fear, she left him there. Tatiana and her husband told their families that he died at birth, and sent their lawyer back to pay his bills and confirm that they would never be contacted again. And that was the end of it.

That precious baby boy was taken to an orphanage where he would live without the love of a mother, a family. for four. long. years.

I’ve asked God many times over the years why He didn’t unite us sooner. And this side of Heaven, I won’t have an answer. I just squeeze MY son tight and pray it makes up for lost time. And I give glory to God that He is a redeemer who loves Micah, chose him to be ransomed into a wild family of girls, where he would be the only son. Where he gets to be Daddy’s only boy and the super hero protector to 5 sisters. His diagnosis doesn’t define him. It’s a small part of who he is. He is loved, cherished and adored.

It’s not always sunshine and roses. My heart didn’t immediately attach to him. But slowly, the grafting process happened. And now, my heart catches in my throat when he smiles. He’s mine. I get to be his mom. We get to be a part of his redemption story. The other kids get a picture of how God adopts us and grafts us in. He’s no different than they are. They’re all equally my babies.

Today I'm a 33 year old wife and mom of 6 kids ages 12, 11, 10, 9, 6 and 4.

Today, as we celebrate Micah's birthday, I have 4 specific prayers in my heart.

I pray for Tatiana. That her heart would be healed. If only I could show her how amazing he is. I pray that she would find Christ if she hasn’t already.

I pray that Micah’s story is a testament to the goodness of God. We serve a God who loves the least and the last. To give them a hope and a future. To set the lonely in families. We serve a God who redeems.

I pray that Down Syndrome awareness would grow. That women would be informed and not afraid when they receive that diagnosis. I wish I could look in the eyes of women who’s baby have Down Syndrome and tell them that it’s just a thing. Their baby has such a bright future if they will just embrace it and remember that they are your baby first.

Last but not least, I pray for my big, strong, 11 year old boy. That God would continue to pour out blessings on him. That he would grow in wisdom and stature and in favor with God and man. That he would feel he love of God and serve Him all of his days.

His feet

Now as they went on their way, Jesus entered a village. And a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet and listened to his teaching. But Martha was distracted with much serving. And she went up to him and said, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me.” But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.” Luke 10:38-42

We've been in Knoxville for exactly 2 months. The boxes are unpacked, curtains ordered and hung, the pictures are on the walls. The biggest tell-tale sign that we've just moved in is the already-tattered temporary paper blinds in the windows. But even the "real" blinds have ordered and will be in in a couple of weeks.

If you've just happened upon my little blog, we're here because we're planting a church with two other families. It's been a wild step of faith into the unknown for us all. But I wouldn't necessarily characterize it as scary either. When you know that you've taken a step that the Lord asked of you, there's a comfort in knowing He'll carry you through it. And this beautiful place has a way of making you fall in love. The river, the foothills of the Smokies, the abundance of parks... there's beauty all around us. And that's saying a lot if you know the gorgeous area we came from.

We're having regular Sunday services already; as well as a weeknight dinner and study for the college students/young adults. We've also been meeting with some of the families we've connected with here, having them over for dinner. I've met some pretty amazing people and I feel incredibly blessed at the thought of these people being our new community. And we've been so blessed to have friends and family from Nashville come to visit. It always does my heart so much good to see familiar faces.

All of these things happen here. In our home. If you know me at all, I love that! My heart is hospitality, it almost energizes me. I want to open my home. I worked hard to get it settled quickly because I knew that our house would be a hub for our little church community for a while. And its been so fun. It is truly a joy to be His hands and feet.

We are living and breathing community and fellowship. There are no big programs or ministries set yet. Everything we do involves coffee, face to face communication and loud kids running up and down the stairs. :) We're doing life together-- praying for any random thing that comes up, big or small. We share everything from kids clothes, to shopping finds, to leftovers that get divvied up and sent home after meals. This is such a precious time being the hands and feet of Jesus to one another and we are soaking it in. 

And every part that I'm responsible for in our home, I want to be diligent and do it to the best of my ability. I want to be Martha Stewart. And Paula Dean. And Charlotte Mason. And Anne Voscamp. And Beth Moore. And, and, and...

My spirit is willing and overjoyed.

And then. my flesh steps in. *facepalm* 

Its crazy how quickly you can go from serving to controlling. From being prepared to being obsessive. My heart is to create a warm (and clean) environment, prepare food, and welcome friends and family. But somehow, now and then, minutes before company arrives, I feel pressure. My inner control freak steps in. I bark orders at my kids and snap at my poor husband. And when our precious guests arrive, I open the door and it feels like I'm welcoming Jesus. I find myself in the midst of a (fairly) clean house and a prepared meal, but I am feeling exhausted and convicted. The enemy whispers that he just had a little victory and he laughs.

But then the voice of Jesus says, "Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." Matthew 11:28-30

The Lord is so sweet to deal gently with me. One Sunday (I think it was actually our first Sunday) before service, we were getting the house ready. We all moved around furniture, made coffee and prepared snacks, Krystal and Alex went over their songs for worship, and we brought chairs in and set them up in our living room. After all the chairs were all nicely lined up, I saw that the back of them were dirty. Like, gunky dirty. So I grabbed a dish cloth and got to work. As it got close to time for people to arrive, Jake called together our team to pray for the service. But I wasn't done. And as our team all stopped what they were doing-- I prayed as I scrubbed chairs. And I kept on scrubbing after prayer was over. The chairs were clean(er) but as I finished and looked at them, I felt the Lord nudge me. I remembered the story of Mary and Martha. I didn't feel guilty, I felt convicted and that's how I knew it was the Lord. So I tucked it in my heart for later. 

That night I read Luke 10 and thought about Mary. God reminded me that sometimes, instead of being His hands and feet, I have to stop. And sit at His feet. Diligence, hard work, hospitality: these are good things. Romans 12:13 literally says to practice hospitality. But it begins in the heart. Wearing myself out so that I have nothing left to offer is not hospitality.

I'm not saying I won't still clean up or do all I can to prepare my home. Around here, it only takes a matter of hours for the baseboards to be hidden by laundry, the floor a landmine of legos and naked barbies and the dishes to overflow. I love my children but they are professional house dirtiers.

What I am saying is this. I'm purposing to prepare my heart as much, if not more than I prepare my home. After all, we don't invite people in because we have it all together. We invite people in so we can love one another as fellow followers of Jesus. (Or to share with those who don't know Him.) And in the process we find that sitting together is to sit as His feet, just as Mary did. 

"For where two or three are gathered together in my name, I am there in the midst of them." Matthew 18:20

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Do you host a small group, entertain often, or just have a heart for hospitality? She Reads Truth has an awesome series on Hospitality that is a precious resource. I'm not paid to say that or anything, I just really love their stuff. ;)