My Grandma's Tortillas

I love Mexican food.  I love it all.  I love chips, salsa (don't you dare leave out the cilantro), guacamole, black beans, rice, enchiladas, fajitas, pollo loco, queso, all manner of soups, tortillas...all of it.  GET IN MY MOUTH.  I could eat this genre of food more than any other.  I realize I am eating a totally altered version of it's true heritage, but it's just what I know.  I come from a long line of Mexican food lovers.  I grew up eating it often, even on some holidays.  This deep love for Mexican food has now been passed down through 4 generations.  The real reason?  Back in the 1960s when my mom's family was living out in Arizona my grandma learned to make homemade tortillas from a friend.  I'm not kidding you, they are so unbelievably good.  If you ever have the pleasure of tasting one that is hot off the skillet you will be ruined for all other tortillas forever.  Over the last 50 years she has made thousands.  She texted me earlier and said that she made 40 this morning.  She keeps her kids, grandkids, and friends supplied with this manna from heaven.  So, the bottom line is, she has to live forever.  She has to.  We won't know what to do with ourselves for many more important reasons, but who will make us tortillas???  I can't dwell on it.

Last Christmas Jeff and I decided we would at least try to learn the skill of making tortillas to make her proud, and to at least possess the knowledge should it become necessary to make our own someday.  If we are going to learn, we want to learn from the best.  She graciously and patiently instructed us.

First try at rolling them out and frying them for Jeff and I.  I'm not saying which one of us made the nice round one and which one of us made the wonky shaped one.  I'm just simply posting a picture. :)

Truth be told, Jeff and I tried to make these once by reading the recipe but it quickly became obvious that we needed a hands on lesson.  There is no substitute for being taught by the expert.  It was fun and I at least feel like I COULD get the hang of it…someday.  For now, we will still be happily receiving shipments from Iowa.

While I am on the topic of my grandma I wanted to elaborate on the picture that some of you probably saw on Facebook the other day.  I took the kids up to my parents’ house to spend the afternoon with both of my grandmas.  I cannot tell you how lucky I feel to still have them both in my life.  My grandma Helen (pictured on the left) is now 91 and my grandma Marianne (pictured on the right) will be 85 in a few weeks.  I know some of you don’t have your grandparents around anymore.  I feel that gap and loss with my grandpas.  One of them died when I was only a year old and I lost my other grandpa just a couple of weeks before Micah was born.  It’s hard to not know your grandparents and it’s hard to lose them.  So, please believe me, I know what a gift I have every time I get to spend time with them. 

 After dinner (I’ll give you exactly one guess as to what we ate) I sat at the table with my grandmas and talked.  We talked about everything from giving birth to nursing homes.  They can both remember how long they labored and how much their children weighed.  My grandma Helen's initial response to how long she labored was, "LONG ENOUGH."  Ha!  I can’t come up with my kids’ exact birth weight anymore.  How in the world can they remember that?  I was amazed at the details they could recount7.  I don’t know exactly how we got there, but somehow we arrived at the topic of growing old.  

 The floodgates of wisdom were opened to me.  

The first thing that I remember my grandma Marianne saying was that her mom (who lived to be 102) used to tell her, “It takes so little to make an old person happy.  It just takes a post card, a phone call, or a visit to make your day.”  She said she knows that to be true now.  So many elderly people are lonely.  Friends and family pass away before them and others move away, leaving them alone during some of the most vulnerable years in life.  My great grandma Mary lived with her and my grandpa Bill for nine years before she went into a nursing home.  She said it was so hard to walk away on the day they moved her in.  Both of their moms (my great grandmas) lived in the same town, and eventually the same nursing home before they passed away.  My grandma and grandpa were faithful to spend time with them there after they were no longer able to care for them at home.  

 I already observed this in my childhood, but my grandma described in more detail about the decidedly different outlook each of them had on life and the situation of finding themselves in a nursing home.  My grandma Mary never once complained about the food, her roommate, or the care she received.  She was content.  My grandma Agnes struggled with contentment throughout her life and it continued during her time in the nursing home.  It’s a cautionary tale to me.  Discontentment in our hearts never just magically goes away.  Even if you set your life up to serve your own happiness, and others do the same, no one will win.  The heart is never quite satisfied, or never for long.  The craving to make our world always happy and comfortable is such a chasing after the wind.  Those who pursue it the hardest are usually the most sad and discontent in the end.  She told me that my grandma Mary confessed to her one day that she would often lay her head down and pretend to be asleep when my grandma Agnes would stop by her room to chat.  She just couldn't take the complaining!  Not long after that my grandma Agnes said, “Why, I can NEVER find your mother awake when I stop by!”  It was so hard for her to not laugh because she knew what was happening.  I DIED.  These stories are priceless! 

When I asked my grandmas how they felt about the possibility of moving into a nursing home at some point, my grandma Marianne said, “Well, I’ve decided that the best thing you can do is just to accept it.”  I assume she learned this by watching the different ways her own mother and mother in-law handled that transition.  Accepting unwanted changes always takes time but I hope I always move in the direction of acceptance in things that I cannot change.  We struggle with growing old in our culture.  We fight it with every skin cream and surgery known to man.  “Never ask a lady her age,” they say.  We can be so insecure about growing old.  We do not honor the aged and revere their wisdom.  We foolishly disdain the blessing of being able to grow old and rich in wisdom.  Nothing can be gained by trying to turn back the hands of time.  IT CANNOT BE DONE.  We should take care of our health, but we cannot make time stand still.  If wisdom and eternity is our aim, why would we want it to anyway?

As we were in the middle of our conversation, her phone started ringing.  She pulled it out and said, “Oh, that’s just my reminder to stop and pray.  It goes off every day at 7:14.”  She immediately quoted 2 Chronicles 7:14, which is the verse that prompts her and some others from her church to pray every day at that time.  I’m sorry if your grandma is not this amazing.  I asked her what she prays for every day.  She said, “Oh, it just depends.  I pray for our military and their families.  I pray for our country’s leaders, my family, friends, and others I know who need prayer.  There are so many people that need prayer.  And I pray for people that are lonely.  I think one of the worst things in life is to end up being lonely.” I swallowed hard and should have removed myself from the table right then to go repent of my own prayerlessness, but I didn't want to be awkward.  She was teaching me so much without even meaning to…because she is just wise.  She can’t help it.  It’s just who she has become after 84 years of living life with a teachable heart. 

I drove home with a full heart that night.  I had been loved deeply, listened to, and taught in those few short hours.  I am so blessed.  If you have a grandparent that is still living and loves you, please go sit with them when you can.  Or, maybe we could go sit with someone in a nursing home near us.  Ask them to tell us stories.  Ask about the people they love that are living or have passed away.  Ask about the changes they have seen during the course of their life.  Ask them what is most important in life. Listen and learn.  We may observe a cautionary tale, and we may strike gold in wisdom.

It will probably make their day, and it will probably end up making ours too.    

 

What Summers Are Made Of

Summer.  The most intense season of the year as a mom. It's so much fun...except when it's not.  It's is always a combination of sweet memories and pulling your hair out.  And I would absolutely still take it over winter 100 percent of the time.

Because of this...

THE POOL.

Marvel's newest super hero...Pretzel Man.  

And this...

Our yearly tradition of going out to breakfast for Father's Day at the Mark Twain Dinette in Hannibal.  This is always more sweet and precious in the picture than in real life. :)

Super Summer...living with friends for about 2 weeks.  The kids don't even ask for a "real vacation" at this point in life because of Super Summer.  They love eating at the cafeteria (I'm slightly offended, but there is ice cream at every meal so...), being with people they love, playing with friends, going to the "morning show," and getting to see grandma and grandpa.

 And this...

Getting to celebrate this sweet girl every June.

 My one decoration for her party.  Majored on fun, minored on decorations this year.

  

 We celebrated with a princess Belle cake and Chinese food with just the six of us on her actual birthday.  The next Saturday Grandma and Grandpa came down for the day, followed by hang out time and the pool with friends.  This was her favorite birthday by far (she only has 5 to choose from, but whatever)!    

And this...

First family trip to Silver Dollar City.  It was HOT and the kids did amazing.  I thought it would be a repeat of  our trip to the zoo last year, but I was pleasantly surprised.  

Micah, Avery, and Ella all rode their first "rolluh coastuh."

Kelly rode with Micah so I could ride with Avery. :)

And this...

The girls got scooters to ride this summer so they can keep up with Micah.  They were obsessed with these for about a week.  Oh, the hours of fun and fighting over running into each other while riding them in the garage.  I have a love/hate relationship with their scooters because of this.  Don't they look cute on them, though?

We ended up not having plans for the 4th of July so we had family time.  It was so good.  We took the kids up to Stephen's Lake beach in Columbia to play in the sand and water instead of a pool for a change.

This was the day we grilled out and Ella climbed up in my lap and said to Jeff, "Mommy is my fav-uh-wit.  Fo weal in weal life."  Followed by a smile that said, "GET ME." Which he did. :)

They felt pretty big getting to light smoke bombs all on their own this year.

The blast from my past.  Avery got a slip-n-slide from her friend, Cordie.  They quickly fell in love with it...and then I quickly killed our grass with it while Jeff was gone and I forgot to move it.  Ooops.
Who knew grass was so fragile?  Not me, obviously.

Cousin time at Mimi and Papa's house and Rothwell Park!

Being the spontaneous, fun people that we are, my dad and I took them out on paddle boats.  
It was super fun to do together!

Having two grandsons is finally paying off, Dad.

And this...

The other "vacation" our kids love to take...the St. Louis Project.  They love going to parents night at one of the VBS ministry sites so they can get in on the games and face painting.  There are obviously no try outs to work at the face painting table.  Bless 'em for trying though. ;)

Our annual trip to the zoo!  No blow outs and no melt downs this year.  Praise God from whom all blessings flow.

The hippo photo bomber.

We have learned that L LOVES animals.  She loves them so hard.  It's a little overwhelming for the animals if she gets close to them. She used to be like that with babies so I have hope that she will grow out of this...let's all hope.

Jeff got to sneak away one afternoon and go swimming with us while we were in St. Louis.

I love their creativity.  They figured out that you can turn an inflatable chair into a "belly bopper."  They would run into each other over and over.  It was entertaining until someone would cry.  I knew that would happen, but I figured the fun outweighed the risk in this scenario so I let them go for it.

Plastic tubs will always hold a special place in my heart.  Strange?  It's just that I have given all four of our kids a bath in plastic tubs just like this one during The Project since they were born, until they out grew it.  I will be down to one last kid in the tub next summer.  I am also sending another one off to kindergarten in a month so I am without a doubt going to be overly sentimental for a while.  Just ignore me until I come out of it. 

So, that's it.  It's the memories, the sunshine, the time together.  As hard as the travelling can be with four young kids in tow, I know that they will look back on these adventures with fond memories.  One day I can tell them the stories they probably won't remember...like having to come home early from Super Summer because of major attitude problems, the bed time shenanigans I went through to get all four of them to sleep in the same room, the crazy things L ate and I found in her diaper, surviving doctor visits, long days, and loading/travelling with them while Jeff was out of town.  Someday, when they are hanging on to their own sanity by a thread during the child rearing years, I will tell them all about it while I sip on coffee in my clean and quiet house.  I will tell them that we all survive days we think we won't, there is more grace than we realize, and they'll miss it when it's over.  I hope I live long enough and close enough to help them survive it, too.

I love summer...because of them.

Roots

Jeff and I got to spend a few days at my alma mater at the end of May, sans kids.  Every year we get to be a part of the commissioning of college students who will be sent out across Missouri to do missions over the summer.  Last year I couldn't go because there were too many appointments and meetings for L who had only been with us for about a week.  I stayed home with four kids all by myself for the first time.  Avery swallowed a penny one night which caused a panic.  L was also in the habit of gracing us with blow outs that required baths around 3 a.m.  I was so tired and out of my comfort zone that adrenaline and coffee got me through it.  A year later?  All four kids went to Grandma and Grandpa's house. ((((Hallelujah))))  I had two days of rest.  I got to sit in worship gatherings from start to finish uninterrupted.  I got to see old friends.  I got to have a spontaneous coffee date with a friend (one of my favorite things in life) as if I were really back in college.  I got to read as much as I wanted.

IT WAS GLORIOUS.

 

Family trip to Java Jive last summer.

It is always near the top of my priority list to visit Java Jive while we are in Hannibal.  It stirs up nostalgia and satisfies my hankering for coffee that doubles as dessert.  I worked at this little coffee shop down on Main Street during college.  I learned how to use an espresso machine there, which I contend is a valuable life skill.  Jeff will validate this.  That job also taught me about loving people who completely disagree with my beliefs.  I would get challenged with hard questions when someone would sit up at the counter on slow nights.  It was good for me.  It helped me dig deeper into the Word to learn what I believed and why.  I also learned that sometimes when we live in a Christian subculture (like a Christian college) it can be easy to have unrealistic and even nonsensical expectations of the world around us.  "Boycott them if they won't play Christian music" is one example of this sort of craziness.  That message came from an article in our school newspaper written by a "well meaning" and also very misguided student.  Hannibal is a small town and it didn't take long for that message to reach the ears of my boss.  Even though I didn't agree with the article that had been written, it was hard to not be painted with the same brush since I was a professing Christian and attended that school.  It damaged trust and I was so frustrated.  Here is what I wanted to say back to writer of that article (but didn't because I hate confrontation)... First of all, that did more damage than you can possibly know.  Do not expect the world to cater to you.  Jesus never once promised that.  Among other important things, He told us to be a light in the darkness.  Love our neighbors, even those who hate us.  Serve others instead of expecting to be served. So, for the love of Jesus and the mission He has given us, STOP IT.  I beg you.  I love that place and the people who own it.  I love the regulars that I still see when I go in there.  They don't even recognize me anymore, but I remember them.  I'm thankful that Mrs. Ayers finally gave in to my persistence and let me work there when they opened 15 years ago.  If you are ever in Hannibal please drop in and have a Milky Way for me.  I will just go ahead and say...you're so very welcome for the delight your taste buds will experience.

As I walked around campus I savored the memories of a place where I grew and changed more than any other season of my life.  There are new buildings and people who weren't around when I was here 15 years ago (Note: I accidentally left off the "1" in 15 when I first wrote this. That was super depressing for a minute.).  A lot of things look different, and better.  They've made some great improvements.  They have Starbucks in their new library, a Mongolian grill in the cafeteria, and current students get to have chapel in a swanky theater with cushioned seats instead of sitting on bleachers in the gym without air conditioning.  Not the same experience kids. 

But you know one thing that hasn't changed?  This tree.  It sits right in the middle of campus. Pictures honestly don't do it justice.  It's such an eye catcher.  I am always most amazed by how thick it's branches are and how far they reach.  It's beautiful.

A few years ago a storm ripped through Hannibal that produced straight line winds.  They lost over 90 trees and their science building not far from where this tree sits.  I'm sure it lost some leaves and branches, but here it stands today.  Can you imagine the force of wind it would take to uproot this tree?  I don't know how old it is but I'm sure it has weathered many storms, droughts, and harsh winters over the years.  I wish I could know just how far the roots reach underground.  If not for the roots taking in moisture deep underground to feed the rest of the tree it would have died long ago. 

It dawned on me while I sat there.  It's what I don't see that makes this tree so beautiful. 

It caused me to think about my own roots.  What is it that sustains me through droughts, harsh winters, and winds that threaten to uproot me?   What is underground in my life? 

While I can think of different types of roots, like my family or the place where I grew up, my real roots are found in my relationship with Jesus.  He is my life, my hope, my salvation.  Like the roots of a tree, my roots grow mostly in the place no one else sees.   The hidden place.  It's in the quiet time alone with God that my roots soak up the rain and nutrients that come from His Word.  It is where I pour out my heart before Him, listen, and let His Spirit teach me most.  My roots are also strengthened as I obey God and live in community with others. 

I have gone through seasons where I didn't take care of my roots.  I stopped spending time with God, I had habitual sin in my life, and wasn't engaging in real community.  It left me isolated and weak.  So, when the storms came the damage was immense.  I was almost leveled by a miscarriage, death of a cousin, and losing a good friend from college to cancer 10 years ago.  I hated how I felt, I knew it was wrong, but I felt angry and distant from God.  You cannot prepare for a harsh winter once the snow and wind are already blowing.  You just have to face it with what you have when the storm is on top of you.  It was really clear during that time of my life that I was a fledgling tree with weak roots.  It took several years for me to find my way back to an intimate relationship with God. 

But He is so merciful. 

That tree on campus was once a fledgling too.  All massive trees were small in the beginning.  They all start the same way, from a seed.  We all start the same way too.  When it comes to a relationship with Jesus, we all begin at the cross to receive grace and surrender our lives to Him.  How we intentionally pursue our relationship with Him and how we take care of our roots will determine how we fare when the straight line winds rip through our lives. 

I want to be standing when those days come.  I want to have deep roots that anchor my soul.  I want to be in the habit of trusting God with the seemingly small things so I will trust Him when the big, impossible things stare me in the face.  I want to run to Him and His Word for comfort and wisdom on those days.  From my experience, when you have been avoiding Him on the normal days, it’s not easy to run to Him in the crisis.  It’s not because He is harsh, it’s because guilt and lies are hard to overcome when you are in a weak place.  As crazy as it sounds, I resist grace sometimes.   Pride is ever at work against the grace of God in my life. 

How are my roots right now?  

I have some room to grow, and I always will until the day He takes me home.  I have sin that I struggle with.  I choose lesser things to try to satisfy my heart sometimes.  I’m a work in progress.   I’m grateful for God’s faithfulness, unfailing love, grace, and mercy that has brought me this far. I don't know where I would be if I weren't rooted in Him.  All I can trust is that if I keep coming back to Him, He will finish the work He began in me.   

Oh, the joys of those who do not

follow the advice of the wicked,

or stand around with sinners,

or join in with mockers.

But they delight in the law of the LORD,

meditating on it day and night.

They are like trees planted along the riverbank,

bearing fruit each season.

Their leaves never wither,

and they prosper in all they do.

Psalm 1:1-3.

I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.

Ephesians 3:16-21

(emphasis mine)

L's First Birthday

Well, before it's a distant memory I wanted to tell you a little bit about L's first birthday party.  We wanted to go out with a bang, as we don't anticipate getting to do a first birthday again.  {Insert mixed emotions here} We especially wanted to share this one with all of our friends who have been a part of our journey with L over the last year.  Our house isn't really ideal for having 50+ people inside it's walls, so we opted for a park party.  I watched the weather like a hawk as soon as it was in the 10 day forecast. That really does as much good as guessing exactly when a baby will be born.  There was a 50 % chance of rain even on the day of the party. Why in the first world of modern technology can they not tell me whether it's going to rain three hours from now?   These situations tempt me to leave behind all eternal perspective.  We had food for almost 60 people and I had a well detailed plan for how I wanted things to be set up at the park pavilion.  See diagram below.

Some people would call this "a little much" but I think this is just reasonable planning when you have a group of people showing up to help you set up with only 30 minutes of total prep time.  Someone validate me here.  I DID NOT want to move it to an indoor location with no playground, no diagram, and round tables for which I had no table covers.  Maybe my desire to make sure parties I host go according to plan is my overcompensation for our wedding that didn't.  Or maybe I'm over thinking it.  Maybe I just turn into a control freak over things like this.  Outside of weather stress I happen to have fun planning parties though.  I don't do it because I think it has to be Pinterest perfect to impress people.  It's just one of my weird creative outlets that I have fun with.  I can make things, check things off a list, and then declare it FINISHED.  That is a rare commodity in my everyday life of laundry, cooking, and cleaning.  The word finished usually just means it's time for me to clean up, wipe a butt, or put something away.  I will admit that four birthdays during the course of a year is a little more work than fun these days.  Jeff would agree...that it's a little more "expensive" than "necessary."  I am also realizing as Micah and Avery get older that fun trumps cute six days a week and twice on Sunday.  So, once you get to birthday number five I will attempt the cake of your choice and we'll do something fun with your friends.  I want them to have fun on their birthday and a banner that takes me three hours to make will not be etched into their favorite memories from childhood.  So instead, we'll go swimming, have Lego building competitions, or play at the park.  I'm actually growing fond of parties that don't require me to clean my house too.  

Back to the current birthday.  We decided to go ahead with the party as planned.  Jeff grilled hotdogs and burgers in the rain and we wrangled plastic table covers onto the tables.  We stapled them, taped them, and weighed them down.  I thought the wind was going to blow eveything up highway 63, including Ella.  But we conquered, we celebrated, the kids played, and we shared it with 56 close friends and family.  It was a good day.  I have the most precious video that I wish I could show you but it's hard to do that since the birthday girl is obviously the star of the show.  Bri did a beautiful job.  If you ever want to watch it I would be happy to share it somehow.  I didn't get a lot of pictures because I forgot to ask my sister to bring her camera.  I felt sick about that when I got home, but we did get a few.  Here they are.

L wasn't feeling great that day so she didn't devour her cupcake like we hoped, but she was a sweet birthday girl.  She handled the craziness and long afternoon like a champ.

I want to wrap up by saying that while this birthday was just as fun as every first birthday we have celebrated with our bio kids, I also felt a simultaneous sadness.  I remember talking to her mama at a court date last summer about us planning this day together and celebrating her victories as we celebrated L's first year of life.  I wanted to help her look into the future with new hope, to see what could be, so maybe she would fight harder for her freedom.  It just didn't happen.  I was the only one who knew about that conversation, but when L's former caseworker hugged me before she left those emotions washed over me.  She has consistently been a listening ear and understands the happy/sad combo of this day.  She cares about her mom as much as I do.  Her love for L's mom encourages me to keep loving her as well, even though our desires for L's future have changed.  Her friendship is such a blessing.

I am thankful for how God has worked over the last year.  It's overwhelming, actually.  I still pinch myself when I think about the fact that we get to be L's family, and have been for a whole year.  Our lives got a bit more complicated on May 17, 2014 while simultaneously getting so much richer.  She is amazing.  Her smile, curiosity, and big hugs have made our home a better place.  We have learned more about grace, prayer, and surrender by her presence in our lives.  We don't know why we have been given this privelege but we sure are thankful for it.  For as long as God gives us the opportunity to have this sweet girl in our family we will cherish it.

So, here's to a year of this sweet girl miraculously entering the world and thriving in it.  God so clearly has his hand on her little life and we cannot wait to see all He will do as she grows.

Happy birthday L.

An Answered Prayer

Yesterday morning we woke up dark and early to take Micah in for his third set of ear tubes and to have his adenoids removed.  I am such a wuss.  I do not have to be anywhere by 7 in the morning anymore.  My time at Starbucks will give me an appreciation for that until the day I die.  I despised getting up in the four o'clock hour to be at work.  I felt like junk the rest of day, even if I took a nap when I got off work.  I salute you, overnight and early morning shift workers everywhere.  You all keep the modern world moving along while the rest of us sleep and I know how hard that is on a body.   I hope some newbie will come along and pay their dues to the midnight hour so you don't have to anymore.

Anyway, Micah has been a healthy kid but his ears have always been his nemesis.  He is so used to it that he barely complains when they get infected.  Over the last few years it has really started to affect his hearing though.  It's very similar to living with an old man who has lost his hearing aids.  It can be a challenge.  Jeff and I hope this is the last time he will have to do this procedure, but Micah actually may not feel that way.  He loves getting to pick out his "something for being brave" at Target and getting to eat whatever he wants after surgery.  The doctor always has a basket of stuffed animals/toys for him to pick something from when we get to the hospital too.  Since gifts are his love language, this makes for a good day no matter what they do to him.   It's totally worth it.  He might sign up for experimental surgery if the prize was right.

I knew he had grown up since the last time he had surgery when he picked a book over a toy at Target.  Maybe this is sad, but it was actually a proud parent moment.  My kid loves to read!

This is at 7 a.m.  Be still my heart.  I also love that he wanted to bring his Sonic stuffed animal.
 He is still a little boy for a few more years.  

After we got checked in he bravely went down the hall will three cheerful nurses while we waved goodbye and headed to the waiting room.  After the surgery was over, our doctor came out to give us the report.  He said everything went well but he noticed something while he was removing his adenoids.  Micah has a "remnant" of a submucous cleft palate.  He rattled off a few more things, reiterated that he did great, and buzzed off to do his next surgery.  He had no idea what news he just delivered.  I plan to tell him at our follow up appointment though.

The second he said the words "cleft palate" I remembered something from 7 1/2 years ago.  When I was pregnant with Micah we went in for our 20 week ultrasound.  After my OB looked at the images she had some concerns about a cleft palate.   We had to go back at 28 weeks so they could take another look.  She said she just wanted to get better images of his mouth but it was probably nothing to be worried about.  As if that's possible to not worry about for eight weeks.  In the mean time I asked God to heal him if something was wrong.  I was trying to trust that God would carry us and him no matter what the outcome.  To be truthful, my legs were still feeble after walking through a miscarriage a couple years before.  I felt ready for bad news but I was going to be grateful to bring him home regardless of what the next ultrasound revealed.  Thankfully, after the next one she said everything looked normal.  I think we chalked it up to bad angles on the picture or just misreading the images...until today.

I did some quick research.  According the Cleft Palate Foundation (cleftline.org) a submucous cleft palate carries the same genetic (hereditary) risk as an obvious cleft palate.  That is good for us to know should Micah have kids someday.  Also, a submucous cleft palate can sometimes lead to eating/swallowing issues, speech delays, and persistent middle ear disease.  It can also require surgery.  As you already know, an obvious cleft palate would have required many surgeries.  Micah has only a "remnant."  I believe that remnant is still present today so that we would know GOD HEALED HIM IN THE WOMB.  I absolutely believe He did.  I don't care what anyone else thinks, I'm giving Him praise for a miracle.  It may be the cause of his ear issues but we could have walked a very different road after he was born.  God is so patient in the ways He reveals Himself.  Seven and a half years later I am finally giving Him thanks for what He did.  He answered our prayers with a yes.  Maybe it means more for me to learn that news now than it would have then.  I don't know.

Today I am filled with gratitude and a new reminder that God's ways are mysterious and He is kind.  There are many times He says no, but He also does indeed say YES.  He is more than able.  How many miracles has He done and how many crises have been averted because God intervened without our knowing?  Yesterday I also found myself inches away from being in a car accident in case I needed the message to be any clearer.  I am so thankful for His kindness.

I don't know what circumstances you find yourself in today.  Receiving a no or waiting for an answer is often painful and hard.  There are some prayers that I have been laying at God's feet for a very long time.  There are questions that I do not have answers to and desperately want.  I probably won't see all of my questions answered on this side of heaven.  None of us will.  But while we wait I hope you will be reminded, as I am, that God is still listening and He will answer.  One day, here on Earth or in His presence, we will see what He was doing all along.

More than receiving the answer to our prayers we will receive more of Him as we continue to draw near in prayer and His Word.  Because of all that God has done in my life over the last 7 1/2 years I am far more convinced of that today than I was back then.

Don't give up on praying.  Keep beckoning Him to answer.  Wait.  Watch.  Draw near.  Give thanks.

Devote yourselves to prayer.  Being watchful and thankful. 

Colosssians 4:2