I don't want to celebrate.  I don't feel excited.  This Christmas seems gray.  The  silver has a tarnished hue.  The gold has faded.  The red and green are pale and dull.  This is not how it's supposed to be.  I just don't want to rejoice right now.  I feel it is out of context in the midst of such sorrow.
I know that come Christmas Day the joy on my children's face will lighten this mood.  It will change when family begins to come.  But, for now, this is where I am.

The faces of beautiful babies taken from this world will hopefully be encompassed by the reality of one perfect baby coming to save.  The faces of those I love who are gone will be overshadowed by an angel's message, "Emmanuel, God with us."  It will come.  These truths will lighten my world.  It will not erase the gray but comfort me in it.

I have had a dream for as long as I can remember.  It has been to write a book.  I have folders filled with inspiration about what I want to write about.  I was even able to go to a writer's conference and glean more tools to be able to accomplish this dream.

I'm struggling though.  I have this propensity for freezing up and retreating when I feel overwhelmed.  I have so much I feel like I need to do to become a good writer it has actually resulted in writer's retreat and not the vacation type.  The writer's retreat that comes with not picking up a pen and engaging with my thoughts and ideas.  My folders are all nicely color coded, my desk all set, and yet I have to force myself to sit down and engage.

I realize that I'm getting the cart before the horse so to speak.  I expect myself to have a group, a platform, a fantasic blog, a voice, and so many other things when I just need to write.  Those things will come.  I am still a baby at this.  I need to keep maturing.  I need to focus on the one thing I can do now and that is write.  The other things will come later.

So, I am writing.  I am trying to sit down every day and just write.  I am putting aside all these expectations my perfectionistic first born self tends to weigh itself down with.  Rome wasn't built in a day.

It's amazing what a little light does.  It brightens up the haze that comes from those cloudy days.  Often a house can feel closed in and dark.  That little bit of light from an open window can

As much as I love opening up the shades in my home but in my heart it is much more difficult.  I find such security in the hiding behind the blinds hoping no one will see how truly chaotic my heart might be.  Behind the shades is safety.

Today I am lifting the shades a little.

Jack is losing his hair again.  I trimmed the little tuft he has left so it didn't stick out so much.  There is that sense of hope every time it comes back.  Maybe this time.  Maybe, by some amazing feat it will keep growing.  Instead, I kiss his bald little head goodnight knowing I love this boy with or without hair.

I finally caught up on scrapbooking Emma's newborn pictures in time for her 3rd birthday (I guess it could be worse...her graduation?).  I found a picture of the first time Grandpa and Grandma held her and I couldn't do it.  I couldn't face it for two days.  It was too hard.  It's finally done and I ended up teary eyed.

Today is the anniversary of Pearl Harbor.  My Grandfather was a WW2 Vet and was sent to help with the clean up.  I wish I knew when I was younger what a hero he was.  I am glad I know now.

Mom and Dad are out visiting Andrew, Kathryn, and Jude.  I miss them.  I saw Drew for the first time in over 2 years at my Grandma's funeral.  I haven't been able to meet our little Jude yet and he's not so little anymore, walking and talking and giving his mom and dad a run for their money.  I am thankful for Skype so at least I can play peek-a-boo with him and read him Brown Bear.

This is going to be the 3rd or 4th Christmas where our whole family has not been together.  I miss the days when one of us would wake up at the crack of dawn and wake up everyone else, we'd try to wait patiently for Dad to read the Christmas story, longing to open our presents, and spend the evening playing games at the Parkers.

I want so badly to help my children learn the true meaning of Christmas while still trying to make special family memories.  Weeding through to figure out how not to lie about Santa while not breaking their little hearts is a lot messier than I thought.

Hitting my later 30's has also sent me into a philosophical tailspin as I ponder my purpose and priorities.  I achieved the milestones I longed for in my 20's of marriage and parenting and I find myself asking "now what".  I find myself wondering if a lot of the things I thought about myself in my 20's were really true or what I wanted them to be.  I feel a lot more vulnerable, a lot less confident, and a lot more overwhelmed.  I don't feel more mature as much as I feel more muddied.

So, as I let the light in, I see where I need to do some dusting and scrubbing.  I am finding more questions than answers but I'm OK with that.

It is that month. The one where people begin to post on facebook everyday what they are thankful for.  The one where we get together to gorge out on turkey and all the fixings.  The one that culminates in a day of thanksgiving.

I am thankful for many things.  I have so much that God has blessed me with.  I just hate that it takes this month to remind me to be thankful.  I do not like that it is not a daily part of my life.  I need it to be.  I am hoping it will be.

I want to live a thankful life.  I want my children to learn to be thankful not only for good manners but as a true act of gratitude for all God has done for us.  I want to model thankfulness so they see not me but the One who the thanks goes to.

My minute thanks to the God of the Universe will never be close to enough for all He has done for me. I want to be thankful toward him each day, not for all the things but for who He is.

I sat in the room watching my daughter struggle to breath.  Her voice was no longer audible.  Her little body was racked with a deep wheezing cough.  Soon the x-ray would show whether or not her lungs were clear.  I held her hand as she struggled against the cold mist coming from the face mask, knowing she could not understand how it would help her.

At that moment, miles away, my mother stands by my grandmother's bedside as they remove her face mask.  The tests have shown her heart can only function at a quarter of it's strength.  Her body is giving out.  Her consciousness is gone.  She struggles to take her last breaths.

Mom calls me and asks me to sing to her over the phone.  As I sing How Great Thou Art, I realizing this is my goodbye to my grandma.  As my daughter's breathing begins to clear, I hold her hand tighter and know that as one life will soon end, another is just at the beginning.

So as my daughter recovers from croup and my family prepares to say goodbye I hold onto this:

As I attended my first writing conference this summer, one of the first questions that I would inevitably be asked is, "When did you start writing?"  I would feel perplexed as I tried to give a polite answer.  I honestly don't know.  I don't have a specific moment of awakening or even a teacher who inspired me (though many were inspiring).  I don't have that "come to Jesus" moment.

To me, writing is like breathing.  It is something I do without thinking.  I may not be poised with pen in hand every moment of the day but ideas come all the time  If I don't write and release all that is in me, I feel like I could burst.  There is an actual physical tension that builds up in me when I don 't write.

I feel weird even writing about it.  I am inadequate to describe it.  I can't control it and I sure didn't choose it.  I am it.  It is an innate part of my being.  If I were stranded on a desert island I would want a pen or pencil and paper.

The paraxical part of it all comes with the fact that I am such a people person.  It is acutally a force of will to make myself sit down, settle down, and write.  I want to be up and going and talking and doing but if I don't write the volcanic tension continues to rise until I take up a pen again.  And yes, I said pen.  Though I am not afraid of my computer, my natural creativity still flows best with pen and paper.  I kick it old school that way.

One of my goals walking away from the writing conference was setting up my own space to write.  When I arrived home it seemed like it was going to be impossible to find the space, money, and time to get it all set up.  Thankfully my husband was willing to part with a piece of furniture and the money we made from selling it was put into a desk.  With it gone, that also opened up the space for said desk.  I have a little organizing to do but my writing corner is ready.  It feels good to accomplish this first goal.

How to say no again and again and again...
Patience
How much I care about what others think, especially about my child.
The deep fear of facing medical issues and yet learning to place him in the Father's hands.
How busy a boy can be and how natural it is for the to make "boy" sounds.
How much it pains me when I have to discipline but how much I need to stay consistent.
How things are just things, and can be destroyed in a matter of seconds.
That his belly laugh can turnaround my day.
That I miss his hugs when he's at school.
The fierce love of a Mother's heart and how easily it can break.How boring my life would be without it, and quiet.
That children truly are a gift from God.

I can't believe he's five but I can't imagine my life without him.  For a long time we waited and prayed and wondered if it was even going to be possible but he is truly an answer to prayer (even when my patience is thin...because God is teaching me through him).

I was not sure how this summer would be.  I have never experienced a "normal" summer growing up.  I was always at camp.  My days were filled with so much adventure and people I didn't have a chance to be bored.  Facing a summer of entertaining my children seemed daunting, especially now that they are older.

Coming toward the end of my summer, I have found I actually am looking forward to having some time to breathe.  The summer had flown by and it has really been fun.  Our days were filled with swimming, playing outside, going to story time at the library and having fun with friends.

There was also camp again!  The kids were able to enjoy two full weeks of camp.  We spent a week of family camp at  BaYouCa as I had the chance to teach the Kids Klub at night.

We took the kids camping for the first time and it was so fun.  We went to the New York State Fair, Fair Haven beach, and Skaneateles.  Each one has a special place in our lives both growing up and Kevin and I as a couple.  It was meaningful to show them where were engaged, what we liked to do in the summer and how these places were.

I combed his hair today.  To most people it is an insignificant task.  For me, it is something that has not happened in almost two years.

 It probably will not last long, but for the moment I can cherish this small thing.  That's the funny thing about Alopecia.  It doesn't give you forewarning.  One moment the hair is there and the next it is falling out.  I

 have learned to hold on loosely.  I have learned to let go.  It will not allow us to become attached before it is gone.  I am still not always used to it.  I would like to say I'm always ok with it but that would not be true.

The truth is, I can joke about it and love him in spite of it but deep down in my heart I wish his hair would grow back.  But, I have taught him that God created him special and he loves him very much and I must hold onto that truth.

They run around, the minds filled with dreams and their imaginations wild with promise. Their little eyes capture the smallest of details and their hands create masterpieces. Their hearts embrace life and open to welcome me in. Their little eyes come toward me as they ask, "Mommy, dance?" I can't walk away. I put down my spoon, stand up, and hold their hands as we twirl around and around. The smile of their face is worth more than a million five star dinners and the memories of these moments are indelably stamped on my heart. I will not say no to this dance. I will cherish these times for tomorrow it will be gone.

I now life in the world of IBD (Inflammatory Bowel Disease) in the form of Ulcerative Colitis. Right now this means that I have alot of anti-inflammatory drugs to take and I never know when something I eat will disagree with me. It has knocked me off my feet some days and I have had to rethink my eating. I am afraid that what I eat is going to upset my system later on so I am leary of everything. Some days I forget that I have it and other days I am miserable all day long. I have had a ton of tests and procedures and am going to be meeting with a nutritionist to help me map out a safe eating plan. I have about 8 books from the library I am reading to begin to understand what I am facing. I truly am learning to rely not only on God but on the body of Christ. I can't keep up with everything and I can't do it all the way I want it and I have had to let that go. I am thankful for a husband who is so supportive and looks out for me. I could not face it without God's grace and my husband's support.

How often have I heard about doing great things for God.  I feel as if the necessity of greatness, fame, and popularity that so inundates our culture has seeped into the modern Christian world in the form of doing great things for God and being all that we can be for him.  I feel as if I spend so much of my time looking for those great and wonderful things that have an incredible impact on the world.


I began to wonder if I was missing something.  Why can't I find this elusive greatness?  Then I remembered a poem my Dad often shared with his staff called Ordinary Days.  Life is filled with ordinary days.  It reminded me that God talks about being the servant of all, doing things unto the least of these, and humbling myself.

What if it's the small things that truly are the great things?  What if scrubbing my kitchen floor or changing  a dirty diaper are the great things?  What if taking a few moments to teach my children to pray or  how to resolve a conflict is the greatest thing I could do that day?  What if I am missing all the great small things  because I am too busy looking for large and mighty monumental events.  What small things am I investing in today?

I am sitting here listening to Jason Grey's "Remind Me Who I Am", I have honestly been feeling like I can't keep my head above water. I feel like I just get on top of things and there are ten more things piled up behind me. I have struggled to even put to words what has been going on because I don't feel like I've had time to feel or think. It feels a lot like a desert. It is dry, I am parched, and the only thing I know to do is keep trudging along. I usually try to take time in the new year to think back on the year before. As I did this, I honestly had a hard time finding how the year had been so wonderful. Yes, there had been some moments of sunshine but as I reflected I realized it had been a much rougher year than I realized. Last year we were hit with multiple health issues. We found out Emma had a heart problem as well and went through her surgery, it was confirmed that Jack had alopeica, and in December we found out I have ulcerative colitis. Kevin jokingly said it is now his turn...I disagree. Mom also has been struggling with high blood pressure and has had mutliple appointments to try and figure out what is causing it. We also experienced loss in various ways. Some of it was the loss of some dreams. Other losses were family, my Grandfather passed away this summer and Kevin's aunt this fall. On top of all of this I have a preschooler and a toddler who are both very active and verbal and we ended up doing a lot of traveling. As I looked over all of it, I realized..."wow, no wonder I am exhausted." I am grateful for many things this last year. My brother became a daddy as the first Warner namesake was born. Jude is a sweetie and I can't wait to meet him in person. My Aunt and Uncle and their family were able to come up to the Adirondacks to visit and it was so much fun to have them here! We also had a visit from Kayli and Liese and it blessed my heart. In the midst of all the reflecting, I have been able to refocus and find rest in knowing that though the desert at times feels lonely, I am never alone. I just need to be reminded of who I am.