the awakening of resistance.

“Life always bursts the boundaries of formulas. Defeat may prove to have been the only path to resurrection, despite its ugliness. I take it for granted that to create a tree I condemn a seed to rot. If the first act of resistance comes too late it is doomed to defeat. But it is, nevertheless, the awakening of resistance. Life may grow from it as from a seed.” 

― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Flight to Arras

i've felt a little lost, all day.  for so long through this ride called Graduate School, i've felt surety and seen clarity--even when ben could neither feel or hear those things himself.  today is rare, when both of those things have been missing inside, and the void of them has knocked me off my normal balance.

it looks as though the Miracles he has been working so hard for are not going to come to fruition--again.  if we accept what he is being told, (which we aren't being given much of an option) then we will be accepting a 3rd extra year of school.  extra.  on top of what is already required.  and as much time as i've spent emotionally preparing myself for this possibility, because i could see us heading for it months ago, today i've finally felt a piece of what this good man has felt for a long time:

weary.

he came home tonight and we hugged, holding on like two deflated balloons trying to cling to whatever small pockets of air were left.  i told him for the first time in a while, i didn't know whether he could look to me for the usual pep-talk-filled-with-affirmations i provide when he walks through the front door of the Pink House with furrowed brows and sadness in his brown eyes.  i no longer felt sure of my speech--tonight i needed someone to give me that lift.

though we will most likely be here another year, we are learning--ben is learning-- this battle is not just about Graduate School, but is his lifelong battle of Worth.  for some that battle takes place in relationships, or careers, or childhood trauma, or addictions.  for him it takes place in School.

we are used to defeat, and have accepted it too easily for most of our lives.  it is what we have both known for so long, in different ways.  but we have been changing these past few years, building ourselves up from the rubble of defeat we once accepted, because we have seen Worth, and God, within us.  this is what pushes us to keep climbing.

he began the real fight today, one that has the potential to turn ugly, quickly.  it's against the grain of our characters to fight this way, contacting Legal Advice with the intention to take this war to the top of the chain of his school.  i'm purposely withholding the details until i can say more, but just the thought of what we might be in for makes the Peacemaker within feel drained.  how is it we can be tired before we've even begun?

we've considered this option in the past, but were too fearful of its repercussions, and held back.  last year the theme was mine to combat Fear in my life, and this year he told me he has adopted the theme as his.  and so, we're 14 days into january and that theme is being challenged.  God hears you when you make these commitments to growth, did you know that?  we don't get to choose how He will show up, whether in small hills or enormous mountains, but we do get to choose to stay committed, take risks, fight fear, awaken our resistance, trust Him--or to run.

ben is packing his suitcases right now, choosing to stay committed.  i am worried for him, and proud of him.

more than anything?  i'm hoping my balance returns tomorrow.

miracles on Pink House Street.

woah, my goodness.

here it is--almost christmas...yet the high for tomorrow is predicted to be 80 degrees.  80!  this afternoon i cleaned the backyard while simultaneously playing house with leah (she was the mother, i was the daughter, and Hippo played the newborn baby), and i began hosing off some of the dusty/dirty outdoor toys.  i rolled up my jeans to hit just below my knees, preventing them from getting wet with the spraying water.  i worked from one end of the yard to the next, throwing away broken plastic, sweeping leaves and wiping surfaces, all the while quietly cracking up as i watched leah bounce around with baby Hippo on her hip.

when i finished, i came inside to dry off my legs, and noticed i had new flip-flop tan lines.  tan lines!  on december 16th!  i'm a girl who was born of christmases filled with frigid temperatures and falling snow, and though this will be our fifth winter in arizona, the december warmth still takes me by surprise.

we are currently working on Miracles over here, in our Pink House.

ben is scrambling to write his dissertation, with the hope he will be able to actually attend the interviews for internship he has accepted to show up for all over the country during the month of january.  his adviser has (again!) told him to accept the fate of not going out on internship this year, with the very unlikely possibility of his dissertation being finished and defended by the date of january 31st, 2014.  we are continuing to (again!) ignore his persistent opinion of ben's demise and push on as though it's meant to all come together.  are we delusional?  quite possibly.  at this point, delusion is all we have.

so although he has been unemployed since the end of november, i have not seen much of him and expect to see even less with the coming weeks.

i have signed myself back up in a group therapy, have i written that yet?  probably not, since i haven't written much lately.  this is something i've wanted to do since the beginning of the year, and for several reasons purposely held off until october.  i am back to fighting that fear again, pushing myself out of my comfort zone in many ways--and then in other ways i am so comfortable in this environment.  i absolutely love it, surrounded by women who are digging out unhealthy while uncovering the source of its roots so they can be moved, changed.  i still have roots there, more subtle and less deep than the last time i started, but they are there.  i sense them when i feel discomfort or fear of vulnerability or desire to be liked.  this environment helps me to sense them quicker and more often, so i can begin my own digging again.  it's both exciting and terrifying, in almost equal parts.

it's come at a perfect time, when i am giving so much that monday mornings have turned into my sanctuary--what i have to count on, just for myself.  i used to feel guilty about needing this.  i no longer do.  after what i learned the last time in group therapy, i know this will mold me to becoming a better version of myself, spilling over into all of my different roles.  i know good comes from this, when my heart is open and vulnerable.

i have my theme for 2014 already picked, but i won't say it yet.  it was a thought that came to me a few days ago, and once it was there, i knew that was it.  working on eliminating fear in 2013 was a stepping stone to getting to this new one, and i can already feel the difficulty that lies ahead.  but i look back at what i have learned this past year, and how free i have felt.  the best part is that i can't remember a time when i didn't feel this way, which is surprising on its own. i used to recognize this feeling as foreign and new, and was hungry for more of it.  now it is what i know--and i feel this is my own small Miracle.

the kids are doing well--leah has recovered from her tonsillectomy but unfortunately still has the sleep apnea we hoped would be cured.  we'll do another sleep study in january to see where things are at with her.  caleb has lost his two front teeth, and went on his first bike ride without one of us there with him.  another Miracle.  ben and i cried when he came home and we heard how well he did.  these things that are so easy for some and a struggle for others--that's what life is all about, isn't it?  recognizing them, overcoming them, crying when we return from the battle.  june is fighting a beast of an illness right now, and is passing it on to us as we drop like flies one-by-one, but otherwise is her usual chattering, puppy-pretending self.

we are busy and happy and stressed and grateful.  i don't love that i haven't made the time to write, because when i look back it appears i've missed so much that's important to remember.  even though i'm living fully in them, when i can't look back and read about them, the hours seem to slip through my fingers as if they've never happened.

though now that i'm looking back, it seems december is like this every year, isn't it?  so i guess we'll just roll up our jeans, enjoy the tan lines while we can, and keep working on Miracles. 

  

embracing the possibility. {on miscarriage, fear, and faith}

"no more kids during grad school!"

i think i've spoken those words more than a hundred (or a thousand?) times since 2009.  i look back on the year leah was born, and if i could draw a timeline of my life, that space would have tiny grey clouds hovering over it, with intermittent downpours of rain.  emotionally i disappeared.  it was a tough one, and i lost myself, not emerging from the gray-ness of it for quite a while.

"no more kids during grad school!"

was what i used as my platform, until the day when two pink lines surprisingly showed up without my wishing for them.  and i was terrified, but accepted what was and tried to smile.  following those pink lines came the pregnancy with what felt like unending months of nausea and unable-to-keep-my-head-up exhaustion followed by a house whose underbelly possessed mold that made my children and i beg for mercy as they vomited and i coughed up blood.

"no more kids during grad school!"

i continued to say, though the months with newborn june are some of the most precious i have ever encountered thus far.  i consider her my Gift for living through the most physically taxing year and not succumbing to negativity when i could feel it pulling from all sides to take me under.

"no more kids during grad school!"

i say this now still, and with fervor as we know our future for the next year or two is so muddled and unclear.  not only that, but one important thing has been missing:  the desire for another.  but, this is normal for me.

i have been content from the beginning--if we only had caleb, i would be content.  only caleb and leah, i would be content.  and now with the three, i feel the same, completely content if this is our family unit.  my problem is that my lack of desire is not necessarily an indicator as to whether or not having another child is what is best, because i'm certain that my fear (of pregnancy, labor, colic, and lonely days and nights shouldering most of the responsibility on my own, and another little body to tend to, just in general) is partially what brings about my contentedness.

and yet.

months ago, i knew something was off.  i felt strange--more drained than i was used to, more sore.  i didn't take a test because i didn't want to know.  it feels awful to type those words, and i'm worried who might be offended but i want to write honestly.  so, i waited.  two more weeks went by and i still refused to make anything official.

then, during one week that was already overflowing in stress, i felt it.  pain in my abdomen that doubled me over.  sitting, standing, or laying, i could not find relief.  i don't take a lot of medicine normally, but was unable to function or perform just the daily activities, so i took something, but even that didn't provide relief from the pain.  this went on for 2 days, accompanied with other details of miscarriage i will exclude here.  i didn't say much to anyone, because i hadn't said anything to anyone of the possibility of being pregnant.  only ben and a couple of others knew, and i preferred for it to stay that way.  it was still just an assumption of what was going on.

during that week, i wrote this.  like i mentioned, it was a stressful time.

i think what surprised me most was the feeling of relief.  then, the feeling of guilt piled on top of relief, because what type of person feels relieved about this?  i am surrounded by those who have prayed and would do almost anything to have this, but i am relieved?  

i wrestled with the words selfish and ungrateful, pushing them away with my acknowledgement of the blessing and miracle of life, and of the love i have for my children.  i knew if i could, i would bless everyone who had a desire to have a child with one.  i don't understand why those desires are granted for some and not for others, as much as i didn't understand why the desire was lacking inside of me at this time.

i know others who have felt connected from the start, only weeks or mere days of just knowing.  i have heard them mourn the loss of the connection they loved and had felt so sure of.  with each pregnancy, i struggle to feel any sort of connection--even up until my new baby is placed in my arms. it is then the feeling of an undeniable bond of love from God for this new soul overcomes me and i can't imagine being apart, even for a moment.  but when i'm pregnant, it all feels like a surreal dream or figment of my imagination, and i struggle to feel connected.

this was one of my main purposes for staying silent.  i wasn't sure how to talk about it without sounding cold or callous, though i didn't feel either of those.  i can only describe it as calm acceptance of what is, and the knowledge that my fears of "no more kids during grad school!" had been temporarily washed away.

before my pregnancy with june, and since then, we've been doing what we can on our side of things to prevent.  we jokingly said we were going to name june Three Percent, because those were the odds we had been facing when i held the positive pregnancy test in my hand.  it was obvious to me that i was clearly not in control of this situation, as much as i wanted to be.

last week, i found myself in the same boat.  drained and nauseous, sore and hyper-sensitive to smells.  i was on a work trip, and began counting backwards in weeks, my suspicions mounting.  once the idea was there, i just knew.  there was no denying it.

while i was away i was receiving daily updates from ben about his school situation, regarding whether or not he was going to be allowed to apply for next year's internship.  i could hear in his voice he was devastated and frustrated, and hadn't really wanted to tell him over the phone anyway, so i waited to say anything.

once i was home and he and i were alone to talk, we both tried to wrap our minds around what this meant for our family.  we fell asleep holding hands, a reminder we were in this journey together.

on saturday afternoon, the pain hit, one i had felt once before.  it increased as the sun went down and i lay in bed trying to find a comfortable position.  i told ben about it and saw the worry on his face.  in the middle of the night, i was woken from the pain, and more.  i knew then it was official and lay back down.  the next 24 hours were miserable, and i stayed in bed as much as possible.

after the worst was over, i rose again, ready to face the emotions i expected were awaiting me. but like before, i only felt calm.  ben admitted to me he was sad, that the idea of another sweet little baby turning into a most-likely outspoken toddler turning into an excitable child was something he was looking forward to, though he also knew how difficult it would be.  i agreed with him, the idea of it all sounded wonderful.  it was the getting there that held my heart in the place of fear.

then, i was silently reminded of my theme for 2013, eradicating fear in my life.  if fear is what is holding me back from this opportunity, is it enough of a reason anymore?  this wasn't a new job or a big move, or making myself sing a solo in front of a crowd.  could i really take a leap of faith this big?


i do not know the answers, yet.  i do know i needed to write about these experiences, if only to hold myself accountable--the words a tangible reminder of a promise i made to myself. maybe the beginning of this year was only preparation for getting me to the place at the end of it where i could let down my wall of "no more kids during grad school!"

and instead, embrace the idea of giving up control ruled by fear, leaving me open to beautiful possibilities.

packed.

it's only monday and this week is already going by too fast.  is that even possible?  maybe it's my tendency to pre-stress about what's ahead, wanting it all to go smoothly.  a lot of good things, but just a lot, coming from someone who likes to run a low profile most of the time.

we're starting caleb in baseball tomorrow and we're all pretty excited about it.  this is one sport that might come easily for him, we play a lot of it in the backyard and he's great at hitting the ball....we'll see how the rest goes.

leah's birthday is on wednesday, and that day is packed full, starting with a field trip with her preschool to a dairy farm, then taking she and a couple of her friends to the aquarium, then dinner, presents and cake with the family.  the only thing she's put in a request for is dolphin cupcakes for her field trip and a my little pony cake for her party.  i think she's on a secret mission to cramp my brilliant idea of a store-bought birthday.

thursday i'm going to meet up with some family for lunch, and then somewhere in between these extra things along with the usual, i need to do laundry and pack because on friday afternoon i fly out to the lovely city of provo, utah!  i'm so excited about the weekend, to spend time with my sister and to meet my new nephew {who is doing much better, home from the NICU last week}.  i'm using allegiant airlines, which i initially thought was going to be so much less expensive...that is until i had to pay for my seat both ways and all of the luggage i'm bringing with me, it sure added up quickly.  sneaky.

anyway, here are a few more pictures from a rainstorm a couple of weeks ago.  we've had more rain this winter than i can remember since we've lived here--and a snowstorm last week!--and the kids {and I} have been in heaven.  our backyard turns into massive puddles and i spend most of my time trying to keep june from lapping up the water on the ground like a little puppy.

my goal to get through this week and keep it all together is to get to bed at a decent time.  is 11 pm decent for anyone else?  for me it's nothing short of a miracle.

i've been up late every night for the past 3 weeks or so working on something that i'm excited about, but won't share yet.   there is something to the "out of my comfort zone" theme for 2013.  so far it's pushed me to do things i normally wouldn't have the hootspa to even consider, let alone actually DO.

karaoke, for one:

{singing "somebody to love" with clancy.  the expression on my face here kills me, it looks like i'm in pain, i'd like to think it was taken when i was belting out a high note and just really 'getting into it.'}

yep, it happened.  i was terrified, even though i was singing to a bunch of drunk people at a bar at 1 o'clock in the morning who i knew i'd most likely never see again.  i was still terrified.

which just reminded me that i've never written about my weekend with rachel and clancy!  so like me...sigh.  another time, i'm supposed to be in bed in 28 minutes and need to wrap up this random post.

wishing you a fantastic week!

a weekend for the soul.

i am here in the sunshine with this lady and this lady for the weekend.  there has been equal parts of laughter and tears, of the good kind.  conversation that ranges from the surface, to political, to the deep heart-burning questions and fears of the spirit.

so far we've stayed awake until the sun has peeked over the horizon, wandered the streets of tempe, eaten delicious gyros, met andrea for dinner and a movie {les mis--i went into the ugly cry--so good}, and taken ridiculous pictures of us leaping and cartwheeling through our hotel.

this is what my life has come to, with friendships.  learning to love myself has brought an ease of opening up that has never existed before, because before needed boundaries and space.  i can provide that for myself now without fear of another taking more than i can give, and it's an incredible thing, to feel free to give and receive more love without walls.

today holds a hike, massage, and then dinner and possibly??  karaoke.  yep, singing in front of a crowd, continuing with the "out of my comfort zone" for 2013.  living with this thought in mind has already changed me, and we're only february 2.  makes me so excited for what the next 10 months hold.

i don't want this weekend to end so i'm going to hold on to every little piece while it lasts.


also? i read this last week and was moved by it. 

"No matter the strikes against me, I am going to worship God. That is how I fight the lies. That is how I know He still works in me."

happy weekend!!