Friday, July 18, 2014

Two and a Half Weeks

Two and a half weeks until school starts. That's it. The lazy days where we lay around in our pjs are almost gone. The mornings spent riding scooters in the driveway - have all but disappeared. The nights when we stay up way too late - won't be happening anymore. Where has the summer gone?

To be honest, usually at this point in the summer, I can't wait to ship my kids off to school. I mean, I need a routine, people. But this year, I'm just not ready for school to start again.

When summer started at the end of May, I was dreading it. Dreading it. Brienne went to visit her Nanna and Pappy in Louisiana for a couple weeks and I was NOT looking forward to being "stuck" at home with the little kids. I could foresee temper tantrums, knock-down drag-out fighting, afternoons spent not napping, and no time to myself. My attitude was terrible which caused the outlook to seem very bleak.

But can I just say that this has been one of the best summers we've ever had? (I hope I'm not jinxing myself since there are still two weeks left.) Now, don't get me wrong. There have been some tantrums. Some fighting. Some afternoons spent not napping. And there hasn't been much time for myself. There have been moments when I wanted to run away. Times when I've felt the need for a heavy dose of medication. (Just being real, y'all.) But for the most part, it's been a great summer.

Brienne took tennis and horseback riding lessons while she was in Louisiana. And when she finally came back to Valdosta, she joined the local swim team and she also started guitar lessons. She just came home from church camp last night, and I have loved hearing all about her crazy friends and the games they played, and seeing her so excited about new worship music makes me almost giddy. I love how she and I can just hang out and talk without too much attitude. I'm amazed at how much I enjoy being with her now that she is growing up. (It sounds like it wasn't ever fun being around her. It totally was! But I love this new older version of her.)



Most days, Jonah and Vivienne completely exhaust me. But that's not necessarily a bad thing. We've spent many mornings playing at a local park, and we've also enjoyed playing at Jump 'n Jacks, which has tons of bounce houses and blow-up slides. Jonah is doing amazingly well in his OT sessions, and his therapist really feels like he will be completely fine in a couple years. That is music to my ears and an answer to my prayers.




Sweet Vivienne is truly an entity unto herself. Some days (and by "some days," I mean every day), I really don't know what to do with her. For instance, she spent three whole days wearing goggles. Who does that? She's bossy and defiant, but she's also loving and giggly. She's my most cuddly child and I love it when she climbs up in my lap for snuggle time.



Just tonight, I was holding back tears of laughter while putting the little kids to bed. We were reading the story about David and Goliath and as I was reading, I pointed to Goliath and asked Jonah who he was. He answered with, "Goliath." We read a little more then I pointed to David and asked Jonah who he was. His answer? "Otis." Otis? Really? How many hundreds of times have we read this story?? Otis? Sheesh.

Then I turned to the story of Jonah and asked, "Should we read the story of Jonah and the Whale next?" And Vivi whined, "No! Read Vivi and the Whale!"

I'm telling you - these kids are a hoot! 

I've recently been studying 1 and 2 Thessalonians and I came across this verse:

"How can we thank God enough for all the joy we have in the presence of our God because of you?"
1 Thess 3:9

Y'all, this is exactly how I feel about my kids. I can not thank God enough for the joy they bring me. They amaze me with their funny sayings and their cute facial expressions and their insights into life. They are precious jewels. Priceless to me.

Two and a half more weeks, then these long summer days will be over. We will rush through breakfasts, hurry off to school, and once again become busy with after-school activities and the hustle and bustle of life.

Two and a half more weeks.

Lord, don't let me take this time for granted. Thank you for the joy my kids bring. 

Saturday, May 31, 2014

Expect the Unexpected

The past couple weeks have been full of excitement at the Terrebonne house. Nanna and Pappy came for a quick visit because THIS happened.



Brie was so excited to complete this milestone, but it was also bittersweet because all her friends will be going to different schools next year.

On the last day of school, the 5th graders got to do a final walk-through of the school and I was there to capture the big event. Honestly, it was a little over-the-top (the principal announced each 5th grader's name and they ran through the halls as the rest of the students in the school lined up, cheering them on), but it was a fun memory and a great way to start the summer.



But do you know what's not a great way to start the summer? Having your three-year-old pee in the Chick Fil A play area. Yep. That's right. After Brienne's final walk-through, we decided to celebrate with chicken nuggets and fries. After the kids finished eating, Jonah wanted to go play. I sent him into the play area and then noticed that Vivienne's diaper was very wet. I took her out to the car to get another diaper and I realized that I didn't have any more size 3 diapers in my bag. I did, however, have some of Jonah's size 6 diapers, which I thought was strange, seeing as how he's "potty trained" and all. Anyway, I did what any good mom would do - I put Jonah's ginormous diaper on Vivienne. It practically swallowed her, but what else was I gonna do?

I went back into Chick Fil A and Brienne greeted me with the news that Jonah had peed in the play area. Fantastic. I watched him happily come down the slide and noticed that his shorts were soaked. This was not an "Oops I just had a tiny little accident" accident. This was a major soaking. Like he had been holding it in for hours. (And, come to think of it, it had been quite a while since our last trip to the toilet. Oops. Mommy fail.) I scooped him up as he kicked and screamed that he didn't want to leave, I grabbed my purse and my half-eaten lunch (because, hello, we don't waste Chick Fil A), I ran to the counter to tell them about our "little" accident, and then I headed to the car to find some dry clothes. And this is when I realized that I desperately need to restock my supplies. The only thing I had for Jonah was a pair of jeans that were two inches too short. Great. All I could do was laugh...

I'm pretty sure I won't be winning any super mom awards anytime soon.

You know what else is not very fun? Listening to your kids fight over toys. Honestly, sometimes I just want to go hide and see if they can work it out by themselves. Without having to transport someone to the ER. Sometimes, they figure it out, but other times, someone gets punched or kicked. I tell Jonah quite often that he is the big brother, that he needs to set an example, and that he is Vivienne's protector. I even bought him a superman cape so he could be her "hero." This is how that worked out.



I'm not sure which kid is the bigger bully.

Sometimes in life, we are met with the unexpected. It might be a "good" unexpected. Like when the hubby brings home your favorite cupcake (chocolate cream, please and thank you). Or it might be a "not-so-good" unexpected. Like when you put on your favorite pair of heels and realize you now have old people feet and can no longer wear cute shoes. (This may or may not have recently happened to someone I know.)

Anyway, it's impossible to be completely prepared for everything life throws at you. And that's ok. We were never meant to have all the answers. (Although a fully stocked diaper bag would be a good thing to keep handy.)

I recently came across a scripture out of the book of Psalms:

"I cried out, 'I am slipping!' but your unfailing love, O Lord, supported me. When doubts filled my mind, your comfort gave me renewed hope and cheer."
Psalm 94:18-19

Isn't that an amazing promise? Even if we feel like we're slipping, like we can't keep up with everything the world thinks we should be, God is always supporting us. When we fall, he catches us. When we doubt our abilities as a mom, as a wife, as a friend, He gives us the hope we need to keep going.

Sometimes all we need to do is ask for wisdom. Because He is faithful to show us what we need in order to prepare us for whatever unexpected thing life throws at us. He is faithful to lead us down the right path. He is faithful to renew our hope. He is faithful to support us.

Hear me on this:

He is faithful.

So, my friends, this is my prayer for you:

"(I'm) asking God, the glorious Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, to give you spiritual wisdom and insight so that you might grow in your knowledge of God. I pray that your hearts will be flooded with light so that you can understand the confident hope he has given to those he called - his holy people who are his rich and glorious inheritance."
Ephesians 1:17-18

(Now go restock that diaper bag.)

Wednesday, May 7, 2014

Mercy, Time-Outs, and Chocolate

Recently, a friend mentioned how we should always strive to maintain control of our emotions and that we should extend grace to our children when they frustrate us.

Can I just say that I failed miserably at this last week? (And people who are gentle and self-controlled and have perfectly wonderful, compliant children make me ill.) (But I guess that's not "maintaining control of my emotions...")

Anyway, last week, Peter went out of town from Sunday to Sunday. (He was home for about 24 hours on Thursday, but it didn't really count because he worked all day and had class that night.) While he was gone, I was a wreck.

First of all, let me say that I've never been one of those women who pine after her husband when he's away. I don't stay up all night crying when he's gone. That's just not who I am. Basically throughout our entire relationship, Peter would be home for a month or so, then he would be gone for a bit. In fact, for most of the first year that we dated, he was stationed in Florida for training and I was in grad school in Louisiana. So the long-distance thing was just part of the package. Since we've been married, he has deployed 5 times and has been TDY too many times to count. It's just the way of life in the military and it has always been no big deal for us. In fact, sometimes in the past when he'd been home for an extended period of time, we would even "joke" that it was time for him to go on another trip. (Oh, don't judge me. I know you've all felt that same way about your husband once or twice.)

But something has happened to me over the past year. Maybe it's the addition of a third child. Maybe it's the fact that I'm getting older. I don't know. I just know I'm turning into a sap.

Like last week...

Last Monday, Jonah got sick. Coughing, green sticky snot (sorry for those who don't have kids and are grossed out by that image), and a very painful ear infection. Then Wednesday, Vivi woke up sick. Thursday, Jonah's fever spiked to 104, so, super fun. Whiny kids everywhere. And I don't even want to get into the Brienne drama. Let's just say being a 10 year old girl is hard work. Friday morning I had to call a plumber because, plumbing problems. And also that morning, our thirteen year old dog had a seizure. (Apparently he's fine, by the way, although I felt certain he was going to die while Peter was gone, and what was I supposed to do with that??)

And then of course we had all the normal daily routines: grocery shopping, never-ending laundry, sibling rivalries, bath time (sometimes accompanied by poop in the tub), a hand towel being thrown in the toilet, tantrums over books, forcing/bribing/begging the kids to eat their dinner, etc etc.

All the little things just kept adding up and I kept wondering what would happen next. Will the air conditioning go out? Will the van break down? Nothing would've surprised me.

My hidden stash of chocolate was depleted.

I had just about had enough.

So one afternoon I lost control of my emotions, and I yelled at my kids.

And then the attacks from satan began.

"You are a terrible mother."

"Godly mothers never yell at their children."

"Good mothers love their children and never feel anger towards them."

"Maybe you're not meant to be the mother of these children. They should have a mother who loves them."

"You're scarring your children and they will be in therapy for years because of you."

I felt like satan was attacking my call to motherhood. Have you ever felt like that?

Obviously, guilt is never from God. And I was feeling desperately guilty. Why wasn't I good enough? Why couldn't I control my outbursts? Am I scarring my kids for life?

The Lord convicts us of our shortcomings but He never makes us feel guilty. And He is so faithful to grant grace to us. But I need to be better about giving grace to myself when I fail. No one is perfect. And God doesn't expect us to be perfect. He does, however, want us to strive to be like Him. To love like He loves, to grant mercy when our children mess up, to pick ourselves back up when we feel desperately incapable of raising little humans.

And I think it's important to pray with fervor for our family.

"Father, give me your unconditional love for my kids, even on the hardest days when I don't like them very much."

"Teach me to demonstrate self-control when I feel like I'm falling apart."

"Mold me into Your likeness, Jesus."

Because isn't that really the point? To live like Christ? To completely depend on Him to get us through our days? If we are truly followers of Christ, we should rely on Him for everything. Everything. We can vent our frustrations to Him. He can handle it. He is big enough for our problems. And He will give us patience and love and self-control and joy.

I've been thinking about last week and how I could've reacted differently.

I need to be intentional about spending time with The Lord each morning. Last week I was so tired. Parenting alone can be so exhausting, and I didn't exactly want to get up at 5:45 every morning to read God's Word and spend time with Him in prayer. But on the days when I did get up and have some quiet time, I was calmer and better prepared for whatever was thrown at me.

I need to lower my expectations for the day. Sometimes I wake up and decide that today will be the day I finish that book I've been reading or today I'm going to take a nap or today I'm going to... (you fill in the blank). When I have selfish expectations for the day and they don't come to fruition, I find myself getting frustrated with my kids and with all of their requests for my attention. (I mean, I just want to sit for 20 minutes and catch up on a tv show. Is that asking too much?) But when I start the day with no expectations other than being a good mom and serving my children, we all have a better day.

When I am frustrated, I need to remove myself (or the offending child) from the situation. When I reach a point where I just can't take it anymore,  I need to take a deep breath, count to 10, put myself in timeout, or take the child who's making me crazy to his room for a bit. Just so I can cool down and figure out how to respond appropriately to the offense. Timeouts work wonders. For all of us...

I need to get more rest. Now obviously this isn't always possible. I mean, Vivienne still wakes up in the middle of the night sometimes. (I wonder if she'll still be waking me up at 12:45 a.m. when she's 15. Probably...) However, maybe some nights I need to forget the dishes in the sink and just go to bed at 8:30 in order to ensure that I get a bit more sleep.

I need to gain perspective. Perspective is always a wonderful thing. Life could always be worse and there is always something to be thankful for, even on the most difficult days.

These are just a few ways to regain my composure when my kids decide to frustrate me. I could also threaten Peter so that he won't go out of town anymore (but somehow I think that might backfire on me).

And of course, a secret stash of chocolate never hurts...

Tuesday, April 8, 2014

Plagues and Prayers

Insomnia is the pits. Especially when my favorite thing to do is sleep.

Lately I have been plagued by sleepless nights. The last time I suffered from insomnia was when Peter was deployed for a year. He was getting shot at and bombs were exploding all around him so I think it was sort of acceptable for me to stay up, worrying about his safety.

But now, there is no explanation.

My body is so exhausted. For the first thirteen months of Vivienne's life, I didn't sleep. She was up every couple hours to eat so by the time I fell asleep from one feeding, it was time for another one. By the time she finally started sleeping through the night, I had forgotten how wonderful it was to sleep seven straight hours.

But lately, I've had significant difficulty sleeping. I just can't seem to shut my mind off. Why is that? And why do men have absolutely no trouble sleeping? It's irritating. Peter can fall aleep anywhere at any time. But me? Even on the days when I'm completely exhausted and I try to sneak in a little nap, it's a no go.

And Peter has no difficulty tuning things out when he's sleeping. Last night, Vivienne decided to wake up at 1:20 crying, "Book! Book!" You know how most kids sleep with stuffed animals or soft blankets? Well, Vivi sleeps with books. And sometimes she loses the book in the middle of the night so I have to go find it. That's what happened last night.

After listening to her cry on the baby monitor, I finally got up, stumbled to her room and felt around in the dark on my hands and knees until I finally found the stupid book. I gave it back to her, she laid back down, and she fell right to sleep. I then stumbled back to my room, crawled in the bed, and bam! I'm wide awake. I tossed and turned while Peter snored beside me. Irritating! At 2:30, I finally decided to get up and read the Bible.

And hey, you know what's not a cure for insomnia? Reading about wars and false gods and plagues of tumors and gouging people's eyes out. Thanks for the nightmares, Samuel...

I think I posted a few months ago that I was praying through the Bible for Brienne. I don't think I truly grasped the enormity of this endeavor when I began. Let me just say this - I'm currently praying through 1 Samuel in the Old Testament and Mark in the New Testament.

It's slow going, people.

There aren't a whole lot of verses that I can pray from the OT. How about this: "God said that He will give you a baby so don't let your handmaiden sleep with your husband." Or maybe this: "Try to avoid selling your brother to some gypsies just because you think Daddy likes him better." I'm telling you, some of those stories are crazier than reality TV. There were some screwed up families back in the day.

And there are some screwed up families now, too. Just this morning I was watching the news and they were advertising a new reality show. (As if we need another reality tv program.) I didn't hear the entire promo but I think the basic premise was this - the grandson became a huge YouTube star and decided to move the whole family to Hollywood from Georgia. I don't know how he became an "Internet Sensation" and I'm not sure I want to know. I mean, seriously, where do they find these people? But as I was listening to the crazy talk, all I could think was that that family needs Jesus.

Y'all, I can not begin to tell you how many things I've done in my life that I would change. So many things that I'm embarrassed and humiliated about. Things I would rather my kids never know about me. And I can pretty much guarantee that they won't find out about those things unless I tell them. But what about these reality stars? In ten or fifteen years, will they be proud of the choices they've made? Or will they one day be ashamed to let their grandchildren watch their escapades?

Honestly, I'm embarrassed for them.

But more than likely, I will never come in contact with a reality tv star. I will, however, come in contact with people who need Jesus.

Today, I took Jonah to a play date with some other children with autism. As I sat around, watching these precious children, I heard some constant themes from their moms. Frustration with school systems, difficulty getting appropriate therapies for their children, hopelessness, and physical and emotional exhaustion. As I sat with these new friends, I realized that they need Jesus.

Who else is able to give you peace in a storm? Who else is able to bring you out of the pit of depression? Who else is able to give you wisdom to know what is best for your child?

Only Jesus. Precious Jesus.

I've been praying for opportunities to tell others about Christ, and I believe God put this group of women in my life so that I can show them the Jesus that I know. These women realize that I understand exactly what they're going through because I also have a child with autism. We can relate to each other and share our concerns. But I can do something more - I can give them hope. I can introduce them to Jesus.

So tonight, when I can't sleep, I'll pray through the next part of 1 Samuel and Mark for Brienne. But I'll also be praying for these women - that The Lord will open their hearts to Him and that I will be bold in telling them about Christ. Will you pray with me?


Monday, March 24, 2014

Someone Is Watching

I learn something new from my kids all the time.

I've learned to stop and enjoy the rain pouring from the sky.

I've learned to take a break from chores and run around the house, giggling.

I've learned to relax and enjoy a little cartoon time with them.

I've learned to immediately empty the little potty before Vivienne pours the pee out all over the playroom carpet. 

Yes, they teach me something new. Every. Day.

When Brienne was three years old, she could throw an unbelievable tantrum. I remember thinking that her behavior couldn't get much worse. Then along came Jonah with all his issues and he made Brienne look like an angel. But nothing could compare to Vivienne. Don't let her precious little face and sweet smile fool you. She can punch you in the mouth while smiling innocently. She can steal a toy from Jonah and then come to me and tattle on him! She can throw every piece of food on the floor while looking you directly in the eye. She is strong-willed and won't back down from a challenge.

But she is also watching me. Looking to me in order to see how she should act. Just the other day, I was wearing some flip flops and she decided she needed some too. I found an old pair of Jonah's and put them on her feet. She was so proud of herself. I was standing in the playroom wearing my flip flops, leaning against the doorframe with my arms crossed. She looked at me, and then she stood in the exact same position that I was standing in - leaning against the door frame in her flip flops, arms crossed. It was so cute and hilarious. My mom and I giggled about it. But in reality, it scared me a little. I mean, she is truly watching everything I say and do. Everything.

When I lose my temper, she is watching.

When I'm too exhausted to get off the couch, she is watching.

When I choose my iPhone instead of choosing to play with her, she is watching.

When I cry, she is watching.

When I choose despair instead of joy, she is watching.

My kids are watching every time I mess up. But they are also watching when I (occasionally) get things right. And sometimes they surprise me.

Like when Brienne asked all her friends to donate shoes for orphans instead of bringing gifts for her 10th birthday.

Like when Vivienne serves Jonah by taking him a snack or giving him his favorite toy.

Like when Jonah displays empathy toward Vivienne. If Jonah has a cup of juice or a snack of goldfish but Vivienne doesn't have anything, Jonah will start crying because he thinks Vivienne needs what he's got. And at first, I thought his crying was sweet, but after listening to the whining multiple times a day, it started to become a little annoying. (I mean, clearly, Vivienne does not want her juice. She just threw it down five times.)

But as I analyzed the situation, I realized that Jonah just wants Vivienne to enjoy the same things that he enjoys. He doesn't want her to miss out on the goodness that he is experiencing.

And it got me thinking. How often do I cry out for the poor? For those that don't have a roof over their heads or food on their tables. What about my neighbors who don't have the joy of Christ? Do I have empathy for them? Do I even care about the problems of those around me? Of those around the world?

So many times I find myself drawn to people who are just like me. People who don't have a lot of "needs." People who already love Christ so they don't need me to tell them about His joy.

But I know there are other people watching me. The people on the sidelines. The young mom whose child has autism and she has no hope for his future. The homeless man on the street corner who sees me walk by in my "Jesus loves you" t-shirt. The little girl down the street whose parents never seem to care where she is. These people are watching to see if I'm going to lend a hand. To see if I am who I say I am. They are looking for Christ in me.

And here's the thing - I don't want those people to just be "sideline people" in my life. I want to show them Christ's love. Because He loves me and gives me grace and mercy, I am called to do the same for those around me. James 4:17 says that "if anyone, then, knows the good they ought to do and doesn't do it, it is sin for them." What an amazing and convicting verse!

I am praying for opportunities to show the love of Christ in my neighborhood and in our community. I want to be a light in the darkness. I want to help give people hope in their despair. I need to show Christ to those around me.

Because someone is always watching.








Friday, February 14, 2014

Great Expectations

This is how I spent Valentine's Day 2014. I know you all are super jealous.


I've got one kid who needs to be potty-trained (aka Jonah, the 3-year old wild man) and another kid who doesn't want to be left out of anything that's going on in our house (aka Vivienne, the 1-year old little mama). I can't keep up. I don't know how parents of twins do it.

Actually, I'm only really potty-training Jonah at this point. If I can get him to catch on, then we'll work on Vivienne. Because she thinks she is ready. She wants to be grown up but I just want to keep her small for a while longer. She is the baby, after all. And, Lord willing, there will be no other babies coming from this body. Because we are D-O-N-E. Anyway...

We (and by "we," I mean "I") attempted this potty training thing with Jonah last fall, and it was a major fail. He had absolutely no desire to teetee in the potty and every time I made him sit, there was screaming, kicking, yelling, crying, and gnashing of teeth. And only some of that was from Jonah. It was one of the most miserable experiences of my life and I'm not exaggerating. I finally gave up because I didn't have the energy, stamina, or desire to fight with him.

Fast-forward a few months and things are completely different. Of course, I'm pretty sure I can't take much credit for this miraculous turn of events. A couple weeks ago, two ABA therapists (ABA stands for Applied Behavioral Analysis) started coming to our house three times a week to help us work on things that are difficult for Jonah. Big surprise - potty training made the top of the list.

These people are freakin' geniuses. They can get him to do just about anything. Sort of like a circus monkey. Every time they come, I'm amazed at the things Jonah can do. Like learning new language skills. Like actually putting his own shirt on. Like peeing in the potty. It's astonishing.

Peter is always at work when the ABA therapists are here, and one day he said this to me : "It must be weird to have some strange person in your house teaching you how to parent."

Um, yeah. Thanks for that, my love.

But actually it is sort of weird. I mean, we raised Brienne and she turned out mostly alright. And we were ten years younger and a lot more stupid when we had her. But after seeing how quickly Jonah picked up some skills with the ABA therapists, I was beginning to feel like a slacker parent. Sort of like I had set my expectations too low for him.

I think I sometimes do this with the Lord too. I set my expectations too low. I don't pray big prayers. I try not to get my hopes up in case He disappoints me or He doesn't answer my prayers the way I think He should. Recently, I was praying for healing for someone but chose not to tell Brienne about this person's illness for fear he wouldn't be healed and she would be disappointed in God. Instead, I kept a blessing from her because this person was healed and she never even knew he was sick. She missed an opportunity to see a miracle and give God the glory all because of my weak faith. I often tend to think that it's just easier to do things myself instead of believing and trusting the One who loves me more than I could fathom.

But when we decide that we have all the answers, we miss out on miracles. We miss the opportunities to see God show out on our behalf. I don't want to miss those blessings.

With Jonah, though, I realized that we weren't being slackers. We do need help teaching Jonah to get dressed. We do need help teaching him to sit and wait. We need help because he learns differently. And that's ok.

A friend introduced me to a website where you can find your birth verse. It's a pretty neat idea - a verse that is completely unique to you based on the day you were born. Here is Jonah's birth verse:

"The earth is the Lord's and everything in it." 1 Cor 10:26

My first reaction to this verse was, Big deal. Everything belongs to God. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

But the more I thought about it, the more I let the truth of this scripture sink in. Jonah belongs to the Lord. Christ knew Jonah before we were even aware of the possibility of Jonah. He knew that Jonah would have to learn things in a different way than most people. He knew we would need assistance with some things. So instead of feeling like a slacker or entertaining feelings of defeat or despair, I'm choosing to be thankful for people who are trained to help families like ours.

And I'm choosing to trust Christ to help me when I feel unbelief setting in. I'm choosing to let go of my low expectations and to trust Him with my desires, my fears, my prayers, and my hopes. Because He is good and wants the best for my family.

And hey, Jonah didn't have a single potty accident all morning. It's a miracle! Happy Valentine's Day to me!

Friday, January 3, 2014

He Makes All Things New

Happy New Year!

It's hard to believe that it is 2014. I sometimes still find myself writing 1990-something, so this 2014 thing seems a little crazy to me. I mean, do you realize that the kids who will be entering high school this fall were born in the year 2000?!?! What the what???

As this new year begins, I find myself reflecting on the past year. 2013 was really good in a lot of ways. Peter completed his first Ironman, Brienne is thriving in school and has some great friends, Jonah's language has exploded and he is doing well in preschool, and Vivienne has become our little social butterfly. We've visited with family, vacationed at the beach, and just hung out. It's been a good year.

But 2013 was also a really hard year for us. It will forever be known as the year Jonah was diagnosed with autism and our world fell apart. Maybe that seems a little dramatic - maybe our world didn't fall apart. But it was rocked beyond anything we could've imagined.

Autism is scary. I hate to admit it, but it is. It's scary for me and Peter because we don't know what to expect as Jonah grows. It's scary because we know the stress that autism causes within a family. Did you know that 90% of couples who have an autistic child end up divorcing? Ninety percent... That's the same percentage as parents who have lost a child to death. And sometimes that's what it feels like - our hopes and dreams for Jonah have died and we have had to grieve what "could've been." Peter and I are determined to beat that divorce statistic, but we know it won't be easy. We have to keep our lines of communication open, realize when we need outside help, and seek The Lord in everything.

And we have had to develop different goals for Jonah, different dreams. A "Plan B." No one wants to go to their Plan B, but that's what we are doing. Pastor Pete Wilson says this: "The knowledge of God's love is not going to make the pain of Plan B go away. But we can allow His love to become the fuel that sustains us through the long, difficult days ahead."

This is the truth I cling to. That Christ's love will sustain us.

I recently came across a passage in Isaiah that resonated with me.

"But forget all that-
It is nothing compared to what I am going to do.
For I am about to do something new.
See, I have already begun!"
Is 43:18-19

This passage gives me hope. And hope is precious around here. I can look at the past and see the many miracles Christ performed for me, in me. I can see all the answered prayers. But He says that what He is about to do will surpass anything He has done in the past. I am claiming Isaiah 43:18-19 for our family this year. I want Christ to do something new in me, in Jonah, and in our family.

I know that God is sovereign and He has a purpose. He will be glorified through Jonah if we allow it. What satan meant for evil and despair, God will use for good. I am trusting that my faith isn't so shallow that I doubt God just because He puts some difficulties in our path.

This year, our family has a lot to be thankful for. And we also have many things to pray for. Brienne will enter middle school (ack!), Jonah has a long road ahead of him, we have to make a decision about where to move after leaving Valdosta.

And these are only the "big" worries. Thankfully, my God is greater than my worries.

So in this new year, I will trust Him to carry us through the hard days, to give us peace.

And I will trust that He is about to do something new.