hello 2013.

no one told me that my 30's would bring the creeping anxiety. There has been enough bad news over the past month to make me crawl in a hole. Never drive. Never let me kids leave the house. you get it. you know it, too. If you are living, you know it.

But you can't stay there, I know I can't. How people get to that is different, but for me, it's faith in something that is bigger than me. It's waking up, and believing that God loves me. That whatever comes our way, we can held by His love.

I don't know how you get there when your baby gets shot by a mad man, or your wife gets killed in the car you were driving. Or you get the "news" that changes everything.

For us, it's a tumor the size of a pea, that for the most part is causing no problems at all, and may never cause a problem at all.

but it's the knowing, that something doesn't belong.

but the cracks in all our lives are filled with this. the knowing.

Sometimes it is more acute than others. For me, the last few weeks have been that way.

I ask God, when I am brave enough, "why?" Why so much pain? Why am I so scared?

I feel the weight of the world piling on, and then I remember- the weight is on Him.

This is a mystery.

But I am letting Him have it.

at least I am going to give it a good try.

getting it out there (some news)

but first, a poem. a carol. 

 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)

      Christmas Bells

    I HEARD the bells on Christmas Day 

    Their old, familiar carols play, 

        And wild and sweet 

        The words repeat 

    Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

    And thought how, as the day had come, 

    The belfries of all Christendom 

        Had rolled along 

        The unbroken song 

    Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

    Till ringing, singing on its way, 

    The world revolved from night to day, 

        A voice, a chime, 

        A chant sublime 

    Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

    Then from each black, accursed mouth 

    The cannon thundered in the South, 

        And with the sound 

        The carols drowned 

    Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

    It was as if an earthquake rent 

    The hearth-stones of a continent, 

        And made forlorn 

        The households born 

    Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

    And in despair I bowed my head; 

    "There is no peace on earth," I said; 

        "For hate is strong, 

        And mocks the song 

    Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"

    Then pealed the bells more loud and deep: 

    "God is not dead, nor doth He sleep; 

        The Wrong shall fail, 

        The Right prevail, 

    With peace on earth, good-will to men."

We found out yesterday that Josh has another small tumor in his spine. The radiologist feels certain after reviewing the scans from last year, that the tumor has been there all along- which provides me with some comfort as it is not something "new".

The good news is that it is very small- so small it could prove difficult for the surgeon to even find it if he were to operate. He DOESN'T want to operate right now- says he wants to monitor it with scans. If he does operate eventually, the location is much safer and the surgery, in his words, "less complicated".

He told Josh to keep perspective, that this wasn't the worst case scenario kind of situation- not nearly as grave as last years situation.

Our order were to get healthier- he's already pretty healthy- but to step up the exercise and core strength- as two back surgeries would be tough on his body down the road.

So that's it. We were pretty down last night, not expecting the news at all. But all in all, we feel ok. 

I, like most of you, have felt heart broken over this past weeks tragedy.A friend posted this poem/song- and I could not find more appropriate words for the way my heart feels on every front.

But "God is not dead, nor doth He sleep, the Wrong shall fail, the Right prevail".

Thanks be to God.

you are four.

* I, like I am certain every breathing person in this country with a soul, has been deeply saddened by the events of this week. That actually doesn't even capture the emotion. Grieved, that deep in the gut sadness, is more like it. I turn on the news, that is all I feel. It's so sad, I have yet to really be able to think about comfort or God in this. I know both are to be found, but watching that sweet Dad on the news yesterday, was almost too much to handle. So, as my 4 year old woke me up at 5:50 this morning, on her birthday, it is with a sweet recognition, that her warm breathe tells me she is awake. awake.

Dear Annie,

You are four today. This day four years ago was filled with drama, and it would actually be late into the night until I would get to see your face. It was the happiest moment of my life.

You were and are tenacious. Happy, energetic. You love people, and are genuinely silly. You walk into any situation with confidence.

You totally wear me out most days. We had a hard week, let's keep this little letter real, but you have no idea the depths I am willing to fight for you.

Fight for you to learn to trust me, to obey. It's hard for a soul like yours, but you are getting it, and you feel sad with things go the wrong way.

That kind of sadness is good. I think.

This week you broke my 2nd ipad. Last year, it tumbled to the stone floor, and I was grieved for days as it was a gift. I replaced it with my own money for 1/2 price (thankyou, apple), bought a nice cover, determined to keep it safe. This week, you ran through the dining room, with my ipad, in the nice cover, took a spill and shattered the screen. I was beyond grieved (again) about this stupid earthly possession, but I didn't yell (this was  a miracle), but quietly told you I needed a "moment". And (and I am embarrassed to admit), went into the kitchen and cried over my shattered ipad. That night, in your prayers, your daddy told me you prayed,

"Dear Jejus, I am so sorry I broke mommy's peter (computer). I've been so sorry all day."

I think we both learned a lesson that day.

Today we will eat pink cake and go see Santa. Family will eat chili tonight and we'll sing you happy birthday.

The day you were born changed me forever. It really did. My heart is different because you are here.

We are all different because of you. You have a gift, Annie, and my prayer is that God will use it for His glory.

All of my love.
Mommy

merry christmas!