Blessings and Raindrops

The past several days have been spent sorting through thousands of digital photos from 2012. I am officially two years behind on my yearly photo book “anniversary gift” for Dave and I really want to get these projects tackled before Charlotte’s arrival.

Although it was hard to pick and choose which photos made the cut {and I had to cut since I literally maxed out the number of pages allowed in an album}, I have absolutely loved looking back on all of these photos. The big milestones and the mundane moments of our everyday lives.

So much has happened in our little family in just two short years. The boys have grown and changed way more than I had realized…

April 2012. They were supposed to be filling a bowl with water for the dogs. A-hem. Maybe they haven’t changed all that much, after all.

April 2012. The fishermen of today were not so impressed with “fishy’s” back then.

2012 was the year we officially announced our desire to adopt. We had no idea what we were getting into at the time. We were still bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as we stepped out in faith on this path.

March 2012. These two were BABIES! What were we thinking??? God clearly did a number on our hearts. We were just starting to come up for air after making it through the first year alive with twins. Honestly, their first birthday party was a “we all survived!” celebration. {I’m only half-joking. That first year with twins is H.A.R.D.}.

Here we are, two years later, bruised, battle-scarred and weary. Despite our circumstances and our ache to have our daughter in our arms forever, we are grateful for the path. Our faith has been tried and tested and our Father can get every ounce of credit for any strength we have today. He has carried us and continues to hold us close.

We don’t know what the next two years will look like but we can fully trust that He does. For that, I am grateful. That is freeing. I can release it all onto Him.

Nothing that has happened in our lives has come as a surprise to Him and nothing that is to come will catch Him off guard. I may be tossed about in the waves of life, I may lose my footing and take my eyes off of my Abba Father, I may falter and doubt, I may lose hope, I may lean toward bitterness and anger, I may question His plans… but HE. He is ONLY, absolutely, completely and fully good. He will not let me go. He will pursue me with His abundant love and His unending grace all the days of my life.

I can hardly grasp those truths. I can only fall to my knees in reverent awe and gratitude.

As we stand at the cusp of change, knowing that in a few short weeks {or sooner?} our family dynamic will forever be transformed by a snuggly newborn bundle, I can trust in His sovereignty and goodness. I simply need to feel the precious miracle kicking my ribs as I type these words to find proof. The fact that I will be blessed with another little love to call me ‘momma’… it is too much. Too much for my heart to take in. Knowing that I will soon be holding an unexpected gift of new life brings tears to my eyes. This baby girl, so very loved, will forever be a testament to God’s goodness. I can trust her, along with my precious boys and my beloved S into His hands. He has only good, beautiful things in store. For He promises that His plans are always for our good.

If you know my husband, you know that he loves a good bonfire. We have lived in five different homes over the past ten years and we have had the fire department called to each one. It typically involves an overly-dried Christmas tree {those things light quickly and the flames rise really high}. One year, he bought a contraption called the “fire chief” with the purpose of cooking over an open flame. He decided to roast a turkey one night and we were paid a visit by a few firemen who had to call in and explain that we were just roasting a turkey in our backyard. I always wonder: Do normal people do these things?? 


For the past several months, we have slowly been clearing our land out here at the farmhouse, resulting in several monstrous piles of trees. Dave decided that last weekend was the perfect time for his self-proclaimed epic bonfire. We invited our family and small group from church and decided it would be a fun night to break in our new pizza oven, as well.

That pizza oven, by the way, was a pre-planned purchase by Dave … it just so happened to be on clearance one night as we were killing time at Cabella’s before dinner. Why were we in Cabella’s in the first place you ask? Dave suggested it before dinner when we just-so-happened to be right near the restaurant that he had suggested. All pre-meditated, I realize now. This pizza oven was in the “bargain cave” and he had already been eyeing it. He convinced me that it would be a perfect addition to the farmhouse… as I’ve always wanted to move to Tuscany and have a real wood-burning pizza oven in the backyard of our historic villa. This was practically the same thing. I envisioned weekend nights this summer spent outside grilling pizzas with friends and found myself convincing him to buy it. {How does he do that?!}

I will say that it was a wonderful purchase. We have already used it four times in the past week – ha! We are slightly obsessed with homemade pizza. And, if I close my eyes while I eat my slice, I can almost imagine that I’m sitting in my favorite little Tuscan town, Greve in Chianti. 🙂

Back to the epic bonfire…

Everything started out rather tame and family-friendly.

But, the piles started getting a little out of control.

Y’all. It looked like we were in a war zone. This was the view from my kitchen:

We have a neighbor building behind us and he decided to join in on the action. His fire was a teensy bit too close to his house, resulting in the fire department arriving.

And, not just one firetruck. There were six. SIX trucks. We all joked that this could send me into labor.

None of this stopped us from building another, smaller fire for the kids to roast marshmallows. At this point, why not?!

Thankfully, everyone was safe and the neighbor’s house is fine. We all had so much fun and memories were most definitely made.

And, almost a week later, the piles are still smoking and burning a little. Now, this is the kind of stuff you can only do in the country. Ha!