Revamp

As you may have noticed my blog is looking a little bare.... not sure what happened. I'm not techy that way. But, I'll be working on a revamp in the next couple of weeks :) Thanks so much for your patience!

Hope you are enjoying the last bit of summer as much as we are!!

Much Love,
Kayla

Shatter the Darkness.

As many of you who read this already know... I'm not the greatest at blogging consistently. It could possibly be the fact that I'm far too busy staring at my newborn daughter... or that the Lord and I have spent a lot of time together in the wee hours of morning together lately... hashing some things out. Could be that my heart has all the words... but my fingers can't seem to find the keys.

During my entire walk with the Lord... Okay... I'll be honest... walk isn't really the right word for me... During my entire love affair with Jesus the most ardent, consistent, pleading prayer I have ever prayed has been simple.

"Give me your heart..."

I have wanted and ached for that more than anything else. To be the gospel here... now... in the midst of a life that sometimes feels so... ordinary. And I've been battling lately with a few very real truths. I fell in love with Him on a basement floor in Chicago and my heart came alive... and then part of my heart died in the slums of Africa... And at 20 years old I held a baby boy who changed the entire course of my life... and at 21 I married a man who changed the course even further... and somewhere in the last several months... the months where we didn't know if she would live or die... the lights of all I thought I knew about Him went out... and I felt like He left me standing in the dark.

And you're probably wondering what's wrong with me because my daughter is a miracle and she lived and the story ends with happily ever after right?

And I haven't said it here because how do you say it...? In those months I stopped seeing people... really seeing them. And I didn't want to enter into their hearts or their pain and I didn't want to know their stories and that's not normal for me because I'm generally the person who introduces myself and then asks you what your deepest hurt it... I'm not very good with small talk and I get really uncomfortable when the expectation is to put on a smile and fake it. I'm the kind of person who has invited numerous women out for coffee after just meeting them simply because I wanted to know them... know their story... know their pain and know the Jesus in them. I'm the one who got voted most likely to save the world in high school and have spent countless nights awake trying to figure out how I can enter into the hearts of those around me. And as much as I called out to Him in the middle of the night... as much as I worshipped Him not knowing whether she would live or die... as much as my heart poured out onto these pages into words that were black and white... my world just felt grey. Areas of my heart lay in the shadows... in the places I had no words for...

and I'm so incredibly honored that so many of you walked alongside us in this... were moved to your knees by the story of my daughter. I am. But for the sake of honesty... transparency... truth... I need to tell you what else was going on all those months...

I was screaming at Him.
I was pounding my fists on the steering wheel of my car and begging to know why....
There were days I cried so hard I could barely breathe.
And my heart became divided between two things... wanting His heart no matter what the cost... and wanting to know why for so many... the story didn't end with happily ever after.

It ended at a grave... in a divorce... a broken heart... a shattered dream. Why some... when they are old and gray... die bitter and angry. Why some... after searching their whole lives... still feel as if they've come up empty.

Why my parents had to live every parents nightmare and stand at the grave of a son.
Why my dear friend had to live every wife's nightmare and hear her husband say "I don't love you anymore and it's... over."
Why the little boy who changed my life was sent back to abusive parents...
Why the old woman I met in Kenya rotted away in a hut in the middle of nowhere...flies waiting to devour.

We got the miracle. We saw the healing... We watched in awe when she screamed and we could all finally breathe. We held the full term baby who they told us may not even make it to "viable". We watched as our greatest fears were laid to rest when they put her in our arms.

So why am I still beating the steering wheel... fists clenched?

Why, for so so many... did the story not end the way ours did?

And I'm going to give you the most biblical... profound answer that I have.

I don't know...

I wish I did... I wish I had a better answer for those of you who have emailed me seeking. For those of you who have let me into your life... your pain... your story... but all I have is I don't know.

I don't know why you were asked to stand at the grave... or asked to face your worst nightmare. I don't know why He didn't heal her or why He let him leave. Why, sometimes, does it seem like the tears of the saints far outweigh the miracles?

And in the months we didn't' know... I just couldn't go there. I didn't want to know anymore. and I am so sad to say that this bitterness grew in my heart and I put up this wall that divided my heart and I was open about the times we praised Him... open about the fact that I told Him I'd love Him either way... open about how I ached for Him and knew Him in a way I hadn't yet known. But the other side of the wall... The side where I slammed my bible shut and threw it across the room. The side where there were days when I didn't feel Him... The days I felt abandoned and alone and afraid and aching... The part where I snapped at the smallest thing and began my obsession with clorox wipes... (and if you know me at all you know where this is going)

The part where I stopped inviting you out for coffee.
Stopped letting anyone see me cry.
The side of my heart that ached for all of the mommies whose stories didn't end like mine.

And please don't read me wrong here... I have rejoiced every day that Jayda has breathed. And my heart is so full... but until very recently... last night in fact... the lights were still out.

Until, in one breath... He shattered the darkness. And the scales over my eyes came off and I was able to see so many situations in new light. Someone who felt like an enemy became human... A shattered dream became a greater capacity to love. Fumbling for words became a way to tell the story... And for the first time in a very very long time...

I felt alive again.

Alive like I felt before the devastation of the slums in Africa... Alive like I felt before I rocked the little boy with the broken arm... Alive like I felt before they told me there was a good chance I was going to loose my daughter. Alive like I felt before I saw people's lives fall apart.

And I still don't have the answers to the questions that plague so many of us... I'm just no longer afraid to tell you I ask them too. And I want you to know that if you ask them... the hard questions... If you beat your fists against the steering wheel screaming "why?"

It doesn't mean you love Him any less. And it doesn't make you bad and it doesn't make you weak and it doesn't make you a failure and it doesn't mean your faith is too small...

It means your still alive.

It's when we stop asking... stop longing... stop crying out and just give up... that's when we should be scared. When we get comfortable sitting in the dark and decide to remain there because it's started to feel safe... that's when we should be terrified.

And I guess if you hear anything tonight... hear this. In those months I may have screamed at Him but underneath that still lay my desire to have His heart. There is much I don't know... there is much my heart breaks for... but there is no doubt in my mind that He is good. I don't know of another who would let me scream and pound my fists and then proceed to weep with me. I don't know of another who would walk me so gently through the dark parts of this life. And I don't know any other who can shatter the darkness like He can... who can break down the walls and allow worship and questioning to meet like He can. I don't know of another who would do this sacred dance of sorrow and joy so intimately with me.

And please don't be fooled... My faith is not that strong... on my best days it's a mustard seed. And if not for grace I'd be a mess... and on some days I am anyway. He's the one who claimed the mess of a woman with a mustard seed of faith could make mountains move. And I still don't get why the God I shake my fists at would be crazy in love with someone like me. And I don't know...

I don't know...

And when I was finally able to go back to the grave of my brother 12 years later He was the one who stood with me there... And when I lay awake at night feeling my daughter move He was the one who wept with me there and I don't know a lot of things... but I know one...

I'd rather do this with Him than without Him.

And that's enough to shatter the darkness.

New Mercy

Dawn Breaks and I'm holding her warmth against my chest. We've done our mornings like this for awhile now and its a routine of sorts...

I nurse I diet coke (I know... I know...) while we watch the news... catch up on the blogs... and give Him thanks for mercy that is new every morning. And I need the newness this morning... My heart aches for the newness.

I need the newness because I'm grappling with the part where we love our enemies and bless those who harm us. And we've wrestled Him and I... and there's a part of my living room floor that's worn from the pacing and the praying and the asking and the pleading... And I'm wrestling with the part where forgiveness is not a magic wand that takes the hurt away... I'm having a really hard time with the part where I look the pain in the eye and say "God is bigger than this."

And in my hurt, human flesh I want the person to pay. I want them to know only half of the pain we've known. I want vengeance and I want to get even and I want them to know the sting of the words and the hurt of the glances. I want their heart to hurt like mine hurts... shredded from the years of the words... so many hurtful words... And the tongue really is a flaming arrow and it really can bring life or death... and maybe if they only knew the destruction it's caused they'd choose life. But I know that vengeance isn't mine to have... and I don't get to be the one to throw stones because what would that make me?

And the whore who washed His feet with her tears knew something I need to be reminded of... that those who have been forgiven much have a capacity to love much. And I pray for that capacity and the enlarging of my heart. And I want that for them... to know much forgiveness and maybe... maybe someday they will know much love. Because as big as this is... as impossible as it feels... I've known and I've watched as He does the impossible...

He did it in me.

And this is the hard part of the gospel... the part we love to talk about... the part that sounds pretty on the paper but is ugly when you face it. The part where we love the enemy and bless the one who has brought us much harm. The part where we choose to speak no evil... and oh Jesus how I've failed at that... The part that comes after the choice to forgive is the hardest part.

The choosing it over and over each morning... The offering of mercy over and over... and He's so good at that and I'm wrestling with the giver of mercy because it would be so much easier to throw the stone... write the angry letter... spew the hurtful words. And I want to go over every time and re live every situation and lick my wounds and we wrestle as I pace the floor and I'm begging for it to just stop... and I know the promises are true... how He will bring us out... carry us... sustain us... even in this. I know they are true... the promises... but right now they don't feel true and I'm weary and can't I just throw a stone?

And I want in my heart of hearts to be like Him... And His mercy is new every morning which means mine must be... And I feel like I'm working towards a graduate degree in forgiveness only I'm in the second semester and the road ahead feels long.

And the sun is up and she is sleeping and the wrestling is coming to an end... "God don't let me become bitter... I don't want to be bitter... I don't want a heart that's bitter."

And I know what that means... bitterness is fought only with the offering of mercy. And forgiveness doesn't mean enabling it simply means we release the other person from having to make things right. It means I don't have to wait for the change or the apology to offer the mercy. And it isn't about glossing over something. It's about releasing something...someone.

Because in the end... there is nothing I could release someone from that's bigger than what I've already been released from. And oh Jesus that's hard to swallow.

And bitterness chokes the grace of God and invades the lives of others and I can't... I won't let my daughter know a mother that's bitter. And I want her to know how to love and forgive well and I know it isn't up to me but it starts with me. And if I can't learn to offer the grace than I will miss what I want most in my life.

To preach the gospel without words.

And it's a beautiful idea but a really difficult thing to live. And the wrestling begins to end...

Because the mercy is new and I hold her and I thank Him for the newness and I need the newness because without it my heart would be as cold as stone.

A heart of stone... the throwing of a stone... I realize now how the two go together.

And if I don't want the first to be true than I cannot give in to the second.

and you could have thrown the stone but you didn't... and you could have left us here to face what we deserve but you didn't... and oh Jesus I'm grateful.

And as the newness comes... with it comes the hope that I'll speak life instead of death... offer mercy instead of a stone... love like I know what I've been forgiven of.

The Dance

My daughter has one of the most peaceful gentle spirits of any baby I've ever known... unless I put her down... in which case she screams like she is being tortured.

She likes to be held. She feels safe in my arms... her favorite place to lay her head is near my heart and she nuzzles herself in... clutches my clothing to get just a little closer... and she smiles... She doesn't like to be alone. She doesn't do well alone. She feels peace in the holding. And although I've gotten every piece of parenting advice known to man in the last month...

"Let her cry. Crib train her. Soothe her. Don't soothe her. Let her sleep with you. Don't let her sleep with you. She needs to learn to calm herself. Calm her. Do this... Oh make sure you don't do that..."

With all due respect to Ezzo and Sears and Spock and the Author of "The Happiest Baby on the Block" I've decided I'm throwing out the parenting books. :)

We're just going to dance it out.

And so night falls and we dance while the sun goes down and the world gets quiet... I dance my daughter to sleep while we sing songs to the Maker of heaven and earth and I tell her about the Jesus who saved her mommy in every way a person can be saved. And I tell her about the God who carried her... kept her heart beating... the One who has counted every hair on her head and has numbered her days and has written her story.

I dance my daughter to sleep while the tears of gratitude fall and the love in my heart overflows and spills out into words of thanks... I have so little to offer Him... The One who has kept my daughter... kept me... turned our fear into peace... And there is nothing better than this...

To dance her to sleep while I tell her of the love that saves a life... and sing her songs about the One who heard the cries of my heart and gave me her. And there is no love like a mother loves her child and I'm sure of this as I kiss her face and hold her hands and smell her hair and love her more than I ever knew I could.

And she has made me braver than I ever knew I could be... and because of her I've learned that every day is precious and life is fragile and I'd be wise to never let the things of this world cloud my heart to what is really meaningful... And this is all that is sacred and true and real in life and I don't ever want to forget all I've learned.

And I feel Him move my heart towards the things of heaven... and all the things that felt impossible feel possible. And I realize that vulnerability is a beautiful thing and sometimes all people really need to see Jesus is to hear your honest heart. Sometimes people don't need a sermon... they just need your hand. They don't need theology... they need to hear how you walked through the valley and He held you the whole time. And because of my daughter I want to forgive the person who will never ask my forgiveness and I want to write the letter to the friend I hurt... and I want to listen well... and love far beyond the point when it hurts... and I want to preach the gospel without any words and I want to cross the distance from east to west to make amends and offer mercy. And I want to live out the story of the women who washed His feet with her tears and loved so much only because she knew of how much she had been forgiven. And I want an undivided heart that loves Him with everything...

Because I don't want to get to heaven and hear Him say... "I really wish you would have..."

I only want to hear "well done". And life is fleeting and he's given us a story and I want to shout ours from the rooftops to anyone who will listen.

He still moves the mountains. And I dance a miracle to sleep each and every night and all I have and all I am is because He is. And any good in my heart comes from Him and the ashes He's made into beauty. And I think of the day I drove that road and told Him I'd love Him even if I didn't get to keep her... and I think of the day I married her daddy and the day we found out we'd made her and the road that led us here...

And all I have is gratitude... for all of it. Every single step. Every song in the night. Every tear we cried and every time our hearts ached because it's made me take nothing for granted. And it's given me hope because even when I was faithless He was faithful... even when I left He stood.

And today her daddy held me in the kitchen and I held her and I realized we can't possibly stop here because we have so much love to offer and when we got married we knew we wanted to be a mommy and a daddy to babies who didn't have parents... and we knew we wanted to give peace to children who'd only known turmoil and we wanted to show them they are well loved by a God who knows the stories they cannot tell.

And so we're starting the paperwork to be foster parents because life is short and ours is crazy and it's full but when you are part of God's family there is always another seat at the table and always enough to go around.... and we've been blessed beyond measure with a beautiful marriage and a big house and the knowledge that we are nothing without Him but if we let Him he'll allow us to be His hands and feet here.

And for us that means rocking babies and watching Sesame Street and sweeping cheerios off the floor. And we're ready to step into the dream God has laid in our hearts to show a child what it is to be loved by a family and in that to show them the love of Jesus.

And we're young and we've got a lot to figure out about raising babies but I know how to dance them to sleep and sing them songs about their Maker and tell them about the God who redeems all things. And in the end isn't that all that really counts... that each and every night I lay them in the arms of Jesus?

So that's the next step in the journey... and I'm terrified.

But everything meaningful should be scary because it forces you to trust.

And perfect love casts out all fear and at the end of the day you find yourself standing in a place you never knew you could.

And I realize my daughter is living up to meaning of her name... "wise"

She knows it's better to be held than to do it on your own... She knows peace is lying in arms that are safe. She knows that if she just lays her head on my heart she'll be safe and I'll keep her there as long as I can.

And I pray she never stops. I pray she never tries to walk out life alone and that she lays herself in the arms of Jesus each and every night. That her heart never stops reaching for His heart and that when she finds it she will keep herself there for the rest of her life. That she will never forget that peace lies only in His arms and that we never walk alone. I pray she grasps His hand... yields her heart to His... and dances with Him all the days of her life.

And as for me... I'll dance with as many babies as God allows.

Thank you for walking with us... for being part of our story... May you rest in the arms of God tonight knowing that's where peace is.

Much Love,

Kayla

mountains and miracles

We walked in the front doors a mix of joy and exhaustion... relief and apprehension. As we went in to registration I glanced over at the emergency room desk. I put my hand over her and breathed...

21 weeks had passed since the night we stood in that emergency room and feared the worst.

21 more weeks I had carried her... loved her... prayed for her... dreamed dreams for her. In those weeks we had named her, prepared a place for her, prepared our hearts for her, fought for her.

And here we were... in just a couple of hours she'd be here. In the surgical prep room we made small talk, we waited, but we were quiet. No one really said it out loud... but we were all scared. We'd walked this road for a long time teeth gritted and fists clenched... and you could tell. We wore it all over our faces. The many sleepless nights... the fear... the hope... the laying her in His hands over and over again.

After they'd laid me on the table and began... I remember asking for more oxygen. The nurse told me my levels were fine... but it felt so hard to breathe. I just wanted to hear her cry. A few minutes in Dr. Goerish said she saw a foot and seconds later I heard her scream. I have never heard anything more beautiful... never.

She's breathing... oh thank you Jesus she's breathing...

"Is she okay?"

"She's just fine."

For a few seconds Micaiah brought her over and I touched her little face... her fingers... felt her warmth... watched her little chest go up and down in sweet steady rhythm. When they took her upstairs my entire body relaxed. The next two hours a a blur. I had a hard time coming off of the meds but I remember Micaiah and my mom coming back and forth and I would keep asking and they would keep telling me.

"She's fine."

Later that day... when I held her for the first time... and my whole world stopped. Nothing prepares you to hold that kind of weight in your arms. I stared at her in disbelief. No tubes. No oxygen. No interventions whatsoever. She was perfect... beautiful and absolutely perfect and not one thing was wrong with her.

It wasn't until a couple of nights later that it truly hit me.

I was alone with her... lying in the quiet of the hospital room just taking her in when I finally said it out loud.

"She's okay..."

She's okay... oh Jesus... she's okay... she's really okay.

Then the tears came... hard and long... tears that wouldn't stop. I think I said it to myself about a thousand times that night... and the tears just kept coming.

They didn't stop that night... or the next day... or the day we came home. In fact... for the first several days we were home I would burst into tears at any given moment if I simply looked at her.

I'd wake up in the middle of the night just to make sure she was breathing. I'd worry over every little sound... every small thing she did. I probably would have taken her to the emergency room 55 times that first week if my husband hadn't gently talked some sense into me.

But that's the thing... when you've feared the worst... for so long... it's hard to just let go and accept that everything is okay... Which sounds awful I know... I know.

I'm supposed to trust Him. I do trust Him. But I've seen the other side of it... the scary side of it. The side where things are not okay. I watched my parents loose a baby and it's awful... awful. So it's hard to just let go.

But one night... while rocking her to sleep... I realized something. No matter how many times a night I wake up to make sure she is breathing. No matter how careful I am with her, how much I protect her, how deeply I love her... there is so much I cannot control. And so I cried one more time... told Him how deeply I loved my daughter and laid her once again in the arms that have carried her this far.

Because the thing is... at the end of the day... there is very little I can do for her besides love her well and point her to Him.... besides live with intention and make the most of every moment I have with her. The best most beautiful gift I will ever give her is a mommy whose heart is at peace with the fact that He really does have the whole world in his hands... even the litty bitty baby...

Even now... in the middle of the night when she cries... I smile.

She's okay.

She is a living breathing miracle. And I know in my heart that the rest of her story will be just as beautiful as what He's already written for her.

He still does miracles... Mountains still move. My hope is knowing her story will help you believe that. As for me... I'm holding the sweet beautiful proof.

Much Love,
Kayla

We're still here...

Hey everyone!

Sorry for the large gap between updates... can you guess why?

We've been falling head over heals in love with our sweet girl and it's hard to get motivated to write a post when all I want to do is cuddle my baby :)

I'm sure eventually I'll share my heart on the day she was born and moments following. But for now, for today... and possibly for quite awhile... I am just going to enjoy every minute of her.

She is continuting to do incredibly well and has surprised everyone with her strength and her weight gain (She is already up to 4IBS 15oz.). She has such a sweet spirit which makes it easy to be crazy about her.

Now... back to cuddling my daughter.

Much love,
Kayla

She's Here and She's Healthy!

I am SO sorry to have kept you all waiting! I'll keep this short as I need to get a nap in before Jayda's next feeding...

Our sweet girl came into the world at 9:20am on Tuesday June 1st weighing in at 4 Ibs. 13.5 ounces and 19 inches long! She is perfect and totally healthy! She was with me within hours of my surgery and is doing really well!

We are still in the hospital because she is having a hard time with feedings and they just want to keep a close eye on her ane make sure she is doing well with weight and has an eating schedule before they send her home.

Beyond that... we are madly in love with her and savoring every second...

I'll post more soon :)

Much Love,

Kayla