Take Me Away

I have been blessed to spend all my days in a biblically-based, church-attending, ministry-focused, Christ-honoring home.  The older I get, the more grateful I become for this.

Since I have spent many hours in the House of God, under the preaching of God's Word, there have been different passages read that I didn't quite understand-- even misunderstanding them as I read them during my own Bible reading times.  One such passage is John 15.  As a quick recap and reminder, this is the passage of Scripture that draws much focus to the importance of abiding in Christ.  More specifically, seeing ourselves as a branch that desperately needs to abide in Christ the Vine.  The passage in its entirety is quite encouraging and comforting.  I mean, who doesn't love verse nine?

"As the Father loved Me, I also have loved you; abide in My love."

But before we get to that friendly verse, we have verse two that we have to get around.

"Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit, He takes away."

Now, this is one of those verses that always confused me.  I heard many (well meaning) lessons and sermons about how if someone wasn't bearing fruit, the Lord would just cut them off and take them away.  Quite frankly, it always made me a little uncomfortable and even discouraged.  If ever my Bible reading lead me to this passage, I would just read through that verse quickly, not giving it much thought.  I mean, who wants to think about Jesus cutting you away from the God-Vine?!  Not this girl, that's for sure!

However, I have the most wonderful news for you:  this verse is perhaps the most precious and tender verses in all of Scripture.

Wait..... whaaaaaat....?

We see that "takes away" and get all panicky.  That is the part that makes me nervous.  Yet a better, more accurate translation would be to say "every branch that does not bear fruit, He lifts up".

OK.  I'm starting to settle down a bit. But what does that mean?

We get a better picture when we read on into verse three:

 "You are already clean because of the word which I have spoken to you."  

Obviously, there are believers who are abiding and thriving right up close to the vine.  Their hearts are clean and don't really need any extra gardening from the Master Vinedresser.  These branches are already bearing their fruit because the Word of God is actively in their hearts and minds.  They are clean!

So then comes this picture that Christ is trying to paint for us in John 15:2...  There is a branch that is growing.  Kind of.  I mean, if you even want to call it "growing".  Sometimes there are branches that, for whatever reason-- be it lack of Sonshine, not enough Water [from the Word], or even simply exhaustion-- these wilted branches have floundered down low near the ground, away from the Heart of the Vine.  These poor branches are getting trampled by passerbyers, stifled from the warmth and nourishment from the Son by the well-meaning branches already thriving overhead.  And they don't stand much of a chance.

Oh, but then.  But then.

The Loving Vinedresser sees these worn, tired branches pressed down deep into the dirt.  And what does He do?  He oh-so-graciously, oh-so-tenderly reaches down-- into the filth and grime and shame-- and He washes off each leaf, lovingly binding it up close to the Heart of the Vine.  He binds this seemingly forgotten branch up where it is able to be sheltered and nourished and strengthened,  where this branch can now safely and confidently begin to bear fruit once again.  Fruit fit for the Master's table.

*sigh*

Isn't that just the breath of fresh air that every heart has needed at some point in our journey?  Who among us hasn't felt like that forgotten, withered, fruitless branch?  And just. like. that.  The Vinedresser comes alongside and washes away our dirt and bugs, He scrubs away the grime of life-- and sometimes that is uncomfortable.  But it is always best.   And He is determined to keep us close to the Vine.  Close so that we can bear fruit and thrive!  Close so that we can abide.

And now that I know the tenderness of this act of "taking away"-- taking away from the dirt, taking away from the trampling, taking away from the loneliness of being far from the Vine-- I now look forward to "stumbling" upon John 15, whether in my own quiet time with the Lord or during a Bible lesson in the Lord's House.  I love being reminded of the care that my Vinedresser has.  For me.

How this verse now whispers in my heart and brings to my mind the desperate plea of the hymn writer of old:

Abide with me; fast falls the eventide;

The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide;

When other helpers fail and comforts flee,

Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me.

Jesus, take me away.

Winter Storage

Filling my pantry and freezer with tasty treats for future days gives me an abnormally high sense of satisfaction and enjoyment.  Absolutely LOVE seeing rows and rows of those red tomatoes, golden peaches, and spicy salsas.  There's something oddly thrilling about opening up that freezer door and seeing shelf after shelf stocked full of summer goodness and baked treasures.

So that's what I spent my last weekend of non-teaching freedom doing:  putting a few more treats in the freezer.  I have a few plans for a few more before the teaching plunge begins, but I am quite happy with what I put up this past season-- especially when I comfort myself with the reminder of being on near-constant bed rest for almost 7 weeks of this fabulous summer break.

If you follow me much, you are already aware of my fan-tabulous jams and salsas that I loved making (and tasting!).  If you missed it, feel free to catch up ---> here and here or even here.  But if you just want that sweet [eh, ehhhh... see what I did there?!] reminder, here's a few photos:

Here we have the always popular peach and plum jams {can we say: pb&j for days?!}

   

Also a crowd favorite are the fruity salsas and canned sunshine peaches!

   

My newest love... tomato jam, with stewed tomatoes singing back up.

A peak at that yummy salsa with a tease of  cinnamon stick in the spiced peaches...

   

Never before seen footage:  mixed berry oatmeal bars.  I cut these yummies into little bars, wrapped each one up, and stuck the whole lot of them into a freezer bag.  Ready for school lunches!

What to do with that "cannot resist a deal from the farmer's market" box of tomatoes?  Well, let's roast 'em and freeze 'em!  This was my inspiration, and I loved it!

         

If you are ever on a game show, and the host asks you:

"What is the #1 way to single-handedly sabotage the diet of Leah Gibson?"

Here is your simple reply:  carbs.  The answer is always carbs.

So, naturally.  I had to make some and freeze some.  I am of the strong opinion that I could put just about anything in a fresh piece of naan or wrap it up in one of my soft, dreamy tortillas, dunk it in a zippy dip, and call it a win! [*No data has been collected for this claim.  Views and opinions are based solely on the personal experiences and preferences of this blog writer.]

 

Who knew you could freeze whole tomatoes?!  Not this girl, that's for sure.  But I gave it a whirl this year!  I cored these puppies, then popped them right in a freezer bag.  [Also, as a disclaimer:  I did use a straw to suck out ever last little bit of air that is humanly possible from each of those freezer bags.  I regret nothing.]

So, there you have it.  All these yummy treats help me look forward to those long days ahead.  There is no greater joy to my heart than having yummers for all the tummers of my sweet Gibson Gang!

But I don't want to

I have three sweet precious gifts from the most Gracious God.  These babies fill my heart and day with more joy than I could ever have imagined was possible.  They have an innocent hope and zest for life that often causes me to just catch my breath with the deepest of love.

   

However.

As every parent out there is able to give a witness, in addition to the countless hours of blessings and love and joy, there are also times when these precious Sweet Ones can work a nerve.

My youngest Sweet One is currently two years old.  [And I don't even have to write anything else for every person who has ever had the briefest interaction with a two-year-old to understand exactly what "currently two years old" means.]  And added to the standard "currently a two year old" package, someone decided to upgrade to "also a miracle baby" with a side of "yep, he's the youngest".  So.  We are getting the opportunity for a LOT of learning moments in la casa de Gibson these days.

One of the things that both annoys and entertains me simultaniously is the moments when I have asked this Sweet Sweet to hand me something-- perhaps he has something that he shouldn't, or it is time to put away a toy or a cup or a blow torch.  [I'm kidding.  We don't let our kiddos play with the blow torches until they're at least seven.  Kidding.]  And this is usually how the exchange goes:

Mama:  Hand the cup to mama.
Sweet Sweet:  [throws it to the floor, directly beside him/me]
Mama:  Samuel, pick it up and hand it to mama.
Sweet Sweet:  [weeping]
Mama:  Samuel, pick up the cup and hand it to mama.

More weeping, pointing to said cup, and unintelligible moaning that I can only assume is an attempt to explain why he couldn't possibly pick up the cup.

Mama:  [taking the Sweet Sweet by his hand, gently pulling the hand towards the cup]  Pick. Up. This. Cup. Please.

Suddenly, my Sweet Sweet has lost all use of his fingers.  Suddenly, his hand no longer possesses the fine motor skills needed to grasp a small object.  I literally have his hand on the cup.  And he literally will not grasp the cup.

More weeping.  More moaning.

Mama:  Buddy.  It is right there.  Pick up the cup.

What is the miraculous healing for loss of motor skills?  For my precious Sweet Sweet, his healing comes with an ever slight *smack* to the cutest, chubbiest little thighs you've ever seen.  Granted, there is still weeping, possibly even an additional moan or two, but he picks up the cup and {grudgingly} hands it to me.

I share these moments from my Sweet Ones because I also want to share how it relates to my own heart and life.  As I have been spending my time with the Lord in recent days, my heart has felt quite a bit like Samuel-- there has been weeping, pointing, and unintelligible moaning.  I don't want to pick up my "cup".  It doesn't matter that it is right there.  I don't wanna.  It's not that I have suddenly lost the ability to do what needs to be done.  No, the bottom line is that I have a sinful, willful heart.  And I simply don't want to do it.  I would rather grunt and groan and weep than take that big step into obedience.

But Jesus is working on that with me, every so graciously as He is prone to do.  In fact, I have had several different "themes" that I have used to help keep me on the right track in recent years.  One year, it was #theyearofthanks.  Most recently, it was #unshakable.  As I've been considering what to select for this new school year, if I was honest, it would be #theyearofpitchingafit.  (I told you I didn't want to pick up my cup!)

But then the Lord gives my not-so-cute-but-unfortunatly-just-as-chubby thighs heart an ever slight *smack*.  My most recent smack came through the words of a gorgeous, conviction-packed worship hymn.  You might be familiar with it:  "O Great God".  If you haven't heard it, or it's been a while, or even if you just need a loving *smack* to your cute little thighs heart, take a moment to listen...

I don't think it is by any accident that the frame that is frozen there as the visual for the video are the very words that were the much-needed and loving *smack* from my Heavenly Father.


Keep my heart and guard my soul...

You are worthy to be praised with my every thought and deed.

I need to give my heart and will and soul to the One Who is able to guard me from the evils that I will and do face each day.  I need to be reminded that no matter what is happening in my life at any given moment, as a Child of the King, my one task is to glorify the Lord-- and to have Him be glorified through me.

So instead of #theyearofpitchingafit, the Lord has gently encouraged my heart to instead focus on #lookingforthanks.  This is something that I will need to learn, day after day.  And I learn by practicing it-- even if I don't want to do it.  I look for ways to be thankful.

Isaiah 1:17 says, "Learn to do good..."

Amos 5:14 further exhorts, "Seek good and not evil, that you may live;  So the Lord God of hosts will be with you..."

So take a deep breath.  
Put on your big girl pants.  
Remember that training is never easy.  

And for the love of all that is holy:

Pick.  Up.  The.  Cup.

Not "the cup".  No, this is mama's-- he has no problem picking up THAT one! ;)

Advice for the new mom, old mom, tired mom, single mom, I'm-not-a-mom, and everyone else out there

Live in your moment.

Because this is the moment that God has given

to you.  

Don't look back, don't look outside. 
Don't compare, don't resent.

Look to Him.  

Believe that He has given you just what you need 

 and kept from you that which is not best. 

So, remember:

Live.

In.

YOUR.

moment.

 

Kinda like this. 

 

WARNING!

If you are one of those kinds of people who look at the Bible as a sort of "buffet", where you can pick and choose what you like, and leave what doesn't really appeal to you... well, either prepare to be offended or just don't read any further.

I, for one, am of the belief that the Bible is more like the "clean plate club"-- you know, you eat everything on your plate, whether you like it or not!

Image from here

Now, hold on tight, 'cause here we go...

Several weeks ago, I came across a rather intriguing article.  This article basically put into words what I have firmly believed for a very long time:  the basic summation of the article is that homosexuality is not something you are "just born with" but is instead, a sin-- just like any and all other sins-- something that is a result of the original sin as recorded in Scripture.  And that-- being a sin nature-- really IS something we are all "just born with".

Now, before you write me off in thinking, "Oh, this is just another one of those 'homosexuality is a sin' preaching posts!" please give me just a few more moments of your time.  You will see, in fact, that that is not at all the burden that has been upon my heart.  Rather, I will instead open to you a secret part of my heart.

[But just so we're clear, the Bible does plainly state that homosexuality is a sin.  And, remember, I'm a "clean plate" gal, sooo... yah.  I believe it's a sin, too.]

If you happen to have been following my blog at all lately, you already know that I have embarked on a 100 Day Journey {if you want to catch up, just start here!}.  As I am moving through these days, the Lord has really dug down deeply into the innermost, secret parts of my very soul.  He is cleaning out things that I truly don't need and putting back in that place, things that make me so much more like and for Jesus.  One of the ways that He has been doing this work is through both my quiet time and Sunday School teaching times.  During these times, there have been several occasions for me to revisit that original sin that I mentioned a little bit ago.

In case you need a refresher, here's a recap:

God placed Adam and Eve, the original man and woman, in a perfectly created garden of Eden.  There was no sin, no pain, no problems.  They only had one rule:  do not eat of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.  One. Rule.  However, the Evil One came to Eve and presented her with a proposition.  He carefully asked her about God's "restriction" given.  Satan questioned the very Nature of God, the goodness of God.   He led Eve to believe that God was somehow keeping her from something that she deserved. 

Has God indeed said, 

"You shall not eat of every tree of the garden"?

And, sadly, Eve listened to the wrong voice.  She looked at that tree, saw that it was good to eat.  And (this always makes me *sigh* and so very sad down in my soul when I read) she took it.

And then.  THEN she gave it to her husband. [But that's a whole 'nother post for a whole 'nother time!]

Now, let me stop you right there.  If you are anything like me, it is super easy for us to point and shake our finger at Eve, tsk-tsking her.  I get all high and mighty, simply aghast that Eve dared to disobey, she dared to give in to that tree.

But then the Lord stopped me right in my tracks.  Stopped that tsking and finger pointing.

The Lord pressed on my heart the reality that each and everyone of us has a "tree" in our life.  *I* have a tree, one that is right there behind me, practically calling my name.  A tree that the Evil One uses to tempt us-- to lure us away from any relationship with a Savior, causing us to question the very goodness of a Holy God.  Just like Eve was tempted to take from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, there are a wide variety of temptations that pose as trees in each and every life.  The Evil One is crafty; he is cunning; he is a roaring lion.  And he is ready to devour each and everyone of us.  He is able to do this because he knows exactly what "tree" tempts which person.  I firmly believe that this "tree" is often a very specific weakness in our sin nature, something that we are prone to give in to unless we day in and day out determine to "let not sin reign therefore in your mortal body, that you should obey it in its lusts." (Romans 6:12)

Wanna know what MY "tree" is?  {Here comes my heart}

 

Food.

Yes, you read that right.  Food and the proper balance of the role food plays in my heart and life.  Food as my comfort, the challenge to my self control.

Food is my tree.

The tree that I have to battle with and wrestle against day in and day out.  Probably for the rest of my life.  And while you may not understand it (um, it's not your tree, so how could you?), let me tell you that since I now see my tree AS my tree, I understand "other sins" so much better.  I pray so much harder for my fellow brothers and sisters, I pray differently for my brothers and sisters.

There has been more than one moment in these past several weeks and months that I found myself at a crossroads.  That tree was tempting me in a most persistent manner.  And I actually said out loud:

"Ugh.  You know what, I don't want to do this anymore.  I am tired.  I like [insert some particularly scrumptious and unhealthy "treat"].  I just don't know if I can fight it any longer.  It would be so much easier to just. give. in."

And then it hit me.  [Cue your mind back to that article I was talking about in the beginning]

Imagine that person you know who has struggled with a tendency towards homosexuality their entire life.  And even the one who has now given in-- claiming "That's who I really am" or even "I've never been so happy until now.  I've really 'found myself'."  Maybe people have even said, "Oh, we just knew he was gay from the time he was in elementary school!"  But, I say NO!  No, he was not born to be a homosexual.  That is just his "tree".  He was born no differently than any other person of the human race: he was born a sinner.  But this just happens to be the fight that he must battle day in and day out.  Probably for the rest of his life.  And maybe he just got too tired of fighting.

It's so much easier to just give in.

[That's why it's called "wrestling".]

Yet, that is the battle we all are called to fight.   But we should fight together.  Why else do we read in James chapter five...

"Confess your sins one to another
[don't be ashamed or afraid to share with a brother/sister in Christ what your tree is]

And pray for one another
[wrestle for them and with them before the throne of God in heaven]

That you may be healed.

The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much."

So what's your tree?  We know that there are only three categories... lust of the eyes [pornography, envy, jealousy], lust of the flesh [gluttony, lust, greed], and the pride of life [arrogance, self-sufficiency, power, money].  And I know that if you are honest with yourself, you also know that it doesn't do any good for you to pretend that you DON'T have a tree.  Because you do.

It is my prayer that you will never again look at the variety of trees all around in the same way.  May you remember to pray for one another every single time you see a tree.  May you pray that the Lord will give the strength for that dear one to fight.  Fight, just one more day.  Just for today, might we all resist the evil one.

Resist.  And he will flee from you.

100 Days!

OK, so who has seen, read, heard, noticed, and/or ignored the trending "100 Days"? 

Well, if not, let me give you a very brief overview... You pick something-- anything-- and commit to do it for 100 days straight.  Many people will document this commitment through a photo or video journal.

Whelp, I have jumped on board.  I am taking the 100 Day Challenge.  I have a dear friend from college who is my personal accountability partner.  We are going to (hopefully!) keep each other straight-- at least for 100 days!

And here is what I am committing to do:

1.  Spend quality time with my Lord.
2.  Spend 30 minutes (or more???) exercising.
3.  No yelling at anyone in my family (I was going to just say "my children", but then the Lord convicted me of the importance of making sure to model respect and compassion to my hubby as well!)

So here I go!  I hope to post my daily commitment.  If anyone has any suggestions or words of encouragement or would even like to join, just let me know.  Misery loves company.

Just imagine if every Christian, everywhere, committed to spend quality time with the Lord for 100 days.  What a difference we could make!

Settle Down, Pinterest. Super Mom is here...

 

A dirty word whispered ominously in the hearts of overworked, underpaid, sleep-deprived mothers everywhere.  Granted, this crafty, creative, often thrifty, pool of information DOES have its valuable, lifesaving benefits.

However.  Oh, however. 

"Comparison is the thief of joy." ~ Theodore Roosevelt

And that's exactly what Pinterest does.  At least for me.  I focus on what others are doing, which causes me to focus on what I am NOT doing.

But I had a moment.  A moment where the Holy Spirit whispered louder than Pinterest.  Here's my story, Mornin' Glory...

My sweet Ellie Rose's birthday.  She wanted a Dora the Explorer cake.  Oh, but that's only after she changed her mind.  A hundred times.  And this was the "final" request.  The night before her school "party".  So I figured that Wal-Mart would save the day.  I figured SURELY there would be a Dora cake there.  I mean, come on.  So I got up early the morning of [figuring that there would "fresh" cakes ready for my choosing...], drove to Wal-Mart with high hopes.

But that was not to be.  I almost cried.  But the Holy Spirit prays for me with prayers that can not be uttered.  And He pointed me towards a beautiful rainbow cake.  And some Dora stickers.  And He gave me a plan!

Sit. Down. Pinterest.

I took these lovely little Dora sticker, stuck them to a toothpick, covered them with heavy-duty packing tape, and VOILA!  A Dora the Explorer cake.  Thank you very much.  And I just KNEW that my sweet girl love it.  I, the mama, saved the day.  Ta. Da.

 

But I have to tell you what happened next.

The Holy Spirit wasn't finished whispering.

For whatever reason, my sweet son decided that it would be fun to push all of those wonderful make-shift Dora decorations down into the icing.  Every. Single. One.

I literally wept.  I was exhausted.  I thought I had risen to the ranks of "super mom".  I thought I had beaten Pinterest.

But the Lord wanted to remind me that comparison is the thief of joy.  I didn't need to compare myself to anyone.  Except for my Savior.  My pride-- in myself-- had grown so quickly that I didn't even realize it was there.  But the Lord so graciously allowed for me to be taught by that precious one that I am blessed to call "son".

 

[And now that I am away from the trauma of it all, I have to confess that I completely "get" why he pushed those puppies down.  He just wanted to know what would happen, how far they would go.  (I myself have had to stifle such impulses)]

And I was able to show him grace.  Because the Lord shows ME grace.  And I have done so much more than just push down stickers-on-a-stick in the icing.

It still turned out pretty great, huh?  (Yes, I wrote that "happy birthday" all by myself!)

She's baaaaack...

Oh, how I have actually missed writing my "wealth" of information for all the world to see...  However, life has been SUUUUPER cray-cray these past few months. (If you've missed the major excitement, feel free to catch up here.  And I really need to add the other half of that adventure...)

However, I am determined.  DE.TER.MINED. to stick it out.

Not because I feel that I have so much to offer, 

but because I have so much to remind MYSELF.

So blessed.  So much.  

Even when I don't deserve it.

SAMUEL... "the one who God hears"

Let the adventure begin:

On Wednesday, April 24 (the day before I am scheduled to deliver!), the Gibson Gang met my parents and sisters for dinner at Red Lobster in Newport News (which is about halfway from our hometown in Gloucester and the delivery site of Norfolk).  Juuuuust as our food arrived, I discovered that I was having some light bleeding.  Sooo, dinner was boxed up and my kiddos went with my parents and sisters to their hotel in Norfolk, and Ashley and I drove to the hospital.

Ashley and I checked into the hospital, and they checked all of my vitals, the baby, etc.  There was no more bleeding, so I was able to "relax" and even get something to eat.  Just as I dozed off to sleep, a little after midnight, I woke up to the frightening feeling of lots of bleeding.  And juuuust to add a bit o' excitement to an already exciting scenario: the hospital was experiencing a power outage and was running solely on back-up generators.  There was a lot of hustle and bustle and preparation of that fabulous crew of nurses as they prepped to do what needed to be done.  I lost about 300 cc of blood, but the Lord stopped the bleeding and allowed me to rest (somewhat) the rest of the morning. My surgeon, Dr. Dattel, came in around 8:00 am to see me and to discuss what was going to happen.  My original surgery time of 1:00 pm was going to be bumped up to 11:00 am.

The reality of what could possibly be the end was really moving in closely.  I had spent a lot of time with the Lord, giving my worries and concerns for my sweet babies and hubby into the hands of a knowing God.  I had a peace that if these were to be my last moments with my loves, it would be enough.  I held my hubby's hand until they wheeled me out to the operating room.  The Lord had already graciously provided a precious nurse, Gabrielle, to hold my hand and pray for me the entire way.

Obviously, the next few hours are a bit foggy, but my hubby kept me pretty informed! ;)  Surgery began at 11:00 am, and Samuel Asher Gibson entered the world at 11:17.  After that, Dr. Dattel began the removal of my placenta and uterus.  The placenta was pretty powerful and had overtaken most everywhere from my belly button on down.  She wasn't able to remove it all, and I lost about 4.5 liters of blood.

I was sent to the ICU, and I don't remember much except that those nurses were so wonderful.  They monitored me and kept me so comfortable.  I remember that when they had to remove the sheath from my leg (because of embolization) the nurse, John, had to literally hold pressure on my leg for 20 minutes so that I wouldn't bleed out.  I remember several of the nurses from the night before (you know, the power outage excitement) came to check on me-- most of them waiting long past their shift was over just to be able to make sure that I was really going to pull through.  I remember one nurse in particular went and took pictures of my Samuel, printed them off, and taped them to my bedside so that I could see him.  I remember getting three chemo shots to help kill off the remaining placenta and uterus.  I remember those nurses holding my hands and assuring me that I would indeed be able to nurse my baby in spite of all of this.  I remember that those ICU nurses saved my life.

Three different times, three different chaplains came in to see me.  I remember at the time thinking that it was a little strange.  But, now as I look back, I know it's because of how sick I was.  But, I knew.  I knew that so many people were praying.  And I had so much peace. 

The next 5 days were really rough.  The main thing I remember is the vomiting.  A lot.  At one point, I had six different IV's hooked up to me, trying to get everything all balanced out.  Even now, over 2 weeks past all this, I still have arms that look like a kindergartener just discovered the purple and black permanent markers, and went crazy with them! 

Samuel was born on Thursday.  And he was perfect.  He came out kicking and screaming (just as I had prayed so fervently!).  He couldn't come to me, but I was allowed to go to him.  On Monday, Ashe wheeled me down to the nursery so I could see my sweet boy.  The smells and lights about did me in.  I made it to the nursery, but I was already so ill, I couldn't even pick him up.  I remember worrying that he wouldn't remember me, but all I said was, "Oh, sweet boy..."  He turned that little head so fast to find me, that even now it makes me weep.  I had to go back to my room, but Tuesday morning was feeling much better.  I was even put into a "normal" room!  The lactation nurse brought my baby to me and I got to hold him for the very first time.  Oh, what a miracle.  He even latched right on and nursed like a pro!  God is... so good.

I had to continue to stay in the hospital until May 4 because of severe abdominal pain, more vomiting, and other complications.  However, I knew a miracle was truly done by an amazing God.  And as I sat in my room, FINALLY getting ready to go home.  I will never forget the reality of what the Lord had brought me through, just washing over me.  I had prepared my heart and life to the reality that I would not get to see my sweet babies again.  I was ready to be called home.  And in an instant, as looked into the face of my sweet Samuel, my tears flowed so freely as my heart rejoiced: the Lord was letting me go home!  He let me stay, and He let me be that mama again.

All throughout this pregnancy, a verse that has just whispered and rolled through my very being is Psalm 62:1, "When my heart is overwhelmed, lead me to the Rock that is higher than I..."  Indeed, my feet have been placed on higher ground!

Baby #3... the adventure of a lifetime!

First of all, I can't believe how easy it is to just have a big ole' lull in my blogging.  I love doing it-- mostly so I can remember all of the sweet things that happen in this crazy life that the Lord has blessed me to live.  However, in light of recent events, I most certainly do NOT want to forgot any of the blessings that have been heaped upon me by a gracious, loving, all-knowing Heavenly Father.

So here is the story of a sweet boy and the power of a praying people...

PART I-- the journey of faith...

I love being the mama.  I love being pregnant.  I love the thrill of watching my tummy grow, move, and, at times, make strange noises.   This baby is #3 for us, so I was feeling pretty confident.  However, around 20 weeks, it was discovered that I had a condition known as placenta previa.  It wasn't too big of a crisis, and we prayed diligently that the Lord would help to correct this "bump" in the road (no pun intended! ;) ).

Due to the high risk factor that comes with the previa, I was required to have an ultra-sound every other week (LOVED looking in on my little man!) as well as a twice-weekly monitoring session known as an NST (non-stress test).  Again, not too terrible-- more of an inconvenience as I dashed across town before or after school to get this monitoring in without having to use any of my precious sick leave.

When I was 30 weeks, during one of my "normal" ultrasounds, the doctor became very suspicious that the placenta had indeed begun to implant into my uterus and cervix.  After further reviews and scans, it was confirmed:  my previa had turned into a full-blown placenta accreta.  The diagnosis was that as long as I wasn't having any preterm labor or bleeding, I could continue working.  However, due to the size of my baby (we grow 'em big!) and some excess fluid around the baby, I would have to have a schedule C-section at 35 weeks to deliver the baby and also remove my uterus. 

(As a side note: my hubby and I had been praying about whether or not we should have any more children after this one.  We felt like the Lord was giving us the "your shop is CLOSED" pretty loud and clear! ;) )

Those 5 weeks flew on by as we scurried to get things ready.  Since not much about this pregnancy had been "normal" to date, it wasn't a surprise that the delivery would be "special", too!  I had to deliver at the high risk hospital in Norfolk, VA and was scheduled for delivery on April 25.  My parents and two sisters drove over from WV on April 24 so that they could help take care of our older two sweet ones while I was in the hospital-- and Ashe was caring for me. 

This is where the adventure really took off... but I'll save that for another post! :)

You should probably sit down for this...

You can tell that I am obviously on summer vacation-- because here I am with my second post.  In one day.  (I actually just "lol-ed" right now. :) )  But you will know WHY I am so pumped and couldn't wait in just a few moments.

As we all know, Father's Day is just around the corner.  Literally.  I have been super blessed with a super husband-- who is a super father.  Thus, I am totally pumped for Father's Day! :)  My husband is usually the "out of the park" gift giver.  I am a blessed woman.  But this year, *I* am (quite possibly) the winner.

"What is it that makes you think you're so special?"  You may ask.

I made him these cupcakes:

I call them: "The Caramel Mock-iato"  Eh...eh...!  Get it?  (My sweet hubby's favorite "treat beverage" of all times is the Caramel Macchiato from Starbucks.)  For all of you Pinterest addicts out there, I'm sure you've seen a wide range of recipes for this and other delectable delights.  However, none of them really ever grabbed my attention before-- as in the "Oh, I must stop everything I am doing and go make these cupcakes.  Right now." kind of grab the attention.  Until now.  These did.  And I did.  Though, naturally, I had to tweak them. ;)

Here's what happened...

I found this recipe from a new interesting blog that I shall revisit quite often, I am sure... Bakingdom.  I have never made my own caramel before today.  Nor had I yet ever used coffee IN my baking.  But, as luck would have it (really, it was fate, wasn't it????), we had some left over coffee from breakfast.  It's like the Lord wanted me to make these for my incredible husband. 

I started the caramel sauce...

Please don't judge my messy stovetop...

If you choose to make this wonderful concoction, please oh PLEASE be extra careful on the "slowly add the whipping cream to the boiling mixture" step.  No, I don't have a good story about a bad experience.

Praise the Lord.

Just be careful.

If all goes well, this is what should be the end result:

I left my "upside down, make the saute' pan level" red bowl in the background on purpose-- so you could see how deliciously golden that sauce is.

Then we move on to the cupcakes.  As I have mentioned before in previous posts, regardless of WHAT cupcake recipe you may be trying, I firmly believe that the very first step is one of the most important.  Whip that butter.  Leave it a-LONE.  Cream in that sugar, and let them get close.  Let them become as one.  That is my opinion.  But I'm pretty sure I'm right...

After the cupcakes have baked and cooled, cut out the little top (very carefully!) and then spoon in a scoop of that decadent caramel sauce that you have just whipped right up.  Put the top back on.  It's like your cupcake has a secret.  And it does.  Oh, my.  It.  DOES.

Can you guess which of these cupcakes I have already unofficially "staked my claim"?  If you said the one in the top right corner-- you'd be right! :)

Then comes the frosting.  Now, my new friend (whether she knows it or not) Darla suggests a coffee icing before the "whipped cream" frosting.  However, I just didn't feel like making it.  I was trying to think of some really exciting and/or creative reason for not including that.  But I just don't have anything but the truth.

I topped them with my top-secret, super delicious vanilla cream cheese frosting.  Actually, it's not that top secret.   I'm pretty sure I've posted it somewhere on my blog before now.  Anyway.  Just a couple weeks/months ago (remember, it's been a long year... my sense of time is a little off right now) I made a very wise purchase: the Best Ever Cupcake Icing Kit from Bake It Pretty.  Love that thing.  So I used it.  Piped out my delish frosting in an ever-so-impressive fashion on top of these gems.

You're starting to see it, aren't you???

Then comes the hardest part, in my opinion.  If the Lord ever allows for me to really have my bakery dream ("Gibson Goodies") hit full steam, I shall most definitely invest in one of those caramel-squeezing-out-bottle things.  That drizzling with a spoon could get really old, really fast.  But drizzle I did.  Fo-drizzle.  Lol.  If my husband reads this, he is rolling his eyes right now.

Remember that secret your cupcake was trying so hard to keep?

Do you see that caramel peaking out to say "hello"?

So there they are.  Don't you wish you lived closer to me?  I would make them for you if you did.  Honest.  I would.  Especially if you came to my monthly ladies' Bible study which happens the 3rd Saturday of every month at my sweet church, Grace Bible Church.  (Is that a good plug, or what?!)

Summertime...

As the music teacher, one of my responsibilities is to prepare the ever-popular "end of year program".  Generally speaking, it is only the kindergarten and 5th grade classes that require such preparation.  And this year was no exception.  One of the songs that my kindergarten did is entitled "School's Out!" by John Jacobson.  I've attached a clip if you'd like to see Mr. Double Dream Hands himself demonstrate the suggested choreography for this catchy little tune.

(On a side note, I didn't actually see this demo before today, and I would like to offer some props to myself for my motions that I taught the kiddos to help me them remember the words... I actually did some of the same ones he suggested.  No, not the cheesy ones.  The cool ones.)

Flash back to today.  I was fairly certain that I just might not make it to summer vacation.  In fact, this is the part where I confess that I do not know how "the rest of the world" makes it working year 'round.  Granted, I trust that "you" are not so naive as to assume that a teacher's "normal day" is quite often much longer and more stressful than many other professions' "normal day".  (This is NOT a "I work harder than you do" kind of post, so please relax! ;) )  All that to say (or rather "shout" since I'm about to go all caps lock on this post):  I AM FINISHED!  Whoo-hoo!  Say it with me now...  Whoo-hoo!  Whoo-hoow!  Whoo... Sorry.  Got a little excited there...

Anyway.  I just am so thankful that the Lord allowed me to make it to this day.  I'm not sure what exactly caused this school year to be/seem so much more stressful than years past, but it was certainly a big'un!

My sweet hubby returned with my sweet ones last night from a quick trip to North Carolina-- Ashe's oldest brother Jay selflessly serves as a supply sergeant for the National Guard and is being deployed as I type and you  now read.  I wasn't able to go with them on this quick trip due to closing ceremonies, end of school, etc activities-- you know, as shown in that awesome video clip.  So this week I got to veg a bit.  I'm not gonna lie:  I missed my babies (all THREE of them! ;) ).  Like. Crazy.  However, I will also confess:  it was kinda nice to go to bed before 9:00 and sleep all through the night without someone coming in to wake me up to go potty.  Or even spend a little time browsing around without feeling like I was "cheating" on family time.  In fact (prepare to be impressed!), I actually went to the gym 3 days.  In a row.  Wow.  Sometimes I even amaze myself.

But here I am.  First official day of summer vacation.  And I am loving it.

Whew... I made it...

I feel like this week has just been a hot mess.  Well, not exactly.  But close. And, you know.  It's funny-- as I sit here pondering what exactly it was that made it so "whew" here at the end... I'm stumped. 

Granted, there was the beginning of the SOL testing.  No, I'm not being crass for those of you who are NOT from Virginia... that is ACTUALLY what some brilliant person in the higher-ups-of-education thought would be the best choice for the abbreviation of our state mandated tests. "Standards of Learning".  Yah.  They didn't really think that one through.  (And we're the ones who are going to be evaluated each year to make sure that we are properly preparing the next generation?!  Just saying...) 

But I digress.  Yes, there was testing.  And, yes, I had minimal "free" time to recover from said testing.  But that wasn't necessarily "whew" material.  It must be something else...

As you may remember from my previous post, March is kind of a big deal for the music world.  It's our one time when we get to pretend to shine.  I have 3 different concerts coming up, and needless to say, there is a possible chance that I just might be getting a little more stressed as each day passes... getting closer to my big moment to "shine".  But more on that later...

Perhaps the highlight of my week was my time in court.  Yes, court.  As in, "All rise..." and "No talking, no gum chewing, no halter tops, no cell phones" court. 

No, I did not get arrested...

For those of you who know me, I have a very strict policy:  I am too pretty for prison.  Sadly, the registration on my car was expired. [You might recall the "Your registration is expired... as in... uh, 'AUGUST'..." incident from my previous blog-- which also includes a toe pic!]  Proudly, though, the officer did inform me that I have a flawless driving record (I'll possibly share more on that small miracle in times to come).  Which is why I headed to court-- to maintain that flawless driving record.  I was nervous that the judge would be mean.  Or that I would cry.  I don't really like to be in trouble.   But God was very kind to me.  And so was the judge. 

But the man at the metal detector was not.  Why, yes.  Did you know that you are not allowed to have any sort of electronic device in a courthouse?  I did not.  But that "gentleman" certainly did quickly inform me that I had to take my cell phone back to my car.  Why, yes.  I was parked a couple blocks away. Aaaaand  it WAS pouring down rain.  However, tempted as I was to allow a little stress tear to squeeze out, I just took a deep breath, prayed deep within my spirit, and briskly walked back to my car to deposit my fancy little phone. 

Fortunately, I wasn't quite like this.  And I was so thankful for my umbrella!

There were about 15 different people who went before me-- of which I was grateful (you know, so that I could prepare myself for what might happen-- and steel myself to NOT cry if needed.).  Fortunately for me, many of the people ahead of me were not necessarily in the running for citizen of the year month week day hour ever.  They set the stage for me beautifully. 

There were just a few basic questions that the judge asked each defendant as they (we *sigh*) stood before him:  a) What are the charges?  b) How do you plead?  c) Was the defendant cooperative? 

Wanna guess which of those 3 questions held the most weight?  If you picked "C", you are the winner.  There were a couple of guys who had to pay hefty fines b/c the officer testified that they were aggressive or argumentative.  As I walked up to the bench as my name was called, I smiled and said, "Good morning."  The judge read my charge (expired registration) and asked how I plead.  Naturally, I was guilty...  (Uh... AUGust...)  He then says, [to the officer] "It's obvious she was cooperative. [to me] I assume you've gotten this taken care of?"  I assured him I had, showed the dutifully updated registration to the officer, and waited for the verdict.  He smiles so nicely (notice:  no crying) and says, "All right.  I am going to dismiss the charges, but unfortunately you are going to have to pay the court costs.  I'm sorry, but there isn't anything even I can do about that."  That was very nice, don't you think? 

Soooo... it was rather stressful to have to drive to downtown Newport News to attend traffic court.  With non-citizens of the year.  In the rain.  But it was a relief to know that I did NOT have 3 points put on my flawless record, and I only had to pay $66 instead of the $91 (or more!) I was potentially going to have to pay. 

The highlight of my week was the rare treat I allow my children:  ice cream for dinner.  I figured we all had earned a little treat.  There wasn't much objection.  So we headed to Sweet Frog.  My kiddos were thrilled.  And so cute.  And I didn't have to cook.  Win-win-win.