Sweet Lou–

You are six!! I started to say “I can’t believe you are six”, but thinking back on the last year, seeing how much you’ve grown and watching you learn and learn and learn its actually harder to believe you are ONLY six.  Just since your last birthday you’ve learned to tie your shoes, ride a bike, shower on your own and READ! I’m so proud of all the new things you’ve tried and learned I could just burst.  And it seems you recognized quite the change in yourself this school year, too.  These were your self portraits from the first and last day of school.

And oh my what fun we had celebrating your birthday.  We went to see Cinderella at a local theater with a few friends and it was one of my favorite birthday parties ever.  If it wasn’t your favorite before, this personal serenade by Cinderella pretty well clinched the deal for you, I’m sure.

If I asked you your very favorite thing about this year, I’m fairly certain you’d say “school”.  For several reasons.  First- your love for learning came alive this year.  You’ve never really cared much for the school part of school, but with your energetic teacher and an awesome group of kindergarteners you changed your mind.  When your teacher called you an “enthusiastic learner” in your end of the year evaluation, I wondered if she had any idea how much credit she deserved for that.  This year you LOVED calendar time, reading groups, math problems, really ANYTHING.  But the learning was only part of the equation.

You also love teaching, so being at school where you might get to interact with younger kids on the playground, or have opportunities to be the “teachers helper” in your classroom just made you think you were in heaven.  One time your teacher told me she had to unexpectedly step out and talk to a parent.  While she was gone you managed to just keep the class right on going with calendar time so she just let you keep going when she came back in.  It was pretty much your favorite day EVER!

And last, but certainly not least…you love school because you LOVE to be social. My word you love people and you also love to be loved by people.  All kinds.  A sweet friend of mine who knows you well once told me “if there was a Preschool Homecoming Queen, Lou would be on campaign for the title”. No doubt.

You’ve changed this year, too.  You are developing opinions and style that are your very own and it’s fun to see how you express them.  I (secretly) couldn’t wait to see what you would choose each Friday for free dress Friday to see that style come blazing out.  But in everyday things, too.  You’ve decided you no longer like hair-bows.  WHAT?!?!   Instead, you prefer that your hair just “be straight down” or in a pony tail that you do all by yourself.  Those are the options (just noticed all the pics I chose for this blog still have you in a bow…maybe your last few, sniff sniff).  You still LOVE dresses (especially with “high heels”) but also love to don a good pair of (preferably pink) fast shorts while you run and play and bike ride. While you still LOVE to dress up, take care of your babies, especially Samantha, and play house; you’ll also jump right in for a good water gun fight or nerf war or even fishing.  You love to adventure as much as any of your big brothers/cousins and don’t mind a bit getting a little muddy now and then.  While I’m shocked by the development of a girly/sporty balance in you I’m also VERY relieved…there might actually be a little bit of me in you afterall.  Maybe.

You are my helper at home.  I can count on you to head the kitchen if you know I’m there to help me however you can.  You have a great knack for just seeing jobs that need to be done and volunteering.  You are happy to jump in as a third parent- and truth be told sometimes we need one. You treat Tito especially like he’s part yours.  So much so that many times when he says “momma” I just assume he’s talking to you.  You’ve even tried to teach him to ride his bike.

This year you’ll head to “big school” with your two brothers and two cousins,  what a crew that will make.  I think you are equal parts thrilled and nervous about that transition.  But I know, if you choose to, you can have the same love for learning and love for people in the bigger place as you did in Preschool and K. You’ll make friends and be a helper and continue to develop opinions and style that make you beautifully unique.

And that, my sweet princess, is my prayer for you this year.  May you continue to learn and grow and try new things, but may you also have the confidence to hang on to the opinions and style that make you LOU.  May you not be afraid to be different, but may you also have a zeal for appreciating the differences in others.  And always always always may the true beauty that is in you be one that bursts forth from a true desire to know Jesus and share his love.  Jesus is a friend that walks with you the same in your new big school where you knew few people as He was in a school where every teacher, child and staff member knew your name.  He’ll give you strength and confidence and beauty just the same now as he did then.  But I’ll let you in on a secret, a secret that you’ll just be in the earliest stages of discovering-  you may just come to see Him in a brand new way because of this new adventure. And in that I’m praying you’ll find great joy. I think you’re gonna love being SIX!
I love you to the moon and back times a million!

Love, Momma

Today is day 304.

Which is significant because 304 days is twice as long as 152 days.

And maybe you remember the last time we hit 152 with bonus kids.

One day after school last November, I sat outside my minivan sobbing.  By sobbing I mean while I was on the phone with RRL he asked “are you hyperventilating?”  It was that kind of sobbing.  I was sitting on the sidewalk on top of our double stroller and all 7 children were buckled up in the van and I could not will myself to get in.  The day was simply the culmination of lots of life with hurting kiddos coming to a head and I just couldn’t do it one more second.  Absolutely, 100%, no matter how much I felt like I was supposed to, no matter how much I wanted to, no matter how much I loved all 7 occupants of that van, I COULD.NOT.GET.IN.  In that moment, I felt like I had been swallowed by a cloud of darkness that could not be penetrated.  I could not see an ounce of light in the situation.

In my head I was shouting over and over “GOD HELP ME” but couldn’t bring myself to mutter those words out loud.  I honestly believed it might not be possible to fall any lower.  And then the stroller broke and I crashed DOWN on the sidewalk.  Haha, real funny, God.

Left with no other option, I got up and chose to take one step toward light.  I put the (not completely broken) stroller in the van, took a deep breath, and opened the driver’s door.  AND I GOT IN.

I was still on the phone with RRL and through tears I suggested “Maybe we could talk to someone”.   But I didn’t really mean it. BECAUSE WHO?  How could we ever confess just how hard this was?  How miserably I sometimes failed? We threw out several loved and trusted names- elders and ministers at our church, family, dear friends- all of whom I’m pretty sure would scoop us up and literally carry us if they thought it would help.  But then one name slipped out of my mouth before I could have even come up with it in my brain.  We quickly dismissed them- we know them, but don’t KNOW them.  We certainly can’t TELL them.  Not everything.  What would they think?  Ridiculous.  Talking to someone at all would be ridiculous.

I drove to the library (hello, free and not alone) and sat in the busyness of that place, half-heartedly helping choose books and willing myself to pray.  Suddenly- because that’s how the King of the Universe works- it hit me like a lightning bolt.  Today.  TODAY is EXACTLY day 152.  No!?  It couldn’t be.  REALLY?  Quick double check of math on my phone confirmed.  Yep, day 152.

And last time, 152 was the breaking point for everyone. 

Whether by my (slightly) competitive nature or more likely through a strength I could never derive on my own, I decided something in that moment.  Today day 152 is not going to beat us.  Not any of us.  Today the enemy doesn’t get 152.  I didn’t know where to begin.  I still didn’t WANT to do it.  So, I found the will to pray a simple “help us get to 153,” show us how to do another day in this darkness.  I’ll admit, even in my forced prayer I was more than a little bit skeptical.

You know the little kid who peeks out of one eye during the prayer to see if anyone else is looking?  That’s a little how I felt in those moments of trying to move from prayer back to real life.  Peeking out.  Wondering who had noticed.  Wondering what was happening.

But happen, it certainly did.  Wanna know who called RRL not once but TWICE within 24 hours of that breaking-point-moment?  Yep.  Same “they’d be great, but how could we ever tell them, we don’t even know them” guy. He “randomly” called to ask RRL’s input on helping someone.  RRL dismissed the first call as just that- about helping someone else.  BUT THE GUY HAD THE NERVE TO CALL BACK.  At the end of the second call, he was prompted to say to RRL “You know, my wife and I pray for you guys.  How are you doing?”  Before 24 hours had passed we had a dinner date arranged for the four of us to get together, and just like that we had a catapult right through what had seemed impossible- day 153.

That dinner, ya’ll.  The Lord used it to save a part of us.  They spent several hours listening, sharing their own battle wounds and triumphs, encouraging us and praying for us.  They looked us squarely in the eye and said (my interpretation):

“YOU CAN DO THIS.  It will be harder than hard.  People won’t get it.  YOU won’t get it.  But you can and will do this hard thing.”

And with those words, I felt LIGHT flooding back into places of my heart that I thought were maybe possibly going to be dark forever.

Let me give you a moment to let that sink in.

Recap:

Day 152= breaking point (again)

Not sure how to keep going

Wonder if a couple we never spend time with (who have adopted kids) would talk to us

Dismiss that idea

Couple “randomly” calls us

Asks how we are doing and invites us to dinner

Reminds us it can be both GOOD AND HARD

Reminds us of light

Today is day 304.

I mean, if that won’t make your head spin and your mouth burst forth with a giant HALLELUJAH- well, then… I’ve got nothin’ for ya.

Today, the fight against darkness is still a struggle.  Each day is filled with opportunities to choose.  But I was reminded that day to believe in a powerful LIGHT.  I’m going to be sharing more over the next few posts about that Light.  A light that finds the smallest crack and penetrates in a way that it shatters the walls built in black around you.  A light that waits for you to turn toward it, but allows even the slightest dart of your eyes in its direction to invite you, to change you.  And sharing a little bit about how I’m choosing to let LIGHT IN, one day at a time.

One of my favorite LIGHT/POWER verses is John 1:1-5

In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God.  He was with God in the beginning.  Through him all things were made without him nothing was made that has been made.  In him was life and that life was the LIGHT OF ALL MANKIND.  THE LIGHT SHINES in the darkness, and the darkness HAS NOT OVERCOME IT!

I’ve never felt the fighting power of that Light more than I did when I made it to day 153.

And today is day 304.

ABL

The Word of God is alive and evergreen.
While it is as 100% true and complete now as it was years ago, I find it ages and changes and grows and develops as I do. The words and truths stay unmoved but the way they speak to me flow fluidly through the seasons my life brings.

This last Sunday the lesson at our church was on the Gospel of Luke’s version of the calling of the first disciples.

Luke Chapter 5 (NIV)
4 When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into deep water, and let down the nets for a catch.”
5 Simon answered, “Master, we’ve worked hard all night and haven’t caught anything. But because you say so, I will let down the nets.”
6 When they had done so, they caught such a large number of fish that their nets began to break. 7 So they signaled their partners in the other boat to come and help them, and they came and filled both boats so full that they began to sink.

I know the word of GOD speaks to us where we are because as we listened to the lesson on obeying the Lord’s instructions, on working as He calls us, on the boat being filled to overflowing, on THE MIRACLE- I kept thinking “I bet their hands hurt”

I BET THEIR HANDS HURT!? Are you kidding me? That’s not empowering, encouraging, helpful, enlightening, preachable, or even anywhere is the words of those verses.

But it is exactly what I heard, and it was there that my heart lingered.
I bet their hands hurt.
Because mine do.

I believe RRL and I are witnessing a miracle. The one we’ve been waiting for. But it seems that as is gets closer the work gets more difficult. The “worth it?” question gets harder to answer, and I’m not sure I want anyone to know how close I sometimes come to giving up.
My hands hurt.

I still believe we are exactly where God has called us to be. The job He is asking us to do – and the way He is asking us to do it- don’t really make sense, though. I feel a bit like the fishermen who cast in deep waters in the middle of the day, even knowing that their nets were made for night fishing in shallow waters.

Like Simon immediately saw the evidence of the miracle as the tug on the nets began, I remember giggling in my prayers the very first day we knew about 3 bonus kids. I remember giggling in excitement at what The Lord was doing. It didn’t make sense, but I could sense Him all around. I believed Him, said Yes, and then the work began.

We began pulling in the nets, slowly, steadily, teeth gritted, not giving up, trying one stance and then another, adjusting our weight and continuing to pull. Always pulling. And my hands hurt.

After working for a time to pull the nets in I wonder if their hands got bloody. I wonder if they were tempted to quit. I wonder if for even a brief second the work of the thing outweighed the joy of what they were being allowed to partner in, the miracle. Maybe their hands hurt?

Whether the Word says aloud that the fishermen’s hands hurt that day or not (it doesn’t), I believe our tender and gracious God allowed me to see them that way because it resonated. And through that filter, the one carved by the season of life I’m in so that the light could pour to the part of my soul that needs it most…I found some truths:

My hands hurt because the nets are filling.

The cuts and bruises on my hands (albeit deep and ugly) are temporary, the fish in the nets are eternal.

He doesn’t need my help with this miracle, but he chose me to hold the net.

When the nets got too heavy to bear alone, another boat pulls along beside.

And sometimes your hands hurt.

Because, friends, the overflow of fish that represents my miracle- I can hear them splashing, . Somedays I have to squint so my eyes will adjust to see beyond my aching hands in front of my face. I have to struggle instead to focus just a few feet over the edge of the boat. But when I do, I can see the nets filling. I don’t know how long it is going to take us to pull them in, I don’t know when we will understand why the method was necessary, I have NO idea how the wounds will heal. And I’m 100% sure none of it will be like I expect.

My hands hurt.
But I promise not to quit.
And I promise when your nets get heavy, I’ll be in that boat that pulls up beside you.  We will work together, reminding each other to pray “But because you said so…” Reminding each other of temporary and eternal.

Together we will watch for evidence of the miracles flopping one by one then hundreds by hundreds into our boats. Because He is able and good and faithful and overflowing. Forever.

But sometimes our hands hurt.

ABL

Day 8. 17 sleeps until Christmas. Activity: dress like a nativity scene.

One of my favorite parts of our annual Christmas countdown is the “dressup like a nativity scene” night. If I was just trying to toot my own horn I would say it’s my favorite because we learn more about Jesus. But in reality it’s my favorite because you just never know what is going to happen, and it’s sure to be hilarious at one point or another.

Tonight’s highlights:

The self appointed narrator who ran upstairs to get dressed up at the last minute. He loved leading us and the six other characters through the story via scene changes and role play.

The “curtain” we were supposed to “imagine opening” to a scene that looked like Mary and Joseph were dead. Then being informed they were laying quietly and waiting on their angel dreams.

The baby in a manger getting scooted on and off “stage” at appropriate times and being constantly instructed to try to look more like a just born baby. At one point he informed his bossy Mary mommy he could not look asleep until the lights were off.

The angel appearing to the shepherd in the field. Melt.me.

The one wiseman bringing a gift of football shoulder pads because it was the only thing he could find in the playroom to use as his gift of silver (yeah, we are revisiting that).

And the random (but adorable) sheep who showed up in every scene.

All together it was messy. And perfect.

My kids may never get this quite right. And while I don’t want them to get the feeling that it’s a funny story or that we shouldn’t try to learn more about it, I also learn a lot when I let them tell it their way. Because truth be told, I stumble through this holiday, too. I don’t know how best to celebrate it. I struggle to dig deeper into what I believe. I’m pretty sure I can’t fully comprehend that a baby was born who was MAN and GOD, at exactly the same time. There are details I am surprised by every time I read this nativity story.

And maybe that’s ok. When I imagine that night Jesus was born I bet it was messy, too. Joseph probably stumbled all over the right things to say to or do for his wife who was giving BIRTH in a stable. Mary was uncomfortable (at best). The town didn’t exactly roll out the red carpet for the parents of the Savior. Plus…There.were.ANIMALS. And then Jesus, blameless, perfect, clean, full of all knowledge, power and glory came straight into the middle of that mess.

That picture is so good for me. Because He’s with us now, too, smack in the middle of our mess. I can’t tell you all the ways I see him here, not taking the mess away but meeting us in the middle of it, promising to redeem it, reminding us of his glory, asking us to look at our mess and see it as Holy ground on which he CHOOSES to walk.

Our nativity scene was a mess.
We are a mess.
And that baby who was born in a mess
came to join us in our mess
And redeem every once of it.
CHRIST IS COME!
Celebrate!

ABL

I won’t beg.  but just ask again. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE.  I’ll keep posting pictures and stories, but would you please consider helping me with something that REALLY makes a difference in the lives of teenagers?  Help Teen Lifeline equip teens with tools to live life better by supporting our family in the 6th annual TL5K.  <<<just click that link and remember, every bit helps.  Please.  And thank you!  

Well. I’m not sure it makes sense to brag about something that happens so naturally. But, we’ve pretty much perfected the art of being a spectacle. I’d put our shenanigans up against the best. Without even breaking a sweat we can draw a crowd, turn heads, and get 293756361936 questions. A spectacle. But it’s not hard to do when you take up more than your share of space everywhere you go,and your kids are incredibly well behaved (My blog. My biases)…and they are also, well, let’s call it imaginative.

Eating donuts while watching more being made. (just felt the need to clarify why all of their hands are at their faces)

Here are a few of my favorite spectacle incidents…

In the neighborhood. We regularly commandeer the entire cul-de-sac near our house for our kickball league. There could at any moment be baby dolls in strollers at home plate, people in costumes, trading of designated boys ball (Star Wars) and girls ball (Frozen), and shouts of victory (or complete tantrums over defeat). The full glory of all of this, I can’t really put into words. I think the best thing I can tell you is that there is a house on the culdesac in which two elementary aged children live. Although we’ve invited them to join us, they always just stand safely inside their front door and stare throughout the game. Spectacle.

On Mondays, we frequently have a trail of children running out our front door and down the sidewalk together to chase the trash truck and wave.  And anytime we go for a walk or bike ride, we turn heads.

But our true neighborhood spectacle status was probably secured by this. That would be our super seven seen hunting for plastic bugs we had hidden all over the front yard. All of them were dressed the part and very intensely looking through shrubs for treasures. (Thanks, SB for the leftover party favors).  The smirks on the faces of neighbors passing by was AWESOME.

Back to school haircuts. I don’t even really feel the need to say anything more about that.

In restaurants We mostly visit restaurants where we go through a line to order. This means we have our food faster and it is easier for the kids to order for themselves. And ordering for themselves is completely necessary to enforce the “you chose it, you eat it” rule. When the sweet person taking our order reads it back they are nearly out of breath by the end. Then we take up several tables, make multiple trips to the bathroom and to get water refills and have conversation volume levels continuously on the rise.

In the grocery store.

The grocery store is always an adventure.  Which is why I rarely go with all seven anymore.  But one story takes the spectacle cake. Recently I had the super seven in Sprouts. It was Monday afternoon right after school and I literally needed 3 things. Well, we didn’t even make it in the front door before the littlest tribe member declared he had to “go”. So we went. And stayed in there for 25 minutes. No.stinkin.joke. But that’s not even the story (although it could be). By the time we went back out into the store, I was a hot mess and In A Hurry. And no one else was. Testmypatience. As I scooped the pinto beans while corralling kids, hissing under my breath, and trying to fake a smile for the crowds, a sweet lady came up and started the question routine. I know to expect this multiple times anywhere we go, but this time it was different. Her questions weren’t curious. They seemed a bit concerned, or at least like she really felt the need to know our story. Iaintgotnotimeforthat, so, as kindly and firmly as I could we parted ways and off we went to our next stop- frozen pizza.  BUT she found us again and this time held out her hand with a bit of cash because she “just really wanted to help us with our groceries”. Honestly I was dumbfounded, I really appreciated it, and said so, but in all our spectacleness a complete stranger has never offered us cash. I was already frazzled and that just caught me off guard. When we got to the car, I had KJ take a picture of us, because I just wanted to remember the incident and process it. Everyone got buckled and I looked at the pic on my phone. And.cracked.up. Now, I don’t want to diminish he fact that The Lord moved her! and her heart generously gave. But I also think there’s a very real possibility she took one look at my mess of a gaggle and thought there was trouble at home. Because in addition to the mess we always are on Monday after school and work, there was something I had forgotten. My eye was swollen- nearly shut, it had been for a few days thanks to nasty allergies and I genuinely had kind of forgotten. Looking at the picture I could ONlY imagine what that added to the narrative in her head, especially since I dodged all of her questions. My word. I LAUGHED SO HARD at the sight of us staring back at me from that picture. Let’s say it together- SPECTACLE.

Yes, all 7 kids are tagged “farm fresh chicken.” Lou got stickers for them all from the butcher. Of course.

And there you have it.  An absolutely free DIY guide to perfecting the art of being a spectacle.

But you know what? About the only thing worse to me than being a spectacle in public would be staying home and not having the adventures with this little clan. Totally worth it.

ABL

Ok, friends, I have some awesome blossom pumpkin patch pictures for ya! What could be more adorable than our seven favorites with pumpkins?? But first, would you please consider reading about why the Teen Lifeline 5k     is so important? Every little (or big) bit you can give, to partner with us, will go toward providing tools to Teenagers to help them Live Life Better. We have a long way to go before reaching our goal with 5 days to go. We would love your help!!

Here is a link to our family team’s fundraising page!

Sometimes I forget we have 7 kids living with us.
No, not really, that would be like saying you occasionally forget you have a swarm of (very sweet) flies around your head.

But what I mean is that sometimes when I’m planning something, it’s become so new-normal to have seven kids that I forget to factor in that there are SEVEN SMALL CHILDREN to account for.

And that’s a problem because if, say, you are running a little late but plan to put your makeup on in the car (read:AllTheTime)- you would need to remember you’ll have to take two cars which means you’ll be driving. Because hello, 9 peeps still won’t fit in the mini-van.

Or, if say, you were going to run in to the store real quick for two items, you’ll need to plan to be there for an hour because HELLO potty stops.

But every once in a while the nap schedules, potty breaks, good moods, no-one-has-lost-team-privileges-today, adults are not exhausted FACTORS all align and this happens….

Everyone

Smiles

And

Looks

At

The

Camera!

(Or at least smirks in the general direction)

And we had a ton of fun, the nine of us,
In a random field of pumpkins that was just the right size for our crazy crew.
So maybe we are kind of figuring this thing out.

That or maybe
I finally remembered to bring enough bribes!
(One pack of gum and picking your own pumpkin did the trick)

ABL

If you are looking for a pumpkin patch in our area and you want one that is crowd free, has few other attractions than PUMPKINS, is shaded for perfect pictures and supports a church youth group ask me about where we went, you’ll thank me for this gem. This was our second time and we love it. It’s on our way to precisely No WHERE, but I love that it’s just pumpkins. If you want one where there’s a hayride, maze and a ton of fuss, ask someone who doesn’t have 7 kids in tow.

I was talking with a friend about the terrifying feeling of starting something over. Of trying again after having faced a tragic end before. Of staring into the future with the heaviness of the broken past like a cloud around you.

Except. You survived it. Battered, bruised, forever changed and maybe knowing more than you wish you ever did. But yet. You were brought through. And remembering the surviving is the sole comfort of what you faced.

It is true throughout the Bible. Those facing hopelessness are pointed back to a time of being rescued, to a time of a time of being delivered. And in remembering that He did not leave them before, they muster the courage to plunge forward again. No guarantees of an outcome, but hope that once again they’ll be carried through.

I’ve told you before that our Tito is a remembrance to me. A reminder that God did not leave us. Though we did not see the pretty bow we longed for and there was a time I wondered how we would survive, we were reminded through a tiny miracle baby that God alone brings blessing and joy. And He brings it right.smack.dab in the middle of the storm.

And there was another time.

Recently l celebrated 10 years of living free from chronic pain post GI surgery for Crohns Disease. I mean. Sheesh. Can I get a loud YAAAHOOOOOO!!! Surgery wasn’t the answer we prayed for, a week in the hospital, on a floor typically reserved for those 4 times my age was hardly glamorous. But when I think that the Docs said I’d get a few years relief and then bam. Complete healing. Yeah, that’s worth remembering. My miracle.

And I’m incredibly grateful. Don’t get me wrong. But I’m also very aware. The story of physical healing. Of a miracle that is as hoped. It isn’t all of your stories.

There is a boy I’ve never met. In a country I’ve never been to. Who I can’t help but love. Who should have been adopted. And who should be in a different story.

There are three kids I love who should know by now where to call home.

There is a mom I watched sing so bravely in a church one Sunday who shouldn’t have to spend another night in the hospital away from her guys.

There is a team of friends I adore who are searching for homes far away from their families to bring a message of hope to others.

And YOU KNOW. It just doesn’t work to wave the “I believe” wand at it and expect all will be well tomorrow. After having faced something hard, I would never diminish your “hard” by telling you everything will work out. It might not.

But.

When I look back at where we’ve been.

Or when you tell me about all He has carried you through. I realize simply- we survived. And we were not alone. That, my friends, is HOPE. That is the confidence we need to press on. We need to remember. HE.DID.NOT.LEAVE.US.THERE.

Which is why when I marked my 10 year surgiversary it made sense to mark it by running. Running to remember. Running for hope. I celebrated my amazingly good health by doing what I love. What I love that I am able to do. Running. Super early that morning I ran 10 miles to remember 10 years of healing and to pray with hope while I ran.

I ran to remember a time God said, “Phewy on those doctors. What do they know?” (My words, probably not exactly His) and granted me physical healing. I also remembered a time He didn’t provide the answer I begged for. And EVEN THEN did not leave me. Because in that I find hope- no matter what today holds, He is with me still.

And I ran to renew my hope. I ran with many of your names swirling in my head. I prayed that just as we see over and over in the Bible, the remembrance of the past would become the hope of the future for those names.

And just like running ten miles with little long distance training was an impossible task to accomplish alone, sometimes choosing hope is impossible alone. Which is why I run with this crew.

These awesome friends (and not pictured:Hatch) pushed me to finish something difficult that morning, just like they never let me give up hope in life.

Most of you probably know that RRL works for a non-profit organization, Teen Lifeline, Inc. What I love about Teen Lifeline is the idea behind teenagers learning life skills, hope skills, recovery skills TOGETHER. MAYBE just maybe as they go through the curriculum together, remember where they’ve been together, and press on to something better together, they’ll choose to keep running together.

And I know if they do- they’ll find the strength they need. Just like when I push myself to run farther or earlier or faster than before, I find Him. I hope these teenagers push each other to run in a way that they don’t just bemoan the aches, but meet the One who carries them.

Can we give them a better gift?

I’m so proud of the way Teen Lifeline is choosing to meet students who need a new race, point them toward the right track, and give them a crew to run with. So isn’t it just fitting that one of the organizations few big fundraisers is a literal race, a 5k.

Because I’m so passionate about this race, I don’t mind at all using the little space of the internet to ask you to partner with us once a year. If you’d like to support our family as we participate in the 6th annual Teen Lifeline 5k here is the link to

our fundraising page.

We are less than 1/2 way to our personal goal with one week to go. But I know we can do this, because I remember where we’ve been before.

Hope you’ll run with us.
ABL